A straightforward, non-musical adaptation of Giacomo Puccini's immortal opera, this early version of the classic story is based solely on David Belasco's original play. In other words, there is no actual opera present (although some of Puccini's magnificent score is used as underscore) and the film plays out completely as straight drama. The screenplay does not make any considerable attempt to disguise its stage-bound origins, although the Russian-born director Marion Gering (who helmed many pictures for star Sylvia Sidney) does a competent job of approximating the look and feeling of war-era Japan. This was decades before on-location filming became a standard practice, and the film's art design and set decoration manages to perform the difficult task of disguising the Paramount lot as such another distinct country within comparatively meager resources.
The luminous Sylvia Sydney takes a significant gamble in attempting to play the young Japanese girl Cho-Cho San (in fact, such casting would undoubtedly be seen as politically incorrect today), however, the Bronx-born actress is more than up to the challenge and delivers quite a totally convincing performance. The character of Cho-Cho is so incredibly passive and naïve that she often comes dangerously close to becoming an artificial caricature, yet Sydney portrays the role with such genuine pathos and non-cloying sweetness that she comes across as tragic rather than foolish. Her accent also always sounds credible, and she even manages to believably look Japanese with the assist of limited stage makeup. I was terribly impressed wither her overall performance.
A young Cary Grant ably plays the object of Cho-Cho's tragic love, and he looks breathtakingly handsome in his Navy uniform. The bulk of the movie consists of Sydney and Grant playing off one another, although Charles Ruggles is likable as Grant's fellow Lieutenant. Perhaps the biggest surprise is that Shelia Terry's "other woman" character is portrayed as being sympathetic and understanding, when she would have surely been written and acted as a one-dimensional monster by most filmmakers of the era. None of the characters in the "Japanese" supporting cast (nearly all of whom are American-born actors playing Japanese) are fleshed out enough to stand out, although Edmund Breese is convincing as Cho-Cho's stereotypically disapproving grandfather.
If the film has a primary shortcoming, it is that the entire premise feels a little flat when performed as a straight drama. Although it is well-written and reasonably paced, the drama simply does not soar to the appropriate level of intensity without the accompanying swell of the opera. There is still much to recommend, however, in this very touching picture, primarily the terrific performance of Sydney, which is worth watching totally on its own merit. I really do wish this film would be properly released on home video, as it deserves to be seen.
The luminous Sylvia Sydney takes a significant gamble in attempting to play the young Japanese girl Cho-Cho San (in fact, such casting would undoubtedly be seen as politically incorrect today), however, the Bronx-born actress is more than up to the challenge and delivers quite a totally convincing performance. The character of Cho-Cho is so incredibly passive and naïve that she often comes dangerously close to becoming an artificial caricature, yet Sydney portrays the role with such genuine pathos and non-cloying sweetness that she comes across as tragic rather than foolish. Her accent also always sounds credible, and she even manages to believably look Japanese with the assist of limited stage makeup. I was terribly impressed wither her overall performance.
A young Cary Grant ably plays the object of Cho-Cho's tragic love, and he looks breathtakingly handsome in his Navy uniform. The bulk of the movie consists of Sydney and Grant playing off one another, although Charles Ruggles is likable as Grant's fellow Lieutenant. Perhaps the biggest surprise is that Shelia Terry's "other woman" character is portrayed as being sympathetic and understanding, when she would have surely been written and acted as a one-dimensional monster by most filmmakers of the era. None of the characters in the "Japanese" supporting cast (nearly all of whom are American-born actors playing Japanese) are fleshed out enough to stand out, although Edmund Breese is convincing as Cho-Cho's stereotypically disapproving grandfather.
If the film has a primary shortcoming, it is that the entire premise feels a little flat when performed as a straight drama. Although it is well-written and reasonably paced, the drama simply does not soar to the appropriate level of intensity without the accompanying swell of the opera. There is still much to recommend, however, in this very touching picture, primarily the terrific performance of Sydney, which is worth watching totally on its own merit. I really do wish this film would be properly released on home video, as it deserves to be seen.
