by Gene Kelly & Stanley Donen, 1952.
Starring: Cyd Charisse, Douglas Fowley, Jean Hagen, Gene Kelly, Millard Mitchell, Rita Moreno, Donald O’Connor, Debbie Reynolds.
Rating: 10/10, 10/10.
Here’s another one of those films that define a concept. Black Orpheus defines beauty; Singin’ In The Rain defines joy.
It’s about Hollywood in, what, the 20’s? When movies first started to get sound. Don Lockwood (Kelly) and Lina Lamont (Hagen) are a star "couple" who have been in countless silent films together; the public loves them and there are all sorts of rumors about their being together. Don, though, despises the idiotic, self-obsessed Lina, who, on the other hand, believes the fan magazines when they say that the two are in love. Trouble arrives when the first "talkie," The Jazz Singer, starts raking in the benjamins. R.F. Simpson (Mitchell), the owner of the studio Lockwood and Lamont work for, makes them turn their latest film into a talking picture as well. The trouble is all with Lina: her voice is the most horrible thing imaginable—not at all what you’d expect from her glamorous image—and she can’t quite seem to figure out how to talk into the microphone. The test audience for the completed film laughs all the way through it. But then, Kathy Seldon (Reynolds), whom Don has fallen in love with, has the brilliant idea of making it into a musical. Don, being Gene Kelly, can certainly dance and sing, and all he has to do is dance around Lina to make it look like she’s dancing, too. Kathy will dub her own lovely voice over Lina’s. Hijinks, as usual, ensue.
God, I love this movie. It is filled with joy, joy, joy. Everyone has an image in their head of Kelly singin’ (and dancin’) in the rain, stomping in puddles, using his umbrella as a partner, and hanging off of lampposts. But that’s just the start. O’Connor, as Don’s best friend Cosmo trying to cheer up his depressed friend, performs probably the most incredible dance sequence I have ever seen, the "Make ‘em Laugh" routine. He lies on the ground, trying to get up but acting as if his head is too heavy; he runs into walls and passing blocks of wood (they’re on a movie set); he runs up walls and flips over; he throws himself through a backdrop. The three of them (Don, Cosmo, and Kathy) do a lovely little number called "Good Morning," where they hop up and down stairs and jump over and onto couches (I’m not explaining that quite right—look at the picture on top to see what I mean), tapping all the way—Kathy, amazingly, keeping up with the men even though she’s wearing a skirt and heels. And the final scenes make me happier than probably anything else in the entire world.
One thing I’m struck by is the incredible grace of the lead characters. There is just one bit, right after they’ve figured out how to save their movie and right before the "Good Morning" song, where Kelly jumps and sits on a countertop. It’s just a little thing, unremarkable, not particularly important, but he does it with such extreme grace (and there is no other word for it) that I am just in awe. One does not see this sort of grace in films anymore.
Joy. This film is pure, condensed, REAL joy.
read roger ebert's essay on singin' in the rain