Gene Kelly: the prettiest shortstop in baseball.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game (1949) is one of several films to feature Gene Kelly partnered with Frank Sinatra. I am a huge fan of both performers, so I love these movies. On the Town (1949) and Anchors Aweigh (1945) are on my list of favorite Gene Kelly films, and the Gene Kelly Blogathon (hosted by the Classic Movie Blog Association) gave me an excuse (in case I needed one) to explore the third in the series. If you’re interested, there is a film collection on DVD.  What’s more, TCM’s Summer Under the Stars is honoring Gene Kelly today in recognition of his one hundredth birthday, and that just fills my heart with glee.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game portrays the adventures of Dennis Ryan (Sinatra) and Eddie O’Brien (Kelly), two baseball players doubling as a vaudeville act. They help lead the Wolves through championship years and provide musical entertainment everywhere they go. In addition to Kelly and Sinatra, this film features Esther Williams (the Million Dollar Mermaid), Betty Garrett, Edward Arnold, and Jules Munshin as the fantastic character Goldberg. Entertaining connections: Betty Garrett also plays Brunhilde Esterhazy (a cab driver who has a thing for Frank Sinatra’s character “Chip”) in On the Town, and played in Neptune’s Daughter with Esther Williams. Betty Garrett gets to spend a lot of time chasing Frank Sinatra. That’s all I’m going to say about that.

Seriously–entertainment EVERYWHERE. I really did like this number, too.

Williams plays K.C. Higgens, who has just inherited ownership of the team and knows more about baseball than they would think and has more opinions than they would like. Too bad she’s beautiful …  Yet again, we watch Gene Kelly teach Frank Sinatra about attracting the opposite sex. Naturally, Higgens and O’Brien end up falling in love and endure a complicated courtship. Ryan falls in love with her, too, but Shirley (Garrett) manages to win his affections in the end, and believe me, she earns it.

As you might expect, Ryan and O’Brien perform the famous “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” (the 1927 version, not the 1908, if you’re astute enough to know the difference. I wasn’t so knowledgeable, but I know a lot about using Google–I looked it up). My other favorite number was “O’Brien to Ryan to Goldberg,” depicting their famous double-play strategy that’s the key to their victories. The number is catchy and  entertaining, even if you are a blasphemer, like myself, who doesn’t particularly care for baseball. It’s all about the rhythm, and I tend to love Gene Kelly’s trio numbers, anyway (“Good Morning,” anyone?). They may not all be as famous as his other routines, but I enjoy them quite well.

O’Brien to Ryan to Goldberg! The triangle that trumps the diamond!

Interestingly, several songs were deleted from the film: one of Frank Sinatra crooning to Shirley (which makes me kind of sad, but it was deemed “too slow”) and “Baby Doll,” which features a bizarre dance number between Kelly and Williams that could easily have inspired the toy routine in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1968) and is just plain weird in this film. Removing Sinatra crooning is just wrong, but they did spare us the somewhat awkward (in the context of the film) number that did no justice to the dancing talent. For this reason, I give the editing 3.5 stars.

Despite re-running many elements amongst each other, I love the films in this series. Each one is its own delight. Overall, I have to say I prefer the sailor films to baseball, but this is one is still a lot of fun. We get the pleasure of the singing Sinatra and dancing Gene Kelly, which is what matters most. Gene Kelly performs with his usual charm and enthusiasm. He plays a character that would be obnoxious, except that he’s Gene Kelly. He often plays these characters, and I cannot help but love them. It doesn’t seem to matter if the musical numbers are excellent (think Singin’ in the Rain) or maybe longer than they needed to be (this film did have some of those, I’m sorry to say)–watching him dance makes you want to join him. If you could keep up. Which I can’t. It’s pure joy onscreen every time.

No matter what he’s doing, you just know it’s Gene Kelly. I have strolled through a room, glanced at the television, and known that it was a Gene Kelly piece–even without knowing the film. He brings all of his “Kelly-ness” to everything. You have to appreciate that sort of thing.

This film is a winner when you want something light and frivolous. It’s a good choice for a Memorial Day or Fourth of July film that’s a little different, since it is baseball after all, and it does have some patriotic undertones and a patriotic number. Perhaps it’s cliche, but I think I would definitely recommend this one with a hot dog, chased by peanuts and Cracker Jacks.

 

This post has a double function: as a contribution to the Gene Kelly Centennial Blogathon hosted by the Classic Movie Blog Association, and as another entry in the 2012 TCM SUTS blogathon hosted by Sittin’ on a Backyard Fence and ScribeHard on Film. Share the Gene Kelly love with everyone you know today!

Falling in love with Gene Kelly is just so hard to do (… not).

Joe: “We’re trying to tell a story with music, and song, and dance. Well, not just with words. For instance, if the boy tells the girl that he loves her, he just doesn’t say it, he sings it.”
Jane: “Why doesn’t he just say it?”
Joe: “Why? Oh, I don’t know, but it’s kind of nice.”

Jane Falbury (Judy Garland), part of a long and proud lineage of Falbury farmers, struggles to make ends meet: the farm is not doing as well as in years past, and her farmhands have decided to leave for better-paying jobs. One day, her aspiring actress sister, Abigail (Gloria De Haven) comes home with a full theater troupe in tow. Abigail has promised her beau, Joe Ross (Gene Kelly), the director of the group, that they could use the barn to rehearse and stage their new musical production. Despite Jane’s better judgment–and the objections of her housekeeper, Esme (Marjorie Main), her longtime fiance Orville (Eddie Bracken), and his overbearing father (Ray Collins)–she allows them to stay, provided the members of the troupe help out around the farm.

In the wake of a disastrous barn dance overrun by the theater troupe–and after Joe’s buddy, bumbling Herb Blake (Phil Silvers), inadvertently destroys Jane’s new tractor–she decides to order the group away. But Jane is touched when the actors pool their meager funds and Joe sells his station wagon to buy her a new tractor. She again agrees to let them stay, and gradually finds herself falling in love with Joe, even though he has an understanding with Abigail, and she remains reluctantly engaged to Orville. But when Abigail develops a diva-like attitude and runs off to Broadway with the musical’s star (Hans Conried), Jane is thrust into the starring role opposite Joe, and the two of them can no longer deny their feelings as the show goes on …

Summer Stock (1950) was a notoriously difficult and troubled production, but as a product of the MGM musical dream factory, naturally none of this turmoil showed onscreen. As filming commenced, Judy Garland had just left rehab (which she had entered in an effort to quell her drug addiction), and was still considered something of a risk–with good reason, as her erratic behavior and habitual lateness had previously cost her roles in films such as The Barkleys of Broadway (1949) and Annie Get Your Gun (1950). The shoot eventually ran overlong (a total of six months). The movie marked her final film for longtime home studio MGM; she was fired from Royal Wedding (1951) later that year, terminating her contract.

In completing Summer Stock, Garland was fortunate to have the support of her friends, including studio head Louis B. Mayer (who kept her in the role despite the troubles she presented) and her male lead, Gene Kelly. The film marks the third and final onscreen pairing for Garland and Kelly; the two first appeared together in Kelly’s screen debut, 1942′s For Me and My Gal, and then co-starred in The Pirate six years later. By most accounts, Garland and Kelly got on well; according to Garland biographer John Fricke, Kelly (who remained grateful for the help seasoned film actress Garland gave him on the set of Gal) agreed to do the film primarily as a favor to the actress, and in the process brought his own touch to the production. Though Nick Castle was credited as the dance director for the film, some of the best numbers from the film (notably “You, Wonderful You” and its reprises) were very obviously choreographed by Kelly.

You, Wonderful You” is the cornerstone musical piece of the film, marking the evolution of the love story between Jane and Joe. Its initial appearance in the film occurs as Jane first begins to open up to Joe, and its staging is quite similar to “You Were Meant for Me” in Singin’ in the Rain (1952)–the two characters on an empty stage, lit by soft spotlights as the male lead sings of his love, before segueing into a delicate pas de deux. It’s lovemaking, set to music–beautiful, heartfelt, emotional–and Kelly’s relatively soft, romantic performance here is nothing short of mesmerizing (let’s face facts: the man’s a veritable dreamboat).

Kelly revisits “You, Wonderful You” (sans lyrics) in the famous “newspaper number,” a dance that demonstrates the full depths of the actor’s charm. Accompanied at first only by the squeak of a floorboard, the scratch of a newspaper on the floor, his own tapping shoes, and an intermittent whistling reprise of the tune, Kelly constructs an intricate solo ballet.

Initially, he makes his own music through the motions of his body and the instrumentation of his props, but as Kelly gives himself full over to the sheer joy of movement, the orchestra creeps in, rising into a crescendo of sound that mimics the increasingly frenetic pacing of the dance. This number perfectly captures Kelly’s innate understanding of the importance of lighting and staging in conveying the meaning of the dance to the audience; when Kelly jumps atop a stack of boxes and dances alongside his shadow cast on the nearby wall, the lovely contrast between light and dark, man and shadow, reflects Kelly’s inner turmoil over his growing feelings for Jane (in this way, it could be said that Kelly’s dance with the newspaper is at least somewhat reminiscent of his dance with his own reflection in 1944′s Cover Girl).

The other memorable number from Summer Stock (one which was not designed by either Kelly or Castle, but instead by the film’s director, Charles Walters), “Get Happy,” had been added to the film three months after shooting was completed, as a showpiece for a magically slimmed-down Garland. And yes, though it’s been harped on repeatedly over the years, one must admit that the actress’ appearance in this scene is a little jarring, considering she was noticeably heavier in her previous (and subsequent) scenes. Still, Garland’s performance in “Get Happy” has become legendary in its own right, and marks one of the best musical numbers of her career (which is saying something, considering how many iconic moments she has given us).

Admittedly, Summer Stock is largely a Judy Garland vehicle–it was designed that way, after all, as a kind of comeback after a couple of trying years for the actress. But Kelly’s contributions are equally important–if not more so–to the film’s success. Had Garland’s original intended co-star in the film, Mickey Rooney, played the part of Joe, we might not now remember this movie as one of the great classic musicals. It took the extra-special touch of Gene Kelly’s brilliant, bold choreography (not to mention his delightfully cheeky grin and … other endowments) and that sparkling chemistry with Garland to make Summer Stock the wholly entertaining film that it remains to this day.

 

This post is an entry in the Gene Kelly Centennial Blogathon, hosted by the Classic Movie Blog Association. Visit the CMBA site for a full list of participants.

Singin’ again (plus a giveaway!).

 

In the wake of the glorious success of last month’s nationwide theater screenings of Singin’ in the Rain (1952), NCM Fathom, Turner Classic Movies, and Warner Bros. have teamed up once again to bring the movie back to theaters for an encore–and on the eve of star Gene Kelly’s 100th birthday, no less!

From the press release:

Back by popular demand, Singin’ in the Rain is returning to movie theaters for one final showing on August 22nd at 7:00 PM (local time)–just in time to catch this special event with the family before school is back in session!

NCM Fathom Events, Turner Classic Movies, and Warner Bros. are excited to bring the “Greatest Musical of All-Time” back to movie theaters for one final showing on August 22nd. Don’t miss your last chance to see this American classic back on the big screen!

The event begins with a Turner Classic Movies original production featuring TCM host Robert Osborne in an exclusive, specially-produced interview with star Debbie Reynolds. In this interview, audiences are taken behind the scenes of one of the greatest musicals of all time as Ms. Reynolds shares memories of working with the late great Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor and more.

Immediately following these exclusive behind-the-scenes extras, be carried away by the songs, story, and romance of one of the greatest musicals of all time–Singin’ in the Rain–as it graces the silver screen for one night only, fully re-mastered and more beautiful than ever before! Tickets for the first event went quickly, with many sold-out theaters across the country. Tickets for the encore are on sale NOW, so get them soon before they’re gone.

True Classics’ own Sarah attended the screening in Atlanta last month, and she can tell you that it’s an experience you don’t want to miss. You can find participating theaters near you and purchase tickets at the Fathom website.

Or …

You could win a pair of tickets right now, from the gang here at True Classics, courtesy of NCM Fathom!

The rules are simple: just send us an email at trueclassicsblog (at) gmail (dot) com with the subject “I want Singin’ tickets!” and you’ll be entered into a random drawing to win a pair of tickets for the theater of your choice in your area. 

Easy enough, right? We have three sets of tickets to give away, and we’re accepting entries until Monday, August 13th, at 7PM CST. Winners will be notified by email Monday evening.

Are you excited for another chance to see Singin’ in all its big-screen glory?

Discussing All-American Co-Ed.

 

Last year, Brandie found a cheap collection of random classic musicals (mainly from the 1940s) and gave it to Carrie as part of her Christmas present. Though the collection features a number of well-known classic Hollywood stars, most of the films are relatively obscure, and the prints are admittedly not the best quality (considering all of the movies have lapsed into the public domain, this is not really surprising). The most well-known film in the collection is probably the Fred Astaire-Jane Powell musical Royal Wedding (1951).

A few months ago, Carrie started working her way through the discs, and when she came across one 1941 film in particular, the unadulterated WTF-ery filling that movie led to a very entertaining series of text messages between Brandie and Carrie. When the True Classics crew gathered in Birmingham recently for a movie-filled girls’ weekend, Carrie brought the DVD along and we all marveled at its utter strangeness.

In the spirit of last year’s discussion on the equally WTF-ery-filled musical Cinderella Jones (1946), Carrie and Brandie bring you All-American Co-Ed: A Viewing Experience.

Brandie: So. This was an … interesting movie.

Carrie: To say the least. You should have been ME the first time I saw it.

Brandie: I already know the answer to this question, but for the sake of our readers–what were your initial impressions?

Carrie: “Oh, my God, what is this?” When I first started watching, I didn’t catch that it was about cross-dressing. I was just paying slight attention to the “showgirls” in the opening scene—I was getting ready for bed at the time. I knew from the description on the DVD case that it was about a girls’ college—the names of the schools, “Mar Brynn” and “Quinceton,” were listed. But it took me a moment to notice that the “girls” looked rather manly … and that the lead singer wasn’t even trying to sing in falsetto.

Brandie: Before we go any further, I guess I should interrupt you here so we can set up the plot so folks know what we’re talking about. Although even with a plot synopsis, it’s pretty hard to see where the movie’s going, because it moves so fast and character development is nil. But would you like to explain what’s going on in this film, Carrie?

Carrie: Damn it. I knew you were going to ask me to do this part. Okay. In a nutshell, the headmistress of Mar Brynn, Mrs. Collinge (Esther Dale) is trying to increase her enrollment. She and her press agent, Hap Holden (Harry Langdon) hatch a plan to offer twelve scholarships to “twelve unusual girls.” By “unusual,” they mean “twelve beauty queens,” which I found very weird. Being a horticultural school, they choose “queens” of various agricultural industries. To top it off, they publicly insult the Quinceton Zetas (who are noted for their musical revues, which they perform in drag). Reading this, the Zetas devise a plan to humiliate Mar Brynn by sending in a female impersonator as a scholarship recipient. So Bob (Johnny Downs) “wins” and is admitted to Mar Brynn as “Bobbie,” the Queen of the Flowers. Unfortunately, Bob almost immediately falls in love with the headmistress’ niece, Virginia (Frances Langford). What ensues is a misguided courtship attempt, silk pajama sing-alongs, and possibly the most disturbing agricultural pageant ever conceived. For the rest, you just have to watch the movie and see for yourself.

Brandie: Yes. We didn’t call this an “experience” for nothing. For only being forty-eight minutes long—yes, forty-eight minutes—this film packs a lot of insanity. It is one of the more entertaining B-musicals of the 1940s, if only for its outlandish plot. Out of all the movies in that DVD collection, what drew you to this one to watch first? Is the girls’ school element what first attracted you to the film?

Carrie: Well, naturally, that was a big part of it. Then I saw that they were also making fun of “Quinceton,” and the thinly-veiled references to those real-life schools were entertaining. What were your initial thoughts?

Brandie: When I received your text messages during the movie, I thought, “Surely she is exaggerating.” But then again, you are not prone to over-exaggeration, so I started to wonder what the hell kind of rabbit hole I’d sent you tumbling through by giving you this movie. And when we finally watched it together—oh, holy hell, this movie is weird and wonderful.

Notice they misspelled the name of their own school …

Carrie: I really love the scene in the beginning when they hatch their plot in the frat house, and you meet all the brothers. Especially the one who does impersonations for no reason whatsoever—

Brandie: Other than the fact that he’s played by notable impressionist Kent Rogers. [Rogers was a Warner Bros. voice-over artist who was the original voice of Beaky Buzzard and Henery Hawk. He died in 1944 while in flight training for World War II, weeks before his 21st birthday. All-American Co-Ed marked Rogers' final onscreen appearance.]

Carrie: Right! But there’s no reason for him to be imitating Gary Cooper there! They crafted the scene around that, just for the sake of having it. It’s really strange.

Brandie: The cast as a whole is not particularly well-known, but some familiar faces pop up throughout the movie. Langford was primarily known as a popular radio star who worked with Rudy Vallee, Dick Powell, Bob Hope, and Don Ameche. Downs was mostly known for his role as Johnny in the Our Gang series in the mid-1920s (which, incidentally, was produced by Hal Roach, Sr., the father of this film’s producer).

A chap with a chip on his shoulder.

Carrie: Unfortunately, he didn’t make for a very attractive woman.

Brandie: The leads may not be well-known, but some other familiar faces pop up throughout the movie. For instance, Noah Beery, Jr. and Alan Hale, Jr. both appear in minor roles (each of them later found their own measure of fame in character parts on popular television shows–the former was the title character’s father on the 1970s series The Rockford Files, while most people today remember the latter as the Skipper on Gilligan’s Island). And Esther Dale plays the headmistress–

Carrie: Who was pretty obsessed with the size of her girls’ “tomatoes.”

Brandie: Disturbingly so. Dale is probably familiar to some folks for a number of dowager roles she played in movies like The Awful Truth (1937), Curly Top (1935), and Margie (1946). And then there’s Harry Langdon, the former silent movie star who plays the overeager press agent. At one point during the silent era, Langdon rivaled Charlie Chaplin, Harold Lloyd, and Buster Keaton for popularity, though he has not enjoyed the same level of longevity as his three counterparts.

Carrie: That character wore some very dreadful ties.

Langford, Langdon, and a real winner of a tie.

Brandie: Yeah, and they were actually some of the more tasteful accessories in the movie. Let’s just talk about those pageant costumes, huh?

Carrie: I felt so bad for the people who had to wear them. I thought that was just cruel. I think they picked the actors they liked the least to wear them—I can’t even decide which one was the worst because they were all awful. And that horrible song they had to sing about the farmer’s daughter …

Brandie: Those girls had giant pieces of fruit in places no self-respecting fruit should go.

Carrie: Pretty much.

Brandie: The actress who plays Bunny, Marjorie Woodworth, was probably the most appealing female character. It’s a shame she didn’t have a longer-lasting career. She had some entertaining moments of mild slapstick, especially the scene where she somehow manages to contract measles and then tries to escape quarantine.

Carrie: She really is the brilliant hysteric. She manages to make it funny as opposed to over-the-top. And it cracks me up to realize that everyone is essentially chasing a “bunny.”

Brandie: It does seem rather deliberate. Although I have to say, the scene where she and her fellow students are lounging on the lawn in silk pajamas during a singalong is highly unrealistic. We went to a girls’ school and never once did that. It’s like a male fantasy brought to life on film—that girls’ schools are like dens of hidden sex. Like the idea that all the girls have naked pillow fights in the dorm every night, when everybody knows we only did that on Thursdays. [Editor's note: KIDDING!]

Carrie: Well, Bob needs to be enthralled by something while he continues his masquerade.

Brandie: Most of the humor comes from the cross-dressing elements—the filmmakers seem to take particular pleasure in forcing “Bobbie” to extricate “herself” from the clutches of amorous men—one of whom is a fellow Zeta (albeit from another university).

“Go ahead and ring my bell.”

Carrie: Some elements of this film reminded me so much of Mel Brooks’ type of humor. Like the sign on the campus bell: “Pull rope and release. Bell will ring automatically.” Well, duh. It’s a bell rope. And the fact that bell “hasn’t worked in years”—how can it not work? It’s a BELL. The entire logic of the situation is skewed in a really funny way. The whole thing reminds me of the sign on the Psychoneurotic Institute for the Very, Very Nervous in High Anxiety: “Keep In” instead of “Keep Out.” It’s that same weird sense of humor.

Brandie: All I can say is, I think everyone should see this movie. It’s available in its entirety on YouTube. And, conveniently enough, TCM has scheduled All-American Co-Ed to run TOMORROW (July 18th) at 1:30PM EST! Set your DVRs, kids–you’re not going to want to miss this glorious bit of strangeness.

Carrie: This film—though it may be scarring for a vegetarian—pairs very well with a mellow pinot noir or zinfandel. Or beer. Definitely beer. Whatever you can get your hands on, really.

Brandie: Agreed. If ever a movie cried out for booze to accompany its viewing, it’s this one.

A newbie goes singin’ in the rain.

 

Thursday night, as part of a nationwide event sponsored by TCM, NCM Fathom, and Warner Bros., I had the pleasure of seeing Singin’ in the Rain (1952) on the big screen. Although I am very familiar with one of the happiest songs ever produced, I had never before seen the musical that it inspired. As it was my first time seeing the film, it was an especially exciting event, and I was not disappointed.

The film began with an introduction by Robert Osborne; he interviewed the star of this film, Debbie Reynolds. She was just as spunky as when she was eighteen and playing the role of the feisty yet innocent Kathy Selden.  She believes she received the role on account of her innocence: “There were a lot of virgins in those days,” she explained. She explained that she didn’t know how to dance when she received the part and that she trained for months and months before filming began. Watching the film, it’s hard to imagine; her performance seems flawless.

I had no idea that this film was going to be so funny! I was smiling and laughing almost the entire movie. This was truly some of the most fun I’ve ever had at the theater. I loved the scene where Don Lockwood (Gene Kelly) and Cosmo Brown (Donald O’Connor) are at a training session with a voice coach to prepare for Don’s upcoming “talkie” film. While I’m still not quite sure why they covered the voice coach with trash and furniture, I found their rhyming song charming. In fact, the entire film seemed to spew with charm. Lina Lamont (Jean Hagen), while beautiful, had the most nauseating voice. At one point in the film, when she squealed in her nasal tone, “Do they think I’m dumb or somethin’?!” a woman in the audience yelled, “Yes!” I went in assuming that people in the audience would sing along; however, the audience was fairly quiet, aside from laughter and clapping at the close of each major dance sequence. I have to say, as someone who doesn’t generally enjoy dance (it’s the Welsh in me!), I found this thoroughly entertaining. I was so impressed with the actors’ ability to stay synchronized with each other. I can only imagine how many times they had to shoot these scenes. (Debbie Reynolds complained in her interview that her shoes would often be bloody after repeating the dance sequences so many times each day during filming.)

There wasn’t a poster at the theater for SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN, but I thought this one had a similar spirit. “Gotta dance!”

Although some of the film seemed to be “filler,” it was all superbly entertaining. The “long veil” scene within the “Broadway Melody” number (while not really necessary to the film) was breathtaking. I can’t even imagine how long it took the crew and cast to nail it. Again, it seemed flawless.

I can’t say enough good things about this film. I am so grateful for the opportunity to see Singin’ in the Rain on the big screen; it has definitely found its way among my favorite films.

[Special thanks to Mallory at Pure Brand Communications and NCM Fathom for the tickets to this event!]

What a glorious feeling!

As many classic movie fans are likely aware, our television Lord and Master, Turner Classic Movies (in conjunction with Fathom and Warner Bros.) is following up this past spring’s successful nationwide theater screenings of Casablanca (1942) with a one-night-only showing of the incomparable 1952 musical Singin’ in the Rain, which will be released in a special sixtieth-anniversary edition Blu-ray on July 17th.

From the press release:

NCM Fathom, Turner Classic Movies, and Warner Bros. come together again to present the 60th Anniversary Singin’ in the Rain event, which will be held on July 12th at 7:00 p.m. local time.

The event begins with a Turner Classic Movies original production featuring TCM host Robert Osborne in an exclusive, specially-produced interview with star Debbie Reynolds. In this interview, audiences are taken behind the scenes of one of the greatest musicals of all time as Ms. Reynolds shares memories of working with the late, great Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor.

Immediately following these exclusive behind-the-scenes extras, be carried away by the songs, story, and romance of one of the greatest musicals of all time–Singin’ in the Rain–as it graces the silver screen for one night only, fully remastered and more beautiful than it has ever been before!

For more information, or to find participating theaters near you and purchase tickets, check out Fathom Events.

This event is also perfectly timed to celebrate star Gene Kelly’s centennial next month, which falls on August 23rd. If you have the chance to go, then by all means, go! Not for nothing is Singin’ considered one of (if not THE) best musicals of all time. You’re guaranteed to have a “glorious” time.

Our own Sarah will be attending a screening in Atlanta next week, and will report back about her experience here on True Classics after the show.

Tell us: have you purchased your tickets yet?

Just a small town girl.

One day, the Kimbell family of tiny Duck Creek, Connecticut, sits down for dinner after church. As patriarch Gordon (Robert Keith) says grace, they are interrupted by visitors. Wealthy Rick Belrow Livingston (Farley Granger) and his tap-dancing Broadway star girlfriend, Lisa Bellmount (Ann Miller), who are on their way to elope, have been pulled over for speeding through the town. The police bring the pair to the Kimbell home so Gordon, the town judge, can pronounce his sentence for the offense. Rick’s snooty attitude and sense of entitlement angers Gordon, and he throws the young man in jail for thirty days.

Later that night, Rick’s mother (Billie Burke) arrives in town during a box social and tries to convince Gordon to release her son. But talking to Gordon makes her realize that jail just might be the best place for him at the moment, and she leaves without Rick knowing she was even there. Meanwhile, when the box meals (and their preparers) are auctioned off to the highest bidder, Rick–who observes the entire ritual from the window in his cell–buys a meal with the reluctant Cindy Kimbell (Jane Powell), Gordon’s daughter. Like her father, Cindy heartily disapproves of Rick’s attitude, and clearly tells him so.

After a couple of days of community service and a feigned “hunger strike,” Rick eventually plays on Cindy’s sympathy and convinces her to let him leave jail for an evening to spend time with his mother. In actuality, he’s trying to get back to New York to see Lisa for her birthday. Cindy insists on tagging along, but Rick manages to ditch her at his mother’s house and heads off to see Lisa. Rick’s butler inadvertently locks Cindy in a refrigerated fur cabinet, and when Rick discovers this, he leaves Lisa and rushes to Cindy’s rescue. The two of them spend the night on the town together (in a “walking the city streets” montage that is staged quite like a similar scene in 1959′s Pillow Talk) and find that they are greatly attracted to one another.

Their end-of-the-night kiss is witnessed by Ludwig Schlemmer (Bobby Van), Cindy’s reluctant boyfriend, whose father, “Papa” Schlemmer (S.Z. “Cuddles” Sakall), has been pressuring him to propose to the girl. Ludwig is ecstatic that Cindy has apparently found a new love, because he has no desire to marry–instead, Ludwig longs to go to New York to be a dancer (against his father’s wishes). When Papa alerts Gordon to Cindy’s newfound affection for Rick, Gordon grows concerned that a relationship with Rick will not be good for his daughter. Can Rick and Cindy forge a relationship in the face of parental challenges and erstwhile beaux? And will Rick be able to adapt to a simple, small-town frame of mind, or will the lures of the “big city” cause him to leave Cindy behind and return to life as he’s always known it?

Small Town Girl (1953), directed by László Kardos, is not as well-known as other MGM musicals of the 1950s. This doesn’t mean it’s a “bad” film; in fact, despite its relative obscurity, it is somewhat appealing and features a few rather entertaining musical numbers. But the movie ultimately suffers in comparison to other MGM greats because the film’s purported stars, Jane Powell and Farley Granger, are actually the least interesting characters in the film: their romance is somewhat bland, and the pair lacks convincing chemistry. Though Powell is, as always, a lovely presence, Granger is not particularly known for his singing or dancing prowess, so his leading a musical is rather odd (the only number he “performs” in the film is a made-up verse set to the tune of “Frère Jacques”). Reportedly, Van Johnson and Peter Lawford were also in contention for the role; their casting would probably have made more sense, and might have resulted in a memorable duet or two with the musically-adept Powell.

Instead, Bobby Van is the undisputed star of the picture. His Ludwig is joyous and goofy, a long-limbed, freewheeling, energetic bundle of fun with an adorable Cary Grant impersonation. The most famous sequence in the film is probably Van’s exhausting and exhilarating “hopping dance” through town after Cindy rejects his proposal. The entire scene–choreographed by the famed Busby Berkeley–appears to be a continuous long take, though there are four subtle cuts at various points during the number. Still, it is an amazing feat of athleticism and staging, not just on Van’s part–which is impressive enough, with a series of two-footed hops that he must have felt for WEEKS afterward in his knees and ankles–but also with the careful coordination of hundreds of extras, automobiles, and even a dancing dog! The music that accompanies this sequence is an almost entirely wordless reprise of “Take Me to Broadway,” which Van performs in full earlier in the film, indicating that Cindy’s rejection is the impetus that will send the young dancer straight to the Great White Way no matter what Papa says. [Note that in the background of this scene, there is a billboard advertising another MGM production, 1952's The Merry Widow, starring Lana Turner, which had been released the autumn before this film.]

Another wonderful musical interlude comes courtesy of Miller (as if they would put her in a musical and not let her show off her stuff!), whose arguably best moment in the film comes in her performance of “I’ve Gotta Hear That Beat.” It’s a beautifully-staged number, opening with a sole spotlight on the black-clad Miller, singing and tap-dancing up a storm. As the camera pulls away and the stage lights come up, we see the members of the orchestra–or rather, we see their disembodied hands, playing their instruments through the floor of the stage as Miller shimmies and taps her way around them (well, the drummers and the stringed instruments are playing; the saxophonists and the clarinetists merely hold their instruments and move their fingers in rhythm). Watching Miller circle endlessly through her accompanists is–per usual in one of her pictures–like watching poetry in motion. I will never, ever get tired of watching Miller dance in anything she does. She’s beyond brilliant.

Other notable members of the cast include Nat King Cole, playing himself as he serenades the newly-infatuated Cindy and Rick with “My Flaming Heart” (which was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Song); Fay Wray, as Cindy’s level-headed mother; character actor Robert Keith as Judge Kimbell; Billie Burke as Rick’s flighty yet caring mother (whose pink, floofy gown in the “birthday” scene is greatly reminiscent of Burke’s Glinda costume from 1939′s The Wizard of Oz); and, of course, longtime True Classics fave “Cuddles” Sakall, who brings his usual level of befuddled charm to the role of Ludwig’s nosy father. One more notable star almost joined the cast before his untimely early death–country singer Hank Williams was supposed to make his screen debut in this film as Duck Creek’s sheriff, but sadly passed away in early 1953, four months before the movie’s release.

I find it almost impossible to talk about Small Town Girl without mentioning the sometimes heavy-handed religious thread that runs throughout the movie. The film is bookended by scenes in a church–it opens with Cindy performing a solo, and ends with Rick and his mother sitting in the pews, watching Cindy and the choir sing a chorus of “Hallelujah” while she beams at her new love with pride. There is a not-so-implicit Christian message of redemption in the film–in essence, the bad boy who is made good by the love of a good woman and a good town. Duck Creek is painted as a kind of idyllic Utopia, separate from the negative influences of the big city, with its fast women, loose morality, and dependence upon consumerism. And yet at the same time, the movie celebrates Ludwig’s desire to leave the small town to conquer Broadway–only Papa condemns his choice, though in the end he, too, gives in. Ultimately, the message of the film is compromised by its attempts to at once vilify and celebrate the world that Rick eventually chooses to leave behind. Are we to assume that, because Ludwig grew up in Duck Creek, he will bring his unfailing morality to the big city and “clean up the joint” (so to speak), when, in all likelihood, Ludwig becoming a Broadway star will likely mean corruption of that very moral compass (if we’re talking in realistic terms, that is) …?

That little quibble aside, Small Town Girl is definitely worth a viewing. It may be a minor entry in the spectacular MGM catalog, but even a “minor” MGM musical is admittedly better than half the films to come out of the classic Hollywood era. They’re just that entertaining, and this one is especially blessed by a fantastic supporting cast. Try taking your eyes off Bobby Van once he gets to hopping. I daresay you’ll find it impossible to look away!

A classic time in Atlanta.

On Thursday night, Carrie and Nikki and I (along with our friend Brindha) converged in Atlanta for the TCM Road to Hollywood screening of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954). Nikki arrived first and, despite the packed-to-the-gills house, was able to secure us seats in the third row on the right side of the stage. And it turned out that we had excellent seats, as host Robert Osborne emerged from the back of the auditorium and walked down the aisle, pausing in front of us for a moment before taking the stage.

A few minutes later, the film’s star, Jane Powell, skipped down the aisle, charming the entire audience with her vivacity and spirit. At 82 years young, Powell is still just as beautiful as in her Hollywood heyday, with a set of gams that instantly invoke envy (as she told us later, she owes her lithe figure to Pilates and walking the streets of New York City!).

After a short discussion, Osborne and Powell took questions from the audience, and then we settled in to watch the film. Granted, it wasn’t the best print of the film–the color was off in parts, and in several sections, the film actually skipped a few seconds. But overall, it was wonderful to see this musical staged on the big screen, where it belongs. And the audience really got into the movie, laughing uproariously and sometimes singing along to the songs or quoting favorite lines out loud. It made for a really interesting communal movie-watching experience–a rare thing these days, indeed.

The TC crew: Nikki, Carrie, and Brandie, with Jill

After the show, we were able to meet Jill (also known as “kittenbiscuits“), the talented blogger behind Sittin’ on a Backyard Fence and the new classic film site The Cinementals, where you can read Jill’s reflections on the Seven Brides experience.

Overall, it was a wonderful experience, and well worth the trip! Thanks to TCM for scheduling the Road to Hollywood series for those of us who cannot make the trip to the annual TCM Classic Film Festival in Hollywood in April. It brings a little bit of the glamour and excitement our way, and for that, we classic film fans can only be grateful.