FANTASIA OBSCURA: Meet (Then Forget) One of the Original Live-Action Fairy Tales
There are some fantasy, science fiction, and horror films that not every fan has caught. Not every film ever made has been seen by the audience that lives for such fare. Some of these deserve another look, because sometimes not every film should remain obscure.
Sometimes, though, you can tell the film you’re watching is going to be a clunker just by looking at it from a long, long way away…
The Slipper and the Rose (1976)
(Dist.: Universal Pictures; Dir.: Bryan Forbes)
So, we’re in the midst of a major, live-action fairy tale moment, one that’s going to grow into an entire subgenre so long as the audience shows up.
One that’s likely to have learned the lessons of long ago, when they didn’t know how to make such films, once upon a time…
But, you ask, can anyone really find a way to take the Cinderella story, particularly the version compiled by Charles Perrault, and put it through so many layers that it diffuses into a rather big mess?
Apparently, David Frost did.
You should already be familiar with the basic story: the prince, Edward (Richard Chamberlain), is in need of a mate. In the kingdom resides Cinderella (Gemma Craven in her first feature), suffering under her evil stepmother (Margaret Lockwood in her last screen appearance) and her stepsisters (Sherrie Hewson and Rosalind Ayres). She’s fated to meet and win her prince, thanks to her fairy godmother (Annette Crosbie), with no help from the clock but an assist from the footwear, yadda, yadda, yadda, fin.
So how do you fill a run time of two hours and 15 minutes with a story like that? Lots and lots of padding.
For one, there’s the addition of a political alliance/dynastic succession subplot. Edward’s refusal to find a bride is a grave concern to his parents, the King and Queen of Euphrania (Michael Hordern and Lally Bowers) for reasons beyond simply wanting grandkids. The kingdom needs allies and stability if it’s going to survive.
There’s also concerns regarding class strictures and how it can keep you from loving whom you want, which Edward’s bodyguard John (Christopher Gable) faces in his love for a woman above his station, Lady Caroline (Polly Williams in her last screen appearance).
Both of which get musical numbers by Robert and Richard Sherman that stress the point, including the set piece “Position and Positioning,” which is a major show stopper killer:
It needs be said that by this time in their careers, the brothers Sherman had already been continuously working on musicals for Disney and other producers for close to 20 years and, to the casual listener, the strain of exhaustion was starting to show.
This film followed their having done both the score and songs as well as the script for Reader’s Digest adaptations of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. Their work on this film doesn’t even rise up to the level of these prior productions.
We also get a subplot about how overworked fairy godmothers are (thankfully without a major set piece), where there seems to be only one magic-using entity in all of Eurasia doing everything for everyone. While this may explain why the magic we see never seems to display more dazzle than that in an average episode of Nanny and the Professor, having your major sources of magic bitch all through the film about being overworked doesn’t get the audience on your side. We’re almost hoping by the end that someone else in the cast gets hired as a PA for her to get this FG to focus!
Speaking of focus, Forbes’ choice as director of shooting everything so deep in the field certainly didn’t help the film. Having the scenery overwhelm your cast makes it hard to feel any connection with the characters. The lack of intimacy with the participants in what should be a pretty personal tale makes the film as cold as the broad Austrian hills and halls where the film was shot.
In spite of what was placed on them, the cast soldiers on with a strong professional British resolve to get the job done splendidly. Despite camera setups that make the characters feel like diorama pieces observed from the other side of the room, coupled with a script and numbers no one was likely to ever miss in their lives, every performer does the best they can while bedecked in 18th Century wigs and costumes. Had this kingdom faced Danton and the mobs to answer for their acting against our interests, we could easily sympathize enough with them and blame the producer for their crimes when the tribunals started.
As for monarchical mistakes, this ended up being the sole theatrical production that Frost’s company, Paradine Productions, made for the screen. Frost, whose interest with the story of Cinderella had gone back at least as far as a 1972 EMI vinyl release where he narrated the story, found himself with an opportunity to work with the Sherman brothers on what would end up being the Royal Command Performance for 1976, one that the Queen Mum was a big fan of.
She, however, was in the minority; it took Universal seven months to bring the film to the US, with two numbers cut from the production. The film, when it came here, got savaged by critics such as Vincent Canby at the New York Times and ran through its distribution channels like a girl trying to catch a pumpkin at 11:59 PM.
Like the long shots that overstuff the movie, the film was soon way back over everybody’s shoulder and receding in the distance. Paradine would stick with television productions thereafter, mainly repackaging Frost’s interviews, its only interest in musicals shown in authorizing a live stage adaptation of the film in 1984.
It’s likely that the most recent encounter anyone has had with this film is in an oblique throwaway line in 2008’s Frost/Nixon, where passing reference is made to Frost going to the film’s premiere before his first encounter with former President Nixon. Much like the characters in the musical, it’s hard to spot, being lost with so wide a focus amidst so big a set.
NEXT TIME: Just when you think you’ve taken care of the problem, back it comes again…
