Reviews

I just watched "The Waltz" (aka "Beulah the Dance Teacher") and, in this episode at least, Beulah comes across a lot like Hazel -- the wise maid who helps the kids when the parents are completely clueless. It's not exactly a plea for tolerance, but it's not a racist minstrel show, either.

The previous reviewer got several things wrong. First, Donnie doesn't want to learn to dance to be popular with girls; he's taking a dance class (at his parents' insistence), doing badly, and doesn't want to embarrass himself at the final party ("It's gonna be brutal," he says. "I'm gonna have to dance in front of mom and dad and everyone.") Beulah and Bill tell him that dancing can be fun, and offer to show him their stuff, so Donnie puts on the waltz record he borrowed from his teacher. "I got a hunch this Madame Matilda's a square," Beulah says. " Come on, let's get something a little more groovy, a little more solid." Thus they jive.

Second, when Beulah says, "It don't seem possible, but I put my big foot in it again," it's not because of Donnie's dancing. In fact, Donnie was such a bad dancer that none of the girls in his class wanted to be his date, so Madame Matilda assigned one of the girls to go with him. But, when she had to cancel, Beulah arranged a blind date with a new girl in the neighborhood -- who turned out to be several years older and about two feet taller than Donnie.

Third, he claims that Donnie's parents were scandalized because their kid was dancing the boogie woogie. Sorry, no. At the party, Donnie is dancing the waltz with his date -- badly, tripping and falling. Beulah and Bill, serving refreshments, take pity on him and Bill puts the boogie record on the Victrola. Donnie and his teenage date get the rhythm. It's Donnie's prudish dance teacher who's scandalized. "I have never seen such a barbaric exhibition is all my life," she says. When she yells at Donnie ("You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"), the Hendersons storm out, Donnie in tow. Oh, that boogie woogie. Oh, that rock and roll. Oh, that rap music. Kids today!

Now, when a reviewer gets his facts so wrong, it makes me wonder. Has he actually seen the episode? Was he just careless? Or does he have ax to grind?

Yes, there are stereotypes here -- the father is stiff and pompous, the mother ineffectual, the dance teacher a dowager, and Oriole is dumb as a bag of rocks and has a laugh like a mouse being pulled through a keyhole. But Beulah, Bill and Donnie are as real as '50s sitcom characters got. I could hang with them.

It's always easy to look askance at earlier eras from today's oh-so-much-more-enlightened perspective. If there's overt racism in this episode, I don't see it. If you're interested, find a tape, watch it, and decide for yourself.

The movie was broadcast, and appears on the commercial VHS release, in two parts. The first has some creepy moments (although they have little to do with the show's '60s incarnation), but the second quickly deteriorates into a simple-minded impending-disaster-on-a-train scenario that just left me cold and probably belonged in another movie. Made more "relevant" for the mid-90s -- by introducing the idea that the aliens were trying to get us to degrade our planet and thus make it habitable for them -- the ecological subtext seems a little knee-jerk ten years later. The acting was competent, although I doubt that Bakula's confused, rather passive protagonist could have sustained an entire series. Not even an interesting failure.

If you can get past the fact that this is not another version of the much-loved noir classic and take it on its own terms, this film actually has a lot going for it. If you want emotional depth, look elsewhere. Here, murder, betrayal, infidelity and the mindless destruction of gorgeous deco furniture are routinely shrugged off as minor inconveniences.

The film is briskly paced and full of snappy dialog. The characters are broadly drawn and fun to watch. The acting is -- well, not full of subtle nuance but certainly appropriate to the piece. The script is by Brown Holmes, who is also credited with the original 1931 version (which I have not seen but would love to; Dwight Frye as Wilmer -- wow!).

William Warren carries the film as the confident, always one-jump-ahead Ted Shayne (and looks appropriately satanic). Bette Davis gives as good as she gets, even managing to thwart Shayne of the reward for her capture. Marie Wilson is a treasure as the ditsy Miss (Effie?) Murgatroyd, who apparently has trouble spelling her own last name but still has a lot on the ball. Alison Skipworth is fun as a female Gutman, Arthur Treacher has Peter Lorre's rather superfluous role (without the innuendos), and Maynard Holmes is the creepy gunsel who can't seem to hold onto his gun. The cops are, of course, suitably dense.

If you enjoy colorful characters exchanging breezy chatter and cracking wise, you could do worse. Give it a chance the next time it's on TCM. If you don't like it, you can always change the channel.

(PS: The plot summary as given by the IMDb is incorrect. Shayne doesn't meet Valerie on a train, she doesn't hire him to find Barabbas, Barabbas doesn't ask him to find Valerie, and the ram's horn is not covered with precious jewels. Other than that, it's spot on.)