What many people don’t know is that I started in musical theater before I got into filmmaking, so my familiarity with Guys and Dolls, in all its incarnations, goes back a long way. (Fun fact: Did you know that Damon Runyan’s character of Sky Masterson was actually based on famed Western lawman Bat Masterson, who actually lived the last part of his life in NYC?). And the plain fact remains: I’ve never liked the show to begin with so director Joseph L. Mankiewicz (All About Eve) and his creative team had their work cut out for them if they were going to change my mind.
There is one key improvement the film makes over the show and that relates to the character of Sarah Brown. As written in the show, Brown is a flat, uninteresting character, but here Jean Simmons, with the help of some fine rewriting by Mankiewicz elevates the character to a new level and gives her much-needed depth. I have already expounded upon the wonders of Jean Simmons in the blog for The Robe and her legend increases here. Apparently, she even used her own voice for the songs, which is noble, even though she struggled on some of them (as did co-star Brando). Her version of “If I Were a Bell”, though, is even better than the original from the show, especially given the change in orchestration from a soprano ballad to an upbeat alto song. As a matter of fact, the best scenes in the whole film are the snappy dialogue scenes between Brando and Simmons, those scenes in which they really get to act. It seems that Mankiewicz really took his time to work on these scenes – especially as a writer – and improve on a part of the show that came off as trite.
Conversely, he seems to have de-emphasized the most memorable character from the show, Adelaide, played in both versions by Vivian Blaine. One of her key songs (“A Bushel and a Peck”) was cut (or actually replaced with something less memorable), the balance of screen time severely shifted toward the other couple and her more famous punch lines that would draw guffaws in a live audience seem to flounder and die on the screen. The film is really long as it is, so I guess something had to go – it’s just odd that Mank (Mr. Mankiewicz’s nickname throughout his career) would trifle with one of the keys to the success of the show.
The biggest disappointment in the film version of G&D are the musical numbers themselves and as you can imagine, in a movie musical, that’s a big problem to have. Too much screen time was given to choreographer Michael Kidd to play with – his dancers are often acrobatic, but rarely are they (and their blocking) interesting enough to warrant the time spent on them (Kidd does a much better job in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers). The opening sequence is a perfect example – Kidd seems to be doing an homage to the final sequence in 42nd Street with his dancers/performers doing little vignettes to give the flavor of the Times Square life at the time. But Kidd is no Busby Berkley. First of all, Berkley was less than a choreographer with dancers than he was with the camera. Secondly, Berkley was a better storyteller. Kidd’s vignettes are lifeless and boring – Berkley managed to weave tap dancing, comedy, fun, high drama, sex and political commentary all into the six or seven minute sequence. Kidd barely manages a laugh here. I’m surprised Mankiewicz gave him that much of a leash – it seems a much better opening would have been a long track through the streets (sans vignettes) into a tight shot of the racing forms. The racing horn starts. Pull out to reveal out three singers and start the fugue. There’s your opening – efficient, cinematic and effective…
I don’t mean to wholly blame Kidd for the failure of the numbers. Mankiewicz is also culpable - he doesn’t seem to know how to shoot a musical sequence. The shot choices are unusual and often poor. Musical sequences and dances require more coverage than usual – they need to match the rhythm of the music and perhaps more importantly, the shot choices have to take advantage of being a movie. In other words, Mank frequently used static long shots, presumably shot on a soundstage. How is it really all that different from seeing it on stage? (For a good example of movie musical filmmaking, check out Meet Me in St. Louis – Minnelli’s masterpiece of the usage of the camera and the mise-en-scene). You can certainly argue that I had a predisposition against Guys and Dolls to begin with and that explains my negativity. And there’s something to that – I only like two or three of the songs, I don’t like the stylized way in which the gamblers talk and worst of all, the story just isn’t that good. I heartily commend Mankiewicz for his efforts to shore up the screenplay, but it seems even some of Hollywood’s greatest can’t turn water into wine.