OPERA NEWS, April 2011, p. 78.
ROMBERG: The Desert Song
Sherwood, Essen; N. Eddy, Kruger, Conte, Baccaloni, William; studio orchestra, Sanford. Production: Liebman.  VA.I4534, 75 mins,, black and white, no subtitles.
Nelson Eddy never made it onto the Met roster, though he was one of the finest American baritones of the twentieth century. Had he chosen opera over film, he would probably be regarded now as a singer on the level of Tibbett, Warren and Merrill. He had just about everything —looks, personality, acting talent and a solid, seamless baritone with a warm timbre that went straight to the heart. It is no wonder that he was one of the most widely popular and highly paid singers of his day.
Eddy was almost thirty-four when he became a film star opposite Jeanette Mac-Donald in MGM’s operetta hit Naughty Marietta. By that point he had plenty of concert and opera experience behind him, including the American premieres of Richard Strauss’s Ariadne auf Naxos and Feuersnot in Philadelphia, plus two Wolframs in San Francisco,
In 1955, twenty-two years after his film debut, he starred in this live television version of Hungarian-born American composer Sigmund Romberg’s delightful romantic adventure The Desert Song. Though he was by then about twice the age his character (the dashing Red Shadow) is meant to be, it seemed to matter little to his adoring public. Producer/ director Max Liebman spared no expense for this high-profile color telecast, now available to us only in black and white. He supplied Eddy with a lavish production and a top-flight cast, and to adapt the operetta’s original book (condensed here to seventy-five minutes), he hired a trio of hotshot young TV writers, including theyoung Neil Simon.
For those of us familiar with Eddys 1930s film hits, it’s a bit dispiriting to see him playing a young swashbuckler while looking every day of his fifty-three years, By this time, his features had coarsened; he was thick around the middle, and his posture was loose and slumpy. But that voice is as resonant and charismatic as ever, and as easily produced. The star quality was undeniably fading, but the talent remained, abetted by a nation of fans who had worshipped him for twenty years. Cast opposite Eddy is Gale Sherwood, an attractive soprano who had recently begun costarring with him in his nightclub act and would continue to do so until his death twelve years later. Sherwood had the lovely, pitch-perfect voice and diction so important in this repertoire, as well as a sexy, assured presence.
Liebman, a specialist in TV versions of musicals and operettas, surrounded Eddy and Sherwood with film and theater veterans. Salvatore Baccaloni took time off from his basso buffo duties at the Met to play the libidinous pasha Ali Ben Ali, whom he manages to make endearing despite his inappropriately thick Italian accent. Although his voice here is no longer so rich as it once was, he nonetheless etches a memorable comic character with his brief time onscreen. Otto Kruger, playing Eddy’s father, acts with elegance. Earl William lends his striking Broadway tenor and pleasing personality to the functionary role of Hassi, and John Conte makes a low-key, well-spoken rival for Eddy. Broadway dancers Bambi Linn (the original Louise in Carousel) and her real-life husband, Rod Alexander, make a lovely dance team in a sort of dream ballet.
Liebman’s direction is fluid and lively, filled with elaborate camera moves for the choral and dancing sequences. Charles Sanford does an exuberant job of conducting what sounds like an enormous orchestra. ERIC MYERS
