Carefree

I didn't like Swing Time, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers' 1936 pairing (their sixth) and, although I guess I liked Carefree from 1938 a bit more, it has all the same problems. In the first place, it's obsessed with plot, with so much writing that it can't seem to squeeze in musical numbers – there are only four in this film and one of them is in slow motion. I don't understand this, although I suppose Ginger Rogers really must have seen herself as an actress, and she imbues this character with lots of feeling – the character she's created is actually quite sensitive and deep.

But this sort of goes directly against what I understand the point of a movie like this to be. I would like dance numbers and I would like singing. Instead Carefree gives us plot twists. It does have comedy, don't get me wrong. And some of it is actually funny. Hattie McDaniel gets two excellent laughs, and Luella Gear and Jack Carson have some good bits. I'm wondering, now that I think about it, if this change in the way the movie musical is working is related at all to the new and more serious ("integrated") book musicals that were happening at the Princess Theatre. It seems to me like Carefree and Swing Time are trying something – and it might make sense to look at them as part of similar attempts at the Princess.

And although this movie is directed by Mark Sandrich and not George Stevens, Carefree contains the same kind of weird fade-outs that Swing Time has. We stay in a scene just a bit too long and we fade out on this bit of plot in order to further complicate something that isn't the least bit complicated.

Carefree's weirdness is compounded by the basic smarminess of Astaire's character in this film. When we first meet him he's a sexist doctor. And then as the film progresses he hypnotizes the woman who loves him and then betrays his very good friend. When Astaire and Rogers walked down the aisle at the end (because of course they did), I wasn't sure this is what I wanted to happen at all.

I watched this on HBOmax, and I'm going to see another one – Shall We Dance – before it leaves at the end of this month. Maybe I'll like that one.

Swing Time (1936)

Barf. Swing Time is one of the least interesting Fred Astaire movies I've seen. (It was apparently Ginger Rogers' favorite of their films together. I gotta disagree, Ginger.) The fact that the songs come from out of the blue (i.e. are non-diegetic) is interesting, but the book is so long; there's so much unnecessary plot. There are four excellent Jerome Kern songs – all four are superb – but this thing is almost 100 minutes long and there are literally four songs plus two dance numbers. This is a musical? 

Also there is a blackface number in Swing Time that I found completely tedious – it also, big surprise, did not need to be in blackface.

On How I Am a Sap and Other Tales of Silliness

I often think of myself as cold-hearted or mean. (My dear friend Wahima likes to describe me that way, certainly.) But then I sit down to watch an old sentimental movie like George Stevens' I Remember Mama and find myself totally overwhelmed with emotion, crying as though I have the softest heart in the world.

I Remember Mama is the story of a Norwegian immigrant family who live in San Francisco and the wise matriarch (played by Irene Dunne) who presides over the family. It's touching and sweet and I found it very beautiful. The tone of the movie is often silly and sometimes veering on the cartoony (Oskar Homolka as the crazy uncle gives a particularly ridiculous performance), but all of this is okay because the story is told from the point of view of a young girl who is coming of age. The fantastical does not seem so out of place as seen through her eyes. Anyway, I loved it.

And now for two more films I really liked. It's been a good week...

Jean-Jacques Beineix's 1986 movie 37°2 le Matin which was released in the U.S. as Betty Blue is wonderful. It's a sexy, quirky tale of two lovers who try to stay together as one of them (Betty) deteriorates under the weight of what become severe mental problems. I have no idea why the movie was called Betty Blue in English, nor do I have any idea what a literal translation of the film's French title might mean: 37.2 Degrees in the Morning. (What is that about? Is it idiomatic?) The film is not really the story of Betty, though. It is the story of the couple (his name is Zorg) and their life together. I can't say enough good things about the movie. Both lead performances are excellent (Béatrice Dalle plays Betty; Jean-Hugues Anglade plays Zorg) and both of them are incredibly sexy. Anglade, in fact, has to be one of the sexiest men I've ever seen in my life. Betty Blue is long (it runs a little over three hours), but because it delves so deeply into the minutiae of the relationship, the movie's impact is all the greater.

And last night I saw Michael Patrick King's big-screen version of Sex and the City, which is a film all about clothes. There isn't much else to the movie. There are breakups and some life-lessons that seem totally obvious from the movie's get-go, and barely the ghost of a plot, but I really liked this movie. The performances are serviceable, there are several funny jokes, there is loads of bitchiness and plenty of camp. But chiefly Sex and the City is a film about clothes. Did I say that already? To my mind, the clothes make the entire experience not only worth the price of a ticket, but totally unforgettable.

Monty Clift

Because of my über-busy schedule, I am not able to participate, but everyone should go check out the Montgomery Clift Blog-a-thon, which is happening over at the Film Experience.

Clift is a favorite of mine, giving great performances in a number of classic films, the best being George Stevens' A Place in the Sun. His matinee idol face has been my representative since I started this blog.
So if you don't know Monty, you should check him out, and be sure to hang around the blog-a-thon. Nathaniel will be there all day with new links.