Plot isn't everything, as this third and final classical Hollywood adaptation of the popular-novel-turned-Broadway-hit "Show Boat" demonstrates. It removes the comedic detours of the 1936 version, along with downgrading the roles of the black characters Joe and Queenie, as well as those of Magnolia's parents, while expanding that of Julie, for a tighter resolution. Most of the dialogue is blandly rewritten to serve the lurid melodramatic progression of the central narrative of marital strife between Magnolia and her gambler husband, which I think may be the least interesting part of the story. Nearly all of the stuff concerning social stratification, both racial and musical and the parallels between them, found in the 1936 film are gone here. Except for the renditions of "Ol' Man River," African Americans are marginalized to the background and as stereotypes, with musical numbers originally written for them being performed here by white characters. Moreover, the re-placement of some of these (especially "C'mon Folks" and " "Life Upon the Wicked Stage" during the New Year's Eve sequence) are irrelevant and overly elaborate dance routines, and the score is bombastic in its constant attuning of the spectator to the ever-heightened emotional state of the drama. Meanwhile, the Technicolor design ranges from bland browns to garish greens, while the camerawork and editing are trifling compared to either the 1936 film or even the goat-gland mess of the 1929 version.
William Warfield does a terrific rendition of "Ol' Man River"--perhaps even comparable to that of Paul Robeson--and it's the best filmed part here, but the Technicolor and over-working fog machine pale in comparison to dolly and pan movements and montage work of the 1936 scene. That Joe isn't integrated into the narrative here as was Robeson's iteration also reduces the power of the song, which itself is even shortened here, removing some of the more provocative racial language. In the 1936 film, I consider him the most pivotal character. If not for that one song being so good, however, Joe may as well have been taken out of this version entirely. After all, up to the song, the depiction of African Americans are of content cotton pickers adoring the appearance of the show boat with its white performers and are otherwise entirely servile towards white people. There's no Hattie McDaniel's Queenie here quipping, "Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies." In fact, there's barely any Queenie at all. There's barely an acknowledgement of the theme of cultural exchange or appropriation, either, of whites performing traditionally black music. Instead, the film just appropriates it for the white characters, with the one exception, and pushes the African-American characters to the margins. The result is that the film itself endorses the sort of Jim Crow segregation that its storyline of the biracial Julie is meant to oppose.
The reduction of the parts of Magnolia's parents creates some lesser problems, including the drunk father showing up out of nowhere shouting "Happy New Year" as though he has OCD and then leaving it unexplained, later, as to how the mother knows to mimic the way he says the phrase. Additionally, perhaps, the oddest aspect of this adaptation is the focus on the cane of Gaylord, Magnolia's husband. Magnolia's handling of the phallic object takes an awkwardly sexually-suggestive turn as she continually cleans its knob by blowing on and rubbing it, including when she plans to make up with him after an argument, as well as stroking it as she cries over his leaving her at another point. The mind boggles as to why this adaptation was the most successful on the screen, with its focus on that one relationship at the expense of the racial issues and self-reflexive stratification of theatrical performance of other versions.
William Warfield does a terrific rendition of "Ol' Man River"--perhaps even comparable to that of Paul Robeson--and it's the best filmed part here, but the Technicolor and over-working fog machine pale in comparison to dolly and pan movements and montage work of the 1936 scene. That Joe isn't integrated into the narrative here as was Robeson's iteration also reduces the power of the song, which itself is even shortened here, removing some of the more provocative racial language. In the 1936 film, I consider him the most pivotal character. If not for that one song being so good, however, Joe may as well have been taken out of this version entirely. After all, up to the song, the depiction of African Americans are of content cotton pickers adoring the appearance of the show boat with its white performers and are otherwise entirely servile towards white people. There's no Hattie McDaniel's Queenie here quipping, "Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies." In fact, there's barely any Queenie at all. There's barely an acknowledgement of the theme of cultural exchange or appropriation, either, of whites performing traditionally black music. Instead, the film just appropriates it for the white characters, with the one exception, and pushes the African-American characters to the margins. The result is that the film itself endorses the sort of Jim Crow segregation that its storyline of the biracial Julie is meant to oppose.
The reduction of the parts of Magnolia's parents creates some lesser problems, including the drunk father showing up out of nowhere shouting "Happy New Year" as though he has OCD and then leaving it unexplained, later, as to how the mother knows to mimic the way he says the phrase. Additionally, perhaps, the oddest aspect of this adaptation is the focus on the cane of Gaylord, Magnolia's husband. Magnolia's handling of the phallic object takes an awkwardly sexually-suggestive turn as she continually cleans its knob by blowing on and rubbing it, including when she plans to make up with him after an argument, as well as stroking it as she cries over his leaving her at another point. The mind boggles as to why this adaptation was the most successful on the screen, with its focus on that one relationship at the expense of the racial issues and self-reflexive stratification of theatrical performance of other versions.