One Night of Love: A bit dusty, but it sings

Is it worth the time?

Look, if you have zero patience for 1930s melodrama or opera, just walk away now. You will probably hate the pacing and the way everyone talks like they are constantly projecting to the back row of a theater. But if you like watching people try to make it big in show business, there is something weirdly charming about One Night of Love.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of One Night of Love (1934) through its definitive frames.

It is not a masterpiece, and it definitely feels like it was filmed in another century. But it has a heartbeat, which is more than I can say for some of the stuff coming out lately.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of One Night of Love (1934) through its definitive frames.

The Voice

Grace Moore really does have a set of pipes. When she starts hitting those high notes, you stop caring that the plot is basically just a string of misunderstandings and professional bickering. She carries the whole film on her shoulders.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of One Night of Love (1934) through its definitive frames.

The Maestro, played by Tullio Carminati, is exactly the kind of arrogant, brooding mentor archetype you expect. At one point he’s scolding her for not feeling the music properly, and I swear he spends more time staring at his own reflection in the piano lid than at her. It’s a bit much, honestly. 🙄

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of One Night of Love (1934) through its definitive frames.

Oddly Specific Things

• The sets look like they were built out of cardboard and sheer ambition.
• Every time the characters have a "deep" conversation, they stand about three feet too far apart.
• The way they handle jealousy is so theatrical it almost borders on a comedy sketch.
• There is a scene in an apartment that feels like it lasts for an entire afternoon, just people walking in and out of doors.

It reminds me a little bit of the energy in The Triumph of Venus, but with a lot more singing and slightly less statuesque posing. It’s not trying to change the world. It’s just trying to get you to like an opera star.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of One Night of Love (1934) through its definitive frames.

Some parts of this film are painfully slow. The middle section just sort of drifts, and you find yourself checking your phone or looking at the wall. Then, suddenly, someone starts singing again, and you’re back in it. It’s that kind of movie.

Is it better than Left Over Ladies? Hard to say, they’re such different beasts. But I’ll take a real voice singing over a boring script any day. Even if that script is a bit of a relic.

I left the movie feeling like I’d just had a very long, very fancy dinner with someone who talks a lot about their career. Kind of exhausting, but I’m glad I went. 🎭