My thoughts on the BBC Doco:
Visually beautiful and skillfully constructed, I have to compliment
Mark Kidel on his excellent film work. The blending of still photos,
film clips, and venues connected with Mario, with appropriate music
and dialogue, is splendid. It held my complete attention from
beginning to end. What struck me was how vibrant Mario looked. The
television screen seemed too small to contain him as I imagined him
bursting out at any moment to join me! On our previous forum, I
believe Lou mentioned how his "larger-than-life charisma" impressed
her. Multiply that excitement by the size of the screen in a movie
theater and you'll get an idea of how I felt when I saw him in The
Toast of New Orleans! If I had been old enough to stay out at night,
I'd have stayed there, watching it over and over, until the theater
closed down!
We hear Mario singing many arias, operatic duets, and Italian songs
throughout the film, but most of the interviewees contended that Mario
was a movie star, only playing the role of an operatic tenor. They
played down, or totally ignored, the fact that he initially trained
for an operatic career and that that was his ultimate goal in life. I
found this to be a glaring irony. Whose voice did they think they
heard on those glorious recordings? He wasn't miming to another
voice. It was genuine Lanza, all the way! Comments like:
"impersonating an opera singer", "pop singer who sang opera", "Tom
Cruise with a voice", "frightened by the fast rise to fame without
deserving it", and "didn't like to perform 'live'", make me sad. I
think Mario would be sad as well.
Of all the participants, only Armando discussed his musical
potential. They all agreed that Mario's voice was beautiful and
extraordinary, but they didn't understand Mario's goals for himself.
Armando explained how Mario approached the role of Rodolfo (as we hear
him singing Che Gelida Manina), and how he, physically and vocally,
became that character. He went on to contend that Mario could have
eclipsed Caruso with his tremendous gift if he had not gone to
Hollywood. I found his assertion interesting that the huge success
of The Great Caruso was when Mario's inner conflict began. The film
made him a star to be reckoned with, but he was not accepted as a
serious classical artist. Critics, who had always been generous in
their reviews of his concerts, were replaced with insensitive
Hollywood types who mercilessly picked him apart for his appearance or
some behavior they didn't like. It had nothing at all to do with his
singing. They had no idea that a talented and creative artist like
Mario was high-strung and extremely sensitive to such criticism.
Inside, he was Mario Lanza/Freddy Cocozza, who was going to sing great
roles on the operatic stage. He considered this movie and radio
business only a temporary hiatus from his dream. Surely he would get
back on track, but in the meantime, the money was good....
But, I'm getting ahead of myself. The beginning of the Lanza story
contained important omissions critical to Mario's musical history.
After the mention of Serge Koussevitzky's name, the story goes
practically straight to his Hollywood career. It paused to tell of
his army recruitment and marriage, but what of his operatic
performances at Tanglewood, his filling in for Jan Peerce on the Great
Moments in Music radio program, Rosati's coaching influence, and his
singing with Frances Yeend and George London in concerts? All of these
had positive musical influences on Mario. A couple of quotes by any of
them would have been welcome. I'd love to see a program from one of
those concerts, as we probably would be surprised by the amount of
operatic music Mario sang, but never recorded. Singled out by critics
for his gorgeous voice, Mario seemed to be the tenor darling of the
day! But, no, we are plunged into the movie years. I must admit it
is delightful seeing Mario playing naturally and effortlessly on the
screen. In all but Seven Hills of Rome, he sings some operatic
material, usually dressed in costume.
We are rightfully treated to many clips from The Great Caruso,
considered the pinnacle of Mario's film career. I would venture a
guess that this was also the time when Mario realized his fifty-fifty
yearly split between making films and studying for opera was not to
be. As Mannering stated: "Mario captured the essence of a romantic
operatic tenor and, thus, paid a great tribute to Caruso." My thought
is that Mario paid himself the greatest tribute as he was in excellent
voice and sang beautifully - maybe better than Caruso? Mannering
feels the comparison with Caruso put pressure on Mario. I disagree
here too. Mario was secure in his vocal ability, which was further
strengthened by the respect he received from the Met stars that
appeared with him. (An aside: did you notice that Mario was shorter
than Jarmila Novotna?)
After TGC, Al Teitelbaum asserts that, as cooperative as Mario had
been on previous films, he did a 180-degree turn for Because You're
Mine. This isn't hard to believe, as it was as different a vehicle as
one could imagine. Mario might have balked at the beginning, but,
according to Armando's book, all principals were friendly in the end.
For the most part, the music in this film is respectable.
Mario's good spirits returned with the prospect of portraying Prince
Karl in the Student Prince. As I recall, he had not gained a lot of
weight before recording the music. Mannering commented on the
marvelous ease with which these recording sessions went. Then all fell
apart when filming began. The documentary only concentrates on Mario's
conflict with director Bernhardt as the reason for its failure.
Armando tells us in his book that other problems were present in his
life at the same time: his falling out with manager Sam Weiler (no
mention of him in the doco), over financial losses, the failure of
Pasternak to back him up in his request for another director, the
lasting effects from crash dieting for BYM. All these came hurtling in
on him at once and he wasn't strong enough to stay afloat. One scene I
thought was extraordinary at this point in the doco was a photo of
Mario's walking feet, panning up to the look of anger on his face.
Mario walked off the set and never returned. Consequently he was
fired, sued, and not allowed to work until the situation was
resolved. If Mario ever became insecure, I believe it was the result
of all these overlapping catastrophes. He discovered the dark side of
fame and became despondent over being letdown by his studio, and those
who took advantage of him financially without helping his career. His
talent didn't "frighten him", and his "sudden rise to fame" didn't
cause an identity crisis.
When Mario was allowed to work again, Al Teitelbaum became his
manager. Mark Ridel suggested that this would have been a good time
for Mario to return to opera. At the very least, RCA might have
benefited by putting him back in the recording studio for some serious
work. Teitelbaum's solution was to commit Mario to a television
appearance on the Shower of Stars and a disastrous nonevent in Las
Vegas. Mannering claims, "people implored" Mario to return to opera
after the fiasco. He doesn't name the "people". He himself thought
the post Serenade period was better as Mario's voice was richer by
then.
I'm puzzled by Mannering's statement that, with the filming of
Serenade, "Mario's sense of purpose was not the same". (?) Sarita
Montiel was a breath of fresh air. Derek McGovern recently lamented
how the scene between Mario and Sarita was not one of Mario's best. I
agree, but I think it was chosen as an introduction to Sarita. I wish
they had used the Ave Maria scene instead as it shows both in a
touching situation. She remembered Mario as a "big singing actor,
always natural". I don't agree with her statement that Mario thought
his weight made him unattractive. To the contrary, I don't he worried
about that at all. The studio forced him to diet.
After the poor reception of Serenade, Mario decided to move to Italy.
Eddy Lovaglio was probably correct in thinking Mario was looking for
his roots. She further astutely observed that Mario was tired of
people seeing his face on dollar bills! (He realized he had become a
meal ticket for too many!) Armando said that Mario felt at home in
Italy where he was very warmly received by the Italian people.
The subject of Mario's supposed womanizing came up, with most of the
chatter contributed by photographer Murray Garrett and Al Teitelbaum.
(Between Teitelbaum and Robinson, you can tell where Roland Bessette
got most of his information for his Lanza bio.) A scene taken from
Seven Hills was edited to look suspicious. Mario gave Marisa Allasio
his coat to wear while her clothes dried. We see her changing and the
very next view looks like Mario is present! Actually he had left the
train compartment and wasn't there at all! Talk about selective
editing! How I loved seeing the fountains in the Piazza Navonna again
in the Arrivederci, Roma, clip. Helping the little Luisa earn a few
coins was touching (screechy voice or not).
Oh, a highlight for me was seeing an undistorted London Palladium
video, even though it was not shown in its entirety. Mario is truly
mesmerizing singing "live". His hands seem to reach out to embrace the
world. We are charmed once again by the handsome Mario on the
Christopher Show.
A case of sour grapes seems to best describe Peter Prichard's
interview. I'd swear he is still harboring resentment over being
knocked down by Mario. He certainly has a humorless manner about him.
Surely he knew of the genuine offers from the Rome Opera and La Scala,
but chose to comment instead about Mario's drinking and
unreliability.
All throughout the film we get glimpses of Mario as Canio singing
Vesti La Guibba as he appears in For The First Time. His genuine
visual sadness matches his exquisite singing of this aria. Come Prima
is warmly sung, but, what on earth is the ridiculous Pineapple Pickers
doing here? As bad as the song is, it also shows an unhealthy man -
extremely unflattering. I'd much rather see the Otello Finale - can't
get enough of Mario as Otello!
But the icing on the cake was seeing the room at the Valle Giulia
Clinic where Mario died. Senor Stopponi's account of Mario's last day
still puts a lump in my throat when I think about it. A lovely
touching few minutes that exhibit his still unresolved grief.
This documentary is a mixed bag, showing us an exciting, hugely
talented Lanza, but missing the point of Mario's true place in the
world of serious music. The majority of those interviewed seem intent
on promoting him as a popular singer. This is a disservice to Mario's
gift. In reality, where he belongs is among the association of great
operatic tenors. Perhaps there's some truth in Mannering's remark
that Mario's ability to sing Puccini and Cole Porter with consummate
ease and believability trapped him where he was. I'd prefer to think
of Mario as one of the great operatic voices who was able to do
whatever he wanted with his instrument - a feat unmatched by any other
operatic tenor. I'm sure most of us here on this forum will concur.
It's sad that he didn't have the insight to choose the best people to
help him work toward his beloved operatic goal. But we do have his
recordings to hear the phenomenal voice. Even though we don't have any
video of him appearing on the operatic stage, we do have clues as to
how he might have looked from his movies. Oh! What a magnificent and
impressive divo he'd have been!! What we do have will sustain us....
Muriel
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