Seven Brides for Seven Brothers: A Colorful Collage of Songs & Dances...Plus an Awesome Breakfast

The Oregon Territory in 1850 provides the setting for this high-energy, colorful musical based on a Benet short story (which, in turn, was inspired by Plutarch’s “The Abduction of the Sabine Women”). Adam Pontipee (Howard Keel) is a hard-working “mountain man” who comes to town for supplies—and a wife. After announcing his plans to a storeowner, he adds: “I’m in no hurry…I got all afternoon.” He quickly settles on Millie (Jane Powell), a comely—but sassy—lass who chops wood, cooks, and milks cows. For Millie, it’s love at first sight and the chance to take care of her own home.

The honeymoon gets off to a rocky start when Millie discovers that Adam has six brothers. “Y’all live around here?” she asks. “Not ’round. Here,” replies one of the brothers. After overcoming her initial shock, Millie grows fond of her brothers-in-law…until they listen to Adam and take extreme measures to get their own brides.

The score by Johnny Mercer and Gene de Paul is a tuneful one. “Wonderful, Wonderful Day” and “When You’re in Love” are bright, pretty love songs. But Mercer’s best lyrics are reserved for “Lonesome Polecat,” a woeful lament sung by the lovesick brothers (a sample line: “A man can’t sleep when he sleeps with sheep”).

Michael Kidd’s spectacular choreography provides a perfect complement to the music. Kidd insisted that all the dance numbers derive from what the brothers were doing. Most critics consider the barn-raising scene to be the film’s showstopper. But I favor the dance where the brothers try to outshine their rivals from the town and the aforementioned “Lonesome Polecat,” in which the brothers cut and saw wood in unison with the musical beats.

The cast is uniformly fine, with Powell and Keel generating the required chemistry as the romantic leads. Four of the brothers were accomplished dancers (I think Matt Mattox, who plays Caleb, is the best). Russ Tamblyn, who had no prior dancing experience (he was an acrobat), is quite appealing as the youngest brother. It’s hard to believe it’s the same actor who would later played a key role in the wonderfully weird TV series Twin Peaks.

I first saw Seven Brides on The CBS Late Movie in the mid-1970s. I liked it well enough then, but my fondness for it has grown significantly over the years. See a good print of it, if possible, so you can enjoy the vibrant colors. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers inspired a mediocre, short-lived TV series and a very successful Broadway play.

It has also played in a key role in a running joke between my mother-in-law and me. In one scene in Seven Brides, Jane Powell's character fixes the brothers an incredible breakfast with everything you can imagine: flapjacks, sausage, eggs, biscuits, potatoes, etc. So when visiting my's wife folks, if my mother-in-law asks if I want something to eat in the morning, I always reply: "A Jane Powell breakfast would be nice." I never get one, though. But I do get to hear a lovely laugh in response.

Beach Blanket Bingo: "That's the name of the...that's the name of the...that's the name of the game!"

The fourth installment in AIP's Beach Party series remains the best remembered for several reasons. It featured early performances by blonde actresses Linda Evans and Marta Kristen, both of whom would find fame on television (Evans in The Big Valley and later Dynasty; Kristen in Lost in Space as Judy Robinson, the older daughter). It marked the first teaming of director William Asher and comedian Paul Lynde. That same year, Asher produced the TV series Bewitched for then-wife Elizabeth Montgomery and soon cast Lynde in his most famous role as Uncle Arthur, the mischievous warlock. Beach Blanket Bingo also marked the beginning of the end for sand-and-surf teen movies. Frankie Avalon made only a cameo in the follow-up How to Stuff a Wild Bikini. Neither Annette nor Frankie stayed around for The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini, the dismal final entry in the Beach Party series.

The storyline in Beach Blanket Bingo hinges on three loosely-connected subplots. Frankie and Dee Dee (Annette), who live on the beach with a bunch of friends, become mixed up with skydivers Steve (John Ashley) and Bonnie (Deborah Walley, a former Gidget). Bonnie wants to make Steve jealous, so she puts the moves on Frankie. In retaliation, Dee Dee feigns interest in Steve. Meanwhile, Frankie's pal Bonehead (Jody McCrea), a perennial loser at love, encounters a beautiful mermaid named Lorelei (Kristen). She can walk on land for brief periods (“You have pretty legs for a fish!” exclaims Bonehead), but her life as a sea creature proves a serious obstacle to a permanent relationship. Bonehead also likes Sugar Cane (Evans), an unknown singer being promoted by Bullets (Lynde), a snide publicity hound. Sugar has another admirer, too, motorcycle gang leader Eric Von Zipper (Harvey Lembeck), who kidnaps the singer because she is his “idol.” Unfortunately, Von Zipper's pool hall rival, South Dakota Slim (Timothy Carey), kidnaps Sugar from the motorcycle gang leader.

It’s pretty silly stuff, but remains undeniably entertaining thanks to the pleasant performances and engaging songs. The most famous tune in the whole Beach Party series is probably the hook-laden title track (“Beach blanket bingo…that’s the name of the game!”) penned by Guy Hemric and Jerry Styner. However, my personal fave is “It Only Hurts When I Cry” crooned by bubbly Donna Loren—who should have been a pop music star, but spent her best years stalled on the brink of stardom. The soundtrack also features Harvey Lembeck’s showstopping number “I Am My Ideal,” which boasts some delicious lyrics (“I'm the greatest, I admit / I got class, I'm full of it”). It was popular enough to be reprised by Lembeck in How to Stuff a Wild Bikini. (By the way, while it appears that Linda Evan is singing, she’s actually lip-syncing to Jackie Ward’s vocals).

The Beach Party films pretty much defy serious analysis, except in regard to their pop culture treatment of 1960s teens, especially young women. In Beach Party, Annette’s character believes herself to be attracted to an older man (Robert Cummings). In Bikini Beach, she--along with all the other girls--swoon over British rock sensation The Potato Bug (Frankie in a dual role). She sits idly by while Luciana Paluzzi tries to steal Frankie in Muscle Beach Party. And in Pajama Party, her boyfriend is the incredibly dumb Big Lunk (Jody McCrea), whom she eventually dumps for an affable alien. So, it comes as a surprise in the series’ fifth film when Dee Dee decides to take matters into her hands. In Bingo, when Frankie seems interested in Bonnie, the skydiver, Dee Dee hooks up with Steve (series regular John Ashley, the “other good-looking guy”). It may just be a routine jealousy ploy, but it’s a step-up for Dee Dee—showing that she’s willing to take matters into her own hands and not allow Frankie to dictate their relationship.

The Beach Party movies are an acquired taste. I never really caught the bug until the late 1990s when AMC started showing them on Saturday nights. But I became such a fan that I bought all seven on DVD and last summer, my wife and I watched one every weekend for almost two months. It was a blast! Muscle Beach Party may be a close second, but Beach Blanket Bingo is still stuck firmly in the sand as our #1—thanks to its songs, the mermaid, creepy South Dakota Slim, wisecracks from Paul Lynde and Don Rickles, Donna Loren’s singing, Frankie & Annette’s natural chemistry, and the always amusing Harvey Lembeck. In fact, Harvey delivers our favorite line to Linda Evans' Sugar (which we tweak a bit in saying to each other): “Eric Von Zipper adores you. And when Eric Von Zipper adores somebody, they stay adored.”

The Genius of Rodgers and Hammerstein: Carousel

It is impossible to describe Rogers and Hammerstein’s Carousel without using the word “haunting”. Considered by most critics and admirers to be their darkest musical, Carousel is a blend of beautiful and memorable music, a story of love unspoken, feelings unexpressed, disappointment, joy and death. These are not the usual components of a musical play. In fact, it begins with the hero, Billy Bigelow (Gordon McRae) already dead and working in a sort of way station to heaven, polishing stars. Based on the novel “Liliom” by Hungarian writer Ferenc Molnar, Carousel retains most of the story without many of the bleaker aspects of the original novel.

Carousel was released in 1956 and directed by Henry King (known for movies such as Song of Bernadette, Twelve O'Clock High, The Sun Also Rises and Love Is A Many-Splendored Thing). It is the story of Billy, a carnival barker for a carousel owned by the tough, street-wise Mrs. Mullin (Audrey Christie). Billy is handsome, charismatic, and well aware of his effect on women. One evening he meets Julie (Shirley Jones), a young girl who attracts Billy by her beauty and demeanor of quiet poignancy. At first, Billy sees Julie as just another conquest, but her decency and trust arouse a different feeling in him. He is a man who is not accustomed to much depth of thought, and he is surprised and a little annoyed by his feelings of protection toward Julie. In one of the most beautiful love scenes in movie history, Billy and Julie sing “If I Loved You”, their timid foray into intimacy with each other. Julie chooses to stay with Billy even at the expense of her reputation, and Billy leaves behind his job as a barker for the jealous Mrs. Mullin.

We are never quite sure if Billy and Julie are intimate before their marriage, but they are next shown returning to Julie’s Aunt Nettie (Claramae Turner) as a newly married couple. Billy, a rather surly and egotistical man, refuses to find ordinary work, and the couple lives with Julie’s aunt. Billy meets a shady sailor, Jigger (Cameron Mitchell) who encourages Billy’s baser interests in gambling and lazy living. A reluctant husband, Billy bristles indignantly at the rumor that he has beaten Julie, angrily answering that he just hit her. Then Julie tells Billy that she is going to have a child, and Billy begins to grow into a man. One of the most famous and moving songs, “Billy’s Soliloquy”, finds him looking forward to being a father, thinking first of a son with whom he can have fun, then realizing his child may be a daughter. Billy’s tough-guy character shies from fathering a girl, until feelings of tenderness and protection bring him to the conclusion that he must make something of himself to protect his unborn child. His feelings toward a daughter mirror the protective feelings he found in himself toward Julie. The song and MacRae’s performance are brilliantly written and performed.

Julie’s friend, Carrie (Barbara Ruick), has taken a different path and marries Mr. Snow (Robert Rounseville), a rather dull but dependable man who promises to be a solid husband. There are two numbers sung by Carrie, “When I Marry Mr. Snow” and “When The Children Are Asleep” which are lovely and tender. Julie understands the difference between her husband and the steadfast Mr. Snow, but she never wavers in her love and loyalty to Billy.

A rollicking dance number    “June Is Busting Out All Over” precedes a clambake attended by the young people of the town. Billy and Jigger decide to sneak off during a treasure hunt to rob one of the rich ship-owners. Billy can think of no other way to make money for his family. Julie, unaware of his plan, is nonetheless worried and begs him to stay with her at the clambake. After he leaves, Julie sings a song to the other women explaining the loyalty women feel toward their men, “What’s The Use Of Wondering”, a song of sadness and love.

In his attempt at robbery, Billy is thwarted by the shipowner’s defense, and he accidentally falls on his knife. The clambake party returns, and Julie sees that Billy is dying. He asks her to tell their unborn child that he had plans to make something of himself, and dies in Julie’s arms. Aunt Nettie consoles the heartbroken Julie with what is probably the most famous song from the musical, “You’ll Never Walk Alone”.

Years later, Billy is given the chance by the Starkeeper (Gene Lockhart, who also doubles as the village minister) to return to earth for one day to see if he can help his daughter Louise (Susan Luckey ), now a troubled teenager. For me, the number “Louise’s Ballet” is the tour de force of this film, and is worth seeing just on its own. Famed ballet dancer Jacque D’Ambois dances the part of a carousel barker, using dancers to form a magical impression of a carousel and horses. Louise is captivated by her dreams of the father she never knew, and her budding feelings of love for the handsome barker. It is a number not to be missed.

I will not go further for the sake of those who have not seen the movie. In Molnar’s original novel, Liliom actually commits suicide after the botched robbery, and is unable to help his daughter, and subsequently doomed to hell. For a Broadway musical and movie of this era, such an ending would not be acceptable. Nonetheless, the story loses none of its realistic portrayal of imperfect people in an imperfect world, struggling with love, self-doubt and morality.

Originally, the part of Billy Bigelow was to be played by Frank Sinatra. As much as I love Sinatra’s singing and acting, I think he would have been totally miscast. He left the production after learning that for the technique of Cinemascope each scene would have to be filmed twice. McRae was hired and filming continued. Interestingly, immediately after Sinatra’s departure, the filming process was changed and the need for that technique was no longer necessary. McRae had the part for which he was perfect.

The part of Julie was originally offered to Judy Garland, also in my opinion a casting mistake. However, that never materialized, and popular Shirley Jones took over. Shirley said that Carousel was her favorite musical. Richard Rogers also said that his score for Carousel was his favorite.

Carousel began as a Broadway musical, with John Raitt in the part of Billy. I have heard Raitt’s performance, particularly the Soliloquy, and his rendition actually surpasses McRae’s, as good as McRae was. You may know that Raitt is the father of country singing star Bonnie Raitt.

The "Carousel Waltz," heard at the beginning of the film is one of Richard Rogers’ most beautiful numbers. It sets the haunting tone for this unusual and brilliant work. Rodgers and Hammerstein's creation of depth and eloquent pathos done in the musical genre is without equal.

Swing Time with Fred and Ginger...and that Awesome Dress

If you don’t think Top Hat is the best Fred and Ginger film ever, then chances are you think that honor belongs to Swing Time. To many it is a toss up. I, of course, prefer Top Hat, but there are many who say Swing Time is better. In regards to political correctness, Top Hat is the one that stands the test of time, as Astaire performs in blackface in Swing Time. So, let the debate begin…once I give this film the once over, of course.

Based on the Elwin Gelsey story “Portrait of John Garnett” (screenplay adaptation by Howard Lindsay and Allen Scott), the film was directed by George Stevens (he needed a break—he’d just finished working with Katharine Hepburn). The charming dance numbers are the beneficiary of an excellent soundtrack by Jerome Kern and Dorothy Fields. “The Way You Look Tonight” took home the 1936 Oscar for Best Song and Hermes Pan was nominated for Best Dance Direction for “Bojangles of Harlem”. Besides these two great routines, there is also “A Fine Romance”, “Pick Yourself Up”, “Waltz in Swing Time”, and “Never Gonna Dance”.

The plot is very thin, but thankfully Fred and Ginger’s dancing make you forget this. Astaire plays John “Lucky” Garnett, a vaudeville “hoofer” who wants to be a professional gambler. He also wants to marry his rich girlfriend Margaret (Betty Furness), but he and his wedding trousers are sidetracked by his dancing partners who don’t want him to quit the business. He arrives hours late to the wedding and is informed by Margaret’s father, Judge Watson (director George Stevens’ father Landers Stevens) that there isn’t going to be a wedding. Lucky and the judge then come to an agreement: if Lucky goes to New York City and makes $25,000 then the judge will reconsider.

So, off to the big city goes a broke Lucky, his lucky quarter, and his best pal, Pop (Victor Moore). Once in New York they soon meet Penny Carol (Rogers), who promptly tries to have them arrested for theft. Lucky is still in his wedding clothes, so the officer doesn’t believe her. Miffed, Penny strides off to her job at the Gordon’s Dancing Academy with Lucky in hot pursuit. Upon entering the studio Lucky encounters receptionist Mabel (Helen Broderick), who offers him a free dance lesson in hopes that he’ll enroll in a $45 course. Seeing Penny’s picture on the wall, he asks to take his free lesson with her. An infuriated Penny must endure his faked ineptitude, which leads to the film’s first musical number, “Pick Yourself Up”. Many critics have said this song was a nod to people trying to endure the Depression. With lyrics like: “Don't lose your confidence if you slip/Be grateful for a pleasant trip/And pick yourself up/Dust yourself off/ Start all over again” it is easy to see where they may have gotten that idea. When Penny is fired by the dance studio’s owner, Mr. Gordon (Eric Blore), for insulting him, Lucky steps in and shows off what he’s “learned” from Penny. In a fluid shot, Stevens captures the duo as they do their famous swinging twirl and leap over the dance railings. Mr. Gordon is so impressed that he decides to send the duo to his friend Simpson’s (Pierre Watkin) Silver Sandal club for an audition. To get a dinner jacket for the audition, Lucky tries to gamble but ends up losing his pants in the process. No audition and Penny is yet again angry with him.

Fast forward a bit and you find Lucky and Pop picketing outside Penny’s room. With the help of Mabel, Lucky finds his way into her room and tries to convince her to give him (and their dance partnership) another shot. And what’s the best way to convince an angry woman to reconsider slicing your heart open with her stiletto? You serenade her with “The Way You Look Tonight”. Penny, soapy hair and all, forgives him and agrees to a new audition. Too bad Ricardo (George Mataxa), the band leader at the Silver Sandal, is in love with Penny and won’t play for the duo because he’s jealous of Lucky and because his contract now belongs to Dice Raymond (John Harrington), another night club (and casino) owner. So, Lucky gambles Dice Raymond for Ricardo’s contract—and wins. The first musical piece he conducts for his new boss is “Waltz in Swing Time”. This waltz is definitely in “swing time”, as it is lightening fast with Astaire and Rogers doing some very nimble foot work and interesting gliding back kicks, amongst their usual twirls. It is a breathtaking dance, both figuratively and literally.

Later in the film the duo travel with Pop and Mabel (an odd couple if there ever was one) to a rundown lodge. It is the middle of a snowy winter and they are driving in an open convertible—really? Of course, by this point in the film Penny and Lucky are in love, but he’s giving her advances the brush-off because of his engagement to Margaret. Having all of her romantic advances rebuffed is too much for Penny and she begins singing “A Fine Romance”. The song is very sarcastic and well, cute: she wants them to be hot tomatoes and he wants them to be cold potatoes. Eventually, Pop lets her in on the fact that Lucky is engaged—just as Lucky decides to give in to his feelings.

Back in the city they begin performing at the Silver Sandal and continue their flirtation. It is at this point in the film that today’s viewer may become a bit uncomfortable, as Astaire performs in blackface in "Bojangles of Harlem". What today’s viewer doesn’t know is Astaire did this as a tribute to the African American tap dancer Bill Robinson. It is an excellent solo number for Astaire and the set design was inspired. Tap dancing amongst twenty four singing chorus girls dressed in half black and half white, Astaire showcases his wonderful tap work. Later in the number, Astaire performs a shadow dance amongst three screen projected shadows and outduels (or better yet, out-taps) them all. This is the only time he ever did a blackface number in a film. Anyway, at the end of the number Lucky notices that Margaret is in the audience. Uh-oh.

In a very quick amount of time a lot happens. Lucky loses Ricardo’s contract to Dice and Penny is introduced to Margaret. Both of these events convince Penny that she should marry Ricardo and finally be done with the gambling (and engaged) Lucky. When Lucky learns that Penny is going to marry Ricardo he convinces her to have one last dance with him when he starts singing “Never Gonna Dance”. This is perhaps the most “emotional” dance the duo ever performed together. As long as they continue this dance their romance can go on, but if the dance ends so does the romance. And, so this is one of the longest numbers the duo ever performed together. All of their earlier dance routines are intermingled with this one. It is awesome to watch this, as well as when they spin their way up a curved staircase and end the number in what can only described as an explosion of twirls. At the end, she runs away from him. It is rather devastating to watch…but then you remember it’s Fred and Ginger: I know there’s a happy ending somewhere! Okay, but we still must talk about Ginger’s dress in this number. Ten trillion times better than the Ostrich number from Top Hat, this low-cut, white satin gown was designed by Bernard Newman and it is one of the all-time greatest film gowns EVER! With cross-your-heart pleats and a cut to die for, not to mention a startling cape that was connected by a rhinestone choker, this is the ultimate “I’m just too damn sexy” dress.

But back to the story, in the end Margaret tells Lucky she doesn’t want to marry him, which frees him up to steal Ricardo’s pants before his wedding to Penny. In a rather quirky, but very sweet, ending, the two end up serenading one another with the other’s song, he sings her “A Fine Romance” and she sings his “The Way You Look Tonight”.

This is my second favorite Fred and Ginger picture. It is a lot like Top Hat, especially with the art deco set designs and the usual plot devices. I don’t know if I can make a definitive statement as to which number, “Cheek to Cheek” or “Never Gonna Dance”, is the greatest. Both are spectacular, but Ginger does wear that itchy ostrich dress in “Cheek to Cheek”. Oh, well, I’d like to hear what you think on this subject…and anything else you might have to add.

Dancing Cheek to Cheek? Top Hat Required

When considering the Fred and Ginger phenomenon, one need only remember what Katharine Hepburn said about the duo: “She gave him sex, and he gave her class." Alone, he was far from sexy and she wasn’t close to genteel. Yet, when you put them together, all of that fell away and you saw a beautiful, sophisticated couple. All told, they made 10 films together—most of which were quite good. Their chemistry, both dancing and romantic, is undeniable and has stood the test of time. That is why today they are still regarded as THE greatest dance team ever.

Director Mark Sandrich obviously worked well with the duo, as he directed five of their films. Working from a witty screenplay penned by Allan Scott and Dwight Taylor, based on the Alexander Farago and Aladar Laszlo play The Girl Who Dared, Sandrich’s deft directorial decisions about how the film should be shot made Top Hat the duo’s biggest box office success, as well as their most critically acclaimed film. It was nominated for four Academy Awards (Best Picture, Best Interior Decoration, Best Song, and Best Dance Direction), but won none.

Astaire and Hermes Pan choreographed the film to five wonderful Irving Berlin songs: “Top Hat, White Tie, and Tails,” Cheek to Cheek,” “No Strings,” “Isn’t This a Lovely Day To Be Caught in the Rain,” and “The Piccolino.” All the musical numbers seem to seamlessly meld in with the progression of the story—which I find to be a huge plus.

The plot revolves around a simple case of mistaken identity, which complicates a budding romance born out of an accidental meeting. Doesn’t sound too simple to you, eh? Trust me, it’s Fred and Ginger, so it’s definitely simple.

In the beginning, we meet Broadway star Jerry Travers (Astaire) as he’s hanging out in a VERY British gentlemen’s club waiting for producer Horace Hardwick (the always funny Edward Everett Horton). After the two meet up and go to Horace’s hotel, Jerry learns that Horace’s wife Madge (Helen Broderick) wants him to come to Italy and meet a woman she’s picked for him. Jerry’s not interested in this, as he has a strong aversion to “strings.” Thus, Astaire starts singing “No Strings” and does a bit of noisy tap dancing. This awakens the lady sleeping in the room below, Dale Tremont (Rogers). Thus, Jerry and Dale meet when she angrily knocks on the door to complain. She thinks he’s a flake, he thinks she’s wonderful and rethinks the whole “strings” aversion.

The next day we find Jerry buying flowers (from Lucille Ball nonetheless) and being rebuffed by Dale when he offers to take her to a riding club. Not deterred, he decides to pretend to be the hansom cab driver. She recognizes him by his tapping feet, but isn’t that angry. Later, as she’s riding a storm breaks out and she seeks cover. Jerry attempts to come to the rescue, but she gives him the cold shoulder. That is, until a loud clap of thunder sends her into his arms. Once she recovers herself, her icy nature is even worse. To pass the time and make her loathe him a tad less, he sings "Isn't This a Lovely Day”. Once finished with the warm-up number, he begins whistling and trying to get her to dance with him. Eventually she gives in and they perform a sort of shadow dance, mimicking the other’s moves. This number just goes to show that Rogers was just as good a dancer as Astaire, which many people seem to overlook. There is a quote I heard somewhere about how Rogers may have even been better because she danced backwards and in high heels. Anyway, by the end of the scene they are on friendly terms.

Back at the hotel Dale gets a telegram from Mrs. Hardwick suggesting she look up her husband at the hotel. After much confusion, Dale begins to think that Jerry is Mr. Hardwick—oh, no you didn’t! Slap! Not given the courtesy of knowing why he’s been slapped, Jerry is flabbergasted. Still, not deterred, when he learns that Dale is headed to Venice, he demands Horace take him there right after the next number: “Top Hat, White Tie, and Tails.” Of course, top hat and tails were Astaire’s trademark look, so this is one of his quintessential numbers. Backed up by an entire male chorus wearing top hats and tails, Astaire tap dances (cane in hand) in front of a Parisian backdrop (Eiffel Tower included). It’s interesting to watch Astaire wield his cane as a weapon and the dancing sequence is spectacular.

With a quick dissolve, we find ourselves looking at an interesting Art Deco set of what RKO thought Venice should look like. Evidently everything there is a glowing white color. Anyway, after arriving in Venice Dale informs Madge about her husband and the two cook up a plan to teach him a lesson. Of course, Dale still thinks Jerry is Horace and what ensues is a comical game of cat and mouse. At one point, Madge pushes the two to dance together and Jerry finds himself “in heaven”; and, thus starts the spontaneous “Cheek to Cheek” duet. And so the ostrich feathers start to fly! Yes, I know this dress is legendary (for many reasons), but I just hate it! It does work very well in the dance, but it looks itchy and I can’t watch this great number without wanting to scratch. It is a seductive dance that is symbolic of the courtship and eventual consummation of a romance. A mixture of classic ballroom dancing and innovative modern (for that time) dance, it is the signature Fred and Ginger performance. At the end of the dance, Dale is crestfallen when she realizes she’s in love with a married man—one who proposes to her. Oh, no you didn’t! Slap—again.

To escape her conundrum, Dale decides to marry her designer, Alberto Beddini (Erik Rhodes). After learning that the woman he loves has married another man because she mistook him for Horace, Jerry decides he must rescue Dale before she can consummate her marriage. His rescue plan: to dance as loud as possible above the bridal suite. This angers Beddini, a master fencer, and he goes to challenge Jerry to a duel. This give Jerry the opportunity to kidnap Dale in a gondola and for the rest of the cast to pursue them in a motorboat low on petrol. So, while everybody else is out to sea, Dale and Jerry return to the hotel to watch a group of dancers perform “The Piccolino”—they eventually join in on the number. With a nod toward Busby Berkeley, Sandrich uses overhead camera shots to capture the dancers forming patterned images. They will reprise this number at the end of the film, after it is revealed that Dale and Beddini aren’t actually married. Happy ending!

Overall, the musical numbers are top notch. The standout number is, of course, “Cheek to Cheek”, but the other numbers are of a high caliber as well. Irving Berlin combined with Astaire and Pan’s choreography is pure magic.

The Art Deco sets are elegant and quite interesting to observe. In addition, the clothes (especially the evening gowns) are chic and expertly designed. When you combine the wardrobe and set design, you have one very sleek, sophisticated looking film.

Show Boat Has a Good Flowing Story

The 1951 remake of Show Boat is one of my favorite movie musicals. It was directed by George Sidney, who also helmed such famous musicals as Annie Get Your Gun (1950), Kiss Me Kate (1953), and Bye Bye Birdie (1963) in addition to The Three Musketeers (1948) and Scaramouche (1953). Howard Keel was the leading man in Show Boat, which co-starred the talented Kathryn Grayson. Keel was also in Annie Get Your Gun and starred with Kathryn Grayson again in two other musicals: Kiss Me Kate and Lovely to Look At (1952). The movie Show Boat is based on a book by Edna Ferber. Jerome Kern wrote the music and Oscar Hammerstein II wrote the script and song lyrics. It is one of MGM’s most popular musicals. There are quite a few differences between this remake and the 1936 original version. Many movie critics like the earlier one better, although the 1951 remake is more elaborate and the running time is shorter. I have never seen the 1936 version of Show Boat.

The story takes place at the end of the nineteenth century when river boats were still popular. The name of this show boat is the “Cotton Blossom.” It is not a passenger boat, but simply a boat that performs musical entertainment to towns along the Mississippi River. The “Cotton Blossom” is owned by Andy Hawks (Joe E. Brown) and his wife, Parthy (Agnes Moorehead). They have a grown daughter named Magnolia (I love that name), whom they call Nolie (played by Kathryn Grayson). Magnolia is good friends with the Julie LaVerne (Ava Gardner), who is the leading performer in the musical show along with her husband, Steve Baker (Robert Sterling). Magnolia looks up to Julie as a big sister. Along comes Gaylord Ravenal (Howard Keel), a riverboat gambler looking for a job as an actor on the show boat. He is instantly attracted to Magnolia. They sing “Make Believe” which becomes their love song. Julie sees quickly that Ravenal is smitten with Magnolia, who comes to Julie and asks her about being in love. Julie sings the song “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man.” (Ava Gardner’s voice is dubbed by a singer named Annette Warren. However in the MGM soundtrack album, Ava Gardner actually sings the song.)

Trouble begins when a man named Pete (Leif Erickson), who works on the show boat, finds out that Julie has given a necklace he gave her to a black woman. Julie tries to get away from him and her husband, Steve, hits him. Joe is mad at Julie and knows a secret about her that will cause her to be fired from the show. He goes to the local sheriff and tells him that Julie’s father was white and her mother was black. He adds that Julie is married to a white man. The sheriff goes to the “Cotton Blossom” and confronts Julie, Steve, and Mr. Hawks since interracial marriages are against the law. Mr. Hawks does not want to, but has to let Julie go. Steve leaves with her. Before Julie leaves, Magnolia gives her an early Christmas gift that she made herself. As Julie and Steve depart the show boat,” Joe (William Warfield), who works on the boat, sings the famous “Ol’ Man River” song as the fog rolls in off the river.

Mr. Hawk comes up with the idea of his daughter, Magnolia, and Gaylord Ravenal taking over as the lead performers in his musical show. The two soon fall deeply in love. Parthy Hawks is not happy with her daughter getting involved with a river gambler. She tells Ravenal he is not to kiss her daughter during any play performances and watches the two “like a hawk”. Every chance they get Magnolia and Ravenal sneak in a kiss. When they tell Magnolia’s parents they want to marry, Mr. Hawks is delighted—but not Parthy. So, Magnolia and Ravenal leave the “Cotton Blossom.”

They move into an expensive hotel in Chicago. At first, they are happy singing “You Are in Love” and “Why Do I Love You.” Ravenal gambles and makes a lot of money. He buys Magnolia jewels and spends his money lavishly. However, his luck begins to run out and he owes debts. Magnolia offers him her jewels to sell, saying she loves him and not the money. Her husband sells them and loses all the money. He leaves Magnolia without telling her, not realizing that his wife is pregnant. Magnolia is forced to find a job to support herself and her baby. Julie finds out about Magnolia hardships. Julie’s story is heart retching and the saddest part of the story. She does two courageous and compassionate things that change Magnolia’s life. I cannot tell you the rest of the story without spoiling it.

The plot of Show Boat is not the usual happy, simple plot of most musicals. It is more like a drama with musical performances. The film’s background is quite interesting. Judy Garland was chosen to play Julie, but her contract with MGM has ended by the time the part was available. The next choices were Dinah Shore and Lena Horne, but they were dropped. Ava Gardner won the role and did an outstanding job. George Sidney was sick for several days and associate producer Roger Edens had to take over for him. He directed the scene with the fog when Julie and her husband left the show boat and William Warfield sang “Ol Man River.” Many critics say this was the best and most original scene in the movie. Roger Edens’ name is not listed in the credits. Edens searched for the singer to play Joe who sang “Ol Man River,” and he discovered the unknown William Warfield.

The most famous line in the movie is Joe E. Brown’s Andy Hawks. who is drunk on New Year’s Eve. saying “Hap---py New Year!” Notice how Agnes Moorehead as Parthy uses it in the ending. Leif Erickson’s name is misspelled in the credits as “Lief.” Ava Gardner’s Julie plays a big sister role to Kathryn Grayson’s Magnolia, but both actresses were born year in 1922. Both grew up in North Carolina towns too. Ava was born near Smithfield, NC and Kathryn Grayson in Winston-Salem, NC. When Kathryn Grayson died last March, the Ava Gardner Museum in Smithfield did a tribute to her. Howard Keel was known as a fine singer, but also played dramatic roles, such as Clayton Farlow on the Dallas television show from 1981-1991.

The water used as the Mississippi River was the lake built for the Johnny Weissmuller Tarzan movies made at MGM Studios. It was on a back lot and was called The Lagoon. An amusement park bought the boat in 1973 for one of its attractions and it was taken apart in 1995.

Show Boat boasts an engrossing story, a terrific cast, and marvelous music and songs. Try to see the new DVD, which features clear, beautiful color.

The Gold Diggers of 1933 Want You To Remember the Forgotten Men

In 1933 Warner Bros. made three very successful musicals; all of which were choreographed by Busby Berkeley.  I have already reviewed the two bookends, 42nd Street and Footlight Parade, so it only makes sense that I give the third (and middle one) its due: Gold Diggers of 1933. While the other two big Warner Bros. musicals of 1933 were directed by Lloyd Bacon, this one was headed by Mervyn LeRoy.

The film is based on the Avery Hopwood play, The Gold Diggers, which first appeared on Broadway in 1919. Screenwriters David Boehm and Erwin S. Gelsey adapted the story to fit the times, namely the Great Depression. If there ever was a musical about the Depression, this is it. As a matter of fact, if someone asked me who the protagonist of the film was I’d say the Depression.

It’s 1933 and times are tough everywhere, especially on Broadway. This is evidenced in the beginning of the film with the “We’re in the Money” number.  Here we find Ginger Rogers in one of the tackiest costumes ever, but also very apt for the rest of the film: the idea that chorus girls are synonymous with gold diggers. Things were great before the Depression in America and on Broadway—they were in the money! But now the Depression has set in and when you can’t pay your bills the creditors shut you down. And that’s exactly what happens to Ginger’s would-be Broadway hit. She and her four roommates are out of a job and wondering how they are going to pay the rent. Fortunately for them and their cash-starved producer (Ned Sparks) they live next door to a gifted singer and songwriter, Brad (Dick Powell), who just happens to be a millionaire.

The problem is Brad can’t be “visibly” involved with the show or his family will cut him off. When the male lead goes down with a bout of lumbago, Brad has to step in which brings publicity and the wrath of his family, who believe he is being fleeced by a gold-digging woman: namely his girlfriend Polly (Ruby Keeler). Yes, Powell and Keeler are once again romantically paired in a Warner Bros. film!!! The family sends Brad’s older brother Lawrence (Warren William) and their lawyer Fanny (Guy Kibee) to investigate and buy-off Polly. This move eventually leads to the two “rescuers” finding themselves enamored with Polly’s two other gold digging roommates, Carol (Joan Blondell) and Trixie (Aline MacMahon). In the end, the only “gold digger” who doesn’t find a rich man is Fay (Rogers).

While the story is cute, it is the musical numbers that make this a highly enjoyable film. Berkeley put together four stellar numbers: the opening “We’re in the Money,” the very racy “Pettin in the Park,” the sophisticated “Shadow Waltz,” and the topical “Remember My Forgotten Man.”

Adorned in next to nothing but a few gold coins, Ginger Rogers sings “We’re in the Money” while other chorus girls dance with giant coins. This was a memorable way to begin a film and it sets up the rest of the film well. I suppose you could say Berkley launched Rogers’ musical career with this number. Yes, she was in 42nd Street, but she wasn’t the focus of any musical numbers.

“Pettin in the Park” is one of the raciest numbers I can think of from this era. Dick Powell and Ruby Keeler sing the number—Keeler also performs a stellar tap dance—while a creepy baby played by Billy Barty escapes from his stroller and harasses chorus girls. In the number a rainstorm happens, and the women go behind a screen and remove their clothes in silhouette. When they emerge they are wearing metal garments, which make it difficult for the men who want to “pet.” Thus, creepy baby finds a can opener. The number is overtly sexual and would have never been allowed only a year later when the Hays Code was put into full effect.

Powell and Keeler also sing “The Shadow Waltz.” In this number Keeler and Rogers (with a whole bevy of girls) dance around with glow-in-the-dark violins. It is visually stunning to watch, but it is not one of my favorite Berkeley numbers. Which is kind of ironic since he (and a number of the girls) almost died while making it when an earthquake hit the studio. Still, the precision in which Berkeley timed these waltzing ladies is a sight to behold.

The final number of the film is the most memorable: “Remember My Forgotten Man.” Joan Blondell sings her little heart out in this number which criticizes America for forgetting the heroes of WWI during the economic turmoil of the Depression. The number opens by parading hundreds of forgotten men across the stage as Blondell, playing a hooker, sings about the dire circumstances facing the common man. The song talks about the emasculation of men and what it not only does to them but their women as well. In my opinion, this is THE musical number of the Great Depression. The lyrics say it all:

Remember my forgotten man,
You had him cultivate the land;
He walked behind the plow,
The sweat fell from his brow,
But look at him right now!

And once, he used to love me,
I was happy then;
He used to take care of me,
Won't you bring him back again?
'Cause ever since the world began,
A woman's got to have a man;
Forgetting him, you see,
Means you're forgetting me
Like my forgotten man.

The number was inspired by the Bonus Army’s disastrous march on Washington D.C. in 1932. Over 43,000 people marched to the capitol demanding payment for WWI benefits that were promised to them in 1924. Hoover ordered the army to forcefully remove the marchers and at least two people were killed. The song is awe-inspiring and Blondell’s performance is spectacularly raw and evokes strong emotions in me every time I watch it. This number is the main reason that I watch this film every time it is shown.

Phantom of the Paradise: Singing, Music, and a Crazed, Disfigured Composer on the Loose

Following his Hitchcock-inspired 1973 thriller, Sisters, Brian De Palma may have predictably directed another movie in the same vein. Instead, the director surprised critics and audiences with a film that was evidently a retelling of both the legend of Faust and Gaston Leroux' Phantom of the Opera. Incorporating elements of the thriller genre with a fantastic storyline, De Palma presented to the world Phantom of the Paradise (1974), a rock musical in only the way that he could tell it.

Winslow Leach (William Finley) is an aspiring musician/singer/composer, having nearly completed his masterpiece: a cantata based on the story of Faust. Things seem to be looking up when Swan (Paul Williams), a lucrative record producer who is never photographed, expresses interest in Winslow's work. Unfortunately, Swan wants the man's music, not the man himself. When Winslow realizes that Swan is stealing his music, he attempts to infiltrate the "Swanage" (Swan's monumental estate) and is consequently framed for pushing heroin and tossed in prison (quite appropriately in Sing Sing). The defamed composer escapes and, while sabotaging one of Swan's buildings for his label, Death Records, is disfigured when his face is caught in a record press.

Meanwhile, Swan is planning on opening his new concert hall, the Paradise, utilizing Winslow's cantata. Winslow slips into the Paradise, dons a costume and mask and becomes a menacing presence, terrifying the performers. Despite Winslow's deformity and the loss of his voice, Swan recognizes him and convinces him to rewrite his composition, to be sung by Phoenix (Jessica Harper), a woman whom Winslow met at an audition and with whom he has become enamored. The Phantom is doubtful but agrees to the terms and signs a contract (and is given his voice back electronically by Swan). However, upon completion of the cantata, Swan has Winslow locked away, and the Phantom swears vengeance.

Phantom of the Paradise is first and foremost a musical, with words and music handled by Williams, who also provided the Phantom's singing voice. Williams' music is terrific, a skillful intermingling of rock and pop music, with upbeat numbers as impressive as the ballads. Williams gives a strong showing as Swan, making the character believable with his aggressive mannerisms and his persuasive techniques, an antithesis to Williams' bright smile and short stature. Finley, having played the eerie and quaint Emil in De Palma's Sisters, ups the ante in Phantom with a performance that is gleefully theatrical. Although partially hidden behind makeup and mask, it is still Finley as the Phantom, and one of his best scenes is when he practices speaking with his new electronic box, methodically repeating Phoenix' name (and exposing his metal teeth -- a result of his "volunteering" at Sing Sing).

The highlight of Phantom of the Paradise is Jessica Harper, in her feature film debut. She is an exceptional actress, but she also has a sublime singing voice, deep and alluringly smoky, not unlike Karen Carpenter (and, as it happens, two of The Carpenters' hits, "Rainy Days and Mondays" and "We've Only Just Begun", were co-written by Williams). It's not surprising that, when Phoenix sings two solo numbers, "Special to Me" and "Old Souls", De Palma showcases Harper's performances. In fact, during the latter song, the inordinately rowdy audience at the Paradise is quiet and attentive (the only time in the course of the film). Actress Harper has appeared in a number of notable films, including Dario Argento's classic Suspiria (1977), Woody Allen's Stardust Memories (1980), and the pseudo-sequel to the cult 1975 musical The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Shock Treatment (1981). More recently, Harper has written books and released albums aimed at children. She has two daughters of her own who are featured in her books and music. Harper's husband and father to her children is Tom Rothman, co-chairman of Fox Filmed Entertainment and founder of one of its subsidiaries, Fox Searchlight Pictures.

Gerrit Graham is delightfully droll as Beef, the goth rocker hired by Swan to perform Winslow's cantata. Beef is obnoxious and boisterous onstage, but flamboyant and a tad wispy when not performing. When he is explicitly threatened by the Phantom, he has his bags packed and is out the door while a line of people are waiting to see the show! (His suitcases, of course, are adorned with glitter.) George Memmoli, as Philbin, Swan's crony, is likewise humorous.

De Palma employs an abundance of style and ingenuity to Phantom of the Paradise. While there is no Hitchcockian plot, he does include a parody of the shower scene from Hitchcock's Psycho (1960). While Beef is singing in the shower, the Phantom slowly approaches and uses a toilet plunger to silence the rocker, telling him that only Phoenix will be singing his songs. De Palma's trademark split screen is used during a sequence in which the Phantom plants a ticking time bomb in a prop car, which is then rolled onto the stage in the midst of an ongoing performance. One small but very clever method that the director used was the way in which he censored a curse from Philbin (likely to retain a PG rating). The character is speaking to Swan as a stage is being cleared of instruments in the background. But when Philbin reaches an apparent expletive, feedback from an amp prevents it from being heard.

When released in the U.S. in October 1974, Phantom of the Paradise performed poorly. However, two months later, it was released in Winnipeg, Canada, where it was hugely successful and played in theatres for four months. Likewise, the film's soundtrack sold very well, and the stores had trouble keeping it in stock. In June 1975, Paul Williams held a concert in Winnipeg, performing two sold-out shows, with ads referencing the film and Phantom of the Paradise playing in theatres again. Phantom would occasionally play theatrically through the '90s and was even shown in IMAX. In 2005, the movie was celebrated at the Phantompalooza, with a concert and a cast reunion. A Phantompalooza 2 was held the following year.

Originally, Swan's label, Death Records, was a subsidiary of parent company, Swan Song Enterprises. Unfortunately, prior to the film's release, Led Zeppelin created its own label with the very same moniker. While De Palma was able to cut or hide most signs of "Swan Song," there are instances of the original name. In one case, during an impromptu press conference (as Swan introduces Beef to reporters and photographers), a podium has clearly been matted with the Death Records logo (which is simply a bird turned upside down, apparently dead). Throughout the movie, there are occasional glimpses of the Swan Song name, usually on buildings or equipment.

Actress Sissy Spacek was credited as Set Dresser on Phantom of the Paradise, and Jack Fisk, whom she married in 1974, was Production Designer. Spacek would star in her breakout role two years later, in another De Palma film, Carrie.

At least one of the movie posters for Phantom of the Paradise defined the film as such: "The most highly acclaimed horror phantasy of our time." The same poster had the Phantom pictured as a monster, seeming to pull along a reluctant, scantily clad woman. To market the film, the horror and fantasy (or, perhaps, otherworldly) aspects were being used to draw an audience. But more than anything else, De Palma's 1974 film is a musical. It is music that drives the narrative, motivates the characters, and entertains the viewers. And it is the music that has helped Phantom of the Paradise, over 35 years after its release, remain a compelling and thoroughly enjoyable experience.