Yolanda and the Thief (1945)

The Worst Film Ever

Pretty good movie overall. First half was nothing special but it got better as it went along.

If the ambition is to provide two hours of instantly forgettable, popcorn-munching escapism, it succeeds.

Although I seem to have had higher expectations than I thought, the movie is super entertaining.

When Yolanda and the Thief is good it is great, but when it is not so good it does significantly underwhelm, a case of having a lot of style and not enough substance. Like The Belle of New York, Yolanda and the Thief is one of Astaire's weakest films, but has a number of virtues that is enough for one to stick with it.Yolanda and the Thief does look glorious, with positively exotic colours, lavish cinematography and opulent costumes. In this regard, the best and most interesting scene visually is the dream sequence, which looks really stunning. The songs are not enough and they are not the most memorable in the world, but they are pleasant and fun and don't drag the film down too much, the best song being the riotous Coffee Time.Vincente Minnelli directs very imaginatively, his sense for storytelling has been much stronger in his other films but in terms of style and visual imagination he triumphs. Choreographically, Yolanda and the Thief dazzles as much as the visuals, especially in the dream sequence, which is very colourfully and elegantly choreographed and superbly danced, and Coffee Time, which has the most energy the film ever gets. Fred Astaire is in a different role to usual(very like Three Little Words, except his performance is better in that) and while it does seem like an ill fit at first, he plays it with real grace, suavity and charm while his dancing is magnificent as always. Lucille Bremer proves herself one of his most elegant partners and she dances exquisitely, while Mildred Natwick has fun as the Aunt.The story however struggles to sustain the running time, is very predictable even for a 40s musical and strains credibility quite badly. The opening sequence is unnecessary and clumsily handled and the ending felt abrupt and under-explained. The script manages to be even thinner and the attempts at humour are leaden and unfunny, while the film shamefully wastes Frank Morgan and Leon Ames, two very reliable actors when with good material but their roles here do nothing for their talents at all. Outside of the musical numbers the film also struggles maintaining momentum, and while her dancing is delightful Bremer seemed very overtaxed and cold in her acting.All in all, one of Astaire's weakest but has enough to partially recommend it. 6/10 Bethany Cox

Vincente Minnelli's "Yolanda and the Thief" never fails to fascinate me; the Technicolor, extraordinary art direction, costume design, orchestration (unfortunately the Arthur Freed-Harry Warren songs are not up to the task) and the extraordinary photography of Charles Rosher are compelling and wonderful. In defense of Lucille Bremer, the role of Yolanda was probably an unplayable one and no matter how coached she couldn't quite pull it off. Could anybody have played this part? I don't think so. (Unfortunately it appears to have ended her career at MGM.) In the dream sequence, "Angel" and "Coffee Time" she is excellent; otherwise she struggles with the part and it shows. The more veteran performers - Astaire, Frank Morgan and Mildred Natwick shore up the enterprise. As with the equally baroque "The Pirate", "Yolanda and the Thief" pushed the limits of the film technology and audience sensibilities of the time and I think they were worth it thanks to Arthur Freed (producer) and Vincente Minnelli (director).

It's impossible to hate any film with Fred Astaire, Frank Morgan and Mildred Natwick giving their considerable all, but it's awfully hard to like any film with such forgettable songs (out of Harry Warren's bottom drawer), forgettable dances inspired by them from choreographer Eugene Loring (except for the promising percussive *introduction* to an ultimately dreary number called "Coffee Time") and a script that never pays off on a single one of its satiric possibilities.At it's best, the old "studio system" of production by second guessing and committee could produce masterpieces. At its muddled worst, it produced things like YOLANDA AND THE THIEF and blamed them on the cast. Coming at about the middle of Fred Astaire's long film career, and early in Lucille Bremer's four year one, it couldn't ultimately hurt Astaire who would be back on top in three years with EASTER PARADE (interesting that his brief "retirement" in response to this turkey is not remembered in the same way Bette Davis's similarly motivated walkout from another studio is for his being "difficult"), but it did nothing to promote Bremer's career despite what looked like acceptable dancing and at least minimal acting skills and a certain homogenized beauty.Chief blame would appear to lie with Irving Brecher's script from Ludwig Bemelmans & Jacques Thery's nasty little fairy tale of a story. Trading on the worst stereotypes of the evils of a Convent education (not that a too sheltered education isn't a bad thing), Bremer's "Yolanda" is too naive to be believed and a victim looking for a crime. Only those ALMOST as naive in the audience will not recognize Leon Ames's "Mr. Candle" character immediately for what he turns out to be, and the simple (even expected) plot twists which could make his character and Mildred Natwick's "Aunt Amarilla" interesting are never forthcoming. Only Natwick's self centered monologue when Bremer returns to her home from the convent rises above the rest of the script and is very funny - creating hopes for what follows that never pay off. The final scene of the film is so perfunctory you get the impression the studio told Minnelli to wrap up filming regardless of what was left to do - but fans of the British sci-fi sitcom "Red Dwarf" may be amused to note that the central gimmick of the scene (and the film's only moment of misdirection or real irony) was stolen years later as the basis for a Red Dwarf episode in its first season.Among things which ARE of interest in the film: the man who went on to become the great Broadway dancer and choreographer, Matt Mattox, is buried somewhere in the innocuous mess as an unbilled "featured dancer." One wonders if the (uncredited) "Dilettante" played by an actor calling himself "Andre Charlot" is any relation to the great British producer who introduced Gertrude Lawrence and Beatrice Lillie to U.S. shores for the first time in the 1920's?

Extraordinary and ghastly, as though Eugene Ionesco had adapted "The Wizard of Oz" as an overlong "Touched by an Angel" movie-of-the-week special. Vapid music, tediously absurd characters, overheated mises en scène, and loathsome ethnic and religious caricatures unredeemed by any good dancing. Who'd have guessed that this stinker was hiding in Astaire's closet next to his top hat, tails, and that cute toreador outfit from "Broadway Melody of 1940"?