Show Boat

Allan Jones and Irene Dunne in Show Boat

I rewatched James Whale's Show Boat and still feel it is one of the better musicals of the thirties. I am ambivalent about Whale's direction on this picture. He was riding high at Universal with the success of his horror films and was rewarded by the Laemmles with this prestige gig. The crowd scenes are clumsily handled, as are the dance numbers. Once we leave the boat in the third act, all momentum is lost. However, Whale's theatricality, as delineated by David Lugowski, and his expressionism largely jibe with the somber material. When Donald Cook sucks the blood from Helen Morgan's hand so he can legally claim that he has black blood in him, we are not far from a horror film.

Part of the sorrowful strength of this film can be traced to Edna Ferber's source novel. It is rare for a musical to have such dour romances as the ones Show Boat contains, but Ferber, happily unmarried, created a melancholy portrait of the toll transient show life takes upon sweethearts. Ferber is not much read these days, but her work has an intelligence and questioning spirit that didn't always translate into the film versions of Cimarron, Ice Palace, and So Big. This Show Boat is the least watered down of the three film versions, particularly as it pertains to miscegenation, and is certainly preferable to the gaudy Technicolor version from 1951.

Helen Morgan

A number of veterans of the stage show provide winning moments. The aforementioned Helen Morgan originated the role of Julie onstage and is a haunting presence only five years before her premature demise. To hear this grand torch singer assay "Bill" and "Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man of Mine" is to relive a moment of barely remembered American popular culture. Another member of the original stage production of 1927, Charles Winninger is a treat as Cap'n Andy. His summation of an abortive theatrical production is one of the highlights of the film and is a reminder of his roots in vaudeville. Paul Robeson and Hattie McDaniel are always a plus and the new number that the makers concocted for them is welcome, though I do mind the excising of "Life Upon the Wicked Stage".

The film's main drawback to me is Irene Dunne, my second least favorite Hollywood leading lady of that era behind the dreaded Greer Garson. Dunne had been signed by RKO after helming the first road show of Show Boat, so one might think she would have been a neat fit, but she clashed with Whale and, at thirty six, was too long in the tooth to be convincing as the virginal Magnolia. Her awkward shimmies during " Can't Help Lovin' That Man of Mine" detract from that number and her blackface routine is the film's nadir. She sings OK, but not as well as Allan Jones, who is less wooden than Nelson Eddy. The duets between the two are mildly pleasant, the number of profile shots of Ms. Dunne perhaps dictated by contractual decree.