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.
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