The French Line
                         
Director: Lloyd Bacon
Year:  1953
Rating: 5.0
After being hit over the head with a sledge hammer in Child 44, I thought I deserved a light fluffy little film and what could be fluffier than Jane Russell in a corset, a bathing suit while playing shuffle board and various high fashion couture designs that bring a fair amount of attention to her main assets (though she refused to wear a bikini). Those doggies keep trying to escape, but she keeps them in line. To a large degree this isn't much more than a fashion show with more models than wine bottles in a rich man's cellar. This was shot in 3D so watching it on TV can't possible bring the same experience as there must have been a few times you wanted to duck - or perhaps not. None of this is too surprising once you realize that the Executive Producer is Howard Hughes who probably picked out all the models personally (one of them is an unknown Kim Novak but there were too many blondes for me to pick her out).



This was some thirteen years after Hughes in fact picked Jane Russell out of a slew of photos of aspiring actresses to star in his film about Billy the Kid. At the time she was a receptionist at a doctor's office without a lick of experience but there was just something he liked about her. Hughes had meant the film to showcase the male lead Jack Buetel, but after some publicity photos of Russell were shot in a haystack no one even remembered who Buetel was. Hughes directed The Outlaw after he took it over from the happily departing Howard Hawks and he made a mess of it while focusing instead on designing a bra for her that made things go pop. He put the film into storage for a few years but those photos were out there and Russell was a star of sorts but Hughes kept her in storage as well and it wasn't until The Paleface in 1948 with Bob Hope that she made a real appearance again - and then three years till her next film. Hughes had her on contract and there wasn't much she could do. From 1953 Russell began to appear in a number of RKO productions which Hughes owned at the time. Somewhere along the way, they discovered that Russell could sing and she was in the 20th Century Fox production Gentleman Prefer Blondes with Marilyn Monroe and that inspired Hughes to make this musical in the same year.




It seems like the ingredients are here for a musical with pizzazz but it just never takes off - the songs are serviceable at best and the choreography is scarce of any real dancing. The director is Lloyd Bacon, a real work horse who was lucky enough to have had Busby Berkeley working with him on 42nd Street, Footlight Parade, Wonder Bar (with the infamous black face number) and In Caliente - but without Busby the musical numbers are as flat as roadkill on the highway. The two leads don't exactly sizzle - actually fizzle - Russell for me is best in her tough roles - Macao, His Kind of Woman - here she seems out of place and Gilbert Roland playing a suave Frenchman with a Spanish accent just has gigolo coming out of every pore. Their romance is as believable as me running a four-minute mile. Between her Texas accent, her business partner's thick Texas accent and Roland's supposed French accent it was about all I could take - it was almost enough to make me watch La La Land again and wash those accents right out of my hair.



Poor little Mary Carson (Russell) can wrestle steers on her ranch but not a man it seems as one after another has ditched her - the latest one played by the always dapper Mark Stevens some five years before he became Peter Gunn to the world. Her problem? Oil wells keep springing up on her land - she is as rich as Croesus and men are intimidated or only interested in her money - ok probably not only interested in the money. So she books herself on a liner going to Paris under a different name so that no one will know her. Crawling out from his rock is Pierre (Roland) who throws every line he knows at her. But the catch is he really has no idea who she is and really loves her. And she him. You keep hoping some other guy will come along for her. Roland who was from Mexico started off in the silent era - had some big years with the Latin lothario act - but that doesn't play so well now. He just seems creepy. Back then not so much. It is all sort of idiotic and much duller than I expected. Still Russell fills out those outfits pretty well and one musical number of her bathing and dressing while teasing the audience is charming. The film was condemned by the Catholic League for her revealing clothes - and many states would only show the film if various edits were made to take out lascivious content - how times have changed.