Top Hat

If you're a fan of FRED ASTAIRE and GINGER ROGERS and their predictable screwball comedies of the '30s, you'll find this one is easy to take. First of all, the score by Irving Berlin has a variety of catchy tunes although I can't say it's his greatest, and all of the mistaken identity plot is performed with such grace by the famous dancing duo and their marvelous supporting cast that it's all as light as the feathers on Ginger's "Cheek to Cheek" dress.

Speaking of which--for me, the "Cheek to Cheek" number is worth watching just to see how skillful the two dance the number although fully aware that Astaire objected strenuously to Ginger's feathered dress. Nevertheless, it's the dancing highlight of the film, much better than the "Piccolino" number that is used for the finale.

Eric Blore and Erik Rhodes outdo themselves in great comic support. Blore we almost take for granted at this point, but Rhodes with his silly Italian accent is a scene-stealer too. His Bettini, the dressmaker, offers some of the heartiest chuckles.

Astaire is top flight here--graceful, athletic, and young enough to be seen as a dancing Cary Grant--and Ginger matches him every dancing step of the way. She's particularly delightful in the rainy park sequence for "Isn't It A Lovely Day?" And for the "Cheek to Cheek" sequence she has a braided hairdo that gives her an ultra-sophisticated, princess-like look. When she and Astaire dance, they can do no wrong.

He, of course, is more skillful with a song than she is, his voice perfectly able to deliver all the Irving Berlin numbers assigned to him, while she barely gets by with her rendition of the "Piccolino".

Great fun to watch--rainy day or not. And those art deco backgrounds for hotel rooms and Venice are a knockout. The pristine print of the film shown on TCM recently really made them stand out in glowing splendor.

The stage star, Jerry Travers, disturbs a young woman's sleep by tap-dancing on the floor of a hotel room directly above hers. The young woman is Dale Tremont, a beautiful fashion model. In the course of the movie plot, by way of London, Venice and the usual snags of mistaken identity, the two youngsters flirt, dance and fall in love.

Fred Astaire was a huge Broadway star and social lion long before he ever saw the inside of a film studio. A lucky pairing with Ginger Rogers (a film star in her own right) in "Flying Down To Rio" (1933) led on to a series of smash hits throughout the 1930's. "Top Hat" was the third film the couple made together, and for this one RKO Radio started getting serious, bringing in the legendary Irving Berlin to write the sparkling songs.

This picture was preceded a year earlier by "The Gay Divorcee", and is a repeat prescription of that successful formula - wealthy, elegant characters, frivolous lifestyles, light-hearted love and sumptuous dance numbers. It is not merely the storyline of 'Divorcee' that is repeated here - alongside Fred and Ginger, several of the cast members reappear. Edward Everett Horton was the lawyer Egbert in the earlier film, and here he is Horace the impresario, but is still Fred's bumbling buddy. Eric Blore was the wisecracking waiter, now he is the sarcastic valet: Erik Rhodes plays Italian buffoons in both films - Tonetti in 'Divorcee', Beddini here. Watch out for the girl florist ... it's Lucille Ball, two years into a very long and busy showbiz career.

The film's first number is "Fancy Free", an amiable little ditty which sets the prevailing tone of easy gaiety. Fred leads into it very nicely, his speech becoming more and more rhythmic until he lifts off into song.

"It's A Lovely Day" has a great tune, witty choreography, a thunderstorm and a superb bandstand set. Yet the song everyone associates with this movie is "Top Hat, White Tie And Tails": it doesn't involve Ginger at all, but Fred makes up for that by being in breathtaking form, his performance exuding athleticism, grace, poise and assurance.

Ginger gets her turn to sing with "The Piccolino", a song designed to accord with the plot's Venetian setting. It is the weakest number in the movie, and Ginger sings it without conviction.

In order for the plot knots to unravel, it is necessary for Horace to be kept apart from his wife Madge for 24 hours, even though they haven't met for weeks and they are staying in the same hotel. This is highly artificial, but such flaws are rendered negligible by the sweeping climax of "Cheek To Cheek", the splendid finale in which Fred and Ginger get to dance as lovers.

Verdict - Immortal stylish music and dance.

I'm only just now beginning to realize how silly the plot and some of the comedy was in this movie. When I watched it, it was perfectly wonderful, and I smiled all the way through. Fred and Ginger, of course, are perfect, whether dancing so memorably to the likes of "Isn't It a Lovely Day" and "Cheek to Cheek" or pitching woo. Edward Everett Horton, Eric Blore, and Helen Broderick kept it moving with their throughly entertaining comedy relief. Even almost 65 years after its premeire, it's still in tip-top condition, both in the print and in its impact, on first viewing, at least. (I'm afraid to watch it again, for fear the impact will be destroyed.)

I've seen almost all of Fred and Ginger's pictures since viewing this. Some are good, some less so, and all have their moments of excellence. But none of them matched this one in my mind for sheer feel-goodness. The ones that came closest were Swing Time, Shall We Dance, and The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle and The Barkleys of Broadway, the last two because they had quite plausible stories, (and in the case of Castle, one based on real life). But still, Top Hat is Fred and Ginger at their best, and hopefully will always stay that way in my mind.

The dancer Jerry Travers (Fred Astaire) meets his friend and producer Horace Hardwick (Edward Everett Horton) at the conservative Thackeray Club in London and Horace invites Jerry to spend the night in his hotel. Jerry is excited with the show and has a "dance attack", tap dancing in the room and disturbing the guest Dale Tremont (Ginger Rogers) that is lodged in the room below. Dale goes upstairs to complain against the noise and meets Jerry and they flirt with each other.

On the next morning, Dale mistakes the single Jerry for the married Horace and becomes upset with her flirtation. When she learns that Horace is the husband of her friend Helen Broderick (Madge Hardwick), there are many complications and confusions in the lives of the two friends.

"Top Hat" is another wonderful film from the Golden Age of Hollywood, with delightful confusion and musical numbers. The gags are very funny and the song "Cheek to Cheek" was nominated to the 1936 Oscar in the category Best Music, Original Song. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "O Picolino"

When whipping up the froth of a musical comedy most creators and commentators forget that fateful second word . . . COMEDY. Not to take away from Astaire & Rogers' beautiful balletic grace, but no one ever gave more comedy more modestly yet more professionally than Edward Everett Horton. His triple-barreled name alone suggests haughty dignity and sniffing puritanism, and his role in this film, as in so many others, gives him ample scope to screw up his mouth in petty disdain, look aghast at social blunders, and sputter in disbelief over the foibles of others while generously ignoring his own idiocies. Horton is a reactor, one which boosts a fairly pedestrian plot to the Moon & beyond. Like Margret DuMont with the Marx Brothers, there is something about the pernickity Horton that begs us to tilt his top hat and fling a banana peel his way just for the delightful reaction we are sure of getting. Perplexed or chagrined, the hatchet-faced Horton is a monument to the lost art of supporting clown -- those dumb bunnies and prissy busybodies that used to inhabit movies and give them life & breath even when the big-shot stars were off the screen. Horton had impeccable timing in delivering a line or flashing a double-take -- you feel he could just as easily count the nano-seconds between the neutron pulses of an atom. If he seems to intrude too much into the musical numbers of this movie it's simply because the director/editor must have been overly fond of his coy mugging. I recommend that music lovers rewatch this film and concentrate on Edward Everett Horton. Your attention will be well-rewarded with deep chuckles and an abiding affection for this New England zany.