Monday, August 23, 2010

Happy Birthday, Gene Kelly!














He was a perfectionist; he was an artist. He worked as hard as he could - and more. There were rehearsals into the wee hours of the morning, but to watch him is to know that, to him, it was all worth it. It's obvious while watching him perform that he loved his work, and he took great joy in dancing for the masses - and, probably more importantly, for himself.














Friday, July 16, 2010

Swing Time (1936)

Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers made ten movies together: their two most successful and enduring pictures are Top Hat (1935) and Swing Time. I've never been able to decide which one I think is the better of the two. Maybe it's just me. Rogers, however, had no such problem. In her autobiography, she said that Swing Time was her favorite of all the films that she made with Astaire. Although, my personal favorite happens to be Shall We Dance, it's easy for me to see why she felt that way.

Astaire is at his most charming, and Rogers is simply adorable (in my opinion, this is one of her best performances). Together they are the ideal screen couple for a romantic comedy (which also happens to be an excellent musical). What other screen team could better convey the shyness, frustration and delight that come with blossoming love? I can't think of any.

In addition to featuring delightful performances by not only Astaire and Rogers, but also the likes of Helen Broderick and Victor Moore, Swing Time has some of Astaire and Rogers' best duets. On of the wonderful things about these two is that they don't stop acting even when they're dancing. Or maybe I should say, especially when they're dancing. Every step and every movement is filled with emotion. But I guess I'm just going over old news, aren't I? Still, it's all true, and if you haven't seen Swing Time, you should. It's one of Astaire and Rogers' three absolutely essential musicals.*

This review has also been posted at A Noodle in a Haystack.

*The other two are The Gay Divorcee (1934) and Top Hat. While I wouldn't want to be without any of their ten films, these three are the ones that I consider most essential.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Let's Say it With Firecrackers!

It wouldn't be a celebration of Independence Day (even if it is late) without this Fred Astaire number. Holiday Inn is one of those movies that I've been watching all my life. I honestly have no idea when I first saw it - it's always been a part of my movie-viewing life. I absolutely love this dance (part of the reason is probably because it blends two things that I love: dancing and fireworks). Fred is beyond amazing, cool and wonderful, and t's yet another example of why I wish I could tap dance.

The embedding option has been disabled, but if you just click on this link, it'll take you to a video of the number. Enjoy and happy late 4th of July!

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Sunday, May 23, 2010

The Band Wagon (1953)

For some reason or another, I always seem to think of both Astaire and Kelly's film careers as ending with the 1950's. It's odd, I know, especially considering that both were still making films well into the '70s and beyond. I think my unconscious assumption is based on two things, a) their best known movies are made pre-1960, and b) the sort of movies that they made so well and that made them so famous were not being made anymore after the '50s - even in that era, you can see the gears changing. Musicals - at least, the sort that Astaire and Kelly were used to making - were on their way out.

Nevertheless, before the '50s came to a close, both men gave us a few more musical gems. One of those musicals is widely considered to be the best ever made, Singin' in the Rain. Gene Kelly made history with the film that both pokes fun at and fondly remembers the transition from silents to talkies that took place in the '20s. Singin' in the Rain laughs at and pays homage to motion pictures and the changes it has undergone. Fred Astaire's musical The Band Wagon, made a year later (and also featuring Cyd Charisse), does the same thing to Broadway.

In an almost autobiographical turn (that it seems everyone - including myself - feels compelled to note), Fred Astaire plays a fading film star whose biggest successes were released in the '30s. One of the fun things about The Band Wagon is that it doesn't try to hide the fact that it closely mirrors the star's life: that fact is actually pointed out to the audience, before the film has been running even five minutes, when one of his previous successes is mentioned. The name of that movie is an unabashed parody of the title that shot Astaire and Rogers to stardom in 1933: it's called, "Swinging Down to Panama." Makes me smile every time.

Astaire's character, Tony Hunter is washed up. Even he thinks so. The audience is told so in those same first five minutes I just mentioned when props and costumes that he wore in movies such as "Swinging Down to Panama" are being auctioned off, but no one is bidding - not even when the starting bid is named as five cents(!).

Tony, hoping to revive his career, goes to New York to be in a new musical that his friends, Lester and Lily Marton (Oscar Levant and Nanette Fabray), have written for him. They've written a lighthearted show with lots of comedy and fun musical numbers, however the producer/director they've found to do the show, Jeffrey Cordova (Jack Buchanan), gets the idea that the show should be a modern, musical version of Faust. Suddenly the script has to be completely overhauled and ready in a few weeks. When he first hears what Jeff envisions for the show, Tony feels uncomfortable, a feeling that only grows when he finds out that his leading lady is a young, incredibly gifted ballerina, Gabrielle Gerard (Cyd Charisse).

Comedy ensues when Tony's insecurity about being a "relic" and dancing with a younger woman (who he considers too tall for him), and Gaby's feeling that Tony doesn't appreciate her talent or want her in the show cause a huge misunderstanding that leads to immediate animosity that lasts until Tony and Gaby sort things out and learn to dance together. Loads of fun.

The Band Wagon is one of my favorite '50s musicals for so many reasons: Vincente Minnelli's wonderful direction (his films always have the best colors!), the happy tunes that will stick in your head whether you want them to or not (although why you wouldn't is beyond me), and the witty script are just some of the reasons. One of the most important reasons I love this film, though, is the cast.

Can you say, "dream team"? Sometimes in a movie there are one or two performers that I don't think fit and I wish for someone else to replace them. I wouldn't change a single casting decision as far as The Band Wagon is concerned.

First, there is Astaire. Just as he wouldn't have been right as Don Lockwood, Kelly wouldn't have been right for The Band Wagon. Don't try to convince me otherwise. He's perfect in the role of Tony Hunter. He's frustrated and - well, downright cranky at times - but he's still as charming and likable as ever.

When I first saw The Band Wagon, I wasn't sure if I liked how Astaire and Charisse looked as a dancing couple. Now (after several viewings) I'm convinced that she was the perfect choice for this movie. Okay, honestly I wouldn't complain if Vera-Ellen had been brought in to play Gaby, but then, I never complain about Vera-Ellen. Back to Charisse. I haven't seen her do a whole lot of out-and-out comedy, but her performance in this one film is enough to convince me that she had what it takes.

Astaire and Charisse make great partners for each other. Because of their different styles and the fact that they were roughly the same height, it changes how they dance. Astaire's style had to change a little to suit his partner, just as her style had to change a bit to suit him. The combination of their two styles, as well as the choreography that makes their similar heights less noticeable, is, simply put, elegant. If you don't believe me, watch them in the "Dancing in the Dark" number. If you've already seen it, I'm preaching to the choir.

Oscar Levant. Need I say more?

I think Buchanan adds a lot to the movie, too. For some reason, his participation has always struck me as very distinctive. He brings something very unique to the film, and if he didn't work so well with the rest of the cast, I'd be tempted to say that he seems out of place. He's perfect for the role. But he's... distinctive. I can't explain it. I hope you understand what I mean.

And I've saved my favorite for the last. Is it just me, or does Nanette Fabray manage to shine more than anyone else in the cast yet still keep from completely stealing the show? In The Band Wagon, she's a supporting player, and she does a great job, along with Levant and Buchanan, supporting the two leads. But she doesn't blend into the background. Okay, no one does in this movie, but somehow it's a little different with Fabray. Seeing her in this movie really makes me wish that she had been in more musicals - or movies, period. I would love to see her as a leading lady in some lighthearted '40s comedies and/or musicals.

Put all these talented performers that I've mentioned (plus a few others) together, and you've got one mighty good show!

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Thursday, May 13, 2010

"Up Till This Minute, My Only Claim to Fame is That You Were Once My Girl"

In the early 1940's, Judy Garland was at the top of her game, and Gene Kelly was rising fast. Fresh off the Broadway stage and his success in Pal Joey, Kelly was brought to Hollywood for his first picture by David O. Selznick. This sort of thing wasn't unusual in those days. It was quite common for the film industry to search for stars on the stage. What is unusual is that, in his very first film, Kelly played opposite Judy Garland, who was enjoying major box-office success at the time.

For Me & My Gal is an MGM movie, produced by the legendary Arthur Freed unit. It's the story of two Vaudeville hoofers (played by Kelly and Garland) from the days leading up to World War I to the return of "the boys" after Armistice. In many ways, For Me & My Gal is a propaganda film, like so many others that were being released at that period in Hollywood history. In other ways, it's a distinctive musical-comedy-drama that has aged very well.

Judy Garland's performance as Jo Hayden is the one that made me a true fan. It was her first role in which she was allowed to play a young woman her own age and also to spread her wings and exercise her dramatic abilities. It wasn't uncommon for Judy to portray women who were in love alone, but, for my money at least, this film sports her most compelling performance in such a role.

There is a scene about midway through For Me & My Gal, when Jo receives news that her brother has been killed overseas and realizes that the man she loves, Harry Palmer (Kelly), has deliberately tried to evade the draft. I think it was a stroke of brilliance to put these two events into the same scene: Jo's beloved brother died in the service of his country and Harry has injured himself in order to put off the draft and fulfill his own dream of playing the Palace Theater. Judy is marvelous as thoughts and emotions wash over her: grief, horror, resentment. You wouldn't know that this was her first mature role. As always, Judy is a pro.

Jo goes through a lot during the movie. She loses her brother; she falls in love with a man who continually breaks her heart. Then everything seems to be coming together: she and Harry are finally going to play the Palace Theater (something they've been working for and dreaming of since they first became a team); he's fallen in love with her, too, and they plan to marry after opening night at the Palace.

But tragedy strikes. Harry is drafted before their engagement at the Palace begins. Desperate to play the Theater and marry Jo after the show, as they'd been planning for so long, he deliberately smashes his hand by slamming the lid of his trunk down on it. Blinded by his own desires and frustration, he reasons that the injury will keep him out of the War long enough for them to fulfill their dream. Poor Harry. Not only is he acting selfishly, his timing is rotten.

On the same day that he is temporarily exempted from the draft because of his injury, Jo receives the telegram informing her that her brother, Danny (Richard Quine), is dead. When he arrives at her hotel room, she's passed from the first moments of shock and into tears. It's as he is trying to comfort her that she first sees his hand and comes to the only natural conclusion. "It won't stop us from playing at the Palace," he tells her, but she's beyond caring about such things.

As for Harry, he changes a great deal during the course of the film. It's not a dramatic change with one great turning point, but here and there you can see him growing from the egotistical heel to a wiser, much more subdued man. Kelly was a natural for roles like this, and he played it several times in various ways. Think of Joe Brady in Anchors Aweigh and Eddie O'Brien in Take Me Out to the Ball Game: cads who are changed by love and circumstances. For Me & My Gal features one the most marked changes.

First, there is his confession to Jo, early in the film, after he tried to "play her for a sap," failed, and realized what a sweet and true girl she really is, causing him to feel like the heel that he is. Then, later, he is given the chance to move up in the show business world, but he has seconds thoughts about taking advantage of the opportunity when he learns that he would have to leave Jo behind. The Harry Palmer who stepped of the train at the beginning of the movie wouldn't have given her a second thought, but this Harry is trying to rationalize the idea of - well, essentially, dropping Jo like a hot potato - and jumping into a more prestigious, already well-established act.

He ends up dropping the idea and not Jo, but don't be fooled into thinking that his transformation is complete. He's still very imperfect. But there's hope for him, yet. And then everything blows up in his face.

Rejected by Jo because of his selfishness and cowardice, he tries in vain to join the Armed Forces, as though his willing enlistment would somehow prove that he isn't a coward, but his new disability causes him to be turned away time and again. His injury turns out not to be temporary, as he had thought: when the trunk lid slammed down on his hand, the tendons were severed. His hand is, for all intensive purposes, useless.

Eventually, he joins the USO and goes overseas to entertain the troops. It's the only way he can serve. While in Europe, he redeems himself by risking his life to tell a caravan of ambulances to turn back because the area is being abandoned and to try and get through would be suicide.

The idea of ending the film with Kelly, Garland, and George Murphy singing and dancing to a reprise of the title tune was toyed with but eventually abandoned in favor of a more sober but still uplifting ending, in which Jo and Harry are reunited. I think this was a wise move. A song and dance number, although very common in musicals, would have been too happy-go-lucky-everything-is-fine-again. The final cut of For Me & My Gal contains a more bittersweet ending that seems to say, "It's been hard, but we're together again. It's still going to be hard, but we'll be okay. All is forgiven. Time to make a new start.''

Kelly hadn't reached his peak as far as the film industry was concerned. He had yet to dazzle audiences with his duet with himself in Cover Girl and with the "American in Paris Ballet" in An American in Paris. But talk about making a dramatic entrance!

In his very first film, he found one of his best partners. Even Astaire had to wait till his second film to find Rogers. Judy and Gene both had very distinctive singing voices that rarely worked so well with anyone else as they did with each other. Think of when they are singing the title tune: it's easy to distinguish both voices if you think about it, but if you just relax, they blend nicely. Gene and Judy were also good at letting the other step into the spotlight: one would be singing melody while the other did harmony, and then they would switch. They complimented each other - and not just with their singing but also with their acting and dancing.

Gene Kelly and Judy Garland would go on to make two other films together, The Pirate and Summer Stock. When watching them onscreen, there's no denying that they enjoyed working together and that they were a well-matched pair. They could play off each other. Sometimes one would tone down their performance a bit and let the other take the spotlight. They were a good team onscreen, and it's nice to remember that they were good friends offscreen, too.

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