Mark Griffin by A Hundred or More Hidden Things: The Life, Films of Vincente Minnelli Read Free Book Online

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early scenes, Bremer is noticeably older than her convent classmates, who, in their pinafores and picture hats, seem to have emerged directly from the pages of Madeline . Although Yolanda has its fiercely devoted partisans, there was only one sequence in the film that seemed to please everybody—the justly celebrated “Coffee Time.” Freed from their arch dialogue and contrived situations, Astaire and Bremer were finally allowed to do what they did best: dance. During this one number (choreographed by Eugene Loring), Minnelli’s movie suddenly and all too fleetingly sprang to life.

    Taking the plunge: Yolanda Aquaviva (Lucille Bremer) in her luxurious, baroque bathtub in Yolanda and the Thief . Yolanda ’s coauthor Ludwig Bemelmans had high hopes for the film’s leading lady. As he told Arthur Freed: “It is so nice and so exciting to sit at the birth of what will be a great star.” PHOTO COURTESY OF PHOTOFEST
    In the end, not even this exhilarating sequence could save Yolanda from its fate. To wartime audiences accustomed to the likes of Four Jills in a Jeep , Yolanda must have seemed as accessible and inviting as a Jackson Pollock canvas. “ Yolanda is such an interesting failure because it has got these amazing flights of imagination,” says writer Clive Hirschhorn. “I mean, ‘Coffee Time’ is just wonderful and the color scheme throughout the film is simply breathtaking, but the film as a whole just doesn’t work because it doesn’t really invite you in. It’s almost too experimental. Too clever.” 4
    As Astaire recalled, “We all tried hard and thought we had something, but as it turned out, we didn’t. There were some complicated and effective dances which scored, but the whole idea was too much on the fantasy side and it did not do well.”

    Edwin Schallert’s mixed review in the Los Angeles Times seemed to sum up the general consensus: “‘Not for realists’ is a label that may be appropriately affixed to Yolanda and the Thief . It is a question, too, whether this picture has the basic material to satisfy the general audience, although in texture and trimmings it might be termed an event.”
    But, as usual, it was Judy Garland who nailed the entire experience with a devastating one-liner. After a cooly received sneak preview of Yolanda , it became clear that despite Freed’s best efforts, Bremer lacked genuine star appeal and Minnelli’s musical was something of a misfire. As Garland passed a dispirited Arthur Freed, she quipped: “Never mind, Arthur, Pomona isn’t Lucille’s town.” 5
    “The picture made money,” Minnelli would assert in his autobiography, but the MGM ledgers told a different story, estimating a net loss of $1,644,000 (in 1945 dollars). Despite the paltry box-office returns and the lukewarm reviews, Yolanda and the Thief , like several of Vincente’s later efforts, retroactively achieved cult status, attracting a devoted following of fans who found the film’s bizarre mélange of Dada, Dali, and Technicolor irresistibly appealing. Among the faithful were MGM arranger Kay Thompson and her Eloise illustrator Hilary Knight, who both embraced the inspired lunacy that is Yolanda .
    “We were always talking about things that we liked or Kay’s experiences at MGM, which were hilarious but usually not very kind to the people involved,” Knight remembers. “We also talked about things that we loved about movies and we both agreed that we loved Yolanda ”—and especially Mildred Natwick’s scatterbrained, chihuahua-toting Aunt Amarilla, who spouts the movie’s most delectable lines. At one point, the pixilated Amarilla turns to a devoted servant and imperiously demands, “Do my fingernails immediately . . . and bring them to my room!”
    In addition to delivering the film’s wittiest zingers, the veteran character actress also had an opportunity to observe Freed and Bremer in close proximity. While the studio rumor mill would inextricably link the