I was able to do a search at the above for references to Lanza in the
book, and I found that he's actually discussed over a couple of pages.
The book also includes an excellent photo of him in Serenade.
Ms. Basinger takes a pretty dim view of Serenade, calling it
"essentially, a soap opera without merit" and the only film that Mann
ever made in which "his directorial presence cannot be fully felt",
but unlike the author of another recent study on Mann, she's fairly
kind to Mario:
"He was a magnificent tenor who became an overnight sensation in the
late forties only to fall quickly out of favour and suffer an early
death within a short decade. [...] Serenade gives Mann little to work
with except Lanza, who was actually a vibrant, self-confident
presence. He had real star quality, and presented a beefy,
down-to-earth look that wasn't associated with movie opera singers.
[...] Neither Montiel nor Lanza are great actors, but knows how to get
the best from them."
She then gives a few examples, and singles out Mann's artistic
highpoints in the film: "Whenever there is a chance to do something
creative Mann takes it: a rooftop musical number, a carnival sequence,
a melodramatic thunderstorm. In the main, however, Mann was in service
to Lanza."
Interesting! I don't agree, of course, that Serenade is "a soap opera
without merit" or that Sarita Montiel wasn't much of an actress. Far
from it, in fact. But it's good to see not only Lanza's vocal talent
being acknowledged, but also his screen presence -- and she's bang on
in her comments in that respect.
What she should have borne in mind, however, is that (as Armando
points in his book) Mann was more than a little distracted during the
making of Serenade because of his infatuation with Montiel -- and that
*that* may have accounted for the film lacking some of the usual Mann
touches.
One quote should have read: "Neither Montiel nor Lanza are great
actors, but MANN knows how to get the best from them."
Hmmn. While I'm willing to bet that the benevolent Mr. Croce has never
actually seen Serenade, and is simply parroting received critical
opinion, there's little doubt that the film is woefully
under-appreciated.
Even James M. Cain, on whose novel the movie was based, didn't have a
kind word to say about it, though he reserved his criticism for Lanza
-- not Mann -- while admitting that he'd never seen the entire film:
"[Lanza] drank and was always overweight and then he had to be dieted
down. A guy on a diet is cranky and disagreeable. Another thing, he
was convinced that Mario Lanza was the greatest singer who ever lived.
All Lanza was interested in was song cues. I never saw much of the
film version. It began coming in one night on television. My [fourth]
wife [Florence Macbeth] was an opera singer and liked this guy's
voice.
"I suspected him. I did not think that Mario Lanza did the intricate
cadenzas. I thought they were dubbed. I said, 'Do you mind if we cut
this *ghastly* thing off? God, did you ever see such a fantastically
horrible thing?' We cut if off, but I think she was annoyed with me.
My wife knew nothing about dubbing, so she doted on his voice." --
From Backstory 1: Interviews with Screenwriters of Hollywood's Golden
Age (1986).
What absolute rubbish from Cain!! Lanza's "intricate cadenzas" were
"dubbed"?! The most "fantastically horrible" film ever made? I can
only conclude that the ever-grumpy, hard-drinking Mr. Cain -- himself
a failed opera singer -- was having a fit of jealousy. (Or perhaps
he'd just been reading his contemporary Raymond Chandler's famous
putdown of him: “[Cain] is every kind of writer I detest, a faux naïf,
a Proust in greasy overalls, a dirty little boy with a piece of chalk
and a board fence and nobody looking”?)
I'd say that the film version of Serenade is well overdue for serious
reconsideration.
Yes, Mario does look bloated and unwell in the Ave Maria scene, but
for me the sweetness and believability of his acting here -- coupled
with that terrific piece of singing -- make this one of the most
memorable of all his film scenes.
Actually, years ago I remember reading a 1956 movie magazine article
on Serenade that quoted Anthony Mann as saying, "Just wait until you
see the Ave Maria scene. Mario's acting and singing will tear your
heart out!"
Mann knew what he was talking about.
Yes, the ending of the film is poor; in fact, that's a problem with
almost all of Lanza's films.
Cheers
Derek
"Leaving aside the non-operatic bits, I doubt whether on this showing Mr Lanza can hope to win any new admirers from among operagoers. The best things are the Italian tenor aria from the Rosenkavalier levée scene (Mr Lanza's vocal exuberancies and indulgences must have been just what Strauss had in mind when he wrote this piece of musical satire) and the L'Arlesiana excerpt. The Otello duet with Licia Albanese is rather a travesty, with the soprano sobbing hysterically in the best Hollywood manner, and the tenor forcing his lyric voice unmercifully and making little or no sense of the words."
Revisiting Serenade
I just viewed this film (my favorite Lana movie) the other night and was, once again, re-minded of how good an actor the untrained Mario was. Yes, he was in a few “hammy” scenes, but in most of the film he was excellent IMO. He was brilliant in the Othello scenes (both singing as well as acting) and his Ave Maria was the BEST ever recorded. A shame he was not given more credit for this very interesting movie.
But, here is the part that always gets me and I think detracts from the movie: Are we to really believe that Mario is so smitten after one brief evening with Kendall Hale?. I realize the movie was long (maybe even too lengthy), but it lost much believability by NOT showing some sort of montage ( e.g. maybe a calendar flipping months) to show Damon becoming possessed by Kendall. Storming out of his very first lesson the night after the brief encounter with Kendall…really? Also, that start-up high C to begin the lesson was also pretty schmaltzy as well. I know Derek and others have commented on all these points, but this lack of direction almost makes me angry. What could have been, sigh.