Symphony of Love in Swing Time

Is it crazy to say that I was trilled to do a blog for Valentine's Day on one my favorite romantic films? Well, infinitely thrilled would be more specific. You see, I don't talk about love very often, but I am very fond of it, nevertheless. When I look to this topic in film it becomes complex. On one hand, I understand that the films of the golden age were highly idealized and whatnot. But, as I watched the film about to be discussed, Swing Time, there is a cherishable simplicity in the great films of that era, where enjoyment and wonderment mesh together with such grace. In the case of this 1936 film, such grace is displayed through some of the greatest dance numbers ever displayed on film. And, to connect us with our theme of Valentine's Day, such dances symbolizes the motions of love and, yes, lovemaking. Swing Time is a film that combines such dance with absurd fun.

Now, if you want me to summarize the story, you will be disappointed. The story, I must say, is filled with inconsistencies and such, but the tone of the film and, of course, the dancing, makes up for it and then some. Nonetheless, I don't want to go into such detail unless I have to, the dancing expresses all forms of emotion and interplay. 

Ginger Rogers, who I adore, and Fred Astaire are the quintessential dancing duo of American cinema. The way they act and react towards each other during their dances is intimate, mimicking the stages of love and many other feelings. Consider their first number, 'Pick Yourself Up', which, musically, exhibits much spontaneity. Rogers and Astaire begin to reflect a flirtatious aura among them, with many quick outbursts of speed and versatility in both. Their next number, 'Waltz in Swing Time', is a suave rendition of a celebration of love with the duo essentially rolling over each other, much more fluid than the outbursts in the previous number.

The film is all about courtship, which is usually what all Roger and Astaire films are about. What Swing Time offers over the others is this epic elegance, a sort of tantalizing sensuality displayed through the dance that transcends the conventionality that the film is constructed within. My favorite number of the film, besides the Bill Robinson homage Astaire does by himself, exemplifies this with tenderness and truthfulness. 'Never Gonna Dance', besides being an incredible song, is a dance number with several stages of musical depth and emotional capacity. It begins with the sadness of the realization that Rogers and Astaire can't be together, they glide across the floor in sullenness. They slowly dance closer and look into each other's eyes, but only with the premonition of what's to come. When Rogers begins to walk away, Astaire, jolts at her and they continue to dance; the dancing becomes more intense, a crescendo, if you will. Take note of Rogers eyes, as they become fixed with a passion ready to burst into full color. As they run up the stairs and hit the climax of the number, swiftly spinning in beautiful unity, the dance ends, the nostalgic encounter has ceased. Roger Ebert, in his Great Movies essay, says this number mimics lovemaking. I agree, seeing the complexity of such a number and the emotional content it delivers; it is much more than a lovely waltz. 

I'll end this post as to the main reason why I chose to talk about this film as opposed to others for Valentine's Day. It contains my favorite kissing scene on film. Now here is the kicker: you don't even see the kiss. I won't go into the details on how the kiss actually happens, but I will say the face of Ginger Rogers, who has, dare I say, an irresistibly joyous face. My whole body turns into gelatin and my smile turns into an outburst of happiness. Sometimes, kissing scenes get caught up in the immediate sensation, which, respectively, is a major part of the kiss. But what Swing Time does is emphasize the emotions felt afterwards. There is not much else I can say about the scene because it must be watched, so I'll stop right there. This Valentine's Day, I think about dance as a sort of free-flowing form of expression, a careless beauty that displays an interplay of rhythm and connection with someone else. It is passionate and vibrant,  something that is displayed wonderfully between Rogers and Astaire. If you haven't seen it, Swing Time is a celebration of what love constitutes through humor and dazzling dance.

The Band Wagon: "The World is a Stage! The Stage is a World for Entertainment!"

In 1953 Fred Astaire was fifty-four years old and it is safe to say his prime had passed; the fantastical age with Ginger Rogers has vanished, his stardom faded. The film, The Band Wagon, even begins by directly addressing this facet; the first scene has the famous top hat and stick Astaire was known for in his 30s films being auctioned off. It turns out that not even if the bets started at fifty cents would the people want to bid for it. It is a strong, albeit amusing, testament to Astaire's lasting image, a man of the museum, as Cyd Charisse's character says so in a later scene. Yet, even though physically and athletically, Astaire doesn't match his roles of yesteryear, he never loses one ounce of his slick goofiness as well as his well-deserved hubris he seems to carry around. Take note of his first dance number, "Shine On Your Shoes", where he masterfully moves within the active space, whether it just be confined to the shoe shining chair or the rest of the congested penny arcade. His interaction with co-star Leroy Daniels is phenomenal and bursts with joviality as well  as nigh-miraculous timing. The Band Wagon is not only a colorful musical with complicated numbers and exquisite dancing, but it is a film on how individuals approach the craft; the film becomes a reflective account of this approach to dance. It not only draws from the classic suave of Fred Astaire, but it also draws on the sublime seductive trance of Cyd Charrise, comedy, tragedy, and much more. In the end, it is all about they way in which individuals compromise for the good of the entertainment.

It is crucial to note the writers of this film, Betty Comden and Adoph Green, since they were responsible for what I consider the greatest musical of all time, Singin' in the Rain. Their screenplay and the numbers insinuate more than just the present state of mind of the characters. In this film, specifically, it is geared towards the arts. The whole number of "That's Entertainment" expresses the diversity of form in which entertainment can take the shape of, whether it be a slapstick or 'Macbeth'. The film itself delves into how a film and a play is made, although that is secondary to the actual numbers. Nonetheless, the screenplay brings out these observations and it is a joy to see a film, like Singin' in the Rain before, that is self-reflexive and builds upon such a perspective.

Basically, the story goes that Astaire, now a washed-up song and dance screen actor, is called to New York city to be apart of a musical his friends have written the screenplay for. They choose to get the hot auteur Jeffrey Cordova to direct the musical. Cordova, who begins to distort the original screenplay into a modern day  rendition of 'Faust'. He says the leading lady must be the ballet dancer on the rise, Gabrielle Gerard, play by Cyd Charrise. Astaire and Charrise don't see eye-to-eye at the beginning, their differences come with how they approach their craft. Yet, it takes the famous 'Dancing in the Dark' number to free them of their conventions and work together. It is quite endearing to see how this number starts. Charisse and Astaire dawdle in a park, both looking different ways. You can see Charisse's face and body slowly start to sway with the rhythm of the music. Then, causally, she spins to the side with Astaire, just as casually, following. The rest of the number is elegiac and intimate. The way it ends too is absolutely brilliant.

The play is a bust, yet Astaire gets the idea to stick with the original screenplay as they showcase the musical across the country, where the film ends with a series of numbers, including the strangely involving "Triplets" and the masterful "Girl Hunt Ballet". Much in the same realm as "Broadway Rhythm" in Singin' in the Rain, "Girl Hunt Ballet" is abstract and surreal, the sets are distorting and expressionistic. It is basically an expressionistic noir ballet, combining the grace of the art of dance with the stark composition of film noir. This number can only be done on film, the tricks the filmmakers and choreographers did are astounding and immerse the viewer with such vibrant visualization. The dancing is the epitome of such a visual feast, where the piece in which Astaire and Charisse dance in the bar/brothel is done with such intensity and action. Astaire enters the local with a guise of absurd lust. Charisse becomes a seductress (once again when regarding her role in Singin; in the Rain). Though when she is just acting she seems restrained and has a hint of innocence. When she is dancing, she becomes dominant and sensually imposing. The last number in the film encapsulate her characteristics. What makes the dance so enthralling is that Astaire and Charrise dominate the dance, their physicality doesn't combat each other but, instead, amplifies their relationship and interactivity.

As I stated earlier, this film is a story about how we approach the craft of art or, rather entertainment. The three most important characters, the one's of Astaire and Charisse as well as Cordova, all initially have different feelings and perspectives on the musical they set out to make. Entertainment only works when everyone is on board, and that is exactly what happens in the film, amid the plethora of diverse dance numbers, which is apt because the film approaches dance from several different angles.


The Band Wagon is one those films that is just more than a good time, and it is such a good time to watch. It has continuous activity within each dance, lyric, and set-piece. There is much to be said about art in this film, and I think it is gracefully handled. There are many different ways one can approach a story or a feeling. One thing is for sure, Astaire and Charisse knew their approach and they delivered such serenity and conviction. In regards to Fred Astaire, he showed the world he still had it, both within the film and outside of it.