The Sixties were a weird, tumultuous time in the United States, at least the mid-to-late Sixties. Just before that time when we still had a bit of innocence left, it was a time when it didn’t seem to ruffle any feathers when an American actor played a character of another race. Jerry Lewis got away with his grotesque Japanese caricature for years, and both Mickey Rooney and Marlon Brando played Japanese characters on the big screen (and, yes, there was some outcry from the Asian community, but their voices were rarely heard at the time).

Heck, German-born Luise Rainier even won an Oscar for portraying a Chinese woman in The Good Earth (and she only got the role because Paul Muni had been cast as Wang Lung, and the Hayes Office would have forbidden a Chinese actress to be cast as the wife of an American actor, even if he was playing Chinese – interracial marriage was still illegal in many states, even when it was fictional).

So in 1962, just before America lost its innocence, Shirley MacLaine starred in a movie produced by her then-husband entitled My Geisha. MacLaine plays popular movie star Lucy Dell. Her husband Paul Robaix (Yves Montand) is a director who seems to only have a career because he makes movies that star his wife. He wants to shoot a new version of the classic opera Madame Butterfly, but he refuses to cast Lucy as he wants the film to be as authentic as possible, including shooting on location. The studio balks, without his knowledge, and tells producer Sam Lewis (Edward G. Robinson) that they’ll give him half a million dollars which means shooting in black and white and not hiring professional singers to dub the voices. Lucy knows this will be a blow to her husband’s ego, so she does what any good wife in her position would do – she disguises herself as a geisha when visiting him in Japan and gets herself cast in the starring role. It’s a classic I Love Lucy plotline stretched out over two hours.

The production gets a workable budget when New York gets wind of Lucy’s involvement, but it’s up to Sam to make sure Paul never realizes that his discovery, Yoko Mori, isn’t actually his wife. He gets a little suspicious when Yoko takes direction so well, but he attributes that to her geisha training. Of course, he does eventually discover the ruse when previewing some film that may need to be reshot, and the negative image reveals Yoko to be Lucy. It seems that this betrayal puts their successful marriage at risk, and things come to a head when Paul is forced to introduce “Yoko” to an adoring audience at the film’s premiere.

For a film of it’s time, My Geisha is entertaining. It’s about the battle of the sexes, but it also has the emasculated male who needs to prove to himself and his wife that he can be the bread-winner in the family. Paul is tired of being Mr. Lucy Dell and this new movie is the only way he can break free of that … except no one will let him. In that case, it’s very ahead of its time with the woman being the one in power in the family. Ricky Ricardo never had a production put in jeopardy because Lucy wasn’t cast in the lead. But we do see Paul at work and he appears to be a very competent director, so it’s a bit sad that the studio won’t let him create his art unless his wife, their biggest box office draw, is attached.

Where the movie gets a little problematic is with the character of Bob Moore, the lead actor in Paul’s film and his best friend to boot. Bob (played by Robert Cummings) has had a history with women, going through four marriages but looking for his next conquest (which seems even more odd due to Cummings’ overly fey performance). When Bob meets Yoko, he is smitten (especially when she tells him Japanese women don’t know what alimony is), doing everything in his power to catch her attention. He imposes himself into her dressing room (startled when he realizes Sam is there), he is always looking for a chance to privately run lines with her, and he even jumps at the chance to go to a public bath at the hotel thinking she’ll be there.

And then … after a long shooting day, Sam and Yoko’s geisha mentor Kazumi are playing cards in the lobby of the hotel. Bob drops by and discovers the key to Yoko’s room is on the table. He feigns being exhausted, slips the key into his hand and heads up to her floor. Then he lets himself into her room! Of course, Lucy is not in Yoko drag because she’s asleep, but Bob’s unauthorized entrance wakes her and she huddles under her blanket … while Bob basically throws himself at her, fighting hard to pry the blanket out of her hands. It’s a very, very uncomfortable scene to watch because the whole things is more than a little rapey. Lucy/Yoko convinces Bob that if he dishonors her, she will have to commit hara-kiri so he leaves and she has a good laugh about the whole incident. I don’t know how this played to audiences in 1962, but it genuinely made this viewer’s skin crawl. That still doesn’t put Bob off, though, because the next day he begs Paul to ask Yoko to marry him! Ah, different times.

Other than that and the fact that you really have to suspend disbelief that Paul does not recognize his own wife (even when she’s expertly rambling off her own version of the Japanese language), the film is light entertainment with MacLaine at the height of her pixie-ish cuteness. Montand, in one of his early American films, is really more of a supporting character to MacLaine and Cummings. Robinson, though, manages to make his Hollywood producer human as he has to keep Bob’s pants zipped, and juggle the ego of his director and the ruse of his star, and then has to keep even more secrets as each of them learns the truth.

The film, as presented on DVD, looks gorgeous. The DVD image is sharp (well, except for those vanity close-ups of MacLaine which seem to be shot through a roll of gauze) and extremely colorful. The production design is pretty clever by presenting the Robaix/Dell home as fairly monochromatic and then allows the film to burst into all of its Technicolor glory on the film sets in Japan (including some breath-taking location shots with Mount Fuji in the background). There is one scene to really watch as Bob barges into Paul’s hotel room just as the sun is rising. The room is barely lit save for a faint orange glow coming from the window that only gets brighter as the scene progresses. It really was one of the most impressive moments in the movie.

My Geisha had been out of print on DVD for a while, but it’s now back as part of the Warner Archive Collection for your viewing pleasure. The content is the same as was on the old Paramount DVD with just the movie and various language options, including a remixed 5.1 surround track which puts the voices front and center and gives the film’s score room to breathe in the surrounds. There are no bonus features, not even a trailer. The high quality of the video transfer, though, makes up for any deficiencies. If you’re a MacLaine fan, or are just curious to check out a film with attitudes from a bygone era, My Geisha is certainly worth a look.

My Geisha was provided to CliqueClack for review by the Warner Archive Collection.

Regardless of its billing as a comedy, The Half-Naked Truth is the farthest thing possible from a yuck-fest. But it does have its (ultra) rare moments … few and far between though they may be.

The story revolves around oily, fork-tongued pitchman Jimmy Bates (Lee Tracy) who decides to make tracks out of the carnival where he and his fiery hooch dancer Teresita (Lupe Velez) are employed. After an attempt at sensationalizing his girlfriend’s performance with a tricky “bonus” (the revelation that one of the local townsfolk is actually Teresita’s father), Bates’ jig is up when police casing the carnival stumble on his plan. He high-tails it to avoid arrest and takes Teresita and his friend Achilles (Eugene Pallette) along with him.

To New York City they go to find fame and fortune under the auspices of Broadway under theater big shot Merle Farrell (Frank Morgan, most famously known for his 5 roles in The Wizard Of Oz). Bates finagles his way into one of Farrell’s Broadway shows posing Teresita as escapee “Princess Exotica,” freshly freed from a Turkish harem (complete with attendant Achilles) and a lion. (Talk about your sensationalism.) Impressed, Farrell ends up signing “Princess Exotica” to a contract with his company. Bates’ lies and shenanigans have won everyone over … but the ruse doesn’t last long. Teresita ends up having an affair with the married Farrell and a spurned Bates vows to destroy her career and blackmail the theater owner, neither feat difficult to accomplish.

Bates retaliatory scheme involves a hotel housekeeper and he again “convinces” Farrell to sign her to his company, successfully outing Teresita from her marquee standing while putting yet another one over on Farrell. Teresita and Achilles — who has since purchased the carnival he originally worked at with his “Princess Exotica” ploy monies — return to their huckster show beginnings.

In the end, Bates grows tired of the New York lifestyle. He decides to take Achilles up on a communiqué his friend has sent to him and he returns to the carnival where the three are reunited once again, right where they began.

Released in 1932 at the end of the pre-Hayes Code rating era, you go into the film realizing the 30s had an entirely different concept of comedy than we’re used to today. The laughs were gruff in nature, sometimes physically abusive (and those in The Half-Naked Truth are certainly that) and are filled with references which are often archaic and capable of flying right past one’s understanding.

Bates is as overbearing a personality as you’ll ever meet, to the point you want to see him fail spectacularly in his efforts. (A little research shows that was one of Lee Tracy’s trademarks as a comedian.) But … he’s that good in the role, such that it is. He’s adept at talking his way out of any situation and does so time and again, regardless of his position. He finagles “royalty” into a suite in a ritzy New York hotel (being it’s The Big Apple, you’d think the management of the place would be a little wiser to such tomfoolery) and into the employ of a mighty (yet somewhat scatter-brained) Broadway producer, he tricks the media and the public at every turn … and does it all coming out smelling like a rose. While this might play well to the story, I found it more annoying than anything else. Still, you can’t help simultaneously marveling at his chutzpah while vilifying him.

Teresita? She’s far from the best eye candy out there so I didn’t relate to either her supposed attractiveness nor showmanship. And her spitfire persona? I chalked that up to simpler times. Maybe Lupe Velez fans get her, I do not.

On the plus side, there were a few spiffy verbal shots thrown at various players with deadly aim and precision: “He couldn’t sell a fat boy to a tribe of cannibals” got a chuckle out of me. But it was one snort too few in a film billed as a comedy.

One (unintentional) funny side note to this film is its original tagline: “A million candle-power romance loaded with laughter.” No … it isn’t. Maybe Bates can sell you that bridge while he’s hawking his brand of sensationalism, but I’m not buying it. And, as mentioned, this thing is far from “loaded with laughter.” At the time of release, this piece may have been enjoyable but as a comedy it certainly doesn’t translate well today in any way, shape or form.

The DVD transfer is a bit sub par and somewhat shaky in scenes with blurry, often crowded sets that don’t bode well. Thankfully, the transfer doesn’t make them any more glaring then they already are. The sound, too, shows wear and tear and is muddled in spots … or is it simply the fast-talking players in the film who appear in a rush to be elsewhere? Possibly. Lastly, the disc boasts only the film itself, no bonuses or extras.

Again, if you’re a Velez fan — or you want to see one of many efforts Frank Morgan put on film — take a spin with The Half-Naked Truth. Otherwise you might find yourself yawning. A lot.

The Half-Naked Truth was generously provided to CliqueClack by the Warner Archive Collection for review.

[easyazon-image align=”none” asin=”B00G7QQ4J2″ locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”https://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51OH4X9FFeL._SL160_.jpg” width=”112″][easyazon-image align=”none” asin=”B00CNW9ZI6″ locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”https://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51cadarrVqL._SL160_.jpg” width=”133″]