MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE

New Zealand Listener, Volume 16, Issue 393, 3 January 1947, Page 24

MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE

(Paramount)

RDINARILY, in the matter of Messrs. Hope and Crosby, I do not feel like the hero in The Beggars’ Opera who sang "How happy I

could be with either were t’other dear charmer away." That is to say, I prefer Bob accompanied by Bing, and vice ‘versa. But I nevertheless did enjoy Monsieur Beaucaire, which is full of Hope but contains almost nothing else -there’s precious little faith and charity, and certainly neither rhyme nor reason. There is also nothing of the original Booth Tarkington romance (which once served as a screen vehicle for Rudolph Valentino) except the title, the setting in and around the court of Louis XV, and the fact that the story has something to do with a barber. Only this time it is the barber (Bob Hope) who impersonates a Dook (Patric Knowles), whereas, if my memory serves me right, the first Beaucaire was a Duke who posed as a barber. Still, if it comes to that, this new film is no more unfaithful to its original

than the average screen adaptation, and it gives Hope much scope for his familiar brand of poltroonish buffoonery; going hot foot after romance and adventure, but suffering from cold feet whenever he encounters opposition or the merest breath of danger. The romance comes in the quite shapely forms of a chambermaid at the Court of France (Joan Caulfield) whom the barber loves, and of the Spanish Infanta (Marjorie Reynolds) whom he doesn’t love but is supposed to marry, in his guise as nobleman. The danger comes in the sinister aspect of a Spanish general (Joseph Schildkraut), who wants to assassinate the French Dook for the sake of precipitating a nice little war between France and Spain. However, 18th Century power politics and historical accuracy need not, and should not, worry the picturegoer. They did not worry the producers of the film. Nor will he be unduly concerned by the fact that the comedy at the outset is pretty laboured, and that the gag in the tail-piece is cheap and shop-worn, because as soon as Hope becomés properly tangled up in his impersonation of Great Lover and duelliste extraordinaire

the fun is fast and frequently furious, It reaches its peak in a fight, amid the instruments of an 18th Century salon orchestra, which is a good parody on the usual Hollywood duel. Hope is an excellent clown and this sort of thing suits him well; but he is as comical when handling a lorgnette as when handling a sword, and a white periwig sets off to advantage his perennial expression of shrinkirig bravado.