“That’s quite a dress, what holds it up?”“Modesty.”
As we sat munching on traditional “I have a cold and don’t care” Friday night fare of chicken nuggets and potato gems, the film was broken up by a call from Sharon who recounted the horrors of giving birth to her second child in the NSW public hospital system – maybe the gritty realism altered my ability to receive this paisley and pastel offering from the master tapper.
Cut back to 1951 and the film-making was obviously broken up by Minneli divorcing Judy Garland, the leading lady (Cyd Charisse) getting knocked up and the replacement 19-year old leading lady recovering from post-war malnutrition. Somehow, they danced gaily on. But why? And why did it capture the hearts of a usually far more cynical academy?
It started off with a quick and witty script, and some great performances, but apparently they overtaxed the writer so much that the last 20 minutes of the movie has no dialogue at all as they dance their way through the French masters. I’m a wannabe dancer at heart and Mat’s an artist (of the fine kind) and neither of us got anything pleasant from that experience.
A struggling artist, a French ballerina, a blonde and saucy sugar mama (perhaps the first celluloid cougar?) and an incredibly cantankerous and talented pianist should have been and started off to be pure MGM gold. We’re treated to numerous dance numbers as Kelly hangs in mid-air and delivers his usual flawless performance, but why that has to be in a beige Wiggles skivvy and matching skin tight pants I just don’t know.
Mat thinks I’m being too harsh, but it is in concert with my level of disappointment – this was a Gene Kelly dancing movie that won Best Picture up against “Streetcar Named Desire”, I was really expecting something special et ca n’est pas ca.
I gave it 58/100 and Mat was even less impressed with 57/100.
So “Out of Africa” and “Forrest Gump” are left in the dust and “An American in Paris” takes the lead as the worst of the Best Picture Winners.
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