The Count of Luxembourg was one of Lehár’s
most popular triumphs. It opened at the Theatre an der Wien
on 12 November 1909. The public adored it. It ran for 299 performances
in Vienna and took German theatres by storm. King George V and
Queen Mary attended the London premiere with Lehár himself
conducting. One critic noted that “There is many a number
in The Count of Luxembourg which Sullivan would
not have refused to acknowledge.” “The waltzes (like
‘Tell Me Can This Be Love?’), already familiar to
Londoners from dance arrangements, proved the most appealing
attraction, sweeping Britain into yet another Lehár frenzy”
(Operetta, A Theatrical History by Richard Traubner).
The first London production ran for 345 performances at Daly’s
Theatre. Successes in New York and Paris followed.
This production of The Count of Luxembourg is described
as an ‘operetta film’; however, unlike Arthaus’s
operetta film of Lehár’s Paganini, a good
proportion of which was filmed en plein aire,this
one is studio-bound. This is not such a bad notion considering
how daft the plot is; a touch of realism might only point up
its idiocies and destroy its charm. As is usual in operetta
the story revolves around a series of preposterous notions and
coincidences. The spendthrift Count René of Luxembourg
is strapped for cash and is only too happy to consider any scheme
to refill his pockets. Ageing Prince Basil Basilowitsch is in
love with Parisian opera singer, Angèle Didier. He cannot
marry her because she is not of the same aristocratic class,
so Basil offers René 100,000 francs if he will marry
Angèle thus automatically making her a Countess. René,
then has to leave his bride immediately after the marriage ceremony
and return only after three months have elapsed to divorce Angèle
on the grounds that the marriage has not been consummated. This
then leaves the way clear for Basil to marry Angèle who
is quite happy with the whole idea; she does not believe in
romantic love. To add to all this confusion, the mock wedding
itself is bizarre: bride and groom are not allowed to see each
other. A screen is erected between them and a whole punched
through it so that they can only touch hands to exchange rings.
All this had been arranged by the artist Armand Brissard who
himself is having girlfriend trouble. She, Juliette Vermont,
is a model and dancer and is fed up waiting for Armand to propose
marriage. Needless to say complications follow. Angèle
and René fall in love much to Basil’s annoyance
but all ends happily with the three couples united.
The costumes are gorgeous, lighting and sets attractive and
the acting, for the most part, good. Operatic singers stiffen
the operetta roles. Most of the arias are waltz songs. Hunky
Eberhard Wächter in the title role, rises with aplomb to
its demanding part, the tessitura of which straddles baritone
and tenor registers. Lilian Sukis as Angèle is beautiful
and sophisticated, her golden soprano marvellously controlled
across her range particularly in its high register. Helga Papouschek
pouts sweetly and is a honeyed Juliette. Deep-voiced Erich Kunz
makes a dapper and dashing but dignity-affronted Basil and nearly
steals every scene in which he appears.
An enchanted evening of romance and comedy with some of Lehár’s
loveliest waltz songs delivered by a first class ensemble of
singers.
Ian Lace