brilliant actors, brilliant editing

if their story seems completely bonkers, almost like a feverish work of fiction, you ain't heard nothing yet.

It is an exhilarating, distressing, funny and profound film, with one of the more memorable film scores in years,

It's simply great fun, a winsome film and an occasionally over-the-top luxury fantasy that never flags.

I dare anyone knowledgeable in opera or musical theater history to watch this film and find even a scintilla of greatness carried over from the original score and various stage productions. The only principal who can lay claim to a real singing voice is Julia Migenes, and though top-billed among the female performers, she really doesn't have much to do, and what she does makes very little impression; you would not ever know that she was one of the world's leading opera stars for about a quarter-century. The rest is uncompromisingly bleak and shoddy looking, with nothing even good, let alone great, emerging from it. Raul Julia was sometimes a great stage actor and an occasionally effective film one, but he is devoid of anything like the charisma Macheath should exhibit in this iconic role. Julie Walters is okay, but looks like a refugee from Mrs. Lovett's pie shop in SWEENEY TODD. Harris is doing Harris, which early on was very interesting, but led into a kind of sameness in line delivery in his later films that was also mirrored by other great talents gone sour with age and boredom - say late Bette Davis and Ray Milland. Altogether a depressing experience, and I must admit that until I saw this film on a list recently, I had no idea it even existed. As to why it is has not been available on DVD, I can only say I'm not surprised.

O.K. Folks, it ain't Brecht, but - the emperor doesn't have any clothes - the original Three Penny Opera is not a work that translates well from the Weimar Republic to our own era. i.e., I'm not so sure authenticity is that important. The sets are overbuilt, there is much too much Lionel Bart feel, but Julia is actually excellent, Mignenes is better yet, and Roger Daltrey's interpolations are kinda fun. Roger Ebert has the negatives right - there is a relentlessly `over-the-top' feel to the whole movie - but the Washington Post reviewer is nonetheless closer. It is quite an enjoyable movie despite the flaws. As to what can go wrong with filming this stage play, take a look at Pabst's 1930 version for a first-class mishmash.

Out of the three film versions of this Brecht classic this is by far the best. No, its not perfect. First it uses the watered down Blitztien translation on most songs and there is too much dancing in the film.The main problem with the film is that the editor hacked it up. I have the soundtrack and no less than 6 songs were omitted after filming, including "What Keeps Mankind Alive", the theme of the play! What we are left with though is well done, Raul Julia excels as Mackie, charming, smooth and dangerous and with a great singing voice. Richard Harris is a delight as J.J. Peacham, king of the beggars and is well matched by Julie Walters as his wife. Bill Nighy makes a wonderful;ly confused Tiger Brown and the Jealousy duet performed by Rachel Robertson and Erin Donovan is the musical high point. Not great but a big improvement over the German film and the dull 1960 film with Curt Jergens.

The fact that most of the budget for this presumably went on the heavy-duty cast list shouldn't have mattered if it had been staged with flair and imagination and some sympathy for the original's satirical intent. Instead we get risibly bad song and dance sequences featuring picturesque beggars and whores, and the final alienation is accomplished by pulling back to reveal the action has taken place on a music-hall stage, appropriately enough for a production that's more Lionel 'Oliver' Blair than Brecht. The acting talent is shamefully misused: Migenes and Walters are good but don't have to try very hard: Migenes at least has a great voice and some feel for the material. Julia looks perfect as Mack, but struggles with the character, straitjacketed by a fake plummy accent. Harris's Peachum is embarrassingly mannered and Polly is atrocious. The adaptations of lyrics, script and music are often awkward: it was a bad move to base the film on Marc Blitzstein's bowdlerised Broadway version, but at least his words were singable, unlike most of what's been interpolated in gestures of faithfulness. And the attempt at overcoming the low budget by filming at claustrophobic angles on mist-shrouded sets lit in garish blues and oranges as if by some bargain-basement Vittorio Storaro fails utterly -- the film just looks cheap, shoddy and thoughtlessly made. Disgraceful.