"Rose Marie" in the movies has two glorious voices ringing back and forth to one another in the mountains and over the lakes of Canada. It has deepchested Nelson Eddy singing his love to Jeanette McDonald, and Jeanette responding, somewhat coyly, but with all her heart. This is ample recommendation for any eighty minutes' entertainment, and it should send you packing off for a bit of musical ecstasy. For to the untrained ear at least, both of their throats sound golden, and the recording, equally flawless.

But after this great concession, there is little else that one can say for the cinematic "Rose Marie." "Naughty Marietta" prepared one for seeing Nelson act quite brusquely toward his lady, but this picture sees him almost morose. Nelson is meant to be a Canadian Royal Mounted Policeman. And it is just a little jarring to see the Mountie in a fervent embrace with Jeanette on the mountainside, and then, the very next shot, to see him tearing from her arms her criminal brother, with no visible pangs of remorse. Duty, and all that, of course-but it really should have looked a little more painful.

And then they've done some curious things to the good old mellow plot. For one thing, the craze for tracing the life cycle of an opera singer has caught this picture, and Jeanette, before and after wandering about the great Canadian woods, does such things as French operatic versions of "Romeo and Juliet." There are also such incidents as the surprise appearance of large crowds to applaud private performances, and gum-chewing piano pounders telling outraged song birds to get hot, Toots, and compete with ladies who sing with their hips. These devices are strongly reminiscent of a young woman named Grace Moore, and it seems a shame that they should appear in a story with so great pportunities for pleasing freshness.