What an odd insect-in-amber musical Till the Clouds Roll By, a somewhat biographical film about Jerome Kern, now seems. It freezes in time all the weaknesses and some of the strengths of an MGM musical style that has long passed from the scene. Kern was one of the giants of American song-writing. It's no exaggeration to say that he was the great bridge between the European operetta style of early Broadway musicals and the completely home- grown and energetic style which came from Gershwin, Rodgers, Berlin and Porter. His and Oscar Hammerstein II's Show Boat in 1927 was a turning point in American theater history. Fittingly enough, the movie opens with an 18-minute series of song-and-dance excerpts from Show Boat. It's the best thing about the movie. From there on, we're in for a series of largely over-produced Kern production numbers featuring a list of MGM stars, interrupted by dull narrative, fictional key characters and some terribly corny dialogue.
"Look down at that city, Jerry," says Victor Herbert to Kern one night in New York after Kern has been shaken by the death of an important person in his life. "It's made up of millions of people," Herbert continues, "and music has played a part in all their lives...lullabies...love songs...hymns...anthems." Kern gazes down at the city. "Must be pretty wonderful, Mr. Herbert, to realize that people you don't even know and never will know are singing your songs, and all of them asking for more Victor Herbert music." "It makes me feel grateful, Jerry," Herbert says, "and very humble. One of these days you'll find out for yourself how it feels."
This is the kind of dialogue that tells you the writers don't think much of the audience. Unfortunately, and with the exception of Van Heflin in the fictional role of Kern's friend and mentor, the actors give, in my opinion, almost uniformly flat performances in handling the story line. Robert Walker, who has to carry the movie as Jerome Kern, comes across as so wise, understanding and dignified that it's too easy to lose sight of a talented actor. Walker excelled at playing charming, almost innocent and often amusingly subversive young men. Later, he showed he could play charming and not-so-innocent psychopaths. Here, the role gives him no room or air. It's difficult to believe he didn't break out laughing after shooting some of his scenes.
The movie features at least 20 production numbers, ranging from that 18-minute Show Boat excerpt to snippets of Kern's songs. The numbers, for me, are at their best when they are presented more-or-less directly without all those MGM production values. Lena Horne is terrific singing "Why Was I Born?" Lucille Bremer and Van Johnson have fun with a nightclub number of "I Won't Dance." Ray MacDonald and June Allyson do nice jobs with "Till the Clouds Roll By," "Leave It to Jane" and "Cleopaterer." Angela Lansbury is saucy and smooth doing a Cockney number. Judy Garland playing Marilyn Miller has two major numbers, both directed by her then-husband, Vincente Minnelli, which are so glossy and powerful they almost bring the movie to a halt. But we also have to endure Kathryn Grayson with her shrill vibrato, Tony Martin, a hugely skilled singer but, in my view, mannered and self-aware, and Gower Champion, looking frozen and almost grim as he dances with Cyd Charisse. In between these extremes are a variety of other numbers, most of which are worth watching.
Kern died before the movie was completed so Arthur Freed and company shot a kind of tribute to Kern to close the movie. Many of the stars who had appeared earlier in the film shot parts of Kern's songs that he wrote after Show Boat. Freed put these together in a sort of staged medley. The sequence seems awkward to me. Everyone is dressed in white. The male singers and dancers wear red bow ties with their white tuxes. The set is a kind of white wedding-cake tower that floats. The sequence and the movie ends with a skinny young Frank Sinatra in a white tux standing on a white pillar in front of a white-garbed orchestra singing "Ol' Man River."
Till the Clouds Roll By has some virtues, but on balance it suffers greatly from two things. The narrative story-line is far too reverential and cloying. Second, as with all the other filmed musical biographies of the great American songwriters -- such as Rodgers & Hart, Gershwin and Cole Porter -- great chunks of the story are false. How good it would have been if the studios had trusted the audience enough to eliminate the false drama in these biographies and used the time to put in more examples of the composers' great songs.
"Look down at that city, Jerry," says Victor Herbert to Kern one night in New York after Kern has been shaken by the death of an important person in his life. "It's made up of millions of people," Herbert continues, "and music has played a part in all their lives...lullabies...love songs...hymns...anthems." Kern gazes down at the city. "Must be pretty wonderful, Mr. Herbert, to realize that people you don't even know and never will know are singing your songs, and all of them asking for more Victor Herbert music." "It makes me feel grateful, Jerry," Herbert says, "and very humble. One of these days you'll find out for yourself how it feels."
This is the kind of dialogue that tells you the writers don't think much of the audience. Unfortunately, and with the exception of Van Heflin in the fictional role of Kern's friend and mentor, the actors give, in my opinion, almost uniformly flat performances in handling the story line. Robert Walker, who has to carry the movie as Jerome Kern, comes across as so wise, understanding and dignified that it's too easy to lose sight of a talented actor. Walker excelled at playing charming, almost innocent and often amusingly subversive young men. Later, he showed he could play charming and not-so-innocent psychopaths. Here, the role gives him no room or air. It's difficult to believe he didn't break out laughing after shooting some of his scenes.
The movie features at least 20 production numbers, ranging from that 18-minute Show Boat excerpt to snippets of Kern's songs. The numbers, for me, are at their best when they are presented more-or-less directly without all those MGM production values. Lena Horne is terrific singing "Why Was I Born?" Lucille Bremer and Van Johnson have fun with a nightclub number of "I Won't Dance." Ray MacDonald and June Allyson do nice jobs with "Till the Clouds Roll By," "Leave It to Jane" and "Cleopaterer." Angela Lansbury is saucy and smooth doing a Cockney number. Judy Garland playing Marilyn Miller has two major numbers, both directed by her then-husband, Vincente Minnelli, which are so glossy and powerful they almost bring the movie to a halt. But we also have to endure Kathryn Grayson with her shrill vibrato, Tony Martin, a hugely skilled singer but, in my view, mannered and self-aware, and Gower Champion, looking frozen and almost grim as he dances with Cyd Charisse. In between these extremes are a variety of other numbers, most of which are worth watching.
Kern died before the movie was completed so Arthur Freed and company shot a kind of tribute to Kern to close the movie. Many of the stars who had appeared earlier in the film shot parts of Kern's songs that he wrote after Show Boat. Freed put these together in a sort of staged medley. The sequence seems awkward to me. Everyone is dressed in white. The male singers and dancers wear red bow ties with their white tuxes. The set is a kind of white wedding-cake tower that floats. The sequence and the movie ends with a skinny young Frank Sinatra in a white tux standing on a white pillar in front of a white-garbed orchestra singing "Ol' Man River."
Till the Clouds Roll By has some virtues, but on balance it suffers greatly from two things. The narrative story-line is far too reverential and cloying. Second, as with all the other filmed musical biographies of the great American songwriters -- such as Rodgers & Hart, Gershwin and Cole Porter -- great chunks of the story are false. How good it would have been if the studios had trusted the audience enough to eliminate the false drama in these biographies and used the time to put in more examples of the composers' great songs.