Movie Review: Roseland a film by James Ivory

Reviewed by Gerti

This Merchant/Ivory production from 1977 is a bit of an anomaly. It has nothing to do with India, and nothing to do with England! Helena Bonham Carter is not even in it! That’s what “Roseland” is not. But what it is, is a lovely series of three vignettes about the ladies who frequent a New York dance hall by that romantic name. Like the name, the place is old-fashioned, almost a locale stuck in time.

The first vignette “The Waltz” is about May, an older lady who is a remarkable dancer, and very well looking for her age. But partners soon tire of her because every word out of her mouth is about her late husband Ed, and what a fabulous person he was. She is at first upset when the vulgar Stan wants to partner her in a waltz, until she sees a remarkable thing as they whisk past a mirror. Reflected there is an image of her husband and herself as young people, dancing. But this vision only appears when she dances past the mirror with Stan. Of course, her overwhelming love for her dead spouse forces her to seek Stan out, until finally she realizes the nature of the apparition. Her dead husband is telling her he’s picked out the man who will make her happy in the present, and that is Stan.

The second vignette stars famed actor Christopher Walken as a slick male dancer at the Roseland Ballroom named Russel who has sold his soul, if not his body, to a wealthy older woman named Pauline. The segment captures the events between Pauline’s two birthdays. At the first, she has introduced a recently-divorced friend named Marilyn to the dance hall. Russel takes an instant shine to the younger woman, their romance watched carefully by his dance teacher, Cleo. Although Pauline seems oblivious to developments between Russel and her friend, the couple finally decide to live together on the sly, with Marilyn paying for Russel’s dance lessons so he can become a star. Of course, when Pauline gives Russel an expensive gold watch after he takes care of her during a short illness, her money trumps any love he may feel for the now crushed Marilyn. “The Hustle” is more like a mini-film called “Dancehall Gigolo.”

The final vignette, and the most heart-breaking one for me is called “The Peabody”, which despite years of watching Dancing with the Stars I’d never known was a dance move. In it, Rosa, a woman from Vienna, sets out to win the dance competition with her frequent partner Arthur. He is a terrible dancer, and Rosa looks terrible, with garish, poorly applied makeup. But Arthur loves her for her spirit, as when they’re not dancing, she tells him all her dreams of singing opera, even though she’s a cook who sings covers of throaty Marlene Dietrich songs. Arthur proposes, but Rosa is too much of a fool to accept him, and admits she’s never even been to his home. When his health suffers, she complains about having to visit him at the hospital to the ladies room attendant. In the final scene, the thrilling young MC asks her to dance the Peabody, and like so many others who’ve danced it, she falls into a death swoon. It’s a very sentimental end to this Ruth Prawer Jhabvala screenplay.