Copacabana Blu-ray Review
Her name is not Lola.
Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman, April 21, 2013
The days of vaudeville were rife with what were called "specialty acts", performers who had their own little niche carved
out that didn't fit into the more easily categorized definitions of singer, actor, comedian and the like. The Marx Brothers
kind of straddled the line between "specialty act" and comedy act, especially since they had elements like Harpo's
miming and harp playing. Carmen Miranda came along significantly after vaudeville had declined to a mere shadow of
its former self, but had she been around during vaudeville's heyday, there's little doubt that the so-called "Brazilian
Bombshell" would have been yet another "specialty act". The kind of sad thing about Miranda is that she was capable
of so much more than most of her American films ever allowed her to display, and whatever else you can say about
1947's
Copacabana, it at least gives Miranda the chance to show some decent comedy chops along with her
more typical fruit laden hat wearing song and dance numbers. Few people probably realize how successful Miranda had
already been before she matriculated to the United States in 1939, and in fact her long and distinguished career in
Brazil had resulted in enormous popularity both in films and on records. She was in fact Brazil's most popular musical
export until Sergio Mendes appeared in the sixties and stormed the pop charts with Brasil '66. (Interestingly, Miranda's
longtime musical director was the iconic Dorival Caymmi, whose son Dori Caymmi later worked with Mendes and wrote
Mendes' stunning early hit "Like a Lover".)
Copacabana has been unfairly maligned through the years as a
second rate pairing of a past their prime Marx and Miranda, but the film is still enormously entertaining, often quite
funny and if not the best film that either of its stars ever made, certainly an enjoyable enough romp to merit revisiting.
Those of you who are old enough to remember erstwhile
Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. star Jim Nabors and his freakishly
deep and operatic
singing voice may well have something akin happen when you hear Miranda's
basso profundo speaking voice,
something distinctly at
odds with her chirpy singing style. It actually adds a considerable, albeit no doubt unintentional, amount of comedy to
the proceedings
throughout
Copacabana. Miranda plays eponymous Carmen (Navarro), a singer-dancer from Brazil who has had
the misfortune to hook
up personally and professionally with one Lionel Q. Devereaux (Groucho Marx), a hustler without much talent who finally
figures out he'd be
better off representing Carmen as her manager rather than trying to book them as a duo act.
The rest of
Copacabana plays out in a sort of lunatic farcical ambience that recalls some of the early Marx
Brothers films, albeit without
the general air of anarchy and insouciance that made those outings so instantly (and eternally) memorable. The film
has some surprisingly
snappy dialogue, courtesy of original
Room Service co-author Allen Boretz. The film is awash in typical farce
elements like mixed up
identities and overly convoluted love triangles (even quadrangles), and also has a surfeit of silly sight gags.
While Lionel's revelation that hawking Carmen might be the smarter career path for both of them, it in and of itself
presents its own problems, especially when Carmen is presented to Copa club owner Steve Hunt (Steve Cochran), and
Hunt immediately wants to see the rest of Lionel's talent roster. Lionel's halting attempt to use the racing forum
doesn't exactly pan out, but real life club vocalist Andy Russell (Russell had had several Latin tinged hits of his own
throughout the forties) attempts to "help", creating a fictional
chanteuse on the spot named Fifi. Hunt
expresses interest in Fifi, even more so than Carmen, leaving Lionel in a bind, until he sees a cigarette advertisement
featuring a veiled woman. Suddenly, a masterstroke occurs to the always on the make Lionel: he'll simply veil Carmen
and pass her off as Fifi.
The rest of the film plays in a series of madcap episodes that sees Carmen becoming increasingly harried as she has to
quickly change between her identity as well as that of Fifi, as well as Lionel chasing every skirt that comes within
striking distance. Adding fuel to the farcical fire is Steve being attracted to Fifi and Steve's comely secretary Anne
(Gloria Jean) being attracted to
Steve. It's all patently silly, interspersed with several okay if not stellar musical
numbers, but all of it delivered with a surprising amount of spunk by both Miranda and Marx.
From a musicological perspective,
Copacabana offers some passing interest. The post-World War II era saw the
sudden rise in popularity of a lot of "new" (to America) Latin rhythms, including a lot of Cuban music and other
percussively driven offerings that would ultimately become homogenized as the "Exotica" movement in the fifties. The
bulk of the song score here is by Sam Coslow whose
ersatz contributions don't quite have the vivacity that
some of the "real" Latin tunes (like "Tico Tico") have. I'd be remiss if I didn't also include a brief word about director
Alfred E.
Green. His name may not be familiar to many of you, but he directed Bette Davis to an Oscar in
Dangerous and
had a hugely long and prolific career. Many of you who regularly read my reviews know that I spent many decades
attempting to unravel the truth about classic actress
Frances Farmer, and Green holds the
distinction of having been the director who worked the most with the tempestuous actress during her brief Hollywood
career, helming four of her features. Anyone who survived working with Frances Farmer certainly deserved a bit of a
holiday on a lark like
Copacabana. (Coslow actually wrote "Mr. Paganini", the fondly remembered comedy tune
warbled by Martha Raye in
Rhythm on the Range, a film which starred Farmer and Bing Crosby.)
Copacabana is often dismissed as having little of the wit and panache of the early Marx Brothers efforts and
indeed some of Miranda's Technicolor exotica. While that may be true, looking back on the film now from a perhaps less
judgmental vantage point, it's surprisingly zingy at times, with Marx and Miranda doing spectacular work as a long
bickering couple. Miranda has some goofily endearing facial expressions throughout this film, as if her visage were
made of silly putty, and both Miranda and Marx repeatedly break the fourth wall to visit asides to the audience. While
the romantic complications here are largely forgettable, as frankly is much of the score (save for the wonderful rendition
of "Tico Tico" Miranda offers early in the film),
Copacabana has actually aged surprisingly well and may surprise
even former detractors who may find unexpected comedic gems buried within an admittedly pretty tired general setup.