DVD Reviews

The Black Orchid

Made at the end of a long, downward slide in Paramount’s fortunes, The Black Orchid (1958) isn’t a terribly inspired piece of art, but it’s hard not to enjoy it. It’s a well-made romantic melodrama and a fantastic showcase for its two leads, Sophia Loren and Anthony Quinn. Loren in 1958 was very nearly at the height of her stunning beauty, but the film underplays her sexiness and focuses on her acting for a change. I can picture old man Zukor watching the rushes, yelling, "What, she can’t shake her ass just once?"

Rose Bianco (Loren) starts not as a rose but as "a black orchid," a widow whose husband was killed by mobsters and whose son Ralph (Jimmy Baird) lives on a juvenile farm. Rose spends her days and nights in an icy routine of mourning. Until, that is, widower Frank Valente (Quinn) appears on the scene. He has a grown daughter, Mary (Ina Balin) who is engaged to Noble (Mark Richman). Loud but endearing, Frank pushes and pushes until he gets Rose to like him, then love him. They plan a wedding, start to buy a house in the country, and arrange for Ralph to live with them. Cue the complications: Mary won’t stand her father marrying a woman rumoured (later confirmed) to have pushed her first husband into a life of crime. Mary locks herself away from her father and her fiancé, Rose is overcome with guilt, her son runs away, and all plans fall to ruin. Can they be saved? Can they??

If you don’t know, the music will tip you off. There is a theme for every moment, all vaguely Italian to match the New York neighbourhood setting. The score is not as vibrant as Dolby sound would suggest, and when the volume increases, the music becomes a bit tinny. The dialogue for the most part sounds crisp. The picture is remarkably well-preserved with only a bit of flicker. The faces of the stars will benefit from a large-screen viewing.

This may be Sophia Loren’s first great film role. She wears a prim black dress throughout, adding brighter touches as her character slowly blooms. Her performance is reserved and unmannered even in the scenes that call for diva-brand ham. She conveys just the right note of happiness tempered with fear. As for Anthony Quinn, he is his lively self, an optimistic, big-hearted joe we want to succeed. Charismatic but not dashing, he elevates his character by, well, grounding it. No Zorba zaniness here; Frank comes off as exactly the type who could make Rose start to forgive herself.

The English subtitles are the only thing approaching a bonus in this Paramount Widescreen edition. The inside of the case is empty save for the disc, and the cover has an incorrect release date. Someone must have decided that The Black Orchid wasn’t going to have film buffs poring over its history.

Review By Michael Rottman