Classic Films in Focus: THE RELUCTANT DEBUTANTE (1958)

What happens when a modern American girl enters the London debutante season? That's the question posed by The Reluctant Debutante (1958), a romantic comedy from director Vincente Minnelli with more than a few outdated notions hiding under the hem of its ballgown. Set during the final year of the old debutante season, which was ended by Queen Elizabeth the same year the film appeared, this is a story about clashing generations and cultures that is oddly conflict averse, even to the point of giving sexual assault a pass as more of a nuisance than an actual problem. Redeeming its flaws are charming performances from the leads, with real-life couple Rex Harrison and Kay Kendall getting top billing but plucky Sandra Dee bringing plenty of youthful enthusiasm to the otherwise dull debutante scene. 

Dee fills the title role as Jane, an American teenager who comes to London to visit her English father, Lord Broadbent (Rex Harrison), and his new wife, Sheila (Kay Kendall). Unfortunately for Jane, Sheila is goaded by her gossipy cousin Mabel (Angela Lansbury) into launching Jane into the debutante season, partly because Sheila never got to be a debutante herself due to World War II. Jane finds the English boys a bore, especially the tiresome David Fenner (Peter Myers), whom Sheila wants Jane to steal from Mabel's daughter Clarissa (Diane Clare) and marry. Instead Jane falls for fellow American and professional drummer David Parkson (John Saxon), a far more attractive contender but not at all what Sheila has in mind.

Much of the humor underpinning the plot revolves around the silliness of the debutante season (though never explicitly addressing its patriarchal treatment of young women as commodities). Jimmy Broadbent is run ragged by the whole affair as his wife whips them from ball to ball in pursuit of  the vicarious social triumph she never had, but the ball scenes run together for the audience as much as they do for the inebriated and sleep-deprived lord. I find it odd that Jane doesn't know anything about debutantes or "coming out" to society, since wealthy Southern families widely practiced this elaborate custom when I was growing up, and here in Huntsville the local symphony guild still indulges in the presentation of well-heeled young ladies as part of its annual events. Jane's ignorance gives the movie an excuse for the exposition, but it hardly seems necessary. Even more troublesome is the cavalier attitude toward David Fenner's attempts to force himself on Jane; it turns out that he's a habitual offender, too, only nobody seems to care because he's exactly the sort of privileged young male who gets away with awful behavior. I'd like the movie better if the ending involved some comeuppance for this repulsive character.

The thin, dated nature of the plot keeps The Reluctant Debutante in the minor leagues of classic movies, but the cast makes it worth watching in spite of its flaws. Harrison and Kendall, who had recently married in real life, have a lovely chemistry together, which the viewer experiences as bittersweet after learning that Kendall would be dead of leukemia a year later, and that Harrison knew she was dying but kept the truth from her. Kendall's Sheila has so much energy and zest for life that she's an irresistible force of nature; Jimmy and Jane never have a chance of withstanding her, and all they can do is go along while trying to nudge her into changing course. Sandra Dee, still at the very start of her film career, has ample sweetness and charm as Jane, and it's easy to see why audiences fell in love with her, while John Saxon is solid if understated as her love interest. Peter Myers is actually quite funny as David Fenner when he's droning on about traffic routes instead of assaulting young women, but most of his later career was in television rather than film. The role of Mabel is a waste of Angela Lansbury's boundless talent, even though she's perfectly capable of leaning into an unlikable character. 

If The Reluctant Debutante leaves you eager for more of Kay Kendall, try Les Girls (1957) or Once More, with Feeling! (1960), which would be her final completed film before her death in 1959. Rex Harrison would go on to marry three more times and win the Oscar for Best Actor for his performance in My Fair Lady (1964). Sandra Dee and John Saxon also starred together in The Restless Years (1958) before Dee found fame with Gidget (1959) and Tammy Tell Me True (1961), but Saxon enjoyed the more durable career with nearly 200 roles, many of them in horror films, before his death in 2020 at the age of 83. Vincente Minnelli had won his Best Director Oscar for his previous film, Gigi (1958), which appeared the same year as The Reluctant Debutante, but Father of the Bride (1950) might make for a better double feature of his films.

Classic Films in Focus: AN AMERICAN IN PARIS (1951)

Singin' in the Rain (1952) might be the most popular of Gene Kelly's musical films, but An American in Paris (1951) proved his biggest Oscar success. The Best Picture Winner, directed by Vincente Minnelli, took home six Academy Awards in all, including wins for Best Musical Score and Best Color Cinematography. Although it lacks the more robust, developed narratives of Singin' in the Rain and On the Town (1949), An American in Paris offers plenty of Kelly's energetic artistry as a dancer, with a memorable performance from Oscar Levant and a charming debut by Leslie Caron. Songs from George and Ira Gershwin, as well as a screenplay by Alan Jay Lerner, make this picture particularly popular with musical types, while the climactic ballet is a highlight for those devoted to the art of dance.

Kelly plays aspiring American painter Jerry Mulligan, who stays on in Paris after World War II to practice his art. There he catches the attention of the wealthy Milo Roberts (Nina Foch), who offers to sponsor Jerry but also has designs of a more romantic kind. When Jerry falls for a young French girl named Lise (Leslie Caron), Milo becomes jealous, but Jerry doesn't know that Lise is already engaged to Henri (Georges Guetary), a popular singer who took her in during the war.

Kelly's charisma carries the lightweight narrative, although he's in a more sentimental mood here than in his other best known roles. The funniest scenes pair him with Oscar Levant's character, the perpetual scholarship musician Adam Cook, who provides a link between Jerry and his unknown romantic rival, Henri. Jerry and Henri form a lovers' triangle with Lise, while Jerry finds himself in a second triangle with Lise and Milo. The two parallel situations reveal the double standard for men's and women's behavior, since Jerry pursues Lise with relentless attention but balks when Milo treats him the same way. Of course, Jerry will get what he wants eventually, but the story cuts Milo out of its ending, leaving us to wonder how Jerry's influential sponsor reacts to his defection. Leslie Caron is much too young, at nineteen, to be a credible love interest, but she shines in the dances and looks especially lovely at the artists' ball, where she appears like a fairy princess with stars in her hair and a white ballet gown.

Ultimately, it's not the story that really matters in An American in Paris. This is a musical with the emphasis firmly on its song and dance. Jerry's performance of "I Got Rhythm" with a group of French children is an entertaining highlight early in the picture, and the "By Strauss" number features a great combination of the distinct talents of Kelly, Levant, and Georges Guetary. The most important sequence, however, is the American in Paris ballet, which puts Leslie Caron's skill as a ballerina to particularly good use. The long musical piece transports viewers through a romantic fantasy of Paris and its art, including some memorable recreations of paintings by Manet, Utrillo, and Toulouse-Lautrec. Caron even appears in costume as Jane Avril, the can-can dancer who inspired Toulouse-Lautrec's most iconic work. Kelly also adopts a number of striking costumes for this sequence, most notably a very fitted white outfit that highlights his muscular dancer's physique. The ballet dominates the final segment of the film, with no dialogue and only a single concluding scene to bring us back to the narrative frame, but for those who most value Gene Kelly as a dancer it's the quintessential moment of his screen career. 

For more musicals from Vincente Minnelli, try Meet Me in St. Louis (1944), The Band Wagon (1953), and Gigi (1958), for which he won an Oscar for Best Director. Gene Kelly also stars in Cover Girl (1944), Anchors Aweigh (1945), and Brigadoon (1954). Leslie Caron is best remembered for Gigi, but you'll also find her in Lili (1953), Daddy Long Legs (1955), and Father Goose (1964). See Oscar Levant in Romance on the High Seas (1948), The Barkleys of Broadway (1949), and The Band Wagon (1953), and catch Nina Foch in Executive Suite (1954), The Ten Commandments (1956), and Spartacus (1960).

Classic Films in Focus: THE PIRATE (1948)

In the same year that she starred with Fred Astaire in Easter Parade (1948), Judy Garland partnered with Hollywood’s other reigning hoofer, Gene Kelly, in the Caribbean musical romance, The Pirate (1948). Garland and Kelly had already starred together in For Me and My Gal (1942), and they make a very lively pair in this odd, boisterous romp, which also benefits from Cole Porter’s songs and Vincente Minnelli’s direction. With its tropical setting and heated dance numbers, The Pirate pulses with sexual energy, but it moderates its plot about a young girl’s bedroom fantasies of kidnap and ravishment with liberal doses of comedy. Supporting appearances from Walter Slezak, Gladys Cooper, and the fabulous Nicholas Brothers also make this picture worthwhile for musical and comedy fans.

Garland stars as Manuela, whose arranged marriage to the much older Don Pedro (Walter Slezak) threatens to extinguish her hope for a life of romance and adventure. Her beauty attracts the admiration of Serafin (Gene Kelly), a traveling actor who pursues Manuela to her hometown and disrupts the wedding by claiming to be the infamous pirate, Mack the Black Macoco. Serafin’s ruse backfires, however, when the real Macoco connives to have the actor executed for the outlaw’s crimes.

The plot of the story is surprisingly lusty, with Manuela as both desired object and desiring subject. She yearns for the rough embrace of Macoco the pirate, primarily because she is bored with her conventional, sheltered upbringing and has no idea what an encounter with a real pirate would be like. Don Pedro, fat, rich, and determined to live a quiet life, represents the very opposite of everything that Manuela thinks she wants, but Serafin doesn’t live up to her ideal, either, since he’s merely a rakish entertainer. Manuela gets to live her fantasy, even if it’s just pretend, when Serafin poses as Macoco and demands that Manuela be delivered to him as a sacrifice to save the town. This is kinky stuff for 1948 and sweet-faced Judy Garland, but the movie treats the subject with such ironic humor that it gets passed off as a harmless lark. Still, it’s hard to imagine the production heaving with the same urgency without Gene Kelly in those delightfully tight pants, even if his wig looks a bit silly.

Several of the musical numbers contribute to the heady sexual atmosphere. Louis B. Mayer might have destroyed the alarmingly sexy “Voodoo” number that was meant to be in the picture, but the songs that remain give the audience plenty of heat. Kelly’s “Nina” number has him trying to make out with every girl in port, and the pirate ballet sequence shows off both his dancing ability and his naked legs. Garland waxes rhapsodically about “Mack the Black” and literally lets her hair down to fantasize about being carried off by the buccaneer. Other songs moderate the prevailing mood of the picture with comedy or more traditional romance; the best of the lot is the first performance of “Be a Clown,” which features Kelly with the incredibly talented Nicholas Brothers.

The Pirate succeeds at balancing sensuality with comedy thanks to its cast. Kelly is obviously having a ball as the waggish Serafin; he plays at being a swashbuckler like Douglas Fairbanks and hams up his theatrical bits like John Barrymore. Garland, already fragile and edging toward the end of her MGM career, still looks lovely and has the strength to hold her own against Kelly. The scene in which she throws a roomful of breakable objects at him is quite a spectacle. Gladys Cooper is both maternal and mercenary as Manuela’s Aunt Inez, while Walter Slezak has some very good scenes as the dour Don Pedro. George Zucco makes a brief but memorable appearance as the Viceroy who wants to hang Macoco, and Reginald Owen also turns up in a small supporting role.

For more of Garland and Kelly, see their third and final film together, Summer Stock (1950). Vincente Minnelli also directed Garland, who was his wife from 1945 to 1951, in Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) and The Clock (1945); he directed Kelly again in An American in Paris (1951) and Brigadoon (1954). For more of Walter Slezak, see Lifeboat (1944) and People Will Talk (1951). Don’t miss the Nicholas Brothers in Stormy Weather (1943), which offers a better and more extended example of their amazing technique.

Classic Films in Focus: BRIGADOON (1954)

Adapted from the popular 1947 musical from Lerner and Loewe, Brigadoon (1954) is merely a modest success in comparison to other Gene Kelly vehicles like An American in Paris (1950) and Singin’ in the Rain (1952), but it’s still a reasonably entertaining outing for fans of the charismatic star. Supported by costars Van Johnson and lovely Cyd Charisse, Kelly offers his usual mix of dance and romance, and Vincente Minnelli’s direction keeps the narrative moving, but Brigadoon lacks the robust energy of Kelly’s best films. Its fairy tale image of Scotland is charming enough, however, that most fans of the musical genre will like the movie even if they don’t love it.

Kelly stars as Tommy Albright, an American tourist who stumbles upon the idyllic village of Brigadoon during a hunting trip through Scotland. Tommy and his cranky pal, Jeff (Van Johnson), quickly notice some strange aspects of life in Brigadoon, but Tommy also notices the charms of local lass, Fiona (Cyd Charisse). It turns out that Brigadoon is an enchanted place that only wakes up once every hundred years, and at the end of the day it will vanish into the mist for another century. As a village wedding thrusts the community into unexpected crisis, Tommy must decide if his love for Fiona means more to him than his life in the normal, modern world. 

Brigadoon is very much a fantasy of Scotland, decorated with plaids and armloads of heather. The patently artificial sets give little sense of the real Scottish countryside, just as the inhabitants of Brigadoon reflect none of the turmoil of eighteenth-century Scottish identity. Witches, identified by the villagers as the threat that inspired the “blessing,” had ceased to be a big concern in Scotland by mid-century, although they fit the fairy tale plot much better than Jacobite political strife. Still, the scenery is both charming and quaint, like an old-fashioned watercolor postcard. The locals sport colorful, picturesque costumes, and collies, cows, and sheep wander about the rustic town. 

The main attractions of the picture are Kelly and Charisse, two of Hollywood’s most attractive dancers. As the romantic leads, they get more screen time together than they had in Singin’ in the Rain two years before, and they are lovely to watch, especially in the yearning, balletic sequences. Charisse, dubbed as usual for the vocal performances, looks beautiful in Irene Sharaff’s costumes, but Kelly’s musical numbers don’t show off his singing ability as well as his other films. The most memorable musical segment of the movie is not one of the love duets but the more energetic ensemble piece, “I’ll Go Home with Bonnie Jean,” which features a number of the supporting players.

Catch Kelly in Cover Girl (1944), Anchors Aweigh (1945), and On the Town (1949) for more song and dance, or have a look at his non-musical performances in The Three Musketeers (1948), The Devil Makes Three (1952), and Inherit the Wind (1960). You’ll find Cyd Charisse in The Harvey Girls (1946), The Band Wagon (1953), and Silk Stockings (1957). Van Johnson also stars in Till the Clouds Roll By (1946), In the Good Old Summertime (1949), and The Last Time I Saw Paris (1961). Vincente Minnelli won an Oscar for Best Director for Gigi (1958), but he also helmed Meet Me in St. Louis (1944), Father of the Bride (1950), and An American in Paris (1951). For a different take on Scottish romance, try I Know Where I’m Going! (1945).

Classic Films in Focus: UNDERCURRENT (1946)

Directed by Vincente Minnelli, Undercurrent (1946) plays with the same thematic elements as other feminine thrillers like Suspicion (1941), Gaslight (1944), and Dial M for Murder (1954), but in spite of a very attractive cast the picture falls short of its genre peers. It’s an interesting and very unusual foray into noir territory for star Katharine Hepburn, with Robert Taylor and noir stalwart Robert Mitchum along for the ride, but Undercurrent never quite comes together as a picture, and it doesn’t use its impressive cast to the best effect.

Hepburn plays Ann Hamilton, the awkward spinster daughter of a scientist (Edmund Gwenn) whose latest work attracts the attention of a suave industrialist named Alan Garroway (Robert Taylor). Alan acquires more than he came for when he meets and marries Ann, taking her with him to Washington, D.C., California, and his family’s estate in Virginia. In every place, Ann learns more confusing clues about Alan’s history with his missing brother, Michael (Robert Mitchum), while Alan begins to seem less and less like the man Ann believed him to be.

The plot reworks the motifs of Gothic romance and film noir, with Ann hiding behind doors, peering into forbidden spaces, and playing detective in the mystery of her brother-in-law’s disappearance. Hepburn might make a better Ann if the heroine possessed more nerve, but she seems miscast as the coltish, self-doubting victim, if only because she has too much inherent strength of character herself. She gives as good a performance as possible considering the stark contrast between performer and part, but even Hepburn has her limits. Robert Taylor also does his best with Alan, but he needs more scenes in which to work the character’s darker side, and Robert Mitchum has so little screen time that he barely gets to do anything at all with Michael.

The supporting cast fare no better than the top-billed stars. Both Edmund Gwenn and Marjorie Main appear only briefly. Both were glorious character actors capable of breathing life into almost any picture, which leaves us to wonder why they were cast in the parts if they weren’t going to be put to good use. Leigh Whipper has better luck and more scenes as the Garroway estate’s caretaker, and he does a good job adding to the home’s Gothic ambience.

None of the actors can really be faulted for the movie’s failure to deliver, but Undercurrent is best appreciated by hardcore fans looking to see all of Hepburn’s minor films or survey the lesser entries in the noir canon. For a better pairing of Hepburn and Gwenn as father and daughter, try Sylvia Scarlett (1935). See Robert Mitchum’s signature performances in Out of the Past (1947), The Night of the Hunter (1955), and Cape Fear (1962). For different takes on Robert Taylor, try Westward the Women (1951) and Ivanhoe (1952).

This review was originally posted on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.