Every so often, someone gets an idea in their head: We should remake this classic film! It makes sense. A lot of modern viewers simply… don’t watch older films, so a remake can expose them to great ideas in a modern context. And, of course, you already have some idea of the story, of what works and what doesn’t, to go off of. But the tendency some folks have is to remake great films; what if, instead, we remade flawed-but-fascinating oddities? It worked for The Thing and The Fly. It could, I think, work for The Love Parade.
That’s right, fuckers, we’re going back to 1929.
What is The Love Parade?
The Love Parade is sometimes referred to as ‘the first movie musical’. I’d be surprised if that was true. But, coming out in 1929, it is undeniably one of the earliest movie musicals ever made. Perhaps it is also the first really good one.
The Love Parade follows Count Alfred Renard (Maurice Chevalier), a military attache for the fictional country of Sylvania in Paris. Alfred has, you might say, gone native. He has adopted a French accent. He has also adopted a French predilection for adultery. Having slept his way across Paris, leaving a long list of accumulated scandals in his wake, Alfred has been ordered home to Sylvania to answer to his charges.
There he meets Queen Louise (Jeanette MacDonald), a young, unmarried monarch of the small nation. Her ministers are desperate for her to wed, but worry that the job of Prince Consort — essentially, look pretty and do as little as possible — is unappealing. But when Louise and Alfred meet, sparks fly immediately. After a whirlwind courtship, the two wed, and Alfred assumes the job of Prince Consort. And you know what? It turns out that job does suck.
Why should The Love Parade be remade?
So, The Love Parade is a good movie. The first half is a combination of bubbly charm, profound weirdness, and unexpected raunch. We don’t have enough heartfelt raunch in modern movies; people have resorted to getting horny for press photos. Imagine how much people might lose their mind at Oscar Isaac singing “Anything to Please the Queen.” The internet might implode.
“Anything to Please the Queen” is a great encapsulation of both why the movie holds up so well nearly a century later, and why we could comfortably remake it. The song is playful, laced with innuendo and wrought with a playful passion. At the same time, however, Maurice Chevalier is not by any stretch a singer. Well, okay, he’s singing, so I guess technically he’s a singer. He’s just a really bad one. Beyond that, director Ernst Lubitsch favors here a static camera that lets the words sing but gives the performers little room to move. Later scenes featuring the immensely talented Lupino Lane and Lillian Roth are more unabashedly physical and playful, but they almost feel like they’re from different film entirely. There’s definitely room to improve.
And, of course, there’s the back half of the film. Once Louise and Alfred are married, the film turns oddly sour. The film introduces a brownface ‘Afghani ambassador’ out of nowhere. Like, they really linger on the motherfucker. And the gender norms curdle completely. Alfred is all wounded, pouting masculinity, frustrated at playing second fiddle to the Queen. There’s a way to play this sort of ‘Battle of the Sexes’ comedy, but Lubitsch and Chevalier miscalculate profoundly, and Alfred comes off cruel and petulant instead of charming. A modern take could really mine this material in a way Lubitsch would even just a few years later, when he was a more confident filmmaker. Unfortunately, this was his first talkie, and the ways he would later play with gender roles in Trouble in Paradise or Design for Living simply aren’t yet present.
Could The Love Parade survive today?
Honestly, this is the toughest question. The musical was already in pretty dire straits. The one-two punch of Cats and Dear Evan Hansen have certainly damaged the reputation of the movie musical. And while I’m a La La Land defender, that film certainly makes it clear that most modern (white) actors simply don’t have the kind of singing and dancing talents and training that a lot of older performers did. I have no idea who could fill the Roth/Lane roles.
And yet, the film would be cheap to make. The Love Parade has just three or four sets, and a miniscule cast. It would be easy enough to adapt on a budget. And its sometimes absurdist sense of humor — in one musical number, it gives a verse to a dog a verse, barking mournfully about all the dogs it slept with in Paris — would fit in better with modern comical sensibilities than I expected.
The Love Parade is a good movie. I enjoyed my time with it. But it’s definitely the sort of classic that could use an update. Between the brownface and the toxic petulance of Chevalier in the film’s back half, The Love Parade is (justifiably!) going to turn off a lot of modern viewers. It’s worth checking out, if you can stomach its flaws, but the space it opens for playful analysis of class and gender make it ripe for reinterpretation.
Where can I watch The Love Parade?
I’m glad you asked! The Love Parade is streaming on the Criterion Channel, which for my money is the best streaming service out there. Unfortunately, the film is not readily available outside the Criterion Channel. But look, you clicked on an article about a movie from 1929. You should subscribe to the Criterion Channel.