|
 The
gigantic saucer eyes, the enormous ear-to-ear grin revealing a wall of
pearly white teeth, the baby talk and platinum bob have graced American
stage, movie screens and television sets for longer than many people
have been alive. In her ninth decade of life, Carol Channing has made a
document of her incredible life that is as delightful and effervescent
as the bubbly star herself.
Director Dori Berinstein (Who we interviewed for her previous film,
Gotta Dance), sets the stage in the heart of Broadway with her
subject; thin, fragile-appearing, but full of energy and sharp as a
tack. Right off the bat, Carol Channing regales us with stories of her
decades on The Great White Way and some of the other legends she has
known. Her chance meeting with some twenty-something Broadway “gypsies”
at a stage door finds the young men practically kneeling at Channing’s
feet. Her words to the dancers sound more like a starry-eyed young girl
who truly believes in the power the stage has over its audience and what
a privilege it is to be allowed to entertain. Awfully down to earth for
a living legend, she poo-poohs any ovation she receives at the
revelation of her approaching ninetieth birthday with a wave, quipping,
“it’s just one of those things that happens.” We’re taken back to
Channing’s early life in San Francisco as a child who initially learned
to entertain others by creating her own make-believe world. Her first
appearance before an audience had her immediately and irrevocably
hooked; Channing even chose a university based on her desire to perfect
her stage craft. We are shown photographs of Channing’s childhood,
which we later discover she claimed were burned in a fire, possibly to
derail any correct suspicion that she was, in actuality, one quarter
black; a fact Channing claims not to have known until her mother
confessed shortly before her daughter entered college. Channing’s
unrelenting schedule of stage runs, road tours and promotional
appearances that continued for decades, gives us a portrait of a person
for whom entertainment was a devotion, not an occupation. Berinstein
takes us behind the glamourous costumes and blinding smile to show us,
albeit briefly, and with precious little comment from Channing herself,
the sacrifices she made to follow this life; including suffering a
long-standing, unhappy marriage to one tyrannical husband, who ended up
running off with all of Channing’s hard-earned fortunes. We have a very
quick reference to Channing’s only son, who never appears in the film to
give his testimony to the star’s painfully honest admission that her
career came before motherhood. It’s clear to the viewer that Channing’s
true family was the troupe: The men and women she worked with to create
glittering fantasies to delight the audience. Interviews with other
Broadway legends like Jerry Herman, who composed Channing’s signature
play, Hello, Dolly, Chita Rivera and Tommy Tune give wonderful insights
and anecdotes. (For all the interviews by Channing’s peers, I was a
bit puzzled by the inclusion of 1980’s sitcom star, Loni Anderson, who
seems only present to relate to Channing as a funny blonde.) A
group of dancers who worked with Channing on two separate revivals of
Hello, Dolly, twenty years apart, talk of her innate kindness; recalling
the star stopping a show in order to check on an exhausted young dancer
suffering from HIV. Journalist Barbara Walters captures what separates
this entertainer from so many others when she tells of never having
heard anyone ever say a mean thing about Carol Channing.
Along
for the trip down memory lane is Channing’s husband, Harry Kullijian,
her childhood sweetheart, whose memories -- like his spouse’s -- are
clear as a bell. The love story of Carol and Harry, spanning more than
seventy years of missed opportunities and well-meaning errors, is one of
the most moving aspects of the film. They are total soul mates: Harry’s
off-hand sense of humour and supportive pride for his mate and Carol’s
adoration of her man are completely undiminished since the photos of the
pair together as teenagers with hearts practically flying out of their
eyes. It’s the kind of relationship people of any age dream of, and to
see it in full boom with both of the subjects closing in on a full
century is remarkable. The viewer comes away with the feeling that
Channing’s years spent with her Harry might have been the happiest of
her adult life. It makes the documentary that much more poignant to
know that just weeks before the film’s opening, on December 26th,
2011, Mr. Kullijian passed away on the eve of his ninety-second
birthday. Still, the romance that is captured onscreen is a lifetime’s
worth and a lovely sunset for this amazing lady who gave her all in the
name of entertainment.
Berinstein has a humanistic, instinctively emotional approach to her
documentaries that is involving and fun. Her choice of subject does
help a bit in that regard; the still-bubbly, chatty Channing could charm
Mount Rushmore. Berinstein uses an animated version of the famous Al
Hirschfeld caricature of Channing as Dolly Levi to introduce new
segments and the effect is adorable. The archival footage of the star
singing Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend through several decades and
mediums and multi-administration command performances at the White
House, is great, as is Channing’s groovy appearance on the
groundbreaking 1960’s comedy show, Laugh-In, with fellow alleged dumb
blonde, Goldie Hawn. There is a lot to focus on in Channing’s career,
disappointments as well as highlights: Berinstein examines Channing’s
inability to be as accepted in Hollywood as she was on Broadway,
including the doc’s one slightly catty moment where Channing evinces
studied silence as a reaction to anyone asking her how wonderful Barbra
Streisand was replacing her in the film version of Hello, Dolly.
Strangely, the same question isn’t broached earlier in the film with the
first evidence of Hollywood’s schadenfreude, when Marilyn Monroe took
over Channing’s star-making role, playing Lorelei Lee in the movie
version of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. One senses that the documentary is
more meant to be a celebration of Channing and her work, and so sadder
points that may have existed in her personal life are only lightly
handled and then spoken of kindly by friends such as Debbie Reynolds.
We see Channing as disciplined as an ascetic to her craft and to the
rigors of the road; shamefacedly confessing to having missed half a
performance in Kalamazoo due to food poisoning -- her only need for a
stand-in, ever. As she prepares to perform at the Kennedy Center Honors
for her friend, Jerry Herman; the elderly star, thin and frail of form,
is willing to work as hard as any of the young pups twirling about
behind her, wanting to learn her cues and do all that is expected.
Carol
Channing: Larger Than Life is an inspiring, engaging and emotional
portrait of an artist and the decades of commitment she dedicated to
making her dreams and those of her audience come true.
~ The
Lady Miz Diva
February 3rd, 2012
© 2006-2022 The Diva Review.com |
