My Favorite Movies: Singin' in the Rain (1952)

Singin’ in the Rain is the greatest film musical, yet it begins so unassumingly. There is a quick pre-credits sequence in which stars Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds and Donald O’Connor, clad in rubber rain coats, sing a portion of the title song while splashing through a puddle. There’s nothing to this scene, but it has become one of the defining images of American film. Just look at the joy on their faces. They have no idea they’re the featured attractions in one of the most revered motion pictures of all time.

Nothing in Singin’ in the Rain is anything but sincere. The people who were involved in its production wanted nothing more than to entertain, and if their motives were any less noble they never let on. Its reputation today suggests that it has always been a classic, from conception onwards, but that isn’t true. In the early 50s, MGM was churning out musicals like they were going out of style (which they were) and had been since the war. The studio had little faith in the production and did little to promote it. They let Stanley Donen direct even though he was only in his 20s at the time and had little experience. Gene Kelly co-directed, choreographed and starred simultaneously, coming up with most of the movie’s best ideas.

The lack of enthusiasm during the original release of Singin’ in the Rain was not unexpected. It was riding on the coattails of the success of the enormous, award-winningAn American in Paris. The difference between the two is that the former was more of a spectacle and the latter had more heart. It was received well, but not abundantly so, and was quickly forgotten. A revival of interest occurred decades later thanks to film club screenings, which led to a re-evaluation of its merit and eventually its classification of masterpiece. It was not just another movie.

The film can be even more appreciated if seen through the eyes of its era. It came about only thirty years after sound films had officially overturned the silent era, a period in which the musical reigned. Singin’ in the Rain is the story of how movie studios were forced to adapt to the trend. This change didn’t happen overnight. The purchasing of sound equipment and the initially high cost of using it put several big studios out of business, while others lost some of their biggest stars. One of the greatest things in Singin’ in the Rain is the character of Lena Lamont, as played hilariously by Jean Hagen who seems to be channeling Judy Holliday in Born Yesterday. She is the symbol of all those great silent stars who could mime like nobody’s business, but were not gifted with public speaking voices, let alone singing abilities.

The story of the film concerns a fictional studio whose silent period dramas have been successes for years. The appearance of The Jazz Singer causes a serious stir and the studio chief realizes that a sound upgrade is essential for business. This leads to some very funny scenes involving the first day of shooting. The stars are oblivious to the fact that the enormous microphone is picking up every sound on the set, from the thundering clank of a pearl necklace to the actress’ heartbeat. I’m sure many a director spent similarly frustrating sessions during that time, resulting in some truly horrible pictures. It is worth noting that many of the songs in Singin’ in the Rain are from 20s musicals. The title song, for example, was first performed in the wretched Hollywood Revue of 1929, MGM’s biggest moneymaker of that year. Singin’ in the Rain mocks and pays homage to that unfortunate part of Hollywood’s history in equal doses. It also made the public aware of the invention of lip-synching, which would become more frequently used in the coming years when people like Audrey Hepburn, Natalie Wood and Deborah Kerr were cast in musicals despite not having the necessary talent.

The best way to measure a musical film’s true success is to judge whether or not it would still be worth watching even if the songs were taken away. This is one of those rare examples of a musical film where both story and songs complement each other with equal greatness. It is a movie that impresses in every facet, but with musical numbers most of all. Watching these talented individuals put on a show makes one think about how little you have to do to be a star these days. Watch Donald O’Connor perform “Make ‘Em Laugh,” a segment in which he displays effortless self-brutality. He practically turns into a cartoon character, as he runs right into brick walls, slips all over the floor, fights with a dummy and “rearranges” his face.  No matter how many times I watch it, his performance astonishes me. Logically, no human being should be able to do half these things, yet there is O’Connor doing them with a big smile on his face.

Both O’Connor and Gene Kelly were among a cinematic elite, being musical stars that can sing, dance and act. They worked together extremely well, as evidenced in the “Moses Supposes” number, which is comprised almost entirely of tap dancing. Now seen as hokey, I doubt many viewers realize how truly difficult this style of dance is. It requires great amounts of concentration and energy, as well as a nearly impossible flexibility of the body. How these guys can move like that and still make it look so spontaneous must stay a mystery for people like me, ungifted in the ways of dance. Most astonishing of all is Debbie Reynolds in her first starring role, adorably eager and holding her own alongside these two great performers. Watch her especially during the “Good Morning” song. She not only keeps up, she steals the show.

Then there’s that scene, the one in which Gene Kelly and the movie were immortalized; when he actually sings and dances in the rain. Accomplished dancers have pointed out that the dance itself is nothing all that extraordinary. Kelly’s moves are really quite simple; he leaps up on a lamp-post, splashes in a gutter, waves his umbrella around. The scene’s accomplishments stem more from purpose, style and precision than the actual dancing. His character is literally dancing for joy, a joy that I believe extends to the actor as well.Singin’ in the Rain endures precisely because of its joy and its color and its agelessness. They really don’t make them like they used to.

My Favorite Movies: Some Like It Hot (1959)

Two male musicians (Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis) are suffering under the weight of Prohibition. Their job playing for the band in a saloon disguised as a funeral home is lost when the establishment is raided. They have bet their overcoats on a dog race that went wrong and to make matters worse, they witness the murder of several individuals by a group of gangsters who will not tolerate loose ends. They escape, but know they must get out of the area. The most logical conclusion they come to is to dress up as women and join an all-girl band to avoid detection. Well, nobody’s perfect.

The public is consistently fond of cross-dressing comedies. Look at the success of Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie, Robin Williams in Mrs. Doubtfire or even Julie Andrews in Victor/Victoria. The format is popular partly because of the whole idea of being in someone else’s shoes, but mostly because such a drastic gender clash usually results in great opportunities for humor. In Some Like It Hot, Lemmon and Curtis are friends who can’t quite get along with each other and who have no idea how to be anything but men. They make hilarious women.

Observe the first scene in which they are dressed in drag and walking towards the train station to meet up with the band. They are not only hideous, they are having difficulty walking in heels and they can feel a draft. Lemmon protests, “I feel like everyone’s staring!” Curtis replies, “With those legs?” Even on the simple task of assigning female names, they cannot agree. Since their names are Joe and Jerry, they had previously decided to be known as Josephine and Geraldine. When they get to the train, Joe introduces himself as Josephine, while Jerry squeals, “And I’m Daphne!” They continue to disagree for the rest of the picture and make a perfect comedy duo.

That train scene is also the surprisingly ordinary entrance of star Marilyn Monroe. This is the best film to feature Monroe who, in simply walking across the screen, makes the rest of the movie seem to halt. Her presence makes Curtis speechless, while Lemmon continues to ramble on in his usual fashion, infamously comparing her to “jell-o on springs.” Throughout the film, Monroe’s’ mere presence trumps all other goings-on, no matter how crazy things with the gangsters and the cross-dressing get. Director Billy Wilder and co-star Tony Curtis have both made it clear how much they couldn’t stand working with her, but the results are gold. Monroe’s legendary status may have been built on other movies, like Wilder’s The Seven Year Itch in which she stands over the air vent or Gentlemen Prefer Blondes in which she sings “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend,” but she was never better than in Some Like It Hot.

There is a story about how much Marilyn had so trouble remembering the line, “Where’s that bourbon?” that Wilder had it printed on a piece of paper and placed inside a dresser drawer on the set so that she could open it and read the line. When she proceeded to open the wrong drawer, Wilder had it placed in all the drawers. Her difficulty in remembering simple lines of dialogue and her frequent troubles with punctuality and depression made her a nightmare on set. It is funny to think that the bubble-headed character she plays in the film isn’t far from the truth. Any other actress wouldn’t have survived in Hollywood with her kind of track record, but the end product was always worth the effort. There’s an extended sequence in Some Like It Hot where Monroe and Curtis are required to kiss again and again. Curtis once described the experience as being “like kissing Hitler.” You would never have guessed it.

You see, Marilyn Monroe was not a great actress in the traditional sense. She did not give great performances. Even here, in her best film, she can be clearly seen struggling with her lines, often resorting to spitting them out as fast as possible. She is occasionally out of breath. Marilyn Monroe was a personality, one of the last great stars of the golden age of Hollywood. Few other stars in film history had such a commanding presence even when doing absolutely nothing. Since she died so young, she is one of those rare celebrities whose entire existence was one of perpetual consistency. She never grew old, forever inhabiting a symbol of 1950s life, the muse for so many pop culture artists.

Tales persist about the troubled shoot that Some Like It Hot had to endure. Besides the aforementioned problems with the cast, filming also had to begin without a completed script because nobody knew where to go with it and the two male stars looked so ghastly in their female get-ups that the entire look of the production had to be re-evaluated to accommodate a more eye-pleasing black and white. However, once it’s up on the screen, nobody thinks about a plagued production. The whole thing feels spontaneous and joyful, as a screwball comedy should. It is so fun and goofy, in fact, that it remains a hilarious film despite its age and a textbook example of how a comedy film should be structured. It is often referred to as not only one of the greatest film comedies, but one of the greatest films, period.

An important part of enjoying a movie like Some Like It Hot is to remember that it is pure escapism. I hate to hear people complain that it isn’t realistic or that the humor is outdated. Obviously, in real life these guys would simply get out of town rather than resorting to such ludicrous lengths, but that is the entire point of the screwball comedy. The crazier it gets the funnier it is. As to the question of whether or not it is dated, well, of course it’s dated. Every movie must age, but it is unfair to judge a movie based solely on how much time has passed since its creation. The question should instead be whether or not the movie has aged with grace, whether or not its content still resonates decades later. Based on the reaction at a public screening of Some Like It Hot I recently attended, it is still very funny. It is the definition of timeless.

This is a miraculous movie, one with such rapid-fire dialogue and absurd situations it would make any sitcom proud, but one which rises above its own clumsy scenarios. The stars gleefully embraced its ridiculousness and made the movie equally funny and classy, even when bordering on the risqué (Some of its more suggestive jokes caused the film not to be approved by the American censors. Its popularity despite this was one of the major things that led to the creation of the ratings system that still exists today.). Then there’s that ending. No, it doesn’t provide much real closure, but it is perfect nonetheless. I won’t repeat the closing line of dialogue, suffice to say that it is one of the greatest of all movie quotes and serves the entire picture with a worthy punch line. I can only think of possibly one other closing line that may be greater. It was in Sunset Boulevard, another Billy Wilder film. That’s probably not a coincidence.