With the word "song" appearing in the title, this must be another Hollywood biopic about a famous composer: in fact, we get no fewer than 3 here (Robert Schumann, Johannes Brahms and, once again, Franz Liszt), as well as an accomplished female pianist (Clara Wieck, later Schumann)! Being an MGM production and starring Katharine Hepburn to boot, I was prepared for the worst – but I have to admit that I was pleasantly surprised by the result; mind you, I love Hepburn's classic comedies with Cary Grant and Spencer Tracy – yet, given her predilection for theatricality, I tend to approach her dramatic work with less enthusiasm!
The acting is fine all around, but I feel that the honors in this case should go to the consistently underrated Paul Henreid: he tackles the most difficult role as Schumann – whose lack of personal success, and being essentially forced to live in the shadow of his wife and depending financially on her own career, gives him severe bouts of melancholia (brought about by the persistent hearing of one particular dissonant note) which even lead to an attempted suicide and ultimately land the composer in a mental institution (though history tells us this isolation was self-imposed)! At this time, Hollywood was not yet rooted in the concept of rewarding actors playing these type of challenging parts (especially when they are based on real figures), so Henreid's performance – indeed, the whole film – was ignored by Academy voters: another category where it ought to have been a sure-fire consideration was the black-and-white cinematography (back then, color films were separately judged) in view of the exquisite lighting, courtesy of Harry Stradling, throughout.
Anyway, back to the matter at hand: the picture opens on a concert given by Clara where she is constantly being corrected by her stern father (Leo G. Carroll) sitting right behind her! She rebels, however, when – instead of the usual encore – she opts to play a piece by a new composer, Schumann, with Caroll forced to swallow his pride since it particularly pleases the royalty in attendance! After the performance, though, he and Henreid (whom the older man had taken in as a student) exchange harsh words (since the latter apparently intends marrying his mentor's daughter) and, when Schumann leaves, Clara goes with him! Cut to 10 years and 7(!) children later, Brahms (Robert Walker) arrives on the scene – pretty much a younger version of Schumann himself, and who is platonically doted on by both husband and wife. That said, it turns out that he harbors feelings for Clara, and which emerge the more Schumann retreats into himself on account of his condition (reaching its zenith during his conducting of the self-penned opera "Faust" in concert form). For the record, Liszt (Henry Daniell) had been instrumental in securing its production, in an effort to help the Schumanns' impecunious situation (the husband had already been humiliated by seeing Hepburn forced to resume performing after several years but, while the result proves a resounding success so that her agent hopes for a run of such concerts, she is adamant that it be for a one-time engagement only, just so the family can rise above water financially!).
Still, unable to hold himself back any longer, Brahms decides to leave the Schumanns' residence. Following Robert's death, his own career flourishes but, learning of Clara's secluded life, he visits her and, naturally, hopes to fill in the blank of both husband and father (he had been especially close with one of their girls, which the young man had even seen through a case of measles), yet the now-ageing lady tells him that she is still Mrs. Schumann, at which he gracefully retreats but not before telling her that, if her love for her husband is still so passionate, she should do her utmost to bring his music to the world! The film, then, ends with Clara (towards the end of her own life) sitting down at the piano before vast audiences once again and opting to play the very composition that had received the approval of the present King (who was no more than a boy back when we first heard it!) against her father's better judgment.
SONG OF LOVE has all the ingredients for a sophisticated entertainment – comedy (especially involving the antics of the Schumanns' cantankerous old nanny), drama, romance, child interest and, of course, classical music (that said, even if this is copious throughout and involves all four musically-inclined protagonists, it is hardly memorable in comparison to the recently-viewed A SONG TO REMEMBER {1945}, about Frederic Chopin, and SONG WITHOUT END: THE STORY OF FRANZ LISZT {1960}) – and it is all tastefully handled by veteran Brown, enough to make it palatable for most of its somewhat overgenerous 118 minutes. Although the movie has now been officially released on DVD-R via the "Warner Archives" collection, the copy I acquired is plagued by intermittent wobbliness in the picture (despite being sourced from a TCM transmission).
The acting is fine all around, but I feel that the honors in this case should go to the consistently underrated Paul Henreid: he tackles the most difficult role as Schumann – whose lack of personal success, and being essentially forced to live in the shadow of his wife and depending financially on her own career, gives him severe bouts of melancholia (brought about by the persistent hearing of one particular dissonant note) which even lead to an attempted suicide and ultimately land the composer in a mental institution (though history tells us this isolation was self-imposed)! At this time, Hollywood was not yet rooted in the concept of rewarding actors playing these type of challenging parts (especially when they are based on real figures), so Henreid's performance – indeed, the whole film – was ignored by Academy voters: another category where it ought to have been a sure-fire consideration was the black-and-white cinematography (back then, color films were separately judged) in view of the exquisite lighting, courtesy of Harry Stradling, throughout.
Anyway, back to the matter at hand: the picture opens on a concert given by Clara where she is constantly being corrected by her stern father (Leo G. Carroll) sitting right behind her! She rebels, however, when – instead of the usual encore – she opts to play a piece by a new composer, Schumann, with Caroll forced to swallow his pride since it particularly pleases the royalty in attendance! After the performance, though, he and Henreid (whom the older man had taken in as a student) exchange harsh words (since the latter apparently intends marrying his mentor's daughter) and, when Schumann leaves, Clara goes with him! Cut to 10 years and 7(!) children later, Brahms (Robert Walker) arrives on the scene – pretty much a younger version of Schumann himself, and who is platonically doted on by both husband and wife. That said, it turns out that he harbors feelings for Clara, and which emerge the more Schumann retreats into himself on account of his condition (reaching its zenith during his conducting of the self-penned opera "Faust" in concert form). For the record, Liszt (Henry Daniell) had been instrumental in securing its production, in an effort to help the Schumanns' impecunious situation (the husband had already been humiliated by seeing Hepburn forced to resume performing after several years but, while the result proves a resounding success so that her agent hopes for a run of such concerts, she is adamant that it be for a one-time engagement only, just so the family can rise above water financially!).
Still, unable to hold himself back any longer, Brahms decides to leave the Schumanns' residence. Following Robert's death, his own career flourishes but, learning of Clara's secluded life, he visits her and, naturally, hopes to fill in the blank of both husband and father (he had been especially close with one of their girls, which the young man had even seen through a case of measles), yet the now-ageing lady tells him that she is still Mrs. Schumann, at which he gracefully retreats but not before telling her that, if her love for her husband is still so passionate, she should do her utmost to bring his music to the world! The film, then, ends with Clara (towards the end of her own life) sitting down at the piano before vast audiences once again and opting to play the very composition that had received the approval of the present King (who was no more than a boy back when we first heard it!) against her father's better judgment.
SONG OF LOVE has all the ingredients for a sophisticated entertainment – comedy (especially involving the antics of the Schumanns' cantankerous old nanny), drama, romance, child interest and, of course, classical music (that said, even if this is copious throughout and involves all four musically-inclined protagonists, it is hardly memorable in comparison to the recently-viewed A SONG TO REMEMBER {1945}, about Frederic Chopin, and SONG WITHOUT END: THE STORY OF FRANZ LISZT {1960}) – and it is all tastefully handled by veteran Brown, enough to make it palatable for most of its somewhat overgenerous 118 minutes. Although the movie has now been officially released on DVD-R via the "Warner Archives" collection, the copy I acquired is plagued by intermittent wobbliness in the picture (despite being sourced from a TCM transmission).