On the Town (1949) **

I’m a sucker for a good musical, but there’s one particular aspect of a Gene Kelly musical that I rather don’t like: the soliloquy dance number.  I can forgive the “Singin’ in the Rain” soliloquy because it’s absolutely breathtaking to watch, but the soliloquies in his two other notable musicals, An American in Paris (1951) and On the Town (1949),  really rankle me.  Kelly was an amazing dancer and choreographer, and so I understand that he wanted to show off his immense skills, but these interludes in the action come off, at least to me, as vanity projects that don’t always mesh with the overall productions in which they appear.  This is one of the reasons that I’m not more of a fan of On the Town—the other reason is that other than Betty Garrett’s hilarious turn as Hildy and Ann Miller’s fantastic song-and-dance number, “Prehistoric Man”, I wasn’t overly impressed by anything else. In my opinion, Leonard Bernstein’s music and Roger Edens, Adolph Green, and Betty Comden’s lyrics are rather pedestrian.  Perhaps this is musical heresy, but after Miller finishes her awesome tap dance at the end of “Prehistoric Man” I could have happily stopped watching the movie and been quite happy.

Kelly co-directed On the Town with Stanley Donen, whom he would go on to make probably the greatest musical ever, Singin’ in the Rain (1952). While they are regaled for the their innovative dance numbers, they should also be remembered as the first directors to shoot a musical number on location.  As On the Town is about three sailors who go on shore leave for one day in New York City, Kelly thought it only right that the film be shot on location.  Of course, this was not a cost-effective way to shoot a musical (or any film for that matter), especially when MGM had an entire lot of studios that had been good enough for countless other musicals, most notably, The Wizard of Oz (1939).  Yet, Kelly persisted and eventually got the green light to shoot nine days’ worth of footage of the sailors visiting various landmarks in NYC, as well as the opening (and closing) number, “New York, New York”.  Most of the sight-seeing scenes were captured by a camera mounted on the back of a station wagon, while “New York, New York” required a bit more traditional way of filming. 

On premise, On the Town is based on Leonard Bernstein’s 1944 Broadway musical of the same name, but Roger Edens changed or omitted several of Bernstein’s songs to appeal to a larger audience—namely he got rid of any hint of opera.  Since I have never seen Bernstein’s original vision of On the Town I cannot say which version is better, but hopefully the Broadway edition had more entertaining and engaging songs.  Still, Edens did create the most memorable number in the film, “Prehistoric Man”, so for that he should be applauded. Maybe I like risqué songs, because there’s a whole heaping load of “oomph” and “ooh la la” in the lyrics of “Prehistoric Man” and Miller sings them with such vim and vigor that you can’t help but be amused.  You add the dazzling tap dance number that she performs while singing this song (with a little help from her backup singers and dancers Kelly, Frank Sinatra, Jules Munshin, and Betty Garrett), which has a tremendous ending to it, and you easily have the best musical number in the movie.

Still, Kelly had to have his moment to shine, too, and so we get to watch him dance, for what seems like forever, the soliloquy ballet number, “A Day in New York”.  Let’s forget that it’s completely useless to the continuity of the musical—although that is also exceedingly annoying to me.  What is most irritating is that the only person, other than himself, from the starring cast who performs the number is Vera-Ellen (who, I must admit, I don’t like), even though part of the sequence includes two male and two female dancers who accompany Kelly.  To me, that’s like saying, “Hey, Frank, Jules, Betty, and Ann, sorry, but you ain’t good enough to do this routine.” And, maybe they weren’t, but that’s beside the point. By making the decision to use other dancers in that scene, Donen and Kelly purposefully chose to disrupt the overall continuity of the film. 

If I had to pick one shining bright spot, other than the “Prehistoric Man” number, in On the Town, it would have to be watching Betty Garrett’s feisty performance as Hildy. Garrett was no Ava Gardner in the looks department, but her Hildy comes across as a wanton woman nonetheless. Her unsubtle sexual innuendo toward Sinatra’s character, Chip, is undeniably worth the price of admission.  Probably the best description of Garrett’s brassy talents came from New York Times columnist Bosley Crowther, who once wrote that Garrett’s “way with a line is homicidal. What’s more she can dance and sing.” 

Overall, On the Town is, for me, a one trick pony.  When I watch a musical I want to be wowed by several great song and dance numbers. Here I only got one: “Prehistoric Man”.  This spirited routine coupled with Betty Garrett’s spunky performance is not enough to overcome what I find to be a set of lackluster musical numbers.

Read More

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954) ****

 

(This article is from guest contributor Rick29 and first appeared at http://classic-film-tv.blogspot.com/.  The rating in the title is my own.)

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.

Read More