Singin' in the RainCan you believe that there was a time when "talking pictures" was considered a fad, one that would "never catch on"? Singin' in the Rain recalls those days in 1927, when Hollywood was at a crossroads, and entertainment was evolving into something revolutionary. Truth is that the dream factory has always had to keep up with the times, adapt or die. It's a lesson which movie star Don Lockwood (Gene Kelly) is attuned to, his humble, vaudevillian origins with his pal, Cosmo Brown (Donald O'Connor), having brought them to the west coast, but Don's adaptability being what secured him a career. But it's not enough; as Don puts it, you "gotta dance"!
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Singin' in the Rain has been absorbed so fully into the cinematic and musical lifeblood that it stands as one of those classics which you might know by the songs--could even sing them yourself--but might have never seen the picture; but that would be a tragedy, as the film is an astonishing achievement on many levels. Starring Gene Kelly (who is also credited as co-director), Singin' in the Rain is bursting with an extensive array of exciting and vibrant dance numbers, highly detailed and choreographed displays, with special effects which are as sharp today as they were over sixty years ago. The musical routines are entertaining and the music is great; a closer look will yield a gold mine of detail and expertise. Consider the dance sequence from which the film draws its title, as Gene Kelly (as Don) dances through the rain-soaked streets of California--I know it sounds unlikely, the rain I mean. Although it is clear that the streets are on a set, there are several unbroken shots in this routine, and the action and movement is so perfect that when Don comes to a small pothole to kick into, Gene's movements have to have been so acute to bring him right there at that particular time. Now, this may sound like a minute detail, but consider the man is doing tap under a torrent of water, across a long stretch--he even tosses his open umbrella, catches it perfectly, and the shot continues. Showing off? Maybe; but this is a master at his peak, and it shows, not just in his skill but his devotion to the craft--the dance, choreography, and the film as a whole.
Because Singin' in the Rain is remembered so fondly for its place in the annals of the silver screen, one might overlook the fact that it is a "period piece", set twenty-five years before the film's release in 1952, recalling those growing pains of the studio system. Once the referenced talkie, The Jazz Singer, proves to be a hit, all the other studios are stuck playing catch-up to ensure their futures, desperately jumping on the bandwagon to stay fresh and profitable. (3-D, anyone?) The irony for Monumental Pictures, Don and Cosmo's employer under the leadership of R.F. Simpson (Millard Mitchell), is that while Don and his lovely (if venomous) co-star, Lina Lamont (Jean Hagen), look great in stills and in silent pictures as a fabricated couple, Lina proves to be the great albatross for the studio, possessed not of a gloriously beautiful voice to match her image, but of a shrill caterwaul, one which carries the clarion call of doom should her voice ring out in newly equipped movie theaters across the country. The studio is forced to establish creative means to overcome their newest obstacles, first in capturing sound for the film, and then a way to save their struggling picture, "The Duelling Cavalier". Watching the film crew work out a means to rig a microphone into Lina's dress is a feat born of necessity--can't talk romance into a bush--but creates additional problems, mirroring the efforts of creative filmmakers over history. The problem of Lina's voice is circumvented through a clever undermining of the expectation that a talkie is more realistic by virtue of hearing the actors in the film, when Cosmo hits upon the idea of dubbing her voice with that of ingenue and secret love of Don's, Kathy Selden (Debbie Reynolds), who has a beautiful voice. It is ironic that with so many of Don's swashbuckling romance pictures being set in the era of the French monarchy, this very premise recalls the play of "Cyrano de Bergerac".
The further irony of the bait-and-switch of Kathy and Lina for vocal purposes reinforces another theme of Singin' in the Rain, that Hollywood is about illusion, about fantasy at its core. In a way, the film is a satire of Hollywood, of the false veneer the dream factory presents. Tabloids like those which spread rumors about Don and Lina's inevitable marriage do so--and profit--because they know what the public wants...even if it isn't necessarily true. Even Singin' in the Rain is, really, a movie about making a movie, with musical interludes as a part of the product, as well as in the story proper. One of the most revealing musical numbers which hints at Hollywood's enthusiasm to copy a profitable idea comes in the form of the "Beautiful Girl Montage", with moments which look like stock elements from other films in the period, intentionally superficial in contrast to the others in the film. Of course Hollywood is all about acting, about pretend, so by the time we meet Don, he's already fit right in, fabricating a story of his past for tabloid reporter Dora Bailey (Madge Blake). We get the real deal from Don via his flashback, detailing his humble origins, where he certainly had to pay his dues to get ahead, but it is when he literally falls into Kathy's convertible (thankfully a convertible) following his pursuit by rabid fans, and their subsequent conversation that leads him to a moment of crisis for his chosen profession. This scene is especially interesting in showcasing how clever Kathy is, as the flirtatious Don actually begins to put the moves on her, which she quickly identifies and dissuades him by disparaging his choice to act on film to compel him to get his arm off of her. When his confidence is shaken (in his talent and, perhaps, his charm), this is when he begins to identify that he needs to do more with his acting. Don becomes obsessed with Kathy because he sees her as someone who is not taken in by his acting, but by who he is as a person, following his eventual rediscovery of her and interest in developing her as an actress herself, which eventually leads to a romance between the two. So when the trio of Don, Kathy, and Cosmo get the idea of revamping "The Failing Cavalier" (almost as good a title) by making it a musical--albeit with some spurious additions to the historical narrative--it gives Don the opportunity to finally "tell his story"--the real one, not the one he told Dora--about his rise to stardom, a "Broadway Melody Ballet" which mirrors his own desperate call to realize his dreams on stage or screen.
While the story of Singin' in the Rain is fine in its own right, the real meat of the picture is unquestionably the dancing. This film is filled with musical miracles, but my favorite might just be Donald O'Connor's famous "Make 'Em Laugh". It is so uproarious, so intensely funny that at the very end of the stylishly comic routine, when Cosmo collapses at the conclusion, you know it's for real. And each musical number is chock full of personality, revealing a lot about the characters and the actors by their movements and total commitment to the vigorous dances. Take the song "Moses Supposes", sung and danced by Gene Kelly and Donald O'Connor following Don Lockwood's mandatory diction lessons with a stuffy tutor. Donald O'Connor attempts the herculean task of keeping up with the expert dancer, but I dare say that O'Connor even exudes more physical comedy than his fellow in the scene. I believe that Gene Kelly was keenly aware of the talents of his fellow actors--O'Connor and Debbie Reynolds--and played to their strengths, getting astonishing performances out of them for some truly intimidating dance numbers. The best example of this is "Good Morning", when the trio dances around Don's palatial house in the middle of the night, the idea to save the soon-to-be-dubbed (and all that implies) "The Dancing Cavalier". Again with long shots and lots of varied, synchronized action, the dance is still consistent and thoroughly entertaining by all three performers...and Debbie Reynolds does it in heels. And while Singin' in the Rain is a comedy and a musical, Don confesses his fascination and love for Kathy by drawing her to a sound stage, where he claims he is at home to fully express his feelings for her, performing "You Are My Lucky Star" as the lights are thrown, the backdrop of a sunset is illuminated behind them, and a ladder doubles for a balcony. So gently, so intimate is the performance that you just might forget it's on a stage, just like a movie. And isn't that the magic of movies, an escape into a dream, where even the falling rain can't take that feeling away?
Recommended for: Fans of one of the most expertly crafted movies ever made, musical or otherwise, with alarming detail and precision. It is a funny assessment of Hollywood in any era, with humor and romance throughout. Great for all ages, and especially rewarding on repeat viewings.
Because Singin' in the Rain is remembered so fondly for its place in the annals of the silver screen, one might overlook the fact that it is a "period piece", set twenty-five years before the film's release in 1952, recalling those growing pains of the studio system. Once the referenced talkie, The Jazz Singer, proves to be a hit, all the other studios are stuck playing catch-up to ensure their futures, desperately jumping on the bandwagon to stay fresh and profitable. (3-D, anyone?) The irony for Monumental Pictures, Don and Cosmo's employer under the leadership of R.F. Simpson (Millard Mitchell), is that while Don and his lovely (if venomous) co-star, Lina Lamont (Jean Hagen), look great in stills and in silent pictures as a fabricated couple, Lina proves to be the great albatross for the studio, possessed not of a gloriously beautiful voice to match her image, but of a shrill caterwaul, one which carries the clarion call of doom should her voice ring out in newly equipped movie theaters across the country. The studio is forced to establish creative means to overcome their newest obstacles, first in capturing sound for the film, and then a way to save their struggling picture, "The Duelling Cavalier". Watching the film crew work out a means to rig a microphone into Lina's dress is a feat born of necessity--can't talk romance into a bush--but creates additional problems, mirroring the efforts of creative filmmakers over history. The problem of Lina's voice is circumvented through a clever undermining of the expectation that a talkie is more realistic by virtue of hearing the actors in the film, when Cosmo hits upon the idea of dubbing her voice with that of ingenue and secret love of Don's, Kathy Selden (Debbie Reynolds), who has a beautiful voice. It is ironic that with so many of Don's swashbuckling romance pictures being set in the era of the French monarchy, this very premise recalls the play of "Cyrano de Bergerac".
The further irony of the bait-and-switch of Kathy and Lina for vocal purposes reinforces another theme of Singin' in the Rain, that Hollywood is about illusion, about fantasy at its core. In a way, the film is a satire of Hollywood, of the false veneer the dream factory presents. Tabloids like those which spread rumors about Don and Lina's inevitable marriage do so--and profit--because they know what the public wants...even if it isn't necessarily true. Even Singin' in the Rain is, really, a movie about making a movie, with musical interludes as a part of the product, as well as in the story proper. One of the most revealing musical numbers which hints at Hollywood's enthusiasm to copy a profitable idea comes in the form of the "Beautiful Girl Montage", with moments which look like stock elements from other films in the period, intentionally superficial in contrast to the others in the film. Of course Hollywood is all about acting, about pretend, so by the time we meet Don, he's already fit right in, fabricating a story of his past for tabloid reporter Dora Bailey (Madge Blake). We get the real deal from Don via his flashback, detailing his humble origins, where he certainly had to pay his dues to get ahead, but it is when he literally falls into Kathy's convertible (thankfully a convertible) following his pursuit by rabid fans, and their subsequent conversation that leads him to a moment of crisis for his chosen profession. This scene is especially interesting in showcasing how clever Kathy is, as the flirtatious Don actually begins to put the moves on her, which she quickly identifies and dissuades him by disparaging his choice to act on film to compel him to get his arm off of her. When his confidence is shaken (in his talent and, perhaps, his charm), this is when he begins to identify that he needs to do more with his acting. Don becomes obsessed with Kathy because he sees her as someone who is not taken in by his acting, but by who he is as a person, following his eventual rediscovery of her and interest in developing her as an actress herself, which eventually leads to a romance between the two. So when the trio of Don, Kathy, and Cosmo get the idea of revamping "The Failing Cavalier" (almost as good a title) by making it a musical--albeit with some spurious additions to the historical narrative--it gives Don the opportunity to finally "tell his story"--the real one, not the one he told Dora--about his rise to stardom, a "Broadway Melody Ballet" which mirrors his own desperate call to realize his dreams on stage or screen.
While the story of Singin' in the Rain is fine in its own right, the real meat of the picture is unquestionably the dancing. This film is filled with musical miracles, but my favorite might just be Donald O'Connor's famous "Make 'Em Laugh". It is so uproarious, so intensely funny that at the very end of the stylishly comic routine, when Cosmo collapses at the conclusion, you know it's for real. And each musical number is chock full of personality, revealing a lot about the characters and the actors by their movements and total commitment to the vigorous dances. Take the song "Moses Supposes", sung and danced by Gene Kelly and Donald O'Connor following Don Lockwood's mandatory diction lessons with a stuffy tutor. Donald O'Connor attempts the herculean task of keeping up with the expert dancer, but I dare say that O'Connor even exudes more physical comedy than his fellow in the scene. I believe that Gene Kelly was keenly aware of the talents of his fellow actors--O'Connor and Debbie Reynolds--and played to their strengths, getting astonishing performances out of them for some truly intimidating dance numbers. The best example of this is "Good Morning", when the trio dances around Don's palatial house in the middle of the night, the idea to save the soon-to-be-dubbed (and all that implies) "The Dancing Cavalier". Again with long shots and lots of varied, synchronized action, the dance is still consistent and thoroughly entertaining by all three performers...and Debbie Reynolds does it in heels. And while Singin' in the Rain is a comedy and a musical, Don confesses his fascination and love for Kathy by drawing her to a sound stage, where he claims he is at home to fully express his feelings for her, performing "You Are My Lucky Star" as the lights are thrown, the backdrop of a sunset is illuminated behind them, and a ladder doubles for a balcony. So gently, so intimate is the performance that you just might forget it's on a stage, just like a movie. And isn't that the magic of movies, an escape into a dream, where even the falling rain can't take that feeling away?
Recommended for: Fans of one of the most expertly crafted movies ever made, musical or otherwise, with alarming detail and precision. It is a funny assessment of Hollywood in any era, with humor and romance throughout. Great for all ages, and especially rewarding on repeat viewings.