GIGI
MGM, 1958 | COLOR (METROCOLOR)/CINEMASCOPE, 115 MINUTES
DIRECTOR: VINCENTE MINNELLI PRODUCER: ARTHUR FREED SCREENPLAY: ALAN JAY LERNER, BASED ON THE NOVELLA BY COLETTE SONGS: FREDERICK LOEWE (MUSIC) AND ALAN JAY LERNER (LYRICS) STARRING: LESLIE CARON (GIGI), MAURICE CHEVALIER (HONORÉ LACHAILLE), LOUIS JOURDAN (GASTON LACHAILLE), HERMIONE GINGOLD (MADAME ALVAREZ), EVA GABOR (LIANE D’EXELMANS), JACQUES BERGERAC (SANDOMIR), ISABEL JEANS (AUNT ALICIA), JOHN ABBOTT (MANUEL)
A turn-of-the-century Parisian gamine is groomed to be the mistress of a wealthy young playboy.
Whether or not it’s the greatest, Gigi represents a kind of thrilling culmination of one cornerstone of the movie musical: the MGM productions of Arthur Freed. It’s a long path from The Broadway Melody to Gigi, and Freed was there the whole time. For him and for Vincente Minnelli, Gigi was a joyful climax, with a truckload of Academy Awards as the icing on the cake. Both sweet and roguish, Gigi remains a tasty and supremely elegant soufflé of delight, proof once again that it takes an enormous amount of toil to produce something that can appear this effortless.
Contrary to some notions, Gigi was not MGM’s answer, with a French accent, to My Fair Lady. The original Colette novella had been published in 1944, filmed in France in 1949, and two years later became a non-musical Broadway play starring a young Audrey Hepburn. That was when Freed began to think about it as a possible musical, with censorship as the main obstacle: in the Eisenhower era, the notion of training a mistress seemed completely immoral. Ultimately, Freed won clearance by assuring the Production Code Administration that making Gigi a musical would soften the plot’s harsher edges. My Fair Lady had opened by this time, and Freed engaged its key personnel—Lerner, Loewe, and designer Cecil Beaton. Another defining choice came with Freed’s contention that a studio mockup could never compare with genuine Parisian locations. Here, Maxim’s and the Jardin des Tuileries and the Palais de Glace are all real, and a long way from the faux-français soundstage of An American in Paris.
“I’m Glad I’m Not Young Anymore”: Maurice Chevalier
Gigi displays many kinds of perfection: an ideal cast, the score, Beaton’s designs, and Minnelli’s unerring instincts for where to put the camera and how to stage the action. There is also, in a larger sense, the rightness of its place in the musical film continuum. Like Singin’ in the Rain, it compels the musical’s past and present to come together in a grand duet of tradition, skill, and joy. This is most evident with the participation of Maurice Chevalier. He had been there at the dawn of movie musicals and, nearly thirty years later, was still (say it with its French pronunciation) formidable. From “Thank Heaven for Little Girls” on, he is the warm and wise anchor for all the action—Lerner’s benevolent Greek chorus. “I Remember It Well” is almost overwhelming in its wistful resonance and, late in the proceedings, he has an irresistible chance to sum up his career and even take a bow. To conclude “I’m Glad I’m Not Young Anymore,” he takes out his trademark straw hat and exits the screen doing the same music hall strut that had been delighting audiences for fifty years. In one sublime and joyous moment, Gigi and Chevalier allow us to see the entire history of the movie musical, past, present, and even future.
Leslie Caron
The rightness of much of Gigi is just enough to remind us that no, it’s not entirely ideal. Some will wish for more dancing, the wit can occasionally seem calculated, and some modern viewers may take issue with some of the story’s undertones. Still, even a moment or two of unease shouldn’t mar the brilliant and graceful remainder. The happy fact is that Gigi remains as much of a charmer as she ever was, and always worthy of another champagne toast.
WHAT’S MORE
The Paris authorities felt that previous movie companies coming to their city had been obtrusive, destructive, and traffic snarling, and they were far from happy that the Gigi crew planned to cut a wide swath through the City of Light. Consequently, they made sure that Minnelli and his associates were kept on a tight rein. The shoot at Maxim’s was especially nerve-racking, yet, due to meticulous organization and some luck, it all ended up without major material or human casualties.
Leslie Caron, Maurice Chevalier, Hermione Gingold, Louis Jourdan
Leslie Caron had sung in her previous four-letter MGM hit, Lili, and originally believed she’d be singing Gigi’s songs as well. As with other stars before and after her, it ended up otherwise, with Caron’s songs dubbed by Betty Wand. The original tracks made by Caron survive and her version of “The Parisians” is especially delightful.
MUSICALLY SPEAKING
“Say a Prayer for Me Tonight” was originally written for My Fair Lady and sung by Eliza before the Embassy Ball. Cut during the show’s out-of-town tryout, it was exhumed by Lerner and Loewe and given to Caron/Wand. Not unexpectedly, Gigi’s songs drew criticism in some quarters for being inferior copies of those in Fair Lady. The title song, in particular, was alleged to be a clone of “I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face.” Not true, not fair, and Salut! to Lerner and Loewe.
