Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #11477 in VHS
• Released on: 1993-01-02
• Rating: NR (Not Rated)
• Formats: Black & White, NTSC
• Original language: English, French
• Number of tapes: 1
• Running time: 99 minutes

Amazon.com
The celebrated "Lubitsch Touch" is everywhere to be seen in this sumptuous soufflé of romantic silliness. The movie takes place in the miniscule mythical Eastern European principality of Marshovia, cousin to the Marx Brother's Freedonia (Duck Soup) and W.C. Field's Klopstokia (Million Dollar Legs). Marshovia's wealthiest widow, Sonia--she owns 52 percent of every cow--is wasting away in mourning. Her massive closets are packed with black: black veils, black shoes, black gowns, black corsets. But Sonia (Jeanette MacDonald, at the height of her bubbly blonde beauty) happens to look fabulous in black. Even from behind her veil, she is irresistible to Marshovia's master masher, Captain Danilo, the ever-randy, eternally charming Maurice Chevalier. (He leads Marshovia's army parade, singing, "Our country will never make war! We surrender to girls, girls, girls!") Sonia falls in love with Danilo, but when she hears all three of her maids recite his address from memory, down to the apartment number, she determines to put him out of her mind. This proves impossible, so it's off to gay Paree to drown her sorrows. It's Danilo's patriotic duty to win her back, for Marshovia will go bankrupt without her.

Franz Lehar's comic operetta was given swell, witty new lyrics by the incomparable songwriting team of Rodgers and Hart, along with Gus Kahn. The scenes of belle époque Paris--the cancan dancers at Maxim's and whirling waltzers at the embassy ball--are yummy. The film certainly deserved its Academy Awards for Interior and Art Direction; it's absolutely gorgeous to look at. Rivaled only by their earlier pairing in Rouben Mamoulian's Love Me Tonight, the twosome of MacDonald and Chevalier in The Merry Widow is pure delight. --Laura Mirsky

Amazon.com
Ernst Lubitsch's last musical teamed him with his two favorite performers, Maurice Chevalier and Jeanette MacDonald. It proved to be his last picture with either of the stars. Working with screenwriter Samson Raphaelson, he transformed the operetta that Erich von Stroheim had made in 1925 as a lavish silent melodrama into a frothy farce with wit, understatement, and a modicum of sexual innuendo. Chevalier stars as Danilo, the playboy captain of the guards sent to Paris to woo back the wealthy widow Sonia (MacDonald), whose purse strings control the kingdom's economy and could ruin it if she marries one of her doting French suitors. A merry game of mistaken identities, sparring romantics, and the teasing of would-be lovers lands Danilo in jail for treason and with true love his only hope. Chevalier plays his role with good cheer, gusto, and an ear-to-ear grin that wins over every lady on the screen, and MacDonald is at her sassy, sexy best, before her all-American image took hold in the Nelson Eddy musicals. From the opening shot, where a magnifying glass is brought to a map of Europe to pick out the tiny Kingdom of Marshovia, Lubitsch is in fine if somewhat restrained form, toning down his driest humor for the more stolid but luxurious MGM style. But he still sneaks in a couple of precode zingers: "Have you ever had diplomatic relations with a woman?" asks Ambassador Edward Everett Horton. Chevalier's sly smile is all the answer needed. --Sean Axmaker

Customer Reviews

One of the last, great Pre-Code musical comedy gems
This utterly delightful film stands as the ultimate condemnation for the shameful censorship that the Hays office would soon inflict on the movies. THE MERRY WIDOW was one of the very last Pre-Code films to be released before Hollywood was forced to mute all sexuality, prove in every film that crime didn't pay, and purify all on screen language of all improprieties. After 1934, all sex was decidedly nonsexual, married couples always slept in twin beds (full sized beds were banned as being too suggestive), criminals died or were arrested by the end of each gangster film, and all forms of naughtiness were ejected from the movies.

THE MERRY WIDOW would never have passed muster for the Hays office. Edward Everett Horton and Maurice Chevalier embrace and are assumed to be a gay couple by a police officer. One of the most important scenes in the film takes place in a brothel (Maxim's), and Jeanette MacDonald pretends to be a courtesan. The movie is laced with suggestive jokes and sexual interplay. And not only is there a king sized bed in the king and queen's bedroom, Chevalier and MacDonald make out on a day bed reserved for trysts between prostitutes and customers in Maxim's.

None of this would, however, rise above merely sociological interest except for the deft direction of Ernst Lubitsch. Like many of his best films, THE MERRY WIDOW is very nearly a textbook on how to construct a movie. Lubitsch did so many things so well, that it is difficult to focus on any one aspect of his virtuosity. No other comedic director in the history of cinema possessed his mastery of filmmaking. One could argue, in fact, that he and Hitchcock were the greatest masters of cinematic technique in the history of American cinema. There is an unbelievable tightness to his films, and this is especially true of THE MERRY WIDOW. His ability to transition from one scene to another is frequently breathtaking. He does so many things with so little apparent effort, that his mastery is sometimes easy to overlook. And whether working with a supporting cast of hundreds, with music, with huge sets, or with intimate comedy, Lubitsch was always in control of every aspect of the film.

One of Lubitsch's greatest gifts as a director of great comedy was his ability to surprise his viewers over and over. For instance, the king discovers that Maurice Chevalier has been romancing the queen. Instead of being an outraged and jealous husband, he is concerned that the servants not be aware of the scandal. The conversations that ensue are some of the most delightful that you could ever hope to find in the movies. Unfortunately, had this film been made in 1935 instead of 1934, the Hays office would probably have eliminated most of the dialog.

This movie is a must see for anyone who loves the history of film, who appreciates the work of one of cinemas greatest masters, and who loves a great film. But most of all, it should be seen by anyone who loves a delightful, funny, and just a tad risqué musical comedy.

A charmer that holds up well
This is the very best filmed version of Franz Lehar's delighful operetta. The cast is perfectly matched, the music and songs wonderfully rendered. Though black and white, one rapidly begins to see all the true color. This is a charmer from Hollywood's Golden Age that holds up well. Forget the 1952 version, it does not have the vitality of Ernst Lubitch direction, nor does it have a peak Maurice Chevalier nor the lovely Jeanette MacDonald. You will want to watch it many times, as a picker-upper.

Jeanette MacDonald in her greatest role
THE MERRY WIDOW is arguably Jeanette MacDonald's finest film, and is still regarded as one of the greatest musicals ever made by MGM.

The story concerns one widow, Sonia (Jeanette MacDonald), a beautiful young woman who owns 52% of the small kingdom of Marshovia. Sonia lives a life consisting of black dresses, black shoes, black corsets and black veils...even a black dog. Sonia decides to flee to the gay city of Paris, and swaps her dull attire for a new wardrobe, and a new outlook.

The King of Marshovia (Edward Everett Horton) and his flirtatious Queen (Una Merkel) decide to dispatch the handsome Count Danilo (Maurice Chevalier) to Paris in order to woo Sonia and her millions back into Marshovia...but Sonia has a few tricks up her own sleeves!

Filled with the timeless music of Franz Lehar's score, THE MERRY WIDOW is joyously directed by legendary Ernst Lubitsch, and Jeanette MacDonald literally sparkles in designer Adrian's lavish costumes.

Later re-made starring Lana Turner, Fernando Lamas and Una Merkel (refer to my review for this).