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A newspaper headline has it, "jazz-ballet merger." Mark Sandrich opens en pointe, from toes twirling in close-up the camera cranes back to a full view of the Parisian rehearsal studio before panning to the portraits hanging on the wall, a bellhop draws a mustache on Edward Everett Horton's painting just as the real thing walks in. The haughty star (Fred Astaire) is really an affable hoofer, Russia by way of Philadelphia. A picture book of the Broadway diva (Ginger Rogers) catches his eye, flipping the pages showcases her grace. "I haven't even met her, but I'd kind of like to marry her." The ocean liner to New York sets the stage for the pursuit, conjugal misunderstandings are eagerly encouraged by her manager (Jerome Cowan). The warm-up adduces a note from Clair with rhythmic machinery in an Art Deco engine room, "learn to zoom zoom zoom, slap that bass," howling pooches lend a chorus for "Beginner's Luck" on a nocturnal deck. "They All Laughed" prefaces the couple's duet in the transatlantic salon. "What am I supposed to do?" "Tweeest." Exceptional Gershwin music, proficient screwball complications, a beautiful wistfulness throughout. "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off" has the inspiration of tapping on roller-skates in Central Park, expanded by Kelly in It's Always Fair Weather. "They Can't Take That Away from Me" needs no tricks, just the rue in Astaire's voice and Rogers' gaze growing moist. The heroine's effigy gives a foreglimpse of Buñuel's Ensayo de un Crimen, Eric Blore's wrath on the phone is suspended between Edgar Kennedy and Bob Newhart. "I must acquaint you with the varying state of my mind!" The finale acknowledges the friendly rivalry with Busby Berkeley, cf. Dames. With Ketti Gallian, William Brisbane, and Harriet Hoctor. In black and white.
--- Fernando F. Croce |