The Musicals List REDUX

[matrixschmatrix]

I'm starting off the Lubitsch Musicals set with The Smiling Lieutenant- it starts kind of slow, but between the dirtiest egg-frying shot I've ever seen and the outright mockery of the whole idea of royalty, it picks up fast. By the time Chevalier is conning the shit out of everyone in his weird little trial, I knew this was going to be good.

Are all of his musicals this fun?

[knives]

The Love Parade is my favorite and Monte Carlo deserves a lot of applause, but I wouldn't rate any of them as particularly great.

[matrixschmatrix]

Well, I'm glad to hear this one wasn't the best of the bunch- it certainly had its moments, but it didn't sustain the pace it would have needed to be really fun. I'm a bit worried, since I thought one of the problem parts was Chevalier himself, who seemed irritatingly self satisfied at least as often as he seemed charming- and evidently, he's in three out of the four of these.

[Matt]

Knives aside, many do think it is the best of the bunch.

[domino harvey]

I'm with knives, Love Parade and Monte Carlo are infinitely better than the Smiling Lieutenant and One Hour With You

[PillowRock]

Well, I mean, actual Lena Horne movies like Stormy Weather or Cabin in the Sky

But all-black casts / "race pictures" were an entirely different thing. I would consider it to have been, in most respects, an entirely separate industry from the "mainstream Hollywood" that produced such things as Showboat ('51).

[Shrew]

The Love Parade is by far my favorite of the Lubitsch musicals. The opening 10 minutes are wonderful, utilizing the possibilities of sound for a quick array of gags all so subtle that it's easy to forget how sophisticated it is for the time. Of course, the rest of the film sags in spots and the ending is damnably frustrating. Pacing is a problem in all of these, and this being the longest it sticks out the most. I'd take Lieutenant after this personally, with Monte Carlo and One Hour With You quite far behind.

Chevalier of course is a huge, obnoxious ham, but there's a self-awareness that makes him somehow charming. I'll take him and his cheesy grins any day over Dick Powell, whose smile I find so fucking creepy it gives me nightmares.

And again, if you can stand Chevalier at all and enjoy MacDonald in these it is absolutely necessary to check out Love Me Tonight, which features better music and a much quicker pace thanks to Mamoulien's visual experimentation.

[tarpilot]

BROADWAY MELODY OF 1936 Roy Del Ruth & W.S. Van Dyke, 1935
I was all primed to track this down after zedz and Matt’s posts about it, until I was finishing unpacking my DVDs the other night (I moved in two months ago; I’m exceptionally lazy) and realized I completely forgot I bought it last year in a two-pack with ’38 (except I paid eight bucks for it at a supermarket! suckers). So away I went! “I've Got a Feeling You're Fooling” is an enchanting bit of invention that makes good use of a number of cheap but effective tricks with the film’s set and breaks down the reality of the proceedings in the style of some of the more fantastical Berkeley numbers, but Eleanor Powell is, of course, the real star. Her rooftop shuffle with Buddy and Vilma Ebsen is a delightful introduction to her talents, in part because the Ebsens themselves are such a treat. Buddy has such a pleasingly silly and malleable litheness to his movements, and his kind of half-cocked smile is able to seem both warmly welcoming and vaguely unsettling. He’s a very interesting performer. All in all, a wonderful film and currently hovering around my number ten spot.

BROADWAY MELODY OF 1938 Roy Del Ruth, 1937
Many of the numbers here drag well past the point of their natural conclusion, but in charming, easily appreciable ways: the first bit with George Murphy, Buddy Ebsen, and Eleanor Powell on the traincar quickly degenerates into the three of them just fucking around with whatever props they can find in an instance of pure infectious joy, and Powell and Murphy have a duet tap in the park that stands as a marvel of movement, as wondrous as anything Fred Astaire ever did in front of a camera. The film stops to a dead halt whenever Robert Taylor’s upstart producer talks shop with the higher-ups or tries to woo Powell, and all of the horse shit is a snooze, but there’s usually a lovably goofy number somewhere around the corner. I can’t believe they brought the snoring expert back and had him literally go on for like five minutes. Insane.

FOLLOW THE FLEET Mark Sandrich, 1936
The first non-Western Randy Scott I’ve seen, which is by far the most interesting thing about it until the superb “Let’s Face the Music and Dance”, the strength of which will probably ensure the film a spot on the lower reaches of my list. There’s a great moment early on when Fred uses a flute to get Ginger’s attention from behind and she dances half a jig on instinct before turning around and realizing it’s him, the kind moment that should have happened more often. It doesn’t help that Let It Be Me, the Freleng short included on the disc, was annoying as hell. I should really do a major Looney Tunes/Merrie Melodies viewing project sometime soon, but right now he’s the least of their directors for me for sure.

LULLABY OF BROADWAY David Butler, 1951
Unexpectedly tolerable. Good, even! The film’s effect is summarized fairly well in the centerpiece performance of the “mechanical dancers”, in that it operates chiefly with a kind of formulaic, robotic jerkiness but is still capable of small moments of invention and humour. Even if I prefer my Doris Day old and self-aware and directed by Frank Tashlin (yeah, I’m the guy who loves both Caprice and The Glass Bottom Boat), she handles the last-act dramatic beats surprisingly well, and her cross-window dance with Gene Nelson is great fun to watch. I also have a really weird thing for Anne Triola (oddly lovely in the very funny “You’re Dependable”). Maybe I just enjoy seeing S.Z. Sakall so much. I always thought he and Cecil Kellaway should have made a buddy picture of some kind. For a while I erroneously remembered Kellaway as one of the professors in Ball of Fire. Why did I think that? Hmm. But I digress. Now, someone else needs to see this and tell me if I'm insane.

[knives]

Thrill of a Romance is charming enough, but I'm glad it wasn't my introduction to Esther Williams both because it's merely okay as a film and musical and also because she doesn't get much to do. for much of the film she is playing the poor man's Jane Wyman. She gets a number of great silent moments, but none of them match the energy or fun of her character from Take Me Out to the Ball Game.

This film is the odd man out so far in this journey for a lot of reasons. The biggest of these is the relative dark aims of the story. It's a traditional romance through and through and doesn't have any of the comedy nor joy that I've experienced so far. It's much more comfortable ground for me since this is the musical I know. That's not to say this is All That Heaven Allows. The sun's bright and the characters smile often, but the plot definitely fits into that mold better than say the one in Calamity Jane.

Of course I suppose calling it a musical is a tiny stretch. There are a few musical numbers, but they never break the fourth wall nor do they contribute much to the story. It's just there to be there almost (the worst offender of this uselessness has to be that little kid). The music is nice, but I truly wish that it had purpose. This is easily the weak spot in an otherwise enjoyable lark.

On the very other hand I also watched the first episode of Pennies From Heaven and I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it surely wasn't this. I mean I should have expected the BBC aesthetic to the cinematography, but wow did that hit hard. Tape's such an ugly thing, but here it's done as well as is possible and there's in fact a number of truly beautiful images like the introduction to the first song.

Speaking of which I would have never expected the musical part of the musical to be like that. I knew about the usage of popular songs, but I thought they would be covers so when Hoskins spreads his arms, opens his mouth, and starts singing with a woman's voice I was dumbfounded to say the least. I'm a bit disappointed that the novelty of him singing isn't there, but this is a bit genius now that I think about it. It plays with nostalgia in an odd way since the story itself doesn't really seem to contain that, but the use of music instantly threw me into the past. I'm really curious how the subsequent episodes will deal with this jarring effect.

An other really odd bit was that voice over or at least I think it was a voice over. I suppose that and several other things remind me heavily of Lynch. Especially the wife's first song is eerily reminiscent of him. The cutting is just the same and when they do pull out all of the stops for the look of the film it does have a glorious otherworldly feel to it.

I'm still very much in the dark naturally, but given how much this first part lacks story I suspect those ethereal qualities is what's punching up my anticipation. It's like reading a Cain novel. Nothing goes down for the longest time, yet things feel more dangerous for it. The skinny salesman in particular gives me the heepy-jeepies. He just has this Gottfried John look to him that I can't trust.

All of the performances are great too and live up to that '50s style that the Lynch mentions should leave as self explanatory. I especially liked the not Chris Elliott musician that Hoskins picks up. He looks terrifying, but there's something essentially trustworthy to his character which probably means he's going to end up a villain. Speaking of that, I must have zoned out because I have no clue what caused the bug song with the women and knives.

To make another jump, though a much smaller one, I've gotten my second taste of Minnelli and The Pirate is just as weird if far superior to A Matter of Time. This film similarly has a great sense of setting with a gorgeous use of colours, but the acting and characters on display are far superior.

The best of these improvements is Gene Kelly giving what has to be my favorite performance of his yet. He's so gross and hammy that he never fails to amuse. It's like they resurrected a particularly creepy John Barrymore just for this role. During Nina (which is a tour de force number in itself) alone I was laughing so hard I could have busted my nose. He walks that line between credible character and clown perfectly.

While not matching Kelly the other performances are equally great. The closest to a weak link is Garland who just sticks out like a sore thumb for me. I'm not sure how much this is her or the character, but she seems to be performing for a different more uptight character. I guess for how it's written I was hoping for more Dorothy and less Vicki Lester. That said after a while I got used to her and I think that at worst the performance didn't hurt the movie any. At the very least her style of performance clashes with Kelly like lava and water. Naturally though her specialty is in the musical numbers and there's nothing but praise I have for her there. Every single number just knocked me out and to the floor. There's a strength in those performances that is rarely met. On the strength of any one of those numbers I'd recommend this to a hundred people. It's just impossible to turn away from the teevee when she begins to sing. Actually now that I think about it 3her performance is great, but I didn't get where they were coming from initially.

As to the support, which really never gets the time to shine. I enjoyed it all even if they tended to be heavily on the peripheral. In particular the aunt was humourously shrill like a Wodehouse character. In characterization my favorite part about all three of those characters is that they are never really villains. From their clearly illustrated POV they can even be heroic at times. That doesn't prevent them from being villainous, but it allows them to be surprisingly three dimensional. Shockingly I think Kelly's confrontation with Don Pedro may be the emotional highlight at least for me. The acting is where everything is sold and I'm about to buy icecubes.

That leads into an other shock (I hope this isn't going on too long) that of the strength of the story. So far the musicals from this period really don't have a story or at least one that matters, but here the stakes are high and real. Minnelli does a great job of convincing that the film may turn left even as I knew it inevitably had to turn right. Part of that is how wrong turning right should be. Kelly's a bit of a monster if a charming one so the film becomes more about convincing us that turning right is, well, the right thing to do. That's a genius idea and something I wish more romances did. This diffuses care about the ending and more about if that ending is right. It's a tough juggling act, but one that is done perfectly here. At least for today The Pirate is my new gold standard for romances.

That's not to degrade the musical qualities of the film which are simply amazing (than again when you have Cole Porter coming up with your music you need to screw up badly for it to be less than that). There's not a number here that is less than perfect with the music and the visuals in constant battle for supremacy. One upping the other until the film is a cavalcade of cinema's finest. I suppose I should stop there before my hyperbole goes any further.

[zedz]

Great comments, knives.

If you think Pennies from Heaven is dark after the first episode, better stock up on the anti-depressants! And don't forget that the series pre-dates the 'Lynchian' Lynch you're referring to.

At the very least her style of performance clashes with Kelly like lava and water.

I'm very fond of The Pirate, and since it's so much about performance, I think the larger-than-life personae help the film. I also suspect that clash of styles was a conscious choice by the actors and Minnelli, or an unconscious effect of Minnelli's relationship with Garland, since Kelly and Garland have quite a different and much more intimate screen chemistry in For Me and My Gal (Berkeley) and Summer Stock (Walters).

[knives]

Well my little simile met to say they had steamy chemistry. It's definitely going to be high on my final list. Everything is done perfectly in it. Also I should say it's more the hints of darkness that got me with Pennies. It's still the opening scene of Blue velvet so to speak. I do wonder now that you mention it if Lynch has this movie on his mind during that film.

[zedz]

Blue Velvet is an interesting film to compare with Pennies from Heaven, and the "In Dreams" scene may be an overt tip of the hat. There's also another reasonably obvious comparison to be made with a film that will be under consideration for this list, but mentioning it before you've finished the series would probably be a spoiler.

[knives]

You're getting my expectations up higher than the film itself man.

[Matt]

Two MGM musicals of no consequence:

Excuse My Dust (1951): I watched this solely because it was directed by Roy Rowland, director of both Hit the Deck and Two Weeks with Love, both of which I thoroughly enjoy. It started off very promising, set in "The Gay '90s" and with a bit of deadpan ironic voiceover like you get in those wonderful Tex Avery "Car of Tomorrow" and "House of Tomorrow" cartoons. Sadly, all that charm wears off pretty quickly and you get a movie about Red Skelton trying to get his "gasomobile" to run. The female lead is Sally Forrest, who had a career exclusively in B movies and bit parts on TV series. She's kind of like a blander Vera-Ellen, if you can imagine such a thing. She does have one stunning, totally out-of-the-blue number where she dances slinkily in that proto-Fosse Hermes Pan manner (think the "Lady of the Bayou" number in Hit the Deck) with a bunch of guys in tight pants hanging out on a dock. The transition to this number is worth the price of admission, as it takes place in the head of MacDonald Carey after he overhears Red Skelton say that everything will be different in 50 years, music, transportation, even clothing. Carey pictures Forrest progressing through the next 50 years of lingerie until she is dressed in a fringe skirt and tight spangled top. And then she's dancing on a dock. It's worth watching this clip if you can ever find it. I can barely remember any of the rest of the movie, even though I just watched it a few days ago.

Texas Carnival (1951): I did not expect much from this movie and yet it still failed to meet those expectations. Another Red Skelton film based on the premise that he and Esther Williams, who are carnies, get mistaken for a Texas oil baron and his sister. It's 76 minutes long, bears obvious marks of entire scenes deleted, and it's still too long by half. It hits all the marks you expect: Esther Williams swims, Red Skeleton gets drunk, Ann Miller tap dances on top of a lot of stuff, and Howard Keel sings a song on a horse, but none of it's any good and the sum of its parts is even worse. It's probably the worst movie I have seen yet for this project and I'll be shocked to see it surpassed. That said, it's probably the favorite movie of someone on this forum.

Both of these movies climax in interminable races (early automobiles and chuck wagons, respectively) in which anything that can go wrong to Red Skelton and his vehicle in a race does, yet he still wins. Oops, spoiler alert. It must have worked in some movie if they kept doing it again and again. Anyway, I do kind of enjoy exploring the dark recesses of MGM's musical output, but the return on investment can be pretty slim. It definitely helps calibrate your critical compass, though.

[knives]

I don't know how much of my enjoyment of Once is just enjoying the music, but so what? If I were to start complimenting the film oddly enough I think it would look a lot like my complaints for Show Boat. Everything but the music is paper thin almost to the point of of existing, but this ghostly impression haunts the mind. The scenes of walking and mumbled speech don't seem to matter, but they melt into the songs in such a way as to give them meaning. I wouldn't describe it as a great film, but it's definitely worth at least the watch.

I guess today's unusual musical day for me though this time no character seems to be singing. In contrast to Once the totally opposite One From the Heart give a lot to talk about though naturally not all of it's good. It's a real slow mover, I think the first ten minutes are just the opening credits for instance, where the characters come off as caricatures of someone writing real people.

That's not to say there isn't things to like about the film. As oddly written as they are the central performances are endearing and rather funny. I know it's suppose to be played straight, but I'm going to treat it as a comedy because the film is so lovely that way. Forest especially kills it playing his character like Fat Tony from The Simpsons. Tari Garr likewise deals with the stereotype of her character excellently. Her's is easily the worst performance of the movie, but it's simply a joy because of how she inflects humour into all of her yelling (do characters even talk in this movie). I suspect she's the one person who knew exactly what this film was.

That said Julia gives a great performance, plays it dead straight, and turns his scenes into some truly masterful work. I believed in this movie as he was on screen and just by virtue of that I'm tempted to call this his best performance. For a few minutes here and there the movie becomes great under his wing. If only everyone else could have worked that well. Harry Dean Stanton isn't given as much to do, but he likewise gives an air of legitimacy to the whole affair. He does that quiet thing he does best even as he's forced to be boorish and loud by Coppola. It's oddly compelling to see how he subtly fights through the whole thing. As for Kinski, well she's rarely been as pretty, but it's less than a throw away part.

The one aspect of the film that is genuinely great is the cinematography and production design. It's unfortunate it's tied to such a bad movie, but the technique on display is wonderful. I love the colours the in camera techniques. This is really a fascinating use of artifice that someone more talented than I could probably write a book on it. Of particular interest is how glaringly it contrasts with the supposedly real nature of the writing. The sets and lighting at first give a similar sense of realism before bleeding away into a greater fakery than I've seen. He constantly reminds the audience that these are sets and a world of fiction. If the class element wasn't so heavily emphasized along such a horrendous attempt at real dialogue I could swear that he was trying to be meta which would be a more fruitful exercise.

The film just clashes too often to work and while all of the separate threads are interesting they don't seem to come together in a way that works. I don't know how it could work but I desperately want to see the successful version of this film.

The music as alluded to above isn't sung so much as experienced. I think it's suppose to be the two leads thoughts and it's an interesting way not to break the fourth wall directly. Of course Kinski's big number turns that theory on it's head, but it's such a great unexpected moment I don't want to mind, but it really does destroy everything the film has been trying to be up until this point. The film doesn't need to be a musical but it does enough with the songs that I'm happy it is one. Like everything else though it just doesn't work and is a more interesting idea than the execution suggests.

I don't want it to come across as if I hate the movie. It's fairly bad, but the effort and love put into it alongside the truly wonderful aspects makes it a great experience and I'm glad I watched the movie, but the failure is written on the walls. In some other world this may have been a great film, but instead you have to take that last word and replace it with effort.

Today's final and greatest bit is the second episode of Pennies From Heaven. Before I get to the serious stuff I just want to applaud Bob Hoskins for growling better than any human in the history of ever. Even when censored from television it looks like he's going to gut everyone. It's such a great performance even if it seems to have plagued everything he has done since. How it works in the context of the movie though is great because he turns from regular Hoskins in the spoken scenes to this golly man in the radiator during the musical bits. I doubt I'll ever get used to this film just because Hoskins' two faces are so drastically different yet he switches between them so cleanly.

Speaking of things that switch over for the musical numbers it's very interesting how the lighting alternates between the modes. It quickly becomes over exposed and deliberately ugly (versus teevee ugly). He does everything to push us into this alternate world during these scenes. It's like presenting the facts of the case twice. I'm tempted to say it's a Rashomon effect attempt, but it causes something different as we're bouncing from perspectives instead of repeating. Maybe I'll figure things out during the next set of episodes.

The story this time around seems closer to earth, more Cain than Lynch, but within the context of the preceding episode it's still off somehow. Hoskins seems to be falling off the rails and his wife, if I'm comprehending properly, is running from the past with good reason. I still don't know how that final musical number from last time fits into things,but it helps to make the need for escape in this episode all the more urgent. There's no where to go but down each scene seems to enforce. We still haven't arrived at the darkness but it's impossible to not see it fast approaching.

That brings me to the hardest, yet best part of the story so far. This overwhelming suffocation of what might or rather will happen that never does. When the actual murder and mayhem does happen it might be a relief for me as it will at least bring a catharsis. I haven't seen the movie adaptation, but just because it would have to lose this oppression it was doomed to failure from the start. This also goes to show something I've been thinking of for a while now. Cinema is great for comedy, horror, and other things that are best done swiftly. It is not the best medium for more dramatic pursuits though. Television with it's ability to dig under every nook and cranny with the occasional break just fixes this stuff better. I don't see what other proof (The Wire ) you need.

Getting back on the topic of just how jarring this film is I find it interesting how happy the songs chosen are. It's not like there aren't sad songs from the era, but I think this act of jarring is the most deliberate. The film seems to be about the past and how not all deeds done are good so having and connecting these happy songs with this dark world breaks the mystique of nostalgia. Hopefully this idea too I can expand on next time.

[Matt]

Every time I watch The Pirate, I like it less. I know it was made under difficult conditions (looking at you, Miss Garland), but I just find so much of it unpleasant to watch: Gene Kelly's eye-rolling, mustache-twirling, theatrical performance (though, as zedz points out, it's entirely intentional, which somehow makes it worse: a ham doing a caricature of a ham); Judy's wild shifts in character; Walter Slezak's huffing and puffing; those tossed-off Cole Porter songs (though, granted, he does manage to rhyme "seen ya" with "neurasthenia" in the otherwise dreadful "Nina"). Maybe I've just become too familiar with its occasional pleasures ("Mack the Black," the pirate ballet) and too aware of its flaws, but I couldn't even find a place for it on a list of 50. But it will get plenty of votes without my help.

[knives]

We have nothing in common do we?

[Matt]

I'm beginning to think we won't have a single shared film on our lists. But I keep hoping that once you start watching good musicals and stop wallowing in mediocrity (Show Boat, Anchors Aweigh, Hello Dolly, One from the Heart), you'll come around to my point of view.

But seriously, this is the whole point of these kinds of exercises, to sample the tastes of each member and see what we all end up agreeing on. It would be dull if we all just agreed out of convention that Singin' in the Rain is the best musical, end of discussion. I look forward to us stumbling upon the one musical we agree is fantastic.

In the meantime, just imagine Charles Coburn popping his monocle every time you post in this thread and that will be me.

[knives]

Rewatching My Sister Eileen with Dom's comments in mind and it is a far better film than I first gave it credit to. In fact I don't know how I missed it everything seems so obvious, blunt even now. I especially like the play of of Eileen's situation with Garrett's. It's not like Eileen has an easy life, but Garrett's been trained to envy her through this perceived status. It's still far from a great movie to me, but maybe later it will grow even more on me.

[matrixschmatrix]

Singin' in the Rain is the best musical, end of discussion.

[domino harvey]

Singin' in the Rain is the best musical, end of discussion.

Nah, and nah

[knives]

Really big nah. More like worst (seriously why put a bad dancer against Kelly?)

[domino harvey]

Don't let's get ridiculous-- it's one of the greatest musicals, just not The Greatest

[knives]

Agree to disagree.

[Murdoch]

Seriously, just see Lili.