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Vadis is a triumph of money over matter, a monument to Hollywood's faith in the formula that nothing succeeds like excess. Petronius speaks for Quo Vadis when, discussing the emperor's monstrous arson, he tells Nero: "History need not say that the burning of Rome was good, but it must say that it was colossal." —
For its Hollywood opening of Quo Vadis later this month, M-G-M is planning a celebration almost as colossal as the burning of Rome. So many invitations have already gone out to local bigwigs, from Governor Earl Warren on down, that only the most dazzling movie names can hope to make their way along Wilshire Boulevard, lined with a Praetorian Guard of dress extras, to the Four Star Theater. To keep lesser mortals constantly reminded of the occasion, M-G-M hirelings have already arranged publicity tie-ups with everything from soap to fire insurance. Piece de resistance: the Quo Vadis hairdo, a tight-fitting cap of curls specially designed by a Manhattan coiffeur.
Across the Wide Missouri (MGM) boasts all the expansive paraphernalia of a painstaking Hollywood epic: vast stretches of the rugged Colorado outdoors, superbly photographed in Technicolor; a conscientious effort to show how trappers actually looked and lived in the Western wilderness of 1830; a big cast headed by Clark Gable in one of his manliest roles. Unfortunately, all the color and muscle is not enough to hide the script's severe case of dramatic anemia.
As winnowed out of a Pulitzer-prize history by Bernard DeVoto, the story tamely recalls 1950'S Broken Arrow, without its surprise or suspense. Trapper Gable marries a proud Indian maiden (Maria Elena Marques) so he can use her to ease his way into the beaver-rich bailiwick of her grandfather, a Blackfoot chief (played by well-disguised Oldtimer Jack Holt). On the trail, he learns to love and respect her. Their marriage wins the blessing of the Blackfoot ruler and gives them a son. But when one of Gable's men kills the old chief to satisfy a personal grudge, a hostile brave (Ricardo Montalban) takes command of the Indians to war on the whites. A Blackfoot arrow, guided by the Production Code's antimiscegenation line, cuts down Gable's bride.
Too often, the film sacrifices action to authenticity; all the Indians' speeches must be translated into English, usually by a bibulous French scout (well played by Adolphe Menjou*), so that some scenes move almost as leisurely as a discussion at the U.N. But the picture fills the eye with the grandeur of its well-chosen locations and the flashing charm of Mexico's Actress Marques, who looks something like a brunette Faye Emerson. And it gains vigor now & then from the hairy-chested direction of William (The Oxbow Incident) Wellman, notably in the roisterous humor of a drunken free-for-all, shots of horses charging and churning through mountain snowdrifts, and the unsqueamish thunk of arrows hitting human hide.
Two Tickets to Broadway (RKO Radio) is a backstage musical that makes its only nod to the times by placing its song, dance and story routines in & around a television studio. Though the commercials are missing and Technicolor is floridly present, the film so well reflects the quality of current TV entertainment that moviegoers may feel their fingers itching for a dial.