Imitation of Larger-Than-Life
Shot in quasi-Technicolor as a tribute to the movies of the 1950s, Anything But Love is a congenial romance that lacks conviction. Writers Isabel Rose and Robert Cary, who also directed the picture, do manage to bring a theatrical sense to the screen.
Without a good story, however, they do not put on a grand show. Rose plays a struggling waitress named Billie Golden, who sings pop standards in New York's cabarets. Billie capably belts out the tunes and, when she isn't auditioning or performing, waits tables and takes care of her alcoholic mother (Alix Korey). Rose's appealing personality shines through, and she looks glamorous enough, but she doesn't have the charisma to carry the picture.
The plot doesn't make playing Billie easy. It's not enough that Billie's a struggling singer in a niche profession, or that she's saddled with a drunken mother, or that she romanticizes her deceased entertainer-father. Billie's also torn between a jaded non-conformist (Andrew McCarthy) and a handsome conformist (Cameron Bancroft).
Billie's interest in McCarthy's cynical piano player, Elliot, hinges on a creative partnership that director Cary fails to capture. McCarthy is more whiny than weary, and his down-and-out songwriter isn't even inspired to write a song for Billie to sing. What could have been classic scenes—chance encounters in swanky bars, falling in love while practicing, meeting on Manhattan sidewalks—are merely pretty pictures.
That Billie's attraction to suburban security—she is also drawn to an old high school crush who has become a lawyer (Bancroft)—leads her to the altar with such a lifeless bore isn't any more involving.
Several production numbers are nicely done, especially fantasy sequences in which Billie is made over by a couple of trophy wives and when Billie dances with the handsome lawyer. Director Cary, an ex-dancer who choreographed the scenes, makes the most of a low budget with good lighting, costumes and sets. Though brief appearances by Manhattan cabaret singer Eartha Kitt, playing herself, should have been cut out of kindness to the aging star.
With a trite theme—finding true love means being true to oneself—Anything But Love doesn't exactly hit the high notes. Neither a starry musical nor a vibrant melodrama, it's a flawed tribute to Hollywood's past with music and a splash of glamour, which makes it easier on the eyes and ears than the season's noisiest blockbusters.
Without a good story, however, they do not put on a grand show. Rose plays a struggling waitress named Billie Golden, who sings pop standards in New York's cabarets. Billie capably belts out the tunes and, when she isn't auditioning or performing, waits tables and takes care of her alcoholic mother (Alix Korey). Rose's appealing personality shines through, and she looks glamorous enough, but she doesn't have the charisma to carry the picture.
The plot doesn't make playing Billie easy. It's not enough that Billie's a struggling singer in a niche profession, or that she's saddled with a drunken mother, or that she romanticizes her deceased entertainer-father. Billie's also torn between a jaded non-conformist (Andrew McCarthy) and a handsome conformist (Cameron Bancroft).
Billie's interest in McCarthy's cynical piano player, Elliot, hinges on a creative partnership that director Cary fails to capture. McCarthy is more whiny than weary, and his down-and-out songwriter isn't even inspired to write a song for Billie to sing. What could have been classic scenes—chance encounters in swanky bars, falling in love while practicing, meeting on Manhattan sidewalks—are merely pretty pictures.
That Billie's attraction to suburban security—she is also drawn to an old high school crush who has become a lawyer (Bancroft)—leads her to the altar with such a lifeless bore isn't any more involving.
Several production numbers are nicely done, especially fantasy sequences in which Billie is made over by a couple of trophy wives and when Billie dances with the handsome lawyer. Director Cary, an ex-dancer who choreographed the scenes, makes the most of a low budget with good lighting, costumes and sets. Though brief appearances by Manhattan cabaret singer Eartha Kitt, playing herself, should have been cut out of kindness to the aging star.
With a trite theme—finding true love means being true to oneself—Anything But Love doesn't exactly hit the high notes. Neither a starry musical nor a vibrant melodrama, it's a flawed tribute to Hollywood's past with music and a splash of glamour, which makes it easier on the eyes and ears than the season's noisiest blockbusters.
