ANNA AND THE KING OF SIAM (20th Century Fox 1946) Fox Home Video

Hollywood’s first major attempt to capitalize on the life and legend of Anna Leonowens, tutor to the many royal offspring of Siam’s King Mongkut was Anna and the King of Siam (1946); heavily drawn on the mystique of the orient, Leonowen’s rather lurid and potently romanticized depictions of her ‘influence’ on the royal household, and Margaret Landon’s even more highly fictionalized novelization of those experiences, from whence, most directly, director, John Cromwell culled his inspiration. The screenplay by Talbot Jennings and Sally Benson embellishes even Landon’s prose, gilding the lily with a romantic luster furnished upon the relationship between Siam’s stern sovereign and this much younger, pert, if plucky reincarnation of Leonowens, in the manifestation of Irene Dunne. Rex Harrison inherited the mantle of the potentate, and saw to it his western views permeated virtually every frame of this plushily produced, studio-bound saga. Harrison’s ego splendidly dovetails into his portrait of the irascible Mongkut. Having earned the moniker ‘sexy Rexy’ in his off hours, Harrison was well into his notorious love affair with another of the studio’s up-and-comers, Carol Landis, despite being wed to actress, Lily Palmer at the time. As an aside: the Harrison/Landis romance would crescendo in tragedy when, in 1948, she committed suicide, presumably as bitter recompense for her lover having rejected her intentions, he should divorce his wife for her. Landis was only 29!

But in 1946, the first go-around of Harrison’s American stardom had yet to reach its apex; the actor’s state’s side lucky streak, effectively kicked off with international fame garnered from 1941’s Major Barbara, Blithe Spirit, and The Rake’s Progress (both in 1945). Even with all the success Harrison enjoyed, his career prospects thus far paled to his co-star, Irene Dunne. Then, Dunne’s was the more prolific and enduring career; an instant star from 1929 on – appearing in some of the golden thirties’ irrefutable film highlights: Back Street (1932), Magnificent Obsession (1935), Show Boat, and, Theodora Goes Wild (both in 1936, the latter for which she was Oscar-nominated), The Awful Truth (1937), and, Love Affair (1939). By the mid-forties, Dunne endeavored to mature her participation in the picture-making biz, not so much tired of playing the madcap as realizing her ingenue years were fast fading. And thus, she turned to more quaintly charmed rom/coms like My Favorite Wife (1940) and all-out melodramas like Penny Serenade (1941) to fill the bill. Anna and the King of Siam caps Dunne’s career at the height of its full flourish; the actress, as radiant as ever, yet having found a more seasoned emotional core to augment her performance. Through her eyes and experiences, we enter the exoticism of this third-world tropical paradise, the first sight of Dunne in her imperial hoop skirts, entering the tiered kingdom of Siam, instantly establishing her Anna Leonowens as a force of reckoning.

Rather deliciously, the Jennings/Benson screenplay relies heavily on the gentle sparring between Harrison’s steely-eyed dictator and Dunne’s forthright marm, devout in her western beliefs, and never too far from suggesting them as remedies to political situations beyond the King’s control. As a matter of record, the real Anna Leonowens did not hold much sway over Mongkut’s sweeping reforms – nor, as the prim and well-bred Bombay-born Brit, was she to have engaged in an affair du Coeur with the King. Indeed, viewed beyond its Victorian trappings, the literary accounts of her 1862-1868 palace tutelage of the King’s many children have since been regarded as a work of pure fiction. Leonowens claim, that she tamed and matured Mongkut from his crude and self-indulgent eccentricities, is hardly digestible, given his 27 years as a Buddhist monk, and later abbot, before ascending his throne. Indeed, many of the reforms he would later institute were even being bandied about during his father’s time. And expanding her own role in these memoirs as governess to the royal children was equally to be dispelled; Leonowens, hired merely to teach English, even as she lacked virtually any ability to converse with the Siamese in their native Thai language.

The Jennings/Benson screenplay’s modus operandi is to compare and countermand the culture clash between Imperialist Britain’s Victorian values and Mongkut’s autocracy. To this end, there is little room for the historical truths to intervene. And, in 1946, at the height of the WWII, audiences were more readily accepting of such fantastic mythologizing, immaculately tricked out in Arthur C. Miller’s Oscar-winning cinematography; the movie’s only other Academy Award, justly deserved for Best Art Direction (Lyle R. Wheeler, William S. Darling, Thomas Little, Frank E. Hughes). Liberating the picture from its bygone actualities, Anna and the King of Siam excels in its alternate reality. Lost in translation: the truth about Tuptim who, in virtually every movie incarnation – including Rodgers and Hammerstein’s musicalized The King and I (1956) and even Andy Tennant’s lavishly produced costume epic, Anna and the King (1999) - is publicly executed at Mongkut’s reluctant behest. Indeed, a woman claiming to be Tuptim’s granddaughter has denied her grandmother died of anything but natural causes and at a ripe old age; the type of execution – beheading - depicted herein, never practiced in Siam.

In this version of the story, Anna’s son, Louis (Richard Lyons) is trampled to death in a riding accident, thus promoting the forlorn widow’s decision to remain in Siam as a sort of ‘foster-mother’ for the young Prince Chulalongkorn (Tito Renaldo). In reality, Louis Leonowens grew into adulthood and actually outlived his mother. Also, untrue – the picture’s dénouement, which suggests Anna remained ever-present at the King’s deathbed, when in truth, the real Leonowens had already departed for home in 1867, a full year before Mongkut’s passing. As a matter of record, the real Anna Leonowens was not invited to resume her post by Siam’s newly appointed ruler. Of the artistic revisions, made mostly in service of a good ole-fashioned fable, the most egregious oversights linger around the character of Tuptim (Linda Darnell), herein as unsympathetic and even marginally deserving of her filmic fate, for having transgressed against the King with a former lover. However, in setting aside reality, this earliest of these Fox fantasies remains rather ingeniously indebted to only a thumbnail sketch of history, rewritten into infinitely more glamorous and emotionally satisfying fiction.

Our story begins in 1862, with Anna ‘Owens’ arrival in Bangkok, accompanied by her young son, Louis. Erroneously believing she has acclimatized herself to the local customs, Anna is mildly put off when the Kralahome (Lee J. Cobb) interrogates her with a barrage of personal questions; a common courtesy in Siam. Anna’s letter from King Mongkut has promised her a house of her own. But soon, Anna learns the King expects her to reside within the palace walls, and, in fact, in his harem – albeit, in a private room. The next day, having realized her faux pas, Anna attends the Kralahome at his office. Eager to clear up the matter of her private residence, Anna insists the Kralahome work her into the King’s busy schedule. As it is New Year in Siam, this proves a minor inconvenience. However, Anna absolutely refuses to prostrate herself before the King – a sign of respect. Instead, she will bow as she would for her own Queen Victoria. The irascible Mongkut fires off a litany of impertinent personal questions at Anna, to which she replies nonsensically. Admiring her fearlessness, the King hurriedly introduces Anna to his many wives and children, expanding upon her original duties by demanding she also educate his wives in western customs and culture. Invigorated by his confidence in her, Anna wastes no time reminding the King of his promise of a house of her own; a promise Mongkut denies. To convince Anna to remain within the palace walls, Mongkut shows her a deplorable shack near the stench of the local fish market; a hovel Anna rejects outright, remaining within the palace by necessity.

Head wife, Lady Thiang (Gale Sondergaard), who speaks and comprehends limited English, remains Anna’s translator and confidant.  Refusing to surrender her promise of a house, Anna begins teaching everyone the song, ‘Home, Sweet Home’ – soon, to be heard everywhere throughout the kingdom, and a chronic reminder to Mongkut of Anna’s refusal to give in on her demands. The constant sparring between Anna and the King is what fuels the first act of the movie; their mildly adversarial and occasionally barbed badinage intruded upon when the Kralahome informs Mongkut that Cambodia has become a protectorate of the French.  Buffeted on two fronts, Mongkut offers Anna a suitable house to make his peace with her. And although it is to her liking, Anna makes plans to depart Siam at the earliest possible date. Appealing to her better angels, the Kralahome confides in Anna that the King’s toehold on maintaining his sovereignty is slipping away as Imperial European forces have begun to encroach upon the territories surrounding his tiny nation. She must stay, if not to satisfy Mongkut, a very complex man who needs – though will not ask for – her counsel and advice; then, most assuredly, for the sake of the nation’s preservation.

Fascinated by the Bible, Mongkut engages Anna in scholarly debates. Returning from one of these conferences, Anna discovers L'Ore (Hazel Shon), a chained slave with a baby, who belongs to Lady Tuptim; Mongkut’s newly favored concubine. Bitter over what she regards as her ‘imprisonment’ within the palace walls, Tuptim refuses to allow L'Ore’s husband to pay for her bond. Curious, Crown Prince Chulalongkorn questions Anna about L’Ore’s freedom, as does Lady Thiang, who is exclusively concerned for her son’s welfare as the future king. To both, Anna is unresponsive, informing Mongkut that the only clear way to see his nation through is to abolish this outmoded form of indentured servitude as, presently, American President Abraham Lincoln is diligently working to end slavery in America with the Civil War. Mongkut writes Lincoln a letter, offering him a pair of elephants he may wish to use as beasts of burden to help win the war. With the greatest of diplomacy, Lincoln turns down this generous offer, as elephants would likely not do well in America’s climate. Later, Tuptim reveals to Anna a jeweled glass pomegranate the King bequeathed her in trade for freeing L’Ore, but suddenly realizes Anna likely influenced Mongkut’s decision to press the matter.

Eager to show the European factions Siam is a civilized nation, capably managed under his rule, Mongkut engages Anna to dress some of his prettiest wives in the latest European fashion and to provide English-style decor and utensils for a planned state dinner at which time he will entertain representatives from England, France and the United States. The fate of his future sovereignty at stake, with only a few minor misfires, Mongkut manages to dazzle his guests with his forthright diplomacy and exceptional grasp on western culture. The party marks Siam’s first ‘east meets west’ gathering, and is a great success at convincing its foreign attendees that Mongkut’s vision for Siam is both progressive, and yet, steeped in a rich and vibrant, century’s old tradition. After the guests have departed, Mongkut and Anna learn Tuptim has attempted escape; apprehended in a Buddhist temple, disguised as a young man. Put on trial, Tuptim confesses she went to the monastery as a novice, but partly to study under Phra Palat (Neyle Morrow) her former lover. Although the King is satisfied Palat knew nothing of her intentions, his dignity at stake has forced him into an impossible situation. Mongkut therefore orders Tuptim and Palat to be burned at the stake. Against Anna’s strenuous objections, the public execution is carried out.  

Recognizing there are some barbaric customs she will never be able to change Anna makes ready to leave Siam at once. The royal children and wives are deeply upset by her decision; all except Lady Thiang, who is instead very disappointed. Relaying the history of her own life within the palace, Lady Thiang confers how her son, the crown prince, may grow to share in such lack of empathy, if Anna abandons his education prematurely. Fate intervenes. Louis is killed in a riding accident and a heartsore Anna elects to become a sort of surrogate to the young prince. The Kralahome arrives with Mongkut’s proclamation, granting Louis full royal funeral honors; something of an apology for Tuptim’s fate. However, when the King implores Anna to continue in her secretarial duties, she sides with the school instead. Years pass. The British open a consulate in 1865, followed by the French in 1867, and the US in 1870. The Prince ripens into a compassionate successor to the throne and Anna is summoned to the aged Mongkut’s bedside. Gravely ill, the King confides she has always spoken truth to him and was, in fact, the best influence on his royal household. Expressing his deep gratitude, the King dies. The Kralahome implores Anna to remain and counsel the prince in the ways of diplomacy. After Chulalongkorn is crowned, he immediately abolishes the practice of prostration before the King.

Anna and the King of Siam is an optimistically skewed account of what went on in the court of King Mongkut. Indeed, only a thumbnail of truth has survived history’s translation to the silver screen. An early feminist, the real Anna Leonowens’ authorship was biased towards the plight of the subjugated Siamese women, thematically, a subplot carried over to the film. After her memoirs proved highly lucrative, Leonowens published something of a sequel, Romance of the Harem (1873) further to muddy the waters with regards to Tuptim, the account based largely on rumors of palace intrigue. Given the total manipulation of the facts, director, John Cromwell does his level best to ensure a certain air of dignity to what are essentially cardboard caricatures cleaved from pure ‘movie-land’ lore, utterly lacking in any dimensional understanding of the facts. The off-balance, marred by Leonowens’ imperialist perspective, has reduced King Mongkut to a self-parody, further complicated by the studio’s insistence to cast a ‘westerner’ in the part. Rex Harrison acquits himself rather nicely of this material, substituting his own considerable charisma in lieu of authenticity. Dunne’s delicious, and occasionally sobering portrait of Leonowens is likely something the real Anna would have been proud to claim for her own, as Dunne calls out the specters of oppression with a firm, but outstretched hand of tolerance. In the end, Anna and the King of Siam is a lyrically illustrated fable. The subsequent Rodgers and Hammerstein adaptation adds all those gorgeous and memorable songs to the mix, but retains this picture’s fanciful verve for exoticism, made even more lushly romantic in Andy Tennant’s 1999 opus magnum; though, at least, Tennant’s movie cast a real Asian – Hong Kong-born, Chow Yun-Fat as Mongkut.

Fox Home Video’s long-defunct ‘studio classics’ DVD franchise currently remains the only home video release of Anna and the King of Siam. Aside: isn’t it time both this movie, as well as Tennant’s 1999 reboot made their way to 1080p Blu-ray?!? This DVD transfer is fairly impressive. Gray scale tonality is superbly rendered and contrast is bang on gorgeous. A light smattering of film grain, looking very indigenous to its source, augments a very clean and refined image. Clearly, Fox has applied some major restoration efforts on this deep catalog release. While a light speckling of dirt and scratches persists, there are no egregious oversights here, and no digital anomalies to distract either. The 1.0 Dolby Digital mono accurately reproduces the old Westrex recording with no hiss or pop Extras are limited to an audio commentary and A&E Biography Special on the real Anna Leonowens. Bottom line: Anna and the King of Siam is a free-flowing, highly fictionalized account of the court of King Mongkut and the influence exerted by that seemingly fair-minded female who descended as a fairy godmother, down from the heavens of European refinement, to impact the future of a nation. Take what you see here with a very heavy grain of salt. But enjoy it nonetheless, as it remains a spectacular entertainment!  

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

2