Tyrone Power is considered such a fantastic example of an old-fashioned mega-star because his charisma and brash presence on screen was often enough to make viewers forget for a moment just how bad most of his films were. Sure, the better-made swashbucklers he starred in were good fun – The Mark of Zorro is legitimately great, as is The Black Rose. But many of the other films he was commissioned to do simply were… bad.

That case is proven again and again on this Matinee Idol Collection. Never once is Power’s gravitas or presence questioned – it can be said that the guy did as much as he could with the material he was given – but none of these films are really all that good at all. In fact, if Tyrone wasn’t in them, this writer can pretty much guarantee that they would not be likely to see the light of day on DVD.

We start with excellently-titled yet woefully awful Girls’ Dormitory (1936), a film whose two greatest assets are Power (this one was his film debut) and the fact that this was French beauty Simone Simon’s first American film. Basically, this train-wreck of a melodrama centers around Simon’s character – a girls’ school attendee - falling head over heels for her headmaster (Herbert Marshall), much to the chagrin of other students and faculty members. And that’s pretty much all there is to it. No good bitch-prison in-jokes, no campy, over-the-top histrionics. Also, to add insult to injury, Power is on screen for mere moments (he shows up as Simon’s cousin toward the end of the picture).

Love is News (1937) is next, and again, the film is more memorable for its casting choices than its narrative. This was the first of five films Power made with fellow Fox star Loretta Young, and while their chemistry gets the occasional chance to shine in this otherwise totally turgid comedy, most everything else here is decidedly uninteresting. In the movie, Power plays a newspaper man who uses his charms to convince Young, who plays a cantankerous super-rich debutante, to sit down for an interview with him. After a degrading one-on-one session, Young’s society-girl decides to show Power just what it’s like to be in the press’ crosshairs, so she announces that she and Power are newly engaged. This premise is cute enough – I can definitely see its basic themes being ripe for a modern remake. But even with some supporting turns from class-acts like Don Ameche and George Sanders, this attempt at rat-a-tat light comedy never really pops.

Café Metropole (1937) is even worse; we find Power being a patsy exploited by a failing restaurant owner played by Adolphe Menjou. He hires Power’s character to pretend like he’s a Russian dignitary in an attempt to win the favor of a rich-as-Hell American heiress (Loretta Young, again). I’m not exactly sure why Menjou thinks this plan will work in saving his business – the narrative of Café Metropole is beyond confusing. But all I know is that for every one good moment of exchange between Power and Young, we get ten minutes’ worth of absolute balderdash.

As if the Power/Young machine couldn’t sink any lower, this writer found himself groaning with displeasure during Second Honeymoon (1937), an absolutely limp, paper-thin comedy of errors that houses not a single legitimate laugh in it. In the film, Young and Power play a couple who have recently divorced but (as fate would have it) both take vacations to the same place in Miami at the same time (Ah, Hollywood…). I’ll give a thumbs-up to Stu Erwin as Power’s grumpy, ever-depressed valet, but otherwise, this one’s a full-blown stinker.

Daytime Wife (1939) is a slight step in the right direction, even if it doesn’t add up to anything more than a capably-orchestrated hall-of-mirrors. In the picture, Tyrone’s wife (played with pluck by Linda Darnell) becomes so obsessed with the idea that her husband is fooling around with other girls at the office that she decides to go ‘undercover’ to the office and get hired (under an alias, of course). There are antics and examples of tomfoolery to spare, but while it was nice to see Darnell in the romantic leading lady role (Young and Power work excellently together, but a change is always nice), as affable as Daytime Wife could sometimes be, it never came off as being as funny as I felt it could be.

We veer off into misguided territory again with Johnny Apollo (1940). Tyrone Power makes an excellent romantic (and even a great comedic) leading man, but as the villain in Johnny Apollo, he just kind of seems miscast. He plays the son of a greedy business embezzler (played with staunch pride by Edward Arnold), who ends up going to prison only to find himself depending on Power’s character to bail him out. Power turns to the seedy world of crime to drum up the dough, and gets sucked into that world. Dorothy Lamour as the hot little number Power falls for on his downward spiral is fantastic, but pretty much everything else here is totally unbelievable.

Power stays in dark territory with This Above All (1942), a war-themed film about a simple British soldier (Tyrone) who falls for a fancy upper-class debutante-turned Women’s Auxiliary Air Force fighter (Joan Fontaine). The film has a fantastic look to it – the film is directed by acclaimed old-school helmer Anatole Litvak – but again, Power in super-serious mode doesn’t really appeal to this writer’s sensibilities. I’m a big Joan Fontaine fan, so that aspect of the film is great, but while it’s not as defiantly unbelievable as Johnny Apollo, this one nevertheless still doesn’t hold its own.

Our star heads back to the land of laughs again with The Luck of the Irish (1948), a goofy romp about a reporter named Stephen Fitzgerald (Power) who comes across a leprechaun in the Irish woods (!). This little fella (Cecil Kellaway) shows Tyrone a small village and, more importantly, a beautiful maiden (Anne Baxter). But when Stephen returns to the Big Apple – and the high-profile life (and fiancée) he left there – the ‘magic’ of the leprechaun starts coming to fruition: it turns out the lil’ guy and Anne Baxter’s character are in the city, to boot. As Power goes through the gauntlet of choosing the high-fallutin’ NYC life or the simple ways of Ireland, he gets a chance to really return to his roots as a solid comedic presence. The movie gets a little silly (gee, really?), but for the most part, it’s a hoot.

Far less enjoyable is That Wonderful Urge (1948), a lifeless film that is really nothing more than a retooling of Love is News (the one included on this collection). Gene Tierney plays the heiress in this one (Power still plays the reporter), and though it’s wild to see the actress attempt such wide comedy (I’m so used to her in dark film noir pictures!), neither she nor Power really shine here. Stick with Love is News.

This Matinee Idol collection ends on an almost hallucinogenic note with I’ll Never Forget You (1951). In this one, not only does Power play a scientist who goes back in time to the 1800s only to fall in love with his cousin (played by Ann Blyth) – which is already a trip considering the relatively straight-forward sense of the actor’s filmography. But all segments of the film that take place in the 1800s are in Technicolor while the rest is in black and white. It’s interesting – and really quite bizarre (I suppose The Wizard of Oz shouldn’t be the only one able to do both Technicolor and b/w, but in this particular case, it is full-tilt weird). It’s not much of a movie otherwise, but trippy enough to be worth a viewing.

As should now be evident, there isn’t anything of real note on this collection. I ended up having far better thoughts about Love is News after watching its stillborn remake (That Wonderful Urge), but other than that, this Tyrone Power Matinee Idol Collection is far more notable for what isn’t here than what is. Fans will eat it up, but I’d definitely recommend newbies starting with one of Tyrone’s swashbuckling epics to really get a sense of what the guy was capable of doing.

The Video: How Does The Disc Look?

Well, you can’t accuse Fox of false advertising here – before three of the ten films here, we get this text preface: “We have brought this film to DVD using the best surviving source material available.” Like Criterion’s Eclipse arm, Fox had the idea that it was better to get these films out as they were rather than hold them back in lieu of better elements which might not exist.

While this stance is laudable, these films’ video transfers are not particularly strong (even by Eclipse standards!). Dirt and grime are the biggest problems – while it looks as though these films have been cleaned up, they definitely haven’t been pristinely restored. And flickering/strobing is an almost constant nuisance. But black levels are relatively strong – moreso in the newer films here than the older ones – and even with so many films squished onto a relatively small number of DVDs, there are no distracting displays of compression artifacting to mention.

The occasional Technicolor sequences here, though - are disappointingly smeared. A couple reels of I’ll Never Forget You utilized the process, but the results are less than stellar given the elements that have survived and been utilized for these transfers.

The Audio: How Does The Disc Sound?

The Dolby Digital mono sound mixes on all the films here are more straightforward and nowhere near as disappointing as this set’s visual palette. There is hiss, of course, and the good ol’ snap, crackle and pop of optical recordings infiltrates everything here from dialogue to music to sound effects. But I must say that I’ve definitely heard worse mono mixes. Not too bad considering what Fox had to work with.

English, French and Spanish subtitles are included, as are English Closed Captions.

Supplements: What Goodies Are There?

Each disc here comes with a stills gallery, and while not all the films are represented, there are indeed a handful of trailers. Other than that, we get are three featurettes: Tyrone Power: Prince of Fox is a nice, comprehensive look at the actor’s tenure at the studio, Ty and Loretta: Sweethearts of the Silver Screen is a self-explanatory investigation of Power’s and Young’s collaborations, Jayne Meadows Remembers is an eight-minute interview with the actress, and My Dad, Tyrone Power is a biographical look at the man, featuring extensive thoughts from his real-life children.

Café Metropole also houses a few deleted scenes, and for those interested in a truly bizarre experience, The Luck of the Irish houses both its standard black-and-white version and a version in which all Irish scenes are green-tinted. It’s fun for a couple minutes, but gets a little distracting after that.

Exclusive DVD-ROM Features: What happens when you pop the disc into your PC?

There are no DVD-ROM features on this DVD.

Final Thoughts

Specifically tailor-made for Tyrone Power fans and Tyrone Power fans only, this Matinee Idol Collection doesn’t really add up to much. There are a couple solid bonus features – the Prince of Fox featurette is a nice Cliffs Notes version of the guy’s tenure there. But audio and video quality aren’t top-notch, and none of the films here are truly worthy of the star’s reputation. For super-fans only.