"Even if the Queen liked him, would he be eligible to become the Queen's consort?" asks a courtier.
"Absolutely!" says the prime minister. "His great-grandfather was the illegitimate son of one king and his grandmother the sweetheart of another."
"I had no idea he came from such a distinguished family," says the minister of war.
And before long Count Alfred Renard (Maurice Chevalier), the former Sylvanian military attaché at the embassy in Paris, is being married to Louise (Jeannette MacDonald), Queen of Sylvania. We're halfway through the first musical Ernst Lubitsch made in Hollywood, and a delight it is. It's Ruritanian operetta, or rather Sylvanian operetta, but it shows what Lubitsch was doing to bring an early Hollywood cliché -- musicals filmed with cameras pointed straight at the stage-bound musical numbers -- into what the musicals, influenced by Lubitsch, became. The effervescent and amusing songs, with music by Victor Schertzinger and lyrics by Clifford Grey, for the most part come from the plot. The camera moves fluidly. The actors don't play to the camera except when Lubitsch deliberately has them do so.
Most importantly, the movie is a delight. For a generation or two who uneasily know of Maurice Chevalier only as an old man telling us how much he loves little girls, Chevalier in his prime shows us why he became such an international star. The man is sexy, charming, worldly and likable. He has a self-deprecating sense of humor. His Alfred Renard is a womanizer of the old school he doesn't love them and leave them, he loves them and leaves them smiling, as satisfied as he is. Jeannette MacDonald is a revelation for those most familiar with her trilling a song in duet with the wooden Nelson Eddy. She's quite good as a light comedienne and manages to keep Chevalier from overshadowing her.
The story? Renard is recalled from Paris because of his scandalous doings with wives, maids and duchesses. He returns to Sylvania, where the Queen is prepared not to be amused. But Queen Louise also dreams of having a husband who loves her as a woman, not a Queen. She is beautiful, a bit imperious, and agrees that any husband of hers will not become the king, only a prince consort. And after the two marry, a case it appears of true love, will the Queen be smart enough to distinguish between the role of a prince consort and the role of her husband. And will Alfred be able to teach Louise a thing or two about being a wife as well as a Queen. Well, remember this is an operetta and anything but a happy ending would be awful. In fact, Lubitsch gives us an ending that is a deliberate reverse of the first wooing scene between the Count and the Queen. It is so unexpected, so clever and so affectionate, the only thing you can do is smile in appreciation.
Along for the story is Alfred's man's man played by Lupino Lane and a maid of the Queen played by Lillian Roth. They have a couple of comic numbers and are first rate, especially Lane. He was a great comic star in England who built into his acts physical business that might make the Nicholas Brothers envious. (And he also was Ida Lupino's uncle.)
The Love Parade is pre-Code. That's another way of saying that, as a Lubitsch film, it's naughty and sophisticated. With the Count and the Queen, sex is as much a part of love as a kiss. You might have one without the other, but it wouldn't be half as much fun.
"Absolutely!" says the prime minister. "His great-grandfather was the illegitimate son of one king and his grandmother the sweetheart of another."
"I had no idea he came from such a distinguished family," says the minister of war.
And before long Count Alfred Renard (Maurice Chevalier), the former Sylvanian military attaché at the embassy in Paris, is being married to Louise (Jeannette MacDonald), Queen of Sylvania. We're halfway through the first musical Ernst Lubitsch made in Hollywood, and a delight it is. It's Ruritanian operetta, or rather Sylvanian operetta, but it shows what Lubitsch was doing to bring an early Hollywood cliché -- musicals filmed with cameras pointed straight at the stage-bound musical numbers -- into what the musicals, influenced by Lubitsch, became. The effervescent and amusing songs, with music by Victor Schertzinger and lyrics by Clifford Grey, for the most part come from the plot. The camera moves fluidly. The actors don't play to the camera except when Lubitsch deliberately has them do so.
Most importantly, the movie is a delight. For a generation or two who uneasily know of Maurice Chevalier only as an old man telling us how much he loves little girls, Chevalier in his prime shows us why he became such an international star. The man is sexy, charming, worldly and likable. He has a self-deprecating sense of humor. His Alfred Renard is a womanizer of the old school he doesn't love them and leave them, he loves them and leaves them smiling, as satisfied as he is. Jeannette MacDonald is a revelation for those most familiar with her trilling a song in duet with the wooden Nelson Eddy. She's quite good as a light comedienne and manages to keep Chevalier from overshadowing her.
The story? Renard is recalled from Paris because of his scandalous doings with wives, maids and duchesses. He returns to Sylvania, where the Queen is prepared not to be amused. But Queen Louise also dreams of having a husband who loves her as a woman, not a Queen. She is beautiful, a bit imperious, and agrees that any husband of hers will not become the king, only a prince consort. And after the two marry, a case it appears of true love, will the Queen be smart enough to distinguish between the role of a prince consort and the role of her husband. And will Alfred be able to teach Louise a thing or two about being a wife as well as a Queen. Well, remember this is an operetta and anything but a happy ending would be awful. In fact, Lubitsch gives us an ending that is a deliberate reverse of the first wooing scene between the Count and the Queen. It is so unexpected, so clever and so affectionate, the only thing you can do is smile in appreciation.
Along for the story is Alfred's man's man played by Lupino Lane and a maid of the Queen played by Lillian Roth. They have a couple of comic numbers and are first rate, especially Lane. He was a great comic star in England who built into his acts physical business that might make the Nicholas Brothers envious. (And he also was Ida Lupino's uncle.)
The Love Parade is pre-Code. That's another way of saying that, as a Lubitsch film, it's naughty and sophisticated. With the Count and the Queen, sex is as much a part of love as a kiss. You might have one without the other, but it wouldn't be half as much fun.