De-Luscious

by Arlene Guillen

While standing in line to see Delovely, I overheard two teenage girls talking over movie choices. When they got to Delovely, they were clueless. I'd been standing there thinking, Of course everyone knows what the title refers to and of course everyone knows who Cole Porter is. Perhaps I should get out a little more often.

So let us begin with the basics. Director/producer Irwin Winkler brings the story of songwriter Cole Porter to the big screen, in what may or may not be considered a musical. (You decide). Porter is one of the writers who built what is known as the Great American Songbook. The Songbook isn't really a book, but rather a name given to the catalog of songs written by American composers and lyricists, largely for Broadway and movies. Porter wrote for both mediums, and even if you don't know his name you would probably recognize his songs from watching Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra sing them in High Society. The movie gets its name from the title of a Porter tune, "It's Delovely." Sample lyrics: "It's delightful, it's delicious, it's. . .delovely."

If you were going to do a bio-pic on a songwriter, Porter would certainly be a good choice. His life was made of the stuff that most dream about--trustfunder, talented, sophisticated, living abroad. The fact that he was homosexual and ended up marrying a woman gave his life a little more complexity and makes him seem a bit more like a real person.

One of the issues people seem to have with this picture is the portrayal of Porter's homosexuality. In the 1946 movie Night and Day, Cary Grant plays Porter and there is no reference to his sexual orientation. That's no surprise, as it was 1946 and the movie would have never been allowed on the big screen. But there are those who believe they "sanitized" or glossed over Porter's homosexuality in Delovely, and expected something more.

Is there raucous sex and graphic kissing between Porter and his lovers? No. But there are scenes where Porter, played by actor Kevin Kline, embraces or kisses his lovers. Additionally, the discussions Porter has with his wife and his lovers regarding his sexual orientation are at the forefront of the movie. So while the scenes that establish his homosexual relationships are not in your face, they are presented within the context of the movie. The movie is about his relationship with his wife, and his homosexuality was a major part of it.

This brings us to Porter's relationship with his wife, Linda Lee Porter. Linda Lee was once called "the most beautiful divorcee in Paris" and she was wealthy in her own right. From all accounts the relationship was based on a deep friendship/love for one another and a shared love of Cole's music. In one scene, Linda, played by Ashley Judd, wonders aloud to Cole about the reasons people allow him so much latitude with his behavior. She comes to the conclusion that it's "all for a little music." Perfectly put.

Delovely paints a picture of Cole being the elder of the two and sort of a protector of Linda, while she unobtrusively pulls strings in the background to further his career. In reality Linda was significantly older than Cole (anywhere from eight to fourteen years, depending on what biography you read), and the movie has the shoe on the wrong foot. The age difference placed Linda in the position of protector and Cole reportedly looked to Linda for support and inspiration--as well as approval of a man with whom he was considering a relationship. To go further into psychobabble land, one could make the argument that Linda was a replacement for Cole's mother, who was an important figure in his life.

But all that aside, this is a marriage we're talking about and Kline and Judd do a good job of showing the kind of deep non-sexual relationship that marriages can have. There's a saying that "marriage is an arrangement of one kind or another." In the case of the Porters, their arrangement continued until Linda's death, at which time Cole's career, and later his life, quietly ended.

From a visual perspective, Delovely is gorgeous. As a period piece, it lets us see socialites attending decadent parties in Paris, and party guests arriving at the Porters' home via gondola in Venice. Great stuff. Ashley Judd's wardrobe alone is worth the price of admission.

One of the most memorable visuals in the movie is unfortunately not a great party scene, but the painful accident Cole has while horseback riding. The scene shows the horse falling on Porter's legs not once, but twice and is shot in such a way that makes you ache. In reality, a horseback riding accident caused Cole immense pain, over 25 operations, and eventually an amputated leg.

All of this is really a vehicle for Cole Porter's music and Delovely offers up eighteen of his songs. Some say it's a musical. Some say it's not. If you use a 1940's musical as your gauge where actors break into song periodically this probably wouldn't fit the bill. In fact there are only a few times when this happens in the movie. Most of the musical numbers are presented as an opening night scene for one of Porter's many Broadway shows, and they work in that context.

Now we get to the next bit of touchiness with this movie. Traditionalists are a bit defensive about the selection of singers used to sing these tunes, whereas those not familiar with the music see no offence. As a jazz lover, I'm somewhere in the middle and I think I see both sides of this fence. Sheryl Crow's version of "Begin the Beguine," will have most traditionalists crying sacrilege. The song is unrecognizable but she does a great job reinventing it. Diana Krall is her usual on-target self with her version of "Let's Fall In Love." And Alanis Morisette takes a turn with "Let's Do It (Let's Fall In Love)," that I think even the traditionalists can't argue with. While I truly appreciate a traditional version of a standard (yet another name given to songs from the American Songbook), it is appropriate for these songs to be recorded by a different generation of pop artists for an entirely new set of ears--like those that belong to the teenage girls standing in front of me in the ticket line. These songs are referred to as "standards" because they were once standard repertoire and everyone knew them. If the songs are to continue to have a life, they need to be sung for another generation or two in a different way, lest they be forgotten. (But it is always good to have a version or two by Ella Fitzgerald or Sinatra in the mix.)

Surprisingly some of the prettiest renditions are sung and played by Kevin Kline. Cole Porter did not have a good singing voice and Kline has altered his fine voice to match his character. Yet the result is touching. His versions are simple, and you get to hear how the song was probably conceived in the first place. "In The Still of The Night," is particularly beautiful.

The bigger problem with the renditions of these songs has less to do with how these artists sound, but more with how they look. At times, some of the artists are so modern in their look that they take the viewer out of the period, which can be disruptive to the experience. Sheryl Crow is one of the big offenders in this category. She is singing in a scene of a Broadway show opening and while she is perfectly costumed, you can't help but focus in on her incredible biceps, which are the result of a very successful modern day exercise program. Her whole persona exudes modern day woman. Perhaps a long-sleeved number would have helped in achieving a more convincing look? And then there is poor Diana Krall, whose featured scene has her playing the part of a girl singer. While they've clothed her and coiffed her for glamour, it doesn't come through. Additionally, this is a woman who normally sings behind a piano. She looks so uncomfortable it hurts. Then we have to endure Robbie Williams as the wedding singer at the Porters' wedding singing the title cut, "Delovely." His gyrations are somewhat embarrassing and perhaps someone should have coached him here. But the award for best musical performance in a period piece goes to Alanis Morisette. Her number takes the audience from production to show night. She nails it and looks convincing.

Go and see Delovely. You'll enjoy the fantasy and excess of the period, and come out wanting a whole new wardrobe. Then go and buy the CD. These songs are considered standards for a reason, and once you begin singing them you'll understand why.