Downhill after they get to NY
Until their ship docks in New York, this is a good, if overly sentimental, movie, with great chemistry between the stars.
But from their arrival onwards, things go downhill -- and completely unnecessarily.
Mostly this is a matter of those interminable songs Leo McCarey dragged into the film. Bad enough are the two ballads sung by Deborah Kerr's voice-over, Marni Nixon. These are supposed to be night club-style songs? Not by a long shot. Besides which, they're bland, unimaginative and boring. And we have to be subjected to two. One was not enough.
But the vacuousness of these dull songs is positively welcome compared to that pair of dreadful, God-awful, loud, screeching, and absolutely interminable numbers "performed" by those off-key and obnoxious kids. Neither cute nor -- what is the word -- oh, yes -- good, the songs themselves are as annoying as they are ineptly written, stupid and -- worst of all -- endless. Nothing destroys the mood of this story than these wholly inappropriate and out-of-place examples of bad songwriting. Terrible music, and asinine lyrics, even for kids' songs.
Tack on McCarey's inevitable cuddly old priest, dragged in by the heels in this movie, and some dumb and leadenly unappealing characters strewn about the wreckage, and this film is undermined almost beyond being salvageable by McCarey's misplaced and badly executed ideas. It's true that in the original film, 1939's Love Affair, Terry McKay was a singer and later taught singing at a girl's school. There too this was a poor decision, but at least the music and songs were not bland serenades or jarring pieces of juvenile crap. The 1957 version comes close to being ruined by these unbearable interludes, and just barely manages to pull it back at the end.
A lot of people have fond memories of this picture, but in most cases I've found they've forgotten about these lousy musical intrusions and just how bad not only the songs but their performers are. When they see it again and have to squirm through these scenes over and over and over and over, they remember how awful they are and how much they undercut the film's tone. It disintegrates from light comedy mixed with romantic drama to in-you-face, elbows-out, heavy-handed "humor", clichéd characters and, of course, those wretched musical numbers. (Their awfulness made all the more notable by the presence of a good piece of music, the marvelous title song...though when Deborah/Marni sings it, it comes out as vapid as dishwater.)
The big question is how anybody, even in 1957, could have been so stupid to believe that all this garbage enhanced the movie. Even then it was too much for audiences, as most critical reviews of the film took pains -- and I do mean pains -- to note.
Ugh. If only someone had strangled that "tiny scout" at birth. I for one would have a clear conscience.