| Collector's Corner April 2009
Swing Time
- Starring: Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, Eric
Blore, Victor Moore, Helen Broderick, Betty Furness
- Directed by: George Stevens
- Theatrical release: 1936
- DVD release: 2005
- Video: 1.37:1 (fullscreen)
- Sound: Dolby Digital 2.0 mono
- Released by: Turner Home Entertainment
 When, in his inaugural
address, President Barack Obama said that, "Starting today, we must pick ourselves
up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America," I had this
crazy fantasy that someone was about to break into song: "Pick yourself up,
dust yourself off, and start all over again!" It would have been appropriate. Nor is
it possible to imagine that the President and his speechwriter, Jon Favreau, both of whom
are very bright, would not have known that the line might resonate even with people who
had no idea that "Pick Yourself Up" was written -- in 1936, by Jerome Kern and
Dorothy Fields -- in hopes that it would encourage Americans to keep their chins up in the
depths of the Great Depression.
And boy, do we need it now. Which makes it the perfect time
to go back and watch Swing Time, the film for which Kern and Fields wrote
that song.
All romantic musical comedies are farcical in nature, and Swing
Time is no exception. John "Lucky" Garnett (Fred Astaire) is a hoofer
with a bit of a gambling addiction that is engaged to a girl from a well-to-do family who
are concerned about allowing an entertainer into their midst. When, thanks to a prank
played by some buddies, Lucky shows up late to his own wedding, his prospective
father-in-law wants to send him away, but relents when Lucky promises to make $25,000
before the wedding. Lucky and his pal, "Pop" Cardetti (Victor Moore), hop a
freight (it is the Depression) and head to New York City to make their fortune.
There, Lucky meets a dance instructor, Penny Carroll
(Ginger Rogers), and promptly falls in love with her. Being a man of honor, he
doesn’t want to jilt his fiancée, but Penny is so close and so sexy, and she dances
like a dream. Pop comes up with the idea that, as long as Lucky never makes the $25,000,
he won’t have to go back. Then, success strikes for the new dancing team of Lucky and
Penny, and they have a new problem: How to not make $25,000?
The plot line allowed audiences of 1936 to experience many
vicarious feelings. Here was a guy in worse shape than most of them, having to hop
freights just to get around, and a gal who squeaks along by giving dancing lessons to
clodhoppers. Then, suddenly, they’re thrust into a world of high style, fame, and
magnificent wealth, their only problems being how to limit their income while satisfying a
matter of honor. People who’d lost their jobs and now faced the threat of having to
join a soup line and live in a tent city could lay out a few cents and spend 103 minutes
in the company of these happy, wealthy, classy, amusing people whose only concern was how
to keep loving each other.
 In any farce, the devil is in
the details, and here is where Swing Time jumps from being a pleasant Fred &
Ginger vehicle to one of the classic Hollywood romantic musical comedies. Lucky and Penny
are likable and attractive. Though Astaire was never handsome, he wore clothes like a
model, moved with a cheetah’s elegance, and exuded so much cool that only Miles Davis
would ever be able to stand up to him. Rogers could be sweetly wholesome and frighteningly
sexy, all in the space of a double-take. And Bernard Newman’s gowns clung to her just
enough to show her gorgeous dancer’s body to full effect. Victor Moore as Pop and
Helen Broderick as Mabel provide ideal comic relief, propelling the farce along while
keeping the audience up on the proceedings.
Director George Stevens and producer Pandro S. Berman
assembled a perfect crew: the writing, lighting, cinematography, special effects, art
direction, costumes, decorating, and music are on the highest plane imaginable. Stevens
deserves special credit. The man who would go on to direct such classics as Gunga Din,
Woman of the Year, A Place in the Sun, Shane, and Giant was already showing his ability to take
control of a big, expensive production while keeping it intimate and touching.
One scene deserves specific comment because it will be easy
for some to see it as the harsh slap of minstrel-show stereotypes. The scene is in chapter
21, "Bojangles in Harlem." Astaire learned tap dancing from one of the masters,
John W. Bubbles, an African-American who’d had a brilliant career in the Ziegfeld
Follies, and had played Sportin’ Life in the original production of George
Gershwin’s Porgy & Bess. Unfortunately, no one would have known what
Astaire was referring to had the dance been titled "Bubbles in Harlem." The man
named in the piece was another famous black entertainer, Bill "Bojangles"
Robinson, who would have been much better known to film audiences of 1936 from his several
recent appearances in films starring Shirley Temple. In any case, Astaire’s
performance includes none of the blatant racism seen in most minstrel shows, and most
folks rightly took it as Astaire’s tipping his top hat to the true innovators of tap.
But note the quartet where Astaire performs along with
three giant shadows. The precision is so tight, you’d think they truly are shadows
cast by Astaire as he dances. But they’re not, as you’ll see. All four parts are
danced by Astaire, but as an ensemble, not a solo. In fact, his dancing is so meticulous
that he was able to loop the sound of his taps on a separate soundstage in postproduction.
Imagine trying that.
Pay attention, too, to the dance scene in chapter 24, one
of Astaire and Rogers’ most beautiful seduction scenes. In all of their films
together, and in most of Astaire’s films with other dance partners, he eventually
breaks down his love’s resistance by dancing with her so beautifully that she can no
longer resist. This scene -- six minutes with only a single cut -- took 10 hours and 47
takes to complete. By the end of the final take, Rogers’ feet were bleeding.
It’s as nearly perfect a dance number as you’ll ever see.
 Of course, there is always the question of
whether or not you are a dance-musical lover. I admit it’s a small coterie. Of all
the types of film, only fantasy and science-fiction require as great a leap of faith or as
willing a suspension of belief, and the audience for musicals seems to have shrunk to
almost nothing.
At least there's enough of an audience for Astaire and
Rogers that Turner Entertainment was willing to do some work on the prints and the video
transfer, and put together a decent commentary and making-of feature. While they
haven’t taken the kind of care their parent company took with Citizen Kane, Swing
Time has a sumptuous look, and the music sounds clear and clean.
Swing Time won an Oscar for Best Music, Original
Song for "The Way You Look Tonight," and was nominated for Best Dance Direction
for Hermes Pan’s choreography of "Bojangles of Harlem." In 2004, it was
selected for preservation by the National Film Registry, and it is one of only nine
musicals in the American Film Institute’s list of the Top 100 Films of All Time.
The DVD is available singly for about $18, as part of a
five-DVD set of Astaire and Rogers’ better films for $30, or as part of a boxed set
of their complete works for $50. That last set is something I’d try to smuggle onto
that mythic desert island -- it’s 17 hours of pure joy.
. . . Wes Marshall
wesm@hometheatersound.com |
