THE HONEY POT

Cliff Robertson and Rex Harrison

THE HONEY POT (1967). Writer/director: Joseph L. Mankiewicz.  

At his palazzo in Venice, wealthy Cecil Fox (Rex Harrison) has concocted a scheme inspired by Ben Johnson's classic play "Volpone." He has hired out-of-work actor William McFly (Cliff Robertson) to help him "stage manage" the situation when he pretends to be dying and invites two ex-wives and a long-time lover to Venice, where he will tease them about which will inherit his money. The ex-wives include actress Merle McGill (Edie Adams of The Oscar) and Princess Dominique (Capucine of The Queens), and the lover is Mrs. Sheridan (Susan Hayward of I Thank a Fool), who brings along her nurse, Sarah (Maggie Smith). Complications ensue when Mrs. Sheridan reveals that she is Cecil's common law wife. Then one of the women is murdered, and Cecil's own life seems to be in danger ... 

Capucine, Susan Hayward, Maggie Smith

For much of its length, it isn't certain exactly where The Honey Pot is going nor what the audience is supposed to think of it. It eventually emerges as a light-hearted murder mystery with some clever (if suspect) touches. As with most of these tricky pictures, the plot may not hold up under intensive scrutiny, but while the movie seems oddly disjointed at times, it can't quite be called boring. Because it's necessary to hold secrets from the audience, the characters aren't that well-developed, although the actors give it the old college try. Harrison is as marvelous as ever, Robertson better than expected, and of the ladies Hayward probably makes the best impression, although the others are also good. The ending may seem cute but it ignores some niceties of law. It's interesting that Cecil's dream was to be a ballet dancer, and he and a double dance to the strains of the ballet music from Ponchielli's La gioconda at one point (Allan Sherman used the melody for his "Camp Granada" novelty song.) 

Verdict: An interesting oddity that doesn't quite work but entertains in spite of it. ***. 

BLITHE SPIRIT

Margaret Rutherford as Madame Arcati

BLITHE SPIRIT (1945). Director: David Lean. Based on the play by Noel Coward, who also produced the film.

To do research for his next book, writer Charles Condomine (Rex Harrison) and his wife Ruth (Constance Cummings) invite well-known psychic Madame Arcati (Margaret Rutherford) to dinner and a seance. Everyone at the dinner party thinks the madame is slightly nuts, and definitely a phony, but to Charles and Ruth's surprise she inadvertently manages to call back the spirit of Elvira (Kay Hammond) -- Charles' first wife, leading to expected -- and a few unexpected -- complications! 

Rex Harrison

One critic called the source material for the movie, the play of the same title by Noel Coward, "a wearying  exhibition of bad taste" and indeed it is the sort of dark comedy/farce in which tragic situations are milked for laughs and characters sort of suppress natural human emotions for the sake of the story. Many will feel there's a definite streak of (probably benign and possibly unintended) misogyny running through the movie as well. Harrison and Cummings are fine as the husband and his second wife, but Kay Hammond -- although her performance isn't bad -- has so affected and unnatural a voice, with its jutting lower lip and distasteful inflections, that she becomes positively repulsive as Elvira. Margaret Rutherford, on the other hand, is as delightful as ever as the medium and steals the movie from everyone else. Blithe Spirit is not exactly a laugh-riot (although any pathos the situations might have had goes unexplored) but it is amusing and entertaining. A bonus on the remastered DVD of the film is an interview with Coward scholar Barry Day, who provides much interesting information  on the background both of the play and movie, and also explores the many differences between the two -- and Coward's reaction to the film as well; Day is marvelous. The play was also turned into the cute if mediocre musical "High Spirits." 

Verdict: Certainly worth a look. ***.

LOVERLY: THE LIFE AND TIMES OF MY FAIR LADY

LOVERLY: THE LIFE AND TIMES OF MY FAIR LADY. Dominic McHugh. Oxford University Press; 2012.

This scholarly tome looks at virtually every aspect of the world-famous and wonderful musical, Lerner and Loewe's My Fair Lady, from George Bernard Shaw's play Pygmalion to the Broadway (and subsequent) productions of the musical, the acclaimed motion picture version, and reassessments of the show over the decades. McHugh goes into various attempts to go against Shaw and turn the piece into a conventional romance, and how librettist and lyricist Alan Jay Lerner did his best to avoid that situation. The book goes into casting choices and decisions -- Mary Martin was for a long time the front-runner to play Eliza Doolittle -- as well as rehearsal problems and how they were dealt with. McHugh also scrutinizes and analyzes the music (unless you're a music student these passages may be a little dry, of course) and cites composer Frederick Loewe's influences. McHugh hardly leaves a stone unturned, although I must say I was given pause when he describes "On the Street Where You Live" -- in my opinion a beautiful and soaringly romantic number and a major highlight of the score -- as "superficially pretty, but a little dull and insipid [like Freddy]." Dull and insipid? To each his own. I also recommend The Musical Worlds of Lerner and Loewe.

Verdict: More than anyone could possibly want to know about My Fair Lady. ***. 

FATAL CHARM: THE LIFE OF REX HARRISON

FATAL CHARM: THE LIFE OF REX HARRISON. Alexander Walker. St. Martin's; 1992.

This superb biography takes a thorough, exhaustive look at the life and career of Rex Harrison, highlighting his enormous talent and good points while unsparingly detailing his less admirable traits, which were many. Walker covers Harrison's early British films and stage work, his coming to America to appear in Anna and the King of Siam with Irene Dunne, his triumph in both the Broadway and movie versions of My Fair Lady, and his many marriages to the likes of Collette Thomas, Elizabeth Rees, Lilli Palmer, and Rachel Roberts, among others. Roberts was a particular handful, an alcoholic whose behavior in public was often disgusting, and who even after her divorce from Harrison and his subsequent remarriage never stopped trying to get him back. Then there are the numerous affairs, the most publicized of which were with Carole Landis (who committed suicide over him) and Kay Kendall [Les Girls], whom Harrison married, divorcing Palmer, after learning Kendall had only a couple of years to live. Walker's biography maintains a balance between Harrison's career and personal life, analyzing his performances, and is bolstered by many interviews and comments from friends and co-workers.

Verdict: A damned good show! ****.

CHANGE LOBSTERS AND DANCE

CHANGE LOBSTERS AND DANCE: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. Lilli Palmer. Macmillan; 1975.

Apparently without a ghostwriter, Lilli Palmer [Body and Soul] writes affectingly of her life and a bit of her career and writes so well that she proves as talented an author as she was an actress. Palmer tells of growing up a Jew in Berlin, leaving the country for France and then England when Hitler reared his ugly head, her early struggles to have a career as an actress and winding up as part of a singing act in sleazy nightclubs, her work in theater and films, and her marriage to Rex Harrison. From an insider's pov, Palmer tells of the effect Harrison's affair with Carole  Landis [Out of the Blue], a suicide, had on her and her husband's lives -- they essentially had to flee Hollywood for New York until My Fair Lady changed everything -- as well as the major impact of his affair with co-star Kay Kendall [Les Girls] , whom Harrison had to take care of as she was dying, a fact that was kept from her.  It was difficult for Palmer to continue co-starring with Rex Harrison in "Bell, Book and Candle" in London after he fell in love with Kendall, but the producer wouldn't let her out of her contract. She lied and told Harrison that she would return to him after Kendall's death, but told him the truth afterward. Palmer then had a happier marriage to Argentinian actor and author Carlos Thompson [Raw Wind in Eden]. Palmer provides interesting portraits of such folk as co-stars Gary Cooper, Clark Gable and close friend Laurence Olivier, as well as of Noel Coward, Greta Garbo, Helen Keller, and the malicious Hedda Hopper, but the best sections relate her impressions as anti-Semitic feelings grew in Germany, and her reactions when she returned to make films in her homeland many years later, wondering which of her co-workers were Nazis and which weren't.

Palmer goes behind the scenes of a couple of her movies, but most of her film work is only mentioned in passing. (She doesn't even mention stuff like The House That Screamed.) Interestingly, second husband Thompson did not want her appearing on the New York stage because, as she puts it, "I couldn't possibly ask him to sit around and twiddle his thumbs for a whole year ... " this coming not long after Thompson spent two years away from Palmer researching a book! Sadly, Palmer died of cancer about ten years after this book was finished, and Thompson committed suicide four years later.

Verdict: Absorbing and very well-written memoir. ***1/2. 

THE MUSICAL WORLDS OF LERNER AND LOEWE

THE MUSICAL WORLDS OF LERNER AND LOEWE. Gene Lees. University of Nebraska Press; 2005.

Lyricist/librettist Alan Jay Lerner and composer Frederick Loewe combined their talents to come up with such memorable shows and films as Paint Your Wagon, Brigadoon, My Fair Lady, Camelot, and Gigi, which was written for the screen before becoming a Broadway show many years later. Lerner also did the screenplays for An American in Paris and Royal Wedding (he also contributed lyrics to Burton Lane's music), in addition to his screenplays for the often mediocre film versions of the Broadway shows. Lerner's other collaborators included the aforementioned Lane [On a Clear Day You Can See Forever] and Charles Strouse, resulting in Dance a Little Closer, which, unfortunately, opened and closed on the same night. If you're expecting a dry recitation of the credits of the two gentlemen, you'll be pleasantly surprised. because this book is a dishy, intensely readable, even suspenseful look at the work and often messy private lives of these two musical giants. Loewe had only one marriage and divorce, but after his retirement spent his days with a variety of young women, while Lerner was married and divorced over and over again. Lerner became one of the patients of a Dr. Feelgood who gave him injections that negatively affected his health, work and thought processes. Such composers as Richard Rodgers  had to throw up their hands waiting impatiently for Lerner to deliver material, although Lerner managed to complete one work with Leonard Bernstein, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Frederick "Fritz" Loewe and Alan Jay Lerner

The Musical Worlds of Lerner and Loewe goes behind the scenes, often in great detail, exposing the struggles to get Rex Harrison to deliver -- which he eventually did -- for My Fair Lady, the battles over Camelot, and the disastrous making of the godawful film version of Paint Your Wagon, among other highlights. Lerner's eight marriages are scrutinized, including his union to the only ex-wife he hated and wouldn't even name in his memoirs, Micheline, and his apparently very happy marriage to the much-younger and talented Liz Robertson, who starred in the ill-fated Dance a Little Closer and was with him until his death. (While Lees provides backstage info on that production, I do wish he had spent more time discussing the inclusion of the gay male couple who want to get married -- decades before marriage equality -- making Dance a Little Closer ahead of its time in that regard at least. This situation gets no less than three different song numbers, but Lees dismisses the "homosexual airline employees who want to get married" -- along with all of the other characters it must be noted --  as being unlikable.)  Lees makes the point that Lerner, being born into a wealthy family, had no true understanding of people from the lower classes. He also correctly surmises that, sadly, the days of Lerner and Loewe (the latter with his rich Viennese-influenced scores) are over, with Broadway now given over to pop and rock musicals and Disney movie adaptations, more's the pity. Some of  Lees' opinions can be surprising, especially when he states that Paint Your Wagon has only one memorable song, "They Call the Wind Mariah," (ignoring "Wand'rin Star" and others, although, oddly he does mention the beautiful "Another Autumn" later on in the book).

Verdict: A must-read for Broadway, music, and film fans. ***1/2. 

MIDNIGHT LACE (1960)

Natasha Parry and Doris Day

MIDNIGHT LACE (1960). Director: David Miller.

Wealthy Kit Preston (Doris Day) lives in a beautiful London townhouse with her husband, businessman Anthony Preston (Rex Harrison). She hears creepy voices in the pea-soup fog threatening to kill her, and gets obscene phone calls that Inspector Byrnes (John Williams) thinks may be imaginary. Is Kit overly anxious for her busy husband's attention, or is somebody actually out to get her? If so, there are numerous suspects: Malcolm (Roddy McDowall), the maid's son, who is shiftless and threatening; Brian (John Gavin), who supervises the construction site next to the townhouse and may be overly solicitous; a weird stranger who follows Kit about (Anthony Dawson); and Tony's business associates, Charles (Herbert Marshall) and Daniel (Richard Ney). Doris Day gives one of her best performances in Midnight Lace, convincingly getting across her character's terror and nervousness throughout the movie. Okay, there are times Day rather rabidly masticates the scenery a bit -- especially when she has a meltdown on a staircase -- but her hysteria fits the character, who is so wimpy and helpless at times that you want to slap some sense into her. The other performers are all excellent as well, including Natasha Parry as Kit's friend, Peggy, and Myrna Loy, who adds some class as Kit's Aunt Bea. John Gavin, incredibly handsome in this picture, uses a British accent and is better than usual. Russell Metty's cinematography is first-rate and Frank Skinner's score certainly adds immeasurably to the tension of certain sequences. When Kit asks for bus directions to a London neighborhood, leading to her near-death, you have to wonder why such a fabulously wealthy woman would bother taking a bus in the first place! Williams and Dawson both appeared in Hitchcock's Dial M for Murder. David Miller directed Joan Crawford in an even better woman-in-jeopardy film, Sudden Fear.

Verdict: Smooth, solid, well-acted suspense film. ***.

THE YELLOW ROLLS ROYCE

Alain Delon and Shirley MacLaine

THE YELLOW ROLLS ROYCE (1964). Director: Anthony Asquith. Screenplay by Terence Rattigan

"Oh, God. How I'm going to hate living from now on."

This is a trio of tales loosely tied to the same beautiful title automobile -- copulation occurs in the back seat of the rolls in each story, but even that doesn't make this picture entertaining. Surely a movie built around such a premise could have turned out better than this, but it's as if playwright Rattigan [The Browning Version] decided to throw together scrips and scraps from his discarded idea book to come up with this mess. The first story, starring Rex Harrison [My Fair Lady] as a member of the Foreign Office, is easily the best, and even manages to be somewhat moving in its tale of Harrison being cuckolded by his wife (Jeanne Moreau) and her lover (Edmund Purdom), who works with Harrison, on the day he should be happiest. The second and worst story has to do with a gangster (George C. Scott) traveling in Italy with his moll (Shirley MacLaine) who encounter a handsome man (Alain Delon) who makes tips selling photos to tourists; you can guess what happens. This exercise in tedium can't even be saved by the actors (including Art Carney as Scott's Man Friday) and has a flat wind up to boot. Delon and MacLaine have little chemistry. The third and last story is a contrived bit of business in which a fussy and wealthy woman (Ingrid Bergman) agrees to take a Yugoslav (Omar Sharif) across the border to aid his king and country just as the Germans are attacking. This termagant has more intestinal fortitude than anyone would ever have imagined, but her romance with Sharif is unconvincing, to say the least. (It would have been even less convincing had the more appropriate Katharine Hepburn been cast, as one critic suggested). Bergman is miscast, Scott [The Exorcist III] is excellent as the mobster, Delon succeeds at being charming, Moreau is creditable, and Harrison, with that stiff British upper lip, underplays quite satisfactorily. The best performance, however, is given by a winning and credible Sharif.

Verdict: The first episode is good, but the last two make two hours seem like ten. *1/2.

UNFAITHFULLY YOURS

Linda Darnell and Rex Harrison

UNFAITHFULLY YOURS (1948). Written, produced and directed by Preston Sturges.

Sir Alfred De Carter (Rex Harrison of Blithe Spirit) is a world-famous conductor married to a younger woman, Daphne (Linda Darnell). Through the manipulations of his unpleasant brother-in-law (Rudy Vallee of My Dear Secretary), Alfred becomes convinced that Daphne is carrying on with his secretary, Tony (Kurt Kreuger). As he conducts classical and operatic pieces by Rossini, Tchaikovsky, and Wagner, he imagines different ways in which he can get even with the two, then finally tries to hatch one of the plots, which doesn't work out as well as it does in his fantasy. The "hero" in this actually contrives to murder his wife, but a bigger problem is the classical music background is totally at odds with what's happening on screen, which in turn has little to do with the music. The whole thing just doesn't work, and worse, is rather boring for long stretches. The cast -- including Barbara Lawrence of The Star as Vallee's sneering, belittling wife -- is quite good, but not enough to save the movie.

Verdict: Go to the opera instead. **.

MY FAIR LADY

MY FAIR LADY (1964). Director: George Cukor.

George Cukor, primarily concerned with actors and not with being "cinematic," may not have been the best choice to helm the film adaptation of the smash Lerner and Loewe musical, but the film is still so entertaining and well-acted that there seems little point in complaining about its static, theatrical aspects. Audrey Hepburn, Rex Harrison, and Stanley Holloway are all superb, and they are bolstered by an outstanding supporting cast made up of the likes of Gladys Cooper as Henry Higgins' mother (wish we saw more of her) -- Cooper, of course, was the dragon-mother of Now, Voyager -- Wilfrid Hyde-White as Pickering; Mona Washbourne as the housekeeper Mrs. Pearce; and Theodore Bikel as that "ruder pest" from Budapest, Zoltan Karpathy etc. This is probably one of the few (only?) film adaptations of a Broadway musical that includes all of the songs (the adaptation of Fanny dropped the songs entirely, although you at least heard the music in the background). Great story, great score, great entertainment. Eliza's haunting refrain of "what's to become of me?' echoes -- along with a great sense of loneliness -- as she returns to the place where she once sold flowers and none of her old companions fully recognize her. You really can't go home again.

Verdict: Loverly. ***1/2.

ANNA AND THE KING OF SIAM

ANNA AND THE KING OF SIAM (1946). Director: John Cromwell.

This features wonderful performances by Irene Dunne as Anna; Rex Harrison as the King (once you get used to him); Gale Sondergaard as the first wife; Lee J. Cobb as the King's second-in-command; and Linda Darnell as the first concubine, Lady Tuptim, who is a bit of a bitch. She has her own slave, whom she (at first) refuses to set free. Tuptim and her (apparently “sin”-free) “lover” are burned at the stake in a more graphic treatment than in “The King and I.” One wonders: How can Anna teach the wives English if she can't speak Siamese? The very moving conclusion shows the son of the dead king telling the slaves to stand upright instead of kneeling. In this original version, the king dies many years after the main storyline ends and is much older than in the musical. An odd note is that Anna's young son is killed riding a horse, which apparently did not occur in the book nor in real life! Dunne's reaction to this tragedy is perhaps not quite strong enough. Bernard Herrmann's score has some lovely touches.

Verdict: Certainly worth a look. ***.