Triple Feature Feature
Musicals. I can't help it; I love 'em. Particularly those from the golden age of Hollywood. They're often so incredibly absurd in terms of plot, character, and anything else that usually makes for good storytelling, but once they start singing and dancing... man, it doesn't even matter. Listening to those voices soar and watching those feet tap out a crazy rhythm makes me forget about all the shaky character and story things and just revel in the artistry.
This month, I've picked three musicals starring some of the best male dancers the screen has ever seen. Though, if I were being perfectly honest, there are two tiers here. When you think of men dancing in movies, you think, really, of just two people: Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly. If you know something about movie musicals, you'll probably be able to list other male dancers, but none are quite as sublime as either of those. Of these other dancers, however, I do have a personal favorite, in the form of Donald O'Connor, so he's rounding out the list.
So, join me, where Anything Goes during Summer Stock, on The Band Wagon! (And I promise no more labored sentences full of movie titles again. *g*)
Anything Goes
(Directed by Robert Lewis. Starring Bing Crosby, Donald O'Connor, Mitzi Gaynor, and Jeanmaire.)
Some of you may be familiar with Anything Goes because it is a popular musical, written by Cole Porter, for smaller community groups to perform. If this is the case, well, awesome; you'll recognize a number of the songs. (Actually, even if you don't know the original Broadway musical, you'll still probably recognize some of the songs; Cole Porter is just that good.) However, except for some songs and the generic setting of a cruise ship crossing the Atlantic Ocean, there's really little connection between the Broadway show and this movie.
So, this version of Anything Goes is the story of Bill Benson (Bing Crosby1), a famous Broadway star, and Ted Adams (Donald O'Connor), a hugely popular television star, who are about to star in a show together, only they haven't cast a leading lady yet. On vacation in Europe, Bill signs a young American named Patsy Blair (Mitzi Gaynor) for the role, while Ted signs French dancer Gaby Duval (Jeanmaire) for the same role. Obviously, they can't have two ladies for the same role, but neither wants to give up his find. Of course, when each falls in love with the other's find, it gets even more complicated. Several musical numbers and a sub-plot or two later, the story ends happily for all.
1Fun fact: Bing Crosby was in the 1930s' version of Anything Goes, also playing the male lead. Totally different plot and all, but it's still kind of fun, right?
Overall, Anything Goes isn't going to bowl you over with its greatness, but it's a solid musical. A lot of it feels like variations on earlier, more successful material. This movie gives you its own version of an Astaire/Crosby duet, a Bob Fosse modern number, witty banter and a beautiful dance from White Christmas, and a Crosby/Hope comedy and music sketch. For those who have seen a lot of different movie musicals, this dulls the movie's luster a bit; for those with little classic musical experience, though, there's nothing to fear because, for the most part, this movie's versions of classic musical moments work just as well as the originals.
First, the not-so-good. Jeanmaire was an accomplished ballet dancer who had appeared in Danny Kaye's Hans Christian Andersen. I feel like she was... not exactly miscast here, but the role certainly didn't show off her strengths well. Her Gaby is a bit heavy on the stereotypical "French woman and her womanly wiles" vibe, and I don't think the dances showed her off very well, though they were staged by Roland Petit (her husband and long-time choreographer).
Her first number is "I Get a Kick out of You," which feels like it's trying too hard to be a Bob Fosse number. Keeping in mind that Fosse-esque dances aren't really my favorite style, it's still really apparent when one is watching a real Fosse dance versus an attempt at a Fosse dance. There's a distinct difference, and it's not a difference in the favor of the attempt. Jeanmaire is shown off to better effect in her dream ballet number, but it's not anything that really adds to the rather flimsy overall story anyway, so I have to work really hard to pay attention to that part. It also doesn't help that it's not exactly my style. Still, Jeanmaire is charming when the scenes allow, so it's really just a bad fit.
Now, the pretty good. Bing Crosby is his usual, delightful self in this movie. His voice — particularly his singing voice — seemed to stop aging somewhere in the late '30s or early '40s, and he shows that off here. His solo song is, unfortunately for me, right before the Jeanmaire dream ballet, where I find it hard to pay attention, but he sounds lovely. His number with Donald O'Connor at the start of the movie, "You Gotta Give the People Hoke," is a lot of fun, though reminiscent in feel to a number he did about ten years earlier with Fred Astaire ("A Couple of Song and Dance Men"). Still, though, it's lots of fun. Plus, it gives him a chance to do a bit of dancing, which I always enjoy. He wasn't an accomplished dancer by any means, but he could do a nice soft-shoe and make it look fun.
Finally, to my favorite bits. In my head, Anything Goes stars Donald O'Connor, with Mitzi Gaynor, featuring special, limited appearances by Bing Crosby and Jeanmaire. Besides the opening duet with Bing, Donald gets a (mostly) solo on "It's De-Lovely," which is followed by a beautiful dance with Mitzi Gaynor; a solo number written new for the movie, "You Can Bounce Right Back", in which he is a bit silly and plays with kids while dancing; and another comedy number with Bing called "A Second-Hand Turban and a Crystal Ball." And this is on top of the two numbers featuring all four main cast members ("You're the Top" and "Blow, Gabriel, Blow"). That's a lot of Donald O'Connor action, ladies and gentlemen. And it's good.
One of my favorite things about Donald O'Connor is his voice. He doesn't have the magnificent voice that Bing Crosby does, but his voice is very lovely in its own right. It can be silly, romantic, cheerful, dramatic, straightforward, fearful, and lots of things in between, and much of that is on display here. There's a quality to his voice that, while not mindblowingly phenomenal, is pleasant and one of my favorite voices, actually.
And I haven't even started on the dancing. The two big "proper" dances are "It's De-Lovely" and "You Can Bounce Right Back." True, "It's De-Lovely" feels like a variations on White Christmas's "The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing" (including a faster tempo section that must be climbed to, as well as a sliding descent back to the main level), but it's (de-)lovely to watch. Mitzi Gaynor partners really well with Donald O'Connor, their styles seem to mesh well, and, really, they're a joy to watch together. As for "You Can Bounce Right Back," well, there's part of me that thinks it's kind of cheesy, but there's the other part of me that really, really likes it. Donald O'Connor dancing and playing ball with a bunch of kids? You don't get much more fun with that. And, I can't help but think some of those ball tricks weren't easy to work out.
So, there you have it. Anything Goes, while not the pinnacle of movie musicals by any stretch, is still a fun, enjoyable ride, made much more pleasant thanks to the talents of one Mr. Donald O'Connor.
Summer Stock
(Directed by Charles Walters. Starring Judy Garland, Gene Kelly, Gloria De Haven, Phil Silvers, and Eddie Bracken.)
There is something of a tradition in movie musicals of the plucky gang of talented troopers who, despite all obstacles that land in their path, put on a show, often in a barn. Usually, these plucky troopers are teenagers, wanting to show the world what they've got, but sometimes full-fledged adults do it, too. More often than not, these aren't the most sophisticated of tales, but that doesn't make them boring. In fact, the simplicity of the story gives you more room to play.
Summer Stock is the story of Jane Falbury (Judy Garland), whose farm has a lot of debt and little help, though her fiancé, Orville Wingait (Eddie Bracken) and his father are doing what they can to be supportive. Jane is looking forward to her spoiled sister Abigail (Gloria De Haven) coming home to help, only Abigail comes home with a troop of actors, led by Joe Ross (Gene Kelly), to put on a show in the barn. Jane agrees to let the actors stay if they help with the chores. This causes some tension between Jane and Orville, and Jane and the town. Will Jane give into the pressure of living in a small town, or will she let the actors stay and do their thing... and possibly join with them? (The short answers: no and yes, respectively.)
Judy Garland is wonderful in this movie. It might not be the most taxing role she ever played, but she's utterly charming. She gets to be funny as well as vulnerable. She has some great songs to sing (as well as an odd one or two), and it gives her what became one of her signature concert songs and looks. The song is "Get Happy"; the look is a black hat, a black tuxedo jacket, a white or pink chiffon scarf, black stockings, and black heels. She really did rock that look. And song. So what if it looks like it comes from another movie (it doesn't, by the way — it was filmed several weeks after principal filming; Judy had just lost some weight in the meantime); it's an iconic number, and she shows such command and presence. It's been one of my favorites ever since I first saw it.
Gene Kelly, on the other hand, is also wonderful here, though this isn't your typical Gene Kelly character. Gene got his "big break" in the Rodgers and Hart musical Pal Joey, in which he played a nightclub performer who was rather amoral, if charming; in the terms of the day, he was a heel. Pal Joey is the template for most of Gene Kelly's characters throughout his career, though most of his heels end up being redeemed in the end. Joe Ross, though, is probably the nicest, least heel-like character Gene played, particularly at MGM. Joe is honest, decent, giving, fair, and gentle (except when he's being a director, but that's just about the job, and it's all for the good of the show, right?). As a fan of Gene Kelly, it's nice to start with the nice guy instead of the cad; it's a refreshing change of pace.
Besides being a fabulous dancer, Gene is remembered for his attempts to expand the way dance is presented on film. The year before this movie was made, Gene co-directed On the Town, which included a dream ballet sequence that expressed the character's story and emotions so far through dance. While this idea wasn't new, he was trying to adapt it to movies. Summer Stock has no dream ballet (Gene would use the idea to better effect a year later in An American in Paris), but there is the newspaper dance, which is great. Danced to "You, Wonderful You", the newspaper dance, as it's commonly called, features Gene walking across an empty stage. One of the floorboards squeaks, and he starts playing with the sound of it, doing a little tap step and incorporating the floorboard. As he's dancing around, his foot hits a newspaper page on the floor, and the sound it made when moving intrigues him. So, he starts playing with that, moving it around, tap dancing on it, even ripping it. Even though it's completely rehearsed and planned, it comes across so naturally; it's the sort of routine that makes me half-wish, half-believe that people really can break into a spontaneous yet beautifully executed dance.
Not only are Judy and Gene wonderful on their own, together they're fantastic. In their regular scenes together, there's a nice, relaxed feeling between them, a real sense of comradery. In their first dance together, "The Portland Fancy" (which is this sort of traditional dance turned into a jazzy modern tap thing), there's a friendly sort of rivalry between them, and it's great fun watching them try to one-up each other. Their other proper number together is the first time we hear "You, Wonderful You." It's tentative and charming and sweet, really. It's not overly complicated, but that's okay, because sometimes there's a great beauty in simple things.
The supporting cast is also solid. Gloria De Haven plays the spoiled sister in such a way that you're exasperated with her but never completely annoyed with her. And, when it reaches the point that you can whole-heartedly like her, you do. Eddie Bracken is great as Orville; you can't exactly root for him and Jane, but you don't want to see him hurt, either. The sneezing gag gets a little old, but that's mostly at the beginning of the movie. And Phil Silvers as Herb, Joe's best friend (from the looks of it), is funny, a little weird, but ultimately loveable. Plus, he gets the great, silly line, "Eggs! E-G-Z!" Not very sophisticated comedy, to be sure, but it makes me laugh. Every time. (And, I have a tendency to quote that, at least in my head, whenever there's a conversation about eggs. Make of that what you will.)
Ultimately, Summer Stock is a light, breezy musical without a whole lot of substance, but with plenty of frills to catch your attention and entertain you. It's almost a guilty pleasure sort of movie, at least for me. On the one hand, I look at it and see how clichéd it all is; on the other, it's just so charming and pleasant and comforting, and everyone seems so nice, that I just can't help but smile and enjoy the show. And, really, if you can't enjoy what you're watching, what's the point?
The Band Wagon
(Directed by Vincente Minnelli. Starring Fred Astaire, Cyd Charisse, Oscar Levant, Nanette Fabray, and Jack Buchanan.)
The other two movies I've talked about this time around aren't what anyone would consider great. They're good, yes, and enjoyable, but they don't exactly raise the art of the movie musical to new heights or are considered one of the best movie musicals of all time. This does not apply to The Band Wagon.
After the success of An American in Paris and Singin' in the Rain, both of which featured catalogs of specific composers (George and Ira Gershwin, and Nacio Herb Brown and Arthur Freed, respectively), MGM decided to return to the catalog well, this time choosing the songs of Arthur Schwartz and Howard Dietz. Instead of the naming the film after one of the songs, this movie's name comes from a 1931 Broadway show, with music by Schwartz and Dietz, that starred, among others, Fred Astaire.
This version of The Band Wagon is about Hollywood song-and-dance man Tony Hunter (Fred Astaire), who is something of a Hollywood relic now. His pals Lily and Lester Marton (Nanette Fabray and Oscar Levant) are Broadway playwrights and have written him a show. They manage to get Jeffrey Cordova (Jack Buchanan), the Broadway superstar who is directing three hit shows while simultaneously starring in one of them, to direct, and he convinces the famous and much-sought-after ballet dancer Gabrielle "Gaby" Gerard (Cyd Charisse) to join as the leading lady. Everything seems to be going well, except that the play the Martons wrote, about a children's book writer who writes crime novels on the side for better money, with lots of fun songs and comedy, has become a modern version of Faust in the hands of Jeffrey Cordova. But is this the right sort of show to do? (Answer: no.) After a lot of trial, tribulation, heartache, and explosions (yes, you read that right), the show gets made and is a hit.
This is probably my favorite Fred Astaire performance in a Technicolor. Not only does he get some fabulous solo numbers ("By Myself" has such an easy sound when he sings it, and "A Shine on Your Shoes" is so cheerful... and rather good advice, when you get down to it), there's also great duets with both Cyd Charisse and Jack Buchanan. And, really, there's a rather nice acting performance in there, too. It's easy to forget the acting parts of musical performances, but Fred is in top form. Fred's portrayal of Tony Hunter is completely believable. The overdoing it in rehearsal so he can get all eight-eighths, his declaration of independence and subsequent storming out to the room, his frustrated tantrum in his room, his shyness and awkwardness and insecurity with and around Gaby, it all feels really natural. I'm sure Fred would dismiss praise of his acting in this movie, but it's a really good performance. It's really not surprising that some of his later dramatic roles were nominated for Golden Globes or Oscars.
There are many things to love about this movie (and I'll get to that in a moment), but there is one... well, and a half... thing(s) that I don't like. The half a thing is the song "That's Entertainment," but I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it, because I do like it. It's just that the song was the title and theme of a series of retrospective movies MGM made in the 1970s (and 1994) featuring various and sundry clips from their huge store of movie musicals, and, well, they made sure to make the most of the song. So, it's not a case of it being bad — in fact, it's quite clever — but of it just being over-used in later material that I'm familiar with. The full thing I don't like is the number "Louisiana Hayride." It's just... tiresome and kind of annoying to me. I don't like the song, regardless of how easily it gets stuck in my head, I don't like the way it's staged, and the song is kind of nonsensical. The lyrics say something like, "Get goin', Louisiana hayride, no use for callin' the roll," and then they proceed to... call the roll. Yeah. I mean, Nanette Fabray looks adorable, but that song just grates on my nerves. Luckily, it's not too long, which is good, since "I can stand anything but pain!"
Now, onto the good stuff, which is, for the most part, the musical numbers. However much the show-within-a-show makes no sense (they never do; trust me), the musical numbers are fantastic. I already mentioned a couple of them, "By Myself" and "A Shine on Your Shoes," but those are both within the first about fifteen minutes or so. There's so much more fun to be had. Let me mention a couple of my favorites.
"Triplets" features Tony, Lily, and Jeffrey dressed as babies, sitting in high chairs. They sing about the difficulties of being triplets and how they wish they could "shoot the other two and be only one." Yeah, it's weird, I know. But, between the cheek rouge and the little curl hanging on their foreheads, it kind of has to be seen to be believed. Plus, they're dancing on their knees. Their knees, people! It's kind of incredible to watch, even if it's weird and bizarre.
Fred Astaire and Jack Buchanan have a lovely duet in the song "I Guess I'll Have to Change My Plan." They both worked with Schwartz and Dietz in the '30s, and they both have an easy elegance about them, which makes watching them do a little soft-shoe routine (I don't know if it was technically a soft-shoe, but it feels like one) a pure joy to watch.
One of Fred's best romantic duets is "Dancing in the Dark" with Cyd Charisse. The scene is Tony and Gaby, away from the stress and strain of rehearsals, getting to know each other a little bit and see if they can actually dance together. They're in a park, where there's some music playing and couples dancing, only they don't join in. They continue walking and, as they're walking, start experimenting with movement — a turn here, a twirl there. All of a sudden, though you can't define an exact starting point, they're dancing, together, and it's beautiful. You don't need words to be spoken or sung; it's all there in the dance.
The Band Wagon accomplishes what several musicals had attempted but never quite pulled off, and that's the extended dance sequence. Sure, you've got On the Town's "A Day in New York Ballet," An American in Paris's final 17-minute long dance extravaganza, and Singin' in the Rain's "Broadway Ballet," but, for me, they never quite get over the bar. "A Day in New York" and the ballet at the end of An American in Paris both tell the story of the film, whether literally or emotionally. My problem with them is, basically, I've sort of just watched it, so you're telling me stuff I already know. (Which isn't to say I hate them, because I don't; they have bits I really love, but they don't add anything to the movies for me.) "Broadway Ballet" is a fine story with some really great moments, but it feels a bit indulgent — I mean, we have a dream sequence for, not one of our actual characters, but a character one of our characters is playing — it's just part of a movie that's supposed to be made within the movie I'm watching; I find myself not caring much about it.
And then you have The Band Wagon and "The Girl Hunt Ballet," as it's commonly called. It is amazing. You get this nice little film noir or pulp crime story presented as a musical number, which makes the number's story immediately more interesting for me, because stuff actually happens. There's enough of an actual story to keep your interest, even though it's not actually about our characters. There's narration from the private detective (played by Tony Hunter... played by Fred Astaire) full of that stylized way of speaking we've come to expect from our hard-boiled detectives: "She was scared, scared as a turkey in November;" "Somewhere in the city there was a killer, and that was bad... bad for the killer because I shoot hard... and I hate hard;" "She came at me in sections, more curves than a scenic railway;" and so forth. Everything serves the story it's telling, and never does it indulge beyond the needs of the story. The mystery doesn't make the greatest amount of sense, but that's never exactly necessary in detective movies (The Big Sleep, I'm looking at you). All that matters is that Cyd Charisse is a great femme fetale, and Fred Astaire could go toe-to-toe with the Philip Marlowes and Sam Spades of the world.
The Band Wagon's finale really does sum itself up quite well:
"A show that is really a showI don't think I could put it any better.
Sends you out with a kind of a glow,
And you say as you go on your way,
'That's entertainment!'"