La donna eterna

Anyone who loves epic music in pictures must see, or at least hear, this movie, which has little enough otherwise to recommend it other than its often striking visual inventiveness. It is, in a sense, the feminine flip side to "King Kong", and even shares certain thematic elements. My perspective is a bit unusual; I fell in love with the music when I was 16, years before I actually saw the film, by way of scratchy old transcription discs taped and distributed by the Max Steiner Music Society ages before "movie music" had won the respect it now enjoys. Steiner's score is in his most expressionistic mode, highly akin to "Kong" but more operatic; there is even a full-scale ballet in the last act! The music is a perfect accompaniment to Haggard's novel, of which I am also very fond despite its old-fashioned elements. I have this marvelous fantasy of a new remake, faithful to the book, with a new recording of Steiner's score! Alas, not too likely. Both the novel and the music are of an earlier age probably not commercial enough today. Helen Gahagan was actually an opera singer (years before becoming the famous "pink lady" of the Nixon campaign for California!) and her approach to the part is remote, perhaps more suited to a silent movie. Cinematographer Roy Hunt positively roasts the woman with light in an effort to give her an otherworldly quality. Randolph Scott and Helen Mack are both in way over their heads, although subsidiary actors like Samuel Hinds, Lumsden Hare, Noble Johnson and the immortal Gustav van Seyffertitz come off rather better. Nigel Bruce does his standard pompous British ass, which is a pity, as he was capable of much better. The decor is great fun: this is the palace of the Emperor Ming the Merciless' dreams, if only he'd had the budget! But the superb score overrides all else. It would probably not be appropriate for me to openly hawk CDs in this place, but the original soundtrack of this picture is available from Brigham Young University archive. Beg, borrow or steal it today! The ballet sequence is as powerful as anything in Stravinsky, and no higher praise is possible. A pity the movie is not equal to its soundtrack; but that's a problem Steiner ran into more than once in his career.