Posted on 08/17/2008 12:32:43 PM PDT by Homer_J_Simpson
The splendors of the French monarchy in its dying days have not simply been equaled, they have been surpassed by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayers film biography, Marie Antoinette, which is now in imperial, two-a-day residence at the Astor Theatre. And as far as Metro has surpassed her surroundings (the ballroom set has already been advertised as considerably bigger than the one at Versailles) Norma Shearer has surpassed the Queen herself, whose tragic and ineffectual figure was probably not nearly so much the dramatic center of all stages, especially with old Louis XV and the du Barry still extant, as Miss Shearer invariably contrives to be.
To say that the Habsburg minx as Miss Shearer plays her is spotlighted would be to express it feebly; she casts so deep a shadow, not only over France and Europe but on the rest of the cast, that at times it is necessary to look again in order to verify their familiar visages. Even John Barrymore, skulking in the general penumbra of self-effacement, is hard to recognize as the brilliant and domineering old tyrant whose reign was a practical endorsement of his great-grandfathers much-plagiarized epigram: I am the State! Only Tyrone Power as the romantically rather far-fetched Count Axel de Fersen is permitted to approach the luminous bounds of hteat divinity which hedges the Shearer throne, and he does so timidly, with due deference, and with the tender consciousness not so much of love as of second-billing in his eyes.
But after all, its the queens story (by Claudine West, Donald Ogden Stewart, Ernest Vajda and Stefan Zweig) and Miss Shearer seems to have been stuck with it as much as anybody. Her sincere efforts to breathe life into a weak script and to discount a marked unsubtlety of direction by personal histrionics are everywhere apparent, and it would not be fair to assume that any other screen actress could have made this particular Antoinette more real than she has done. She laughs, minces, coquettes, shed tears and at last ages with such courageous thoroughness that after the rapid execution sequence it was only by a process of deductive reasoning that we managed to determine the startling fact that it must have been she. What more could any actress do?
It was morally necessary to review Miss Shearer first; now, because it is frankly second in importance, let us consider the picture. Primarily, of course, it must be duly noted as a state occasion, with all the length and much of the solemnity of such affairs, and automatically listed as among the years more impressive offerings. Expensiveness in itself is impressive, and besides being the product of much expense, study and sincere effort to reanimate a dead world, Marie Antoinette has one sequence, that of the flight to Varennes the foredoomed effort of the royal family to escape across the country, disguised as travelers from Russia which crackles with suspense, pity and terror. And the final, sentimental scenes in prison, except for one or two jarring notes like the Midwestern accent of the young Dauphin, are almost touching.
As a whole, though, the script must be blamed for what, with the history of an era to draw from, is a surprising ineptitude of characterization. By whose authority do the authors treat a Barrymore (not to mention a Bourbon) like a nonentity? Dare to show us du Barry, the most amusing woman in France, as a middle-aged bore? Paint Louis XVI iven blacker than history does as a neurotic imbecile, and force the conniving Duke of Orleans to appear as a rouged caricature of Joseph Schildkraut? As for Yrone Power, frankly, we have a special crow to pick with Metro about him. We accept the Swedish Count Axel de Fersen; we dont even contest his authenticity as the only romantic interest in the Queens life, but for Mr. Power, we want to see documents.
B. R. C.
This is the first review I have posted that was not written by Frank Nugent and the first that really hammers the movie. I wonder what it all means.
See if you can find a King Kong review (original movie)
Photo Shoppers — Wouldn’t this be a great headdress on Nancy Pelosi? Ms. “Let them eat cake” of the No Oil crowd?
It means that Norma Shearer was the star of the movie. She was known to be the mistress of William Randolph Hearst, and the left, including most of the press, and what was then the newer Hollywood types HATED Hearst and anything connected with him. The best example of this prejudice was the cruel parodies of Hearst and Shearer in Citizen Kane.
IIRC the mistress of WRH was Marion Davies. Norma Shearer was married to producer Irving Thalberg.
LOL. I thought this was about the recent “Marie Antoinette” with Kirsten Dunst. A real POS. I was foolish enough to buy a ticket for it in a moment of utter boredom (thinking at least I’d be entertained by the depictions of the French Royal Court), but it was so bad I walked out.....
- from the autobiography of Robert Morley
Thanks for an interesting contribution to the thread. I confess I had no idea who Robert Morley was. I looked him up on imdb.com where “Marie Antoinette” is listed as his first acting gig.
"I was lucky to be in Hollywood at just the right time. Usually I find that I arrive too early or too late ... But in Hollywood, when I was there in 1938, life was very grand indeed. The film industry dominated Los Angeles; there were few oil derricks and fewer aircraft factories, and the great industrial development of the West was only just beginning to get under way. Best of all there was no smog. This is the place, we told ourselves. Why on earth didn't we discover it sooner?"
...
"Shearer reminded me of Marie Tempest. Both were small women possessed of immense determination and few illusions about themselves. Both were stars because they had decided that that is what they wanted to be. Shearer had many more obstacles to overcome than Mary. Her voice wasn't particularly pleasing, and she was by no means a good actress, but her determination was, if anything, the greater. She could leaf through a hundred photographs of herself in a couple of minutes and know exactly which should be passed for publication and which destroyed. Her knowledge of lighting was as great as the cameraman's, and she could tell from a dozen lights beating on her which one was likely to cast the wrong shadow."
I couldn’t do it. ‘Marie Antoinette’ was in the DVD player all through the long weekend. After several sittings I was through about 2/3 of the film. Granted I was distracted by other events over the last few days, but normally that would not prevent me from watching an old movie. Today it goes back to Netflix. I understand the silence in Mayer’s screening room.
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