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Nothing like a shore leave, as Donen and Kelly would later proclaim, sailors not so much seasick as sick of the sea, so goes their song. ("The Atlantic isn't romantic" and "the Pacific isn't terrific," the Frisco chop-suey joint however is Paradise.) The former hoofer (Fred Astaire) joined the Navy following a rejected marriage proposal, his old partner in "high-class patter and genteel dancing" (Ginger Rogers) now performs in satin at the clip joint—their official reunion is scored to "Let Yourself Go," a contest on the ballroom floor. Makeovers are a contemporary necessity ("That's why they put brass on battleships"), thus the heroine's mousy sister (Harriet Hilliard) doffs her glasses and catches the eye of the Texan galoot (Randolph Scott), the hero's shipmate. The family inheritance is a schooner in need of a skipper, Astaire's lessons have the "nautical nitwits" waltzing on deck. "You know, there's a difference between dancing and wrestling." The seduction is less ethereal this time around, Mark Sandrich adjusts the rowdiness accordingly, complete with a capuchin monkey saluting in tiny stripes and cap. (Peroxide-blonde Lucille Ball gets to sling a zinger at an amorous mug: "Tell me, little boy, did you get a whistle or a baseball bat with that suit?") "I'm Putting All My Eggs in One Basket" sends up the duo's famed perfection with a humorous lack of synchronicity, though the high point remains "Let's Face the Music and Dance," Irving Berlin's masterpiece and a celestial twirl in the face of death. The fickle roulette, the pistol in the tuxedo and the dame on the ledge, "there may be trouble ahead..." (Potter simultaneously exalts and defiles it in Pennies from Heaven.) With Astrid Allwyn, Betty Grable, Harry Beresford, Russell Hicks, Brooks Benedict, and Ray Mayer. In black and white.
--- Fernando F. Croce |