Victor/Victoria
Victor/Victoria on DVD |
Victor/Victoria was, perhaps, the last real
star-powered musical of the old school. It already had a slightly musty aroma at the time
of its 1982 release -- possibly a result of its source material, a 1933 script by Reinhold
Schünzel -- but some folks would say that simply added to its rather considerable list of
charms.
It is charming. It's filled with scene-stealing
actors -- Julie Andrews, James Garner, Robert Preston, Leslie Ann Warren, and Alex Karras
form just the tip of the iceberg. Even the bit-players here are strong enough to derail
the film's momentum with superbly crafted schtick -- as the deadpan Graham Stark proves in
a running bit about Paris's most unflappable waiter.
Its script is fast paced and packed with gags that range
from slapstick to Cole Porter-like badinage. The plot is a deliriously unbelievable
farrago of mistaken identities and wrong assumptions -- hey, it worked for Shakespeare,
that canny judge of audience desire.
Its production values are lavish and its costumes (true to
the genre) are spectacular. And then there's the music -- an original score by Henry
Mancini with lyrics by Leslie Bricusse. Well, that part still divides audiences. On one
hand, the music is by Mancini and his sinuous way with a melody and his superb
sense of rhythm make it flow out of the situations here with an almost sneaky
inevitability. But Bricusse's lyrics sound forced to my ear -- as though straining for
Cole Porter's sophistication and glib double, even triple, entendres.
But the film piles joke upon joke with such abandon, that
I'm not entirely sure that the lameness of these supposedly sophisticated lyrics might
not be just one more. And they do make for entirely believable big production numbers --
all, like the songs in Cabaret, set in the plausible confines of a nightclub's
several stages.
The plot is slight, but surprisingly durable. Victoria
Grant (Andrews), a down-on-her-luck coloratura soprano is about to hit rock bottom in
Paris, when she meets Carrol "Toddy" Todd (Preston), a similarly situated
cabaret entertainer. Toddy, impressed by her vocal range, hatches a scheme to make her the
toast of gay Paris -- a term this film takes unusually seriously -- by presenting her as a
Polish Count cum female impersonator. The plan's a success and Victoria, now living
her life as Victor, finds herself the hit of the season.
One night, King Marchand (Garner), a mob-connected Chicago
nightclub owner, catches her act. He finds himself disturbed by his attraction for the
Count -- and Toddy and Victoria find their plan threatened by Victoria's own attraction
for Marchand.
Complications, as they say, ensue.
It's hard to pick a single thread out of such a tightly
woven fabric, but chief among the film's appeals is its good nature. While jokes are
definitely made at the expense of gays and heterosexuals alike, it's all fairly amiable.
When King Marchand's girlfriend Norma discovers that Toddy is gay, she is quick to console
him: "I think the right woman could reform you."
"You know," Toddy says without missing a beat,
"I think the right woman could reform you, too."
This matter-of-fact acceptance of its characters' sexual
orientation is crucial to the film's success. When Victoria first gets to know Toddy, she
asks, "How long have you been a homosexual?"
"How long have you been a soprano?" he asks.
"Since I was 12."
"I was a late bloomer."
Preston's performance as Toddy is definitely one of the
film's unalloyed delights. He's arch and deliciously witty and flamboyant without being
queeny in the slightest. It's a fabulous performance, every bit as over-the-top and
delirious as his turn as Harold Hill in The Music Man, but also imbued with a
lifetime of craft. Without him holding Victor/Victoria together, its disparate
parts would fly asunder.
Of course, Andrews and Garner bring a lot to the table as
well. These veteran performers are superbly comfortable with one another and their
chemistry together is as reassuring as an old pair of slippers. And why shouldn't they be?
They memorably shared top billing (and great screen chemistry) before, in 1964's The
Americanization of Emily.
The new DVD edition has the added attractions of a sharp
telecine transfer that's grain free, and filled with deep, bright color, and a superb new
Dolby Digital soundtrack. And, if you go in for that sort of thing, it features a chatty
husband-and-wife audio commentary track by director Blake Edwards and Julie Andrews. It's
amusing, but few people will listen to it a second time.
The film itself, on the other hand, is a delight that will
call to you frequently. Go ahead and indulge yourself -- Victor/Victoria is good
company. Why not invite it into your life?
...Wes Phillips
wes@onhometheater.com
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