Here is an example of production values so vastly above the content of the script or the acting that it simply boggles the mind. Even the lush score is full of howlers, like using Ferde Grofe's sunset movement from the "Grand Canyon Suite" as background for love scenes. And anyone who remembers Huntz Hall from his slapstick days can't possibly believe him as a serious movie mogul. The casting of Nureyev as Valentino is ludicrous. The only things they had in common other than being able to dance splendidly were the same first name and having died young after a life of excess.
But it is the truly awful script that really does this one in. One clinker after another, delivered in Russian-accented English often accompanied by exaggerated Italian-sounding intonations. Grotesque. Believability at zero.
Indeed, one viewer hit this one on the shining nose when he suggested it might best be viewed with the sound off. Sort of art imitating art. What a shame the truly beautiful visuals of this film were so mistreated by the words.
But it is the truly awful script that really does this one in. One clinker after another, delivered in Russian-accented English often accompanied by exaggerated Italian-sounding intonations. Grotesque. Believability at zero.
Indeed, one viewer hit this one on the shining nose when he suggested it might best be viewed with the sound off. Sort of art imitating art. What a shame the truly beautiful visuals of this film were so mistreated by the words.