L'Entreprenant Monsieur Petrov

The big takeaway on Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers is how well they danced together. My big takeaway from "Shall We Dance" is how well they acted.

It's one thing to give a good performance in a musical like "Carousel" or "Singing In The Rain", and quite another to deliver amid the creaky jokes, plummy patter, and contrived plot twists that make up "Shall We Dance". But they do, and thanks to them, the show turns out not only okay but rather fine.

Astaire is a faux-Russian ballet dancer, Petrov, who dreams of pairing up with celebrated tap dancer Linda Keene (Rogers) both on-stage and off. Linda just wants to retire, but Petrov's earnestness begins to win her over - until she is led to believe he is using her. She leaves him just as word spreads that the two are married (and really spreads, in the form of front-page news stories and radio flashes), forcing them to face a surreal prospect.

"We're the only people in the world who don't think we're married!" Linda exclaims.

People watching "Shall We Dance" for the first time need patience. Astaire and Rogers don't dance for an hour, their one musical moment all that time involving walking a dog around a ship in time to a musical theme (provided by one George Gershwin, who did the score with his lyricist brother Ira). Matters are too often dominated by Edward Everett Horton's over-the-top eye rolls and leaden asides as Petrov's snooty, disapproving manager. Later on William Brisbane arrives as Linda's rich-guy suitor, adding more overbaked ham to the menu.

But Astaire keeps his end up, dancing to a skipping record or later overplaying a mock Russian accent in his first face-to-face with Linda. "You don't want to dance with the great Petrov," he declares, playing up a Slavic superiority trip. "Don't be a silly horse." The way he elongates that last "o" is positively indecent.

Some reviewers here say Rogers seems bored in this film. She's playing a withdrawn character, though, and does give off passion when called upon. A big musical moment between her and Astaire, when he declares "They Can't Take That Away From Me", is a remarkable duet despite the fact she doesn't sing a note, just looks off with tear-filled eyes. Yet she gets the song's one close-up, and rightly so. When they have their first performance in front of an audience and he dances up a storm by way of an introduction, the look on her face is priceless. "What am I supposed to do?" she deadpans.

Give director Mark Sandrich credit for keeping things light. Too light at times, like when Linda's manager somehow gets a photo of the couple in bed together by using a manikin of her he just happens to have in his closet (better I guess we don't know why he does). Sandrich does make the good scenes better with doses of gentle humor, like the capper to a roller-skating dance that is the movie's best moment. There are some nice dissolves from scene to scene, like a flip-book view of Linda dancing that melts into the real thing.

Watching this the first time, the minutes stretched like rubber. The second time things flew much faster, because I knew what I wanted to see and could look forward to its arrival. I guess audiences of the 1930s had that expectation built in, one reason perhaps why these movies were so popular and no one cared when they were a bit inane.

Why did I have to watch this 5 times in the last 2 weeks?

Well, I can't explain. I guess because this is one of those rare cases where a movie becomes a masterpiece in spite of a (intentionally!) loose storyline; the strength of the choreography, melodies, and the pure delight of dance sequences gives it all. There's Fred Astaire, there's Ginger Rogers, and there's the Fred-Ginger duo - 3 (sic.) distinct personalities! I have watched scores of musicals - but never have I been so bewitched by duet dance sequences unaccompanied by any of the garish excesses characteristic of the Hollywood musical.

Just think of the number " Let's call the whole Thing Off"; what grace, what poise of the couple tap-dancing on roller skates! And oh, what wondrous blend of lyrics and melody. And closely follows another number that, in all it's apparent lightness, provides a counterpoint that makes one misty eyed.

About the solo dance sequences of Fred - the one in the ship's boiler room, the brilliant choreography of his tapdancing with the "pistons" moving in phase, well - it's superhuman!

I shouldn't miss mentioning Edward Everett Horton ("Jeffrey", "Petrov"'s impresserio) - for his misadventures hold the struggling storyline of movie on, just as it was probably meant to be. Eric Blore ("Cecil", the floor manager of the hotel) does his inimitable role as in many other Fred-Ginger musicals; rarely have I seen anything more hilarious than the telephone conversation between Cecil (from jail!!) and Jeffrey.

It's unalloyed and delightful entertainment for those who love musicals. Just forget the world and enter into a dreamland for 108 minutes!

Perhaps the best number in this is Fred and Ginger's dance 'n tap on roller-skates, but the terrific Gershwin score helps a lot (including 'Let's Call The Whole Thing Off', 'They Can't Take That Away From Me' and several others).

This is one of the pair's best, with the usual strong support from Edward Everett Horton, Eric Blore and Jerome Cowan. A silly plot, with Astaire as a Russian ballet dancer (not really Russian, his real name is Peter P Peters!) and Rogers as a musical revue star, who meet and get embroiled in a fake marriage run-around. Horton plays Astaire's fussy manager, Blore plays a pompous hotel manager (the scene in the jail prompting the cop to ask 'what is this, a spelling bee?' is hilarious), and Cowan plays Rogers' manager (a chap distractingly named Arthur Miller).

'Shall We Dance' showcases Ginger Rogers in particular and gives her chance to shine; Fred Astaire remains the usual unattractive pest until he breaks into singing and dancing; and the finale, with a bevy of masked honeys who look like Ginger, has a certain originality. A great team at their very best.

This film (one of the better ones Astaire and Rogers did) probably doesn't get quite the praise it merits because Top Hat and The Gay Divorcee are so widely praised (rightly so). But this movie is equally well executed and any movie that has in it's score the songs, "Shall We Dance", "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off" and especially "They Can't Take That Away" deserves to be warmly remembered. There's a score by Gershwin, dancing by Astaire, Rogers and others and Edard Everett Horton and Eric Blore in support (they appeared in so many of the Astaire-Rogers films that their casting must have been legally required!). Well worth your time. Recommended.

In recent years, the title of this film has become overshadowed by two modern movies of the same name: a superb Japanese movie and its American remake, respectively entitled Shall We Dansu? and Shall We Dance. Yet this 1937 classic is worth revisiting not only for its famous Gershwin numbers, but as the last of a series of classic-format films between Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Deeply flawed, yet the tremendous effort poured into its production is evident. And, when viewed as part of a series, touchingly beautiful.

Utilising talent from their earlier films, Shall We Dance pushes the established formula of light romantic farce coupled with stunning dance routines. But here are many innovations and subtle references to delight fans. At the end of their previous film together (Swing Time), Fred serenaded Ginger with the song Never Gonna Dance, so Shall We Dance? suggests a delightful comeback through association. Their respective characters have grown through successive films, as has their on screen relationship. Now, for the first time, both play fully fledged divas in their own right. Fred is Petrov, a Russian ballet star, and Ginger is Linda, a celebrated jazz dancer. Many of the gags involve rumours about the characters being secretly married or having children. By way of a complex plot, half conducted on a transatlantic liner, the couple do actually get married for the first time in their films together. Copy picture

The star personas of both Astaire and Rogers have been carefully managed by the studios since their debut together in Flying Down to Rio (1933). Fred woos her with increasing conviction or intensity in each successive movie. To suspend disbelief effectively, the audience has to be thoroughly confused for a while about the nature of their relationship (in real life, both Astaire and Rogers are married to other people at this time). The on screen characters are not married at the start of the story – Fred is pursuing Ginger, as usual. But an offhand comment by Petrov to an over-persistent admirer (to the effect that he and Linda are secretly married) is blown up by the newspapers in the story. The only way they can dispel rumours is to get a divorce – which means they first have to get married.

In terms of dance routines, most things had been done already, so Shall We Dance has to come up with something new. One idea is a duet on roller skates. Depending on which account we read, it took filming up to fifty takes to complete (unusually, as Fred would mostly insist on a single one). It's filmed in Central Park, and the idea is to make it look like something people would naturally be doing. It's also the longest dance Fred and Ginger have together in the film, and is made even more enjoyable by their singing Let's Call the Whole Thing Off.

Another innovation is the way the story line is tied up. (Note – a light spoiler follows, but I think it's worth knowing what is coming in this case, so as not to miss the full effect). Petrov, now distraught that Linda won't dance with him, has a choreographed scene where he serenades with numerous showgirls who wear Linda masks. This in itself recalls earlier scenes involving a dummy positioned next to a sleeping Petrov, to 'prove' in the tabloids that they are married; and also in a flick-book he has that creates moving images of Linda. Unbeknown to Petrov, Linda yearns for them to be together. She insists on being taken backstage. Petrov's dance involves unmasking the lookalikes only to find that none are the real Linda. When he touches the real Linda's chin, he finds it is not a mask but really her. She extends her hand and, whoever the 'real' Petrov and Linda have been (they both have several identities even within the film), the audience is satisfied that the real living couple finally have a dance of love. Almost all the emotion of the film has been saved for this moment.

Shall We Dance not only reprises two established stars; it examines the real life pressures and glare of publicity facing them. They were both under pressure: during filming, Ginger Rogers received a real-life extortion notice and a death threat to her mother. The movie's final dance scene maybe hints at something that is beyond words, beyond the glare of the limelight, and something eternally personal – as the song implies: "They Can't Take That Away from Me."

The film's weaknesses include living up to expectations when a formula has peaked. In earlier pairings, Fred's character woos Ginger through dance rather than words. Here, they enjoy some comedy together but there are maybe one too many dance solos. The plot and characterisation has weaknesses too – Astaire is a very accomplished dancer performing balletic moves, but he was the first to admit he is no ballet star. Dance fans may feel unconvinced (similarly, the songs have been covered by much more competent singers). One of the main dance routines sees Harriet Hoctor, not Ginger, imported to dance with Fred – largely on account of her ability to tap through remarkable back-bends. Shall We Dance lacks much of the natural dance chemistry between Fred and Ginger displayed in earlier films, but it is an outstanding piece of their film history that should not be missed.