The first time I watched Delovely, I found it annoying. Since then, it's become a movie that I watch regularly, one of my favorites. Why? Well, Kevin Kline's performance strikes me as a labor of love. That helps a lot. Ashley Judd's performance as Linda Porter is more one- dimensional, but she delivers perfect support. But what really draws me to Delovely again and again is the music. I've not been a big Cole Porter fan. I tend to find his rhymes trite, his 'sophistication' doesn't come off for me, and his melodies are too Broadway. But Delovely sold me on song after song. The film contextualizes the songs beautifully, so that their meanings become a little more apparent, and then the singers really deliver! I've noticed that the music in Delovely doesn't seem to review well. I think that must be because reviewers expected more historical authenticity. Instead what they got was contemporary pop stars freely re-interpreting Porter's songs, sometimes against expectation, with resounding success. Elvis Costello turns "Let's Misbehave" into an anthem. Alanis Morisette gives "Let's Do It" bite and energy. Sheryl Crow turns "Begin the Beguine" into a dirge.
Long before I saw Delovely, I had a chance to hear Cole Porter on record singing a song or two. I'll never forget my reaction - "so that's how those songs are MEANT to be heard!" I think this was on a tribute album, and it really started my re-appraisal of Porter's music, which I suspect has typically been miss-interpreted. Porter's songs have a lot of emotional darkness in them, that has often been lost in translation. You hear it when Porter sings them, and you hear it in Delovely. It's that dark undertone that makes the rhymes work, makes the humor funny, makes the sparkle sparkle and makes the songs kick. Whoever was the creative force behind Delovely seems to have understood that they weren't just creating the average biopic, that they were reinterpreting a misunderstood artist.
And they made the right choice when they asked Kevin Kline to set the tone for the film by singing and playing in a way that caught the dark undertone in Porter's singing and playing. I've never seen Kline rise to the occasion like this. He's always good, of course, but in Delovely, he seems to channel Cole Porter, so that one doesn't consider for a moment whether he looks like Cole Porter, acts like Cole Porter, sounds like Cole Porter, or whether the incidents portrayed are historically accurate. He does something far better. He is Cole Porter. For a night. In a play about Cole Porter.
No Oscar for Kline, of course. The truly great performances never get Oscars. No doubt they'll give him a make-up Oscar for some dreary performance in the future. It's what they usually do.
I don't know if I'll ever consider Delovely a great movie. I just don't quite accept the artifice in which Porter discusses his life with Gabe in some kind of All That Jazz derived purgatory. I recognize why they did this, and I think it works fairly well, but I can't quite get over the fact that it introduces an extraneous character who never really becomes integral to the story - even if that is sort of the point.
Doesn't matter so much though. Above all, I love the music, and most especially, I love Sheryl Crowe's version of Begin the Beguine. Of all the numbers, this is the one that dazzles. Crowe seizes the song and throttles it, combining a wildly over the top Torch Song delivery with a stunningly glitzy and sleazy physical performance, in a dress that is just a little more see-thru than you really want it to be. Sounds terrible, but it works. There could not be a better tribute to Cole Porter's mad alchemy. For me, Crowe's version of Begin the Beguine, however out of step with tradition, is definitive.
Long before I saw Delovely, I had a chance to hear Cole Porter on record singing a song or two. I'll never forget my reaction - "so that's how those songs are MEANT to be heard!" I think this was on a tribute album, and it really started my re-appraisal of Porter's music, which I suspect has typically been miss-interpreted. Porter's songs have a lot of emotional darkness in them, that has often been lost in translation. You hear it when Porter sings them, and you hear it in Delovely. It's that dark undertone that makes the rhymes work, makes the humor funny, makes the sparkle sparkle and makes the songs kick. Whoever was the creative force behind Delovely seems to have understood that they weren't just creating the average biopic, that they were reinterpreting a misunderstood artist.
And they made the right choice when they asked Kevin Kline to set the tone for the film by singing and playing in a way that caught the dark undertone in Porter's singing and playing. I've never seen Kline rise to the occasion like this. He's always good, of course, but in Delovely, he seems to channel Cole Porter, so that one doesn't consider for a moment whether he looks like Cole Porter, acts like Cole Porter, sounds like Cole Porter, or whether the incidents portrayed are historically accurate. He does something far better. He is Cole Porter. For a night. In a play about Cole Porter.
No Oscar for Kline, of course. The truly great performances never get Oscars. No doubt they'll give him a make-up Oscar for some dreary performance in the future. It's what they usually do.
I don't know if I'll ever consider Delovely a great movie. I just don't quite accept the artifice in which Porter discusses his life with Gabe in some kind of All That Jazz derived purgatory. I recognize why they did this, and I think it works fairly well, but I can't quite get over the fact that it introduces an extraneous character who never really becomes integral to the story - even if that is sort of the point.
Doesn't matter so much though. Above all, I love the music, and most especially, I love Sheryl Crowe's version of Begin the Beguine. Of all the numbers, this is the one that dazzles. Crowe seizes the song and throttles it, combining a wildly over the top Torch Song delivery with a stunningly glitzy and sleazy physical performance, in a dress that is just a little more see-thru than you really want it to be. Sounds terrible, but it works. There could not be a better tribute to Cole Porter's mad alchemy. For me, Crowe's version of Begin the Beguine, however out of step with tradition, is definitive.