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MO VI REVIEWS
by Jonathan kilbourn
picture of the month
Ray Bolger and Doris Day sing and dance their way into each other's hearts on the way to Paris.
APRIL IN PARIS
■ A gay and original story idea, just the right light touch in the direction and the lightning feet and lanky frame of Ray Bolger make a fine prescription for a movie musical. Add a dash of Gallic whimsey in the person of Claude Dauphin and a part tailored to the talents of Doris Day, and you have just what the play-doctor ordered: an offbeat song-and-dance show that seldom takes itself seriously. How could it, with Bolger playing an assistant secretary to the secretary to the Undersecretary of State? The story gets off to a hilarious start when Bolger lovingly plans an international festival of the arts in Paris, a project he feels sure will spread the fame of the U. S.— and the name of Bolger— throughout the world. But he makes one frightful error. Misaddressing a letter intended to invite Ethel Barrymore to be an American representative at the fete, he sends it instead to one Ethel (Dynamite) Jackson, a Broadway chorus cutie played by Miss Day, who accepts. There is a lot of explaining to do. Dynamite naturally explodes and Bolger's problems multiply. Unexpectedly the selection of a chorus girl to represent the U. S. in Paris is hailed by press and public alike as a stroke of sheer genius. But now Dynamite is adamant in her refusal to go, and all Bolger's powers of persuasion are called upon in his efforts to make her board the ship. She falls for his sales talk, and he falls for her. The rest of the action takes place mostly on shipboard and features some comical contrasts between the entertainer's honesty and the State Department staff's stuffiness. In addition, there is a spur-of-the-moment, midnight marriage for Doris and Ray, but unbeknownst to them it is, not binding (a thieving busboy, stealing liguor from the captain's cabin, assumes the letter's identity and pretends to perform the ceremony). From here on in, ApriJ in Paris substitutes farce for satire and loses some of its champagne sparkle, though by no means all of its punch. The sophisticated effect grows thin at the finish, but to the end the film is good fun and the singing and dancing top-notch.— Warners
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