Franz Lehar's "The Merry Widow," which is certainly the most familiar and durable of all the so-called Viennese operettas that celebrated Continental high life and gaiety at the century's turn, has been mounted in a production that is probably the most colorful and exquisite it has ever had in the new M-G-M version of it that came to Loew's State yesterday. And a new actor named Fernando Lamas is brought forth in this sumptuous display as one of the niftiest Count Danilos that has ever given the widow a merry whirl.
This paramount notice of production and of the gentleman who plays the role of the handsome Marshovian suitor to the wealthy widow in disguise is not in the least intended to slight the other merits of the film, including some spirited singing and dancing to the lyrical old Lehar tunes. Nor is it remotely calculated to overlook the magnificence, at least, of a beautifully got-up Lana Turner in the romantic title role.
But the brilliance in Technicolor of the palaces, grand hotels and a replica of Maxim's in Paris that the craftsmen at Metro have contrived is something—we say this in wonder—to take your breath away, and the richness of the costumes and the staging of dance and choral groups will deal the knockout blow. No "Widow" in our recollection—and we've seen quite a few on stage and screen, including the memorable Ernst Lubitsch version—has been turned out as this one is.
What's more, Mr. Lamas' performance of the dashing and lady-killing count is sufficiently suave and commanding to convince one that maybe he is. Appropriately tall, dark and handsome, this gent from the Argentine—at least, that's the origin they give him—is something for the ladies to see. And he (or his synchronized voice ghost) has a battery of vocal chords that send out delightful virbations when—as happens quite often—he sings. This and the general production give an elegance and grace to such rich airs as "Vilia," "I'm Going to Maxim's," "Night" and the lyrical "Girls, Girls, Girls," and Mr. Lamas, in duet with Miss Turner (or with her synchronized voice ghost, too), makes something very pleasing and nostalgic of the familiar title song.
As for Miss Turner's performance, it is adequate to the role, Sonya Levien and William Ludwig have carefully rewritten for her, which is that of a beautiful American lady, widow of an ex-Marshovian millionaire, who returns to the natal country of her husband and there meets the handsome count. Considerate of Miss Turner's talents, they have only called upon her to do such things as be interested, haughty and wear superb costumes, including an assortment of lacy step-ins that generously reveal her legs. And the consequence is that the action in which she appears is not as brittle and crisp as it might be, but Director Curtis Bernhardt gives it an air of dignified elegance, at least.
As for the rest of the actors—Richard Haydn, as a nasal diplomat; Una Merkel, as a twittery lady's servant; Thomas Gomez, as a swarth, bull-headed king, and John Abbott, as a bleary-eyed ambassador—he gets amusing performances from them, and the dancers and the choruses are handled with dash and verve by Jack Cole.
You'll look far to see anything more lusty and gusty in this line than the swish of the can-can dancers, in brilliant black and red, at Maxim's—or anything more handsome and graceful, with the nice play of lights and shades, than the pink, white and gold waltzing couples in the final number.
"The Merry Widow" never had it so good.

THE MERRY WIDOW, screen play by Sonya Levien and William Ludwig, based on the operetta by Franz Lehar, Victor Leon and Leo Stein; directed by Curtis Bernhardt; produced by Joe Pasternak for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. At Loew's State.
Crystal Radek . . . . . Lana Turner
Count Danilo . . . . . Fernando Lamas
Kitty Riley . . . . . Una Merkel
Baron Popoff . . . . . Richard Haydn
King of Marshovia . . . . . Thomas Gomez
Marshovian Ambassador . . . . . John Abbott
Police Sergeant . . . . . Marcel Dalio
Nitki . . . . . King Donovan
Marquis de Crillo . . . . . Robert Coote
Gypsy Girl . . . . . Sujata
Marcella . . . . . Lisa Ferraday
Kunjany . . . . . Shepherd Menken
Major Domo . . . . . Ludwig Stossel

BOSLEY CROWTHER New York Times 25 September 1952

May, 2010.
"Bloody Moon over Paradise"

Short shorts: No07
Shades: Primoptic
Skin: Signature
hair: UW
Body Hair: EDDEsigns*

* lighter and less densier version would be appreciated. Blond guys' skin, hair and even bodyhair is a b*tch to find something at least acceptable. Skin creators are funny, does any of those ever though about blond EYEBROWS? Dark and thick BLACK eyebrows just makes me laugh.