On the Riviera Blu-ray Movie

Rating summary

Movie		3.0
Video		3.5
Audio		4.0
Extras		2.5
Overall		3.5

On the Riviera Blu-ray Movie Review

"You look familiar. . ."

Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman October 9, 2013

If as you watch the Danny Kaye comedy On the Riviera you get that creeping feeling of déjà vu, it could be because you’ve either seen one of two previous versions of the same story, namely 1935’s Folies Bergère or 1941’s That Night in Rio, or in fact at least one other Danny Kaye film which appeared about a decade after On the Riviera, 1961’s On the Double (recently released on Blu-ray by Olive Films). As I mentioned in the review of On the Double, there seemed to be almost a template at the major studios at times, where various comedians could be inserted into prefab plot structures, with hilarity supposedly ensuing. That’s why all four of these films bear resemblances to any number of other outings, like the Bob Hope feature My Favorite Spy, which, like On the Riviera, also debuted in 1951. On the Riviera has its own genuine comedic charm, but the film is perhaps better remembered for some of its ebullient musical numbers, which include a cameo by a very young Gwen Verdon and dashing choreography by Jack Cole. Kaye’s wife Sylvia Fine contributed several songs, offering Kaye a chance to strut his stuff vocally and verbally, something that Fine was always able to craft perfectly to suit the talents of her husband. Very much like in On the Double, Kaye is cast as a talented mimic who is asked to impersonate a famous individual with whom he shares a near identical appearance. And like in the 1961 film, he has to deal with his doppelganger’s wife, though in this iteration, he actually has his own girlfriend, causing some humorous mixups and passing jealousies.

On the Riviera has all the makings of a spectacular farce, with nightclub mimic Jack Martin (Danny Kaye) and his cohort Colette (Corinne Calvet, looking for all the world like Rita Hayworth's long lost sister) romping through a nightclub act which is suddenly interrupted by that newfangled invention, television, where a live broadcast of the return of world famous industrialist and pilot Henri Durand (also Kaye) attracts all the paying customers. Jack and Colette instantly notice the uncanny resemblance between Jack and Durand, and when later that night the club owner Gapeaux (Sig Ruman, rather unexpectedly reserved—for Ruman, anyway) tells Jack that he is “through on Saturday nights” unless he can come up with a compelling new act, Jack gets the wise idea to build a show around impersonating Durand.

Jack and Colette have already noticed that Durand is obviously a ladies’ man (he’s accosted by a string of women during the live television feed, before his wife Lili, played by Gene Tierney, finally shows up). That leads to the first big production number of the film, where Jack sings a Sylvia Fine tune entitled “The Rhythm of a New Romance”, which finds Jack cavorting as Durand through a global array of luscious females (including a wonderful Gwen Verdon). It just so happens that the audience includes the real Durand and Lili, and that’s where one might rightly expect the film to take off into a heady soufflé of mixed up identities and slamming doors. Instead, quite the opposite happens.

Unlike some of the other films where Kaye essays two roles, there’s no real inherent danger involved here when he’s asked in his role of Martin to assume the character of Durand. Even more peculiarly, while both of the women in the film might be initially fooled by his performance, they both figure out what’s going on—at least intermittently. That deprives the film of its central conceit, and instead of a cascading series of misunderstanding, we instead are offered little skirmishes that are soon resolved, only to have the same cycle repeat a bit later.

That leaves the bulk of whatever charm On the Riviera musters—which is notable if not exceptional—in the capable hands of Danny Kaye. While he has his typically manic and silly moments, he’s also surprisingly restrained throughout quite a bit of the film, and some may argue that the musical high point of this offering is not the opulent production numbers but Kaye’s quiet “unplugged” version of “Ballin’ the Jack”.

On the Riviera Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

On the Riviera is presented on Blu-ray courtesy of 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment with an AVC encoded 1080p 1.37:1. Things start out rather swimmingly (pun intended considering the waterside footage) with this transfer, with those deep, lustrous Technicolor blues, and so some might be hoping On the Riviera had somehow escaped the "Fox curse" of discarded Technicolor elements. Alas, that appears not to be the case, for soon the color starts fluctuating rather dramatically, sometimes rather oddly. Flesh tones often assume either an ugly yellow-brown or, even weirder, a kind of ghastly green ambience, and even weirder than that, the discoloration tends to be in splotches here and there, rather than any uniform situation covering the entire frame (take a look at Corinne Calvet's arm and Danny Kaye's hands in screenshot 7, and then compare them to screenshot 8, for just one example of this phenomenon). Aside from this often distracting anomaly, the rest of this presentation looks pretty good, all things considered. The elements are in great shape from a damage perspective, and the high definition presentation affords some nice fine detail, especially with regard to some of the glamorous costumes. Things appear decently crisp and clear throughout this offering, and there are no serious signs of over aggressive digital tweaking.

On the Riviera Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

On the Riviera's lossless DTS-HD Master Audio Mono track exhibits none of an analogous sort of damage to the video presentation, though its boxiness is unmistakable, especially in the luscious choral arrangements of Jeff Alexander. (Alexander is a sadly underappreciated talent from both the tail end of the Golden Age of Hollywood—any beyond—as well as television. He's due for a major reassessment from some enterprising doctoral student or archivist who might want to detail his rather impressive accomplishments over the course of a long if not especially well known career.) Dialogue fares quite a bit better than at least the choral elements here, as frankly does the solo singing. Despite the narrowness of this track, there's no real damage to speak of, and fidelity is fine if taken in its proper historical context.

On the Riviera Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• The Riviera Story: A Remarkable Impersonation (480i; 10:40) takes a look at the background of the film, including its previous incarnations.


• A Portrait of Danny Kaye (480i; 26:37) is a sweet tribute to Kaye, with some great archival footage.


• The Jack of Clubs: Choreographer Jack Cole (480i; 9:50) is a great piece on the underappreciated dance maestro.


• Theatrical Trailer (480i; 2:35)

On the Riviera Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

On the Riviera is a middling piece which simply suffers from a kind of tired, lethargic feeling, something perhaps inescapable given the film's previously done source material. Kaye is his usual ebullient self, and Calvet and Tierney are certainly decorative, even if they're not given a whale of a lot to do. The Fine songs are quite nice as well, and the entire production is incredibly handsome. But there's a distinct lack of laughs here which may be the most peculiar thing about the film. While this is certainly far from Kaye's most charming film (where or where is The Court Jester on Blu-ray?), there's probably enough here—if only just barely—to satisfy the versatile actor's many fans. Even those fans should be aware of this Blu-ray occasionally problematic video presentation, however.