Had a ball last night with my nephews - sister and brother in law were out to a rare dinner with friends. I'd noticed a copy of "Singin' in the Rain" on sale at the local Big W, and - since no household should be without it - picked it up for them. The story's a bit hard to explain to a four-year old ("what's a star?" "what's a movie?" "what's in love?" "why is she wearing that thing?" "why are they dancing?") but not Donald O'Connor's immortal "Make 'em laugh," which had him screeching and hooting. His younger brother was chuckling and tittering (mainly at his brother's mirth, I think!). I guess I was making some noise, too. We watched the scene three times, then tried our hand at some of O'Connor's stunts. Well, mainly his unparalleled repertoire of falls and the bit involving a sofa and a rag doll and falling over the back. I'd say don't try these at home except we did and we're still standing, though precariously! If you don't know the scene, and even if you do and just saw it again last week, check it out: youtube's got it, of course.I'm not sure just why "Singin' in the rain" is such a great movie, or, I suppose I mean, why I love it so. The "Broadway Melody" scene with Cyd Charisse is trying (especially compared with the comparable scene in "The Band Wagon") and "Beautiful Girl" is tedious, but the rest... The title song is perfection itself, and "Good morning" something like my Platonic ideal of good friends. Part of what makes the film so timelessly winning is how surely it shows that the noblest human emotions and the most delightful thoughts are better expressed - and perhaps not fully expressed unless - danced! Another part is the way it uses one film innovation (technicolor) to replicate the effects of an earlier one (talkies), which allows a kind of recursive synaesthesia (or do I mean synesthetic recursiveness) into the future. But I'd be lying if I didn't also admit that Donald O'Connor's character Cosmo really speaks to me.
Now I can stop suffering and write that symphony!
