L'entreprenant Mr 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 She's playing a withdrawn character, though, and does give off passion when called upon.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.

... because there's not that much Fred and Ginger actually dancing together versus the other Astaire and Rogers films of the 1930s.

As for the plot, Fred Astaire plays Peter Peters, an American ballet dancer billed as "Petrov". Publicity has him billed as such so that he can cultivate the public persona of a demanding and temperamental Russian. He falls for fellow American singer/dancer Linda Keene (Rogers) and finds out she is sailing the next morning on the Queen Anne. He also books passage on the same ship at the same time, hoping to strike up an acquaintance with her on the voyage from Europe to New York. Both Peters and his manager Jeffrey Baird (Edward Everett Horton) tell a woman who is basically stalking Peters -to put it in modern terms - that Peters is secretly married to Linda Keene in order to get her off his case. Instead, this rumor begins to circulate in the press with Linda blaming Peter for telling the press this falsehood, and the resulting misunderstanding threatening any burgeoning relationship. Complications ensue that include a rather frightening looking mannequin in a comedic situation.

It was good to have Eric Blore and Edward Everett Horton back in larger doses in this film. Astaire always made a great comic foil for Horton and Blore and Horton always played off of each other exceedingly well.

Astaire and choreographer Hermes Pan try some new and novel numbers in this one. Included is "slap that bass" with Fred dancing and an African American band singing and playing in the engine room of a ship. Also, there is the dance duo with Astaire and Rogers doing a dance number on roller skates. Astaire liked to do his dance numbers in one take, without editing, but the complexity of this number required multiple takes, and Astaire realized that. The duo skated 80 miles before shooting was complete. Then there is the ballet number that is part of the big finale with ballet soloist Harriet Hoctor whose specialty was performing an elliptical backbend. It hurt just to watch her, and she is probably one of the few people on earth who could kick herself in the head.

If you like the other Astaire/Rogers collaborations you'll like this one. Sure, it's the same basic romantic formula, but the song and dance numbers always delight.

"Shall We Dance" is for this viewer one of the great Astaire-Rogers films, even if some of the comments don't agree. I love it because of the glorious Astaire dancing.

One of my all-time favorite numbers of his is "Slap that Bass" in which Astaire dances to the rhythm of machines. Oh, those pirouettes! Amazing. I rewound and watched it twice more.

Astaire plays a ballet dancer named Petrov. In real life, Astaire was loathe to do ballet because he was self-conscious about his large hands. Who's looking at his hands? Petrov falls hard for singer Linda Keene (Rogers, who else) and arranges to follow her on the same ship to New York.

Everyone has a great time, including the comic relief, Eric Blore, Edward Everett Horton, and Jerome Cowan. One of the best scenes occurs as Horton and Cowan smuggle a dummy of Linda (from a number she never did) into Astaire's stateroom to photograph the two together and prove they're married (they're not. And Blore getting arrested and telephoning to get bailed out of the Susquehana jail is wonderful.

But "Shall We Dance," like the previous Astaire-Rogers pairings, isn't about the plot, it's about the music and dance. What music, what dance.

George and Ira Gershwin's score includes "I've Got Beginner's Luck," and "They All Laughed," both sung by Astaire, "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off" (sung and danced by the pair on roller skates), "They Can't Take That Away From Me" (sung by Astaire), and the music later becomes a ballet sequence with Astaire and Harriet Hoctor. Astaire and Rogers dance to "Shall We Dance" after Astaire sings the number and the two reprise "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off."

You can't beat "Shall We Dance" for pure escapism, breathtaking dance, and great songs.

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.