Debbie Reynolds Says ‘I Love Melvin’ But Will Viewers?: Reviewing Warner Archive’s Blu-ray

by Rachel Bellwoar

Warner Archive provided me with a free copy of the Blu-Ray I reviewed in this article. The opinions I share are my own.

It’s not the first time a Hollywood musical has refused to acknowledge its star has grown up (see A Date with Judy, a film in which on the one hand you have Elizabeth Taylor being pushed into adulthood prematurely and, on the other, you have Jane Powell, who was actually a few years older than Taylor, being dressed like a kid). Nonetheless, Don WeisI Love Melvin is still a weird example of this phenomenon because it’s very much a film that’s trying to capitalise on the fact that it’s bringing Singing in the Rain co-stars, Debbie Reynolds and Donald O’Connor, back together again. The film even has O’Connor swing on some lamp posts a few times to make doubly sure viewers are aware of where they saw him last. In Singing in the Rain, though, Reynolds was allowed to dress and act like an adult. I Love Melvin feels like a step backwards for her, as the film initially teases an adult Reynolds with an opening number that allows Reynolds to show off her legs and then immediately retracts that promise by making the number a dream and having her wake up wearing kids pajamas.

The plot isn’t much better. Judy LeRoy (Reynolds) wants to be a star, but her biggest role so far has been as a human football in the fictional musical Quarterback Kelly. She meets Look magazine photographer Melvin (O’Connor) at the park when they literally bump into each other. She’s in the middle of singing about her six-foot-tall dream man. He’s in the middle of singing about his dream woman. Neither is remotely interested in the other, yet somehow, all it takes is seeing Judy get tossed around by some male chorus dancers for Melvin’s feelings to change. Trouble is, Judy already has a boyfriend named Harry (Richard Anderson), who has no qualms being second choice. Add to that a father (Allyn Joslyn) who tells his wife (Una Merkel) he’s never had fun with her and doesn’t even have the decency to say “kidding”, and it’s not the easiest family to like.

For some reason, the film seems determined to push Noreen Corcoran as Judy’s little sister, Clarabelle, having her tag along on most of Melvin and Judy’s dates and giving her an annoying catchphrase: “wowie.” She even has her own song to sing, even though her voice isn’t that remarkable (and she’s a kid – it’s how a kid should sound, but if MGM thought they had the next Shirley Temple or Deanna Durbin on their hands, they were mistaken). To distract from the singing, this is the number where O’Connor has to sell tap dancing on roller skates (and they’re the kind of skates that had to be attached to regular sneakers, so they look precarious).

That’s the thing about the musical numbers in this film as a whole: they feel not safe, and while there’s something hypnotizing about that, and certainly the danger never shows on Reynolds or O’Connor’s smiling faces, it also looks painful. Seeing Reynolds especially have to hold all of these scrunched up positions and then allow herself to be thrown around like a ragdoll is wild, and if the whole idea is to make dancing look effortless, mission not accomplished.

Warner Archive’s Blu-ray comes with two MGM cartoons: “The Impossible Possum”, which features Barney Bear and his attempts to catch a possum, and “TV of Tomorrow” by Tex Avery, which mixes animation with black and white footage. There’s also a dance sequence that was cut from the finale, reprising “A Lady Loves.”

I Love Melvin is on sale now from Warner Archive and to purchase from Movie Zyng.