Short Take: Singin' in the Rain

Singin’ in the Rain, directed by Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen, all but tops every other movie musical. The film is set in the late 1920s, during the transition from silent pictures to talkies. A star leading man (played by Kelly) has his dilemmas, almost all of them centered on the aggravations from his regular leading lady (Jean Hagen). He has to convert their latest picture to sound while somehow getting around her crass, grating voice. She also promotes the fiction that they’re a real-life couple, which creates multiple challenges when he falls in love with a talented bit player (Debbie Reynolds). Screenwriters Adolph Green and Betty Comden craft this affectionate satire of 1920s Hollywood into a terrific farce, and as good as the script is, it still takes a backseat to the musical numbers, which are among the finest in all of film. Gene Kelly triumphantly stakes his claim to being Hollywood’s greatest song-and-dance man. His romantic charm is on lovely display in the courtly “All I Do is Dream of You,” and his infectious pop exuberance is close to its peak in the “Broadway Melody” medley near the film’s end. Romantic charm and exuberance come together in his classic solo treatment of the title song. Donald O’Connor, who plays the Kelly character’s sidekick, can hold his own with Kelly’s graceful athleticism and masterful dance timing, and he’s a great clown besides. The two are a marvel to watch together in the “Fit as a Fiddle,” “Good Morning” and “Moses Supposes” set pieces. O’Connor’s solo number, “Make ‘Em Laugh,” may be the best sustained piece of slapstick wizardry ever. The standouts among the supporting players are Jean Hagen, who makes the haughty, vulgar leading lady a comic delight, and Cyd Charisse, whose balletic vamp in the “Broadway Melody” sequence is sexy, slinky perfection. The film’s only weak point is Debbie Reynolds. She has a fine pop singing voice, and a good sense of comic delivery. But she’s a mediocre dancer, and she doesn’t know how to get her body into her acting. As lively as she is above the neck, she’s stiff and inexpressive below it. That said, the picture is so gloriously entertaining one may not even notice. Harold Rosson provided the bold color cinematography, and the gorgeous production design is by Cedric Gibbons and Randall Duell. Walter Plunkett did the costumes. The songs, most of which first appeared in 1930s Hollywood musicals, are by Arthur Freed and Nacio Herb Brown. Kelly and Stanley Donen choreographed all the production numbers.