POETIC STORY DEDICATED TO GENE KELLY

Debbie Reynolds dancing with Gene Kelly in "Singin' in the Rain" (1952)

Debbie Reynolds grew up dirt-poor in Texas during the Depression. As a teenager in Burbank, California, she became the class clown, and, in 1948, she was crowned Miss Burbank by imitating Betty Grable. Warner Bros. signed her first, but Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer made her a star in SINGING IN THE RAIN. Gene Kelly (a tough taskmaster) taught her to dance from scratch.

As the critics at Cahiers du cinéma maintained, the "how" is as important as the "what" in the cinema. The look of an image, its balance of dark and light, the depth of the space in focus, the relation of background and foreground, etc. all affect the reception of the image. For instance, the shimmering Technicolor of a musical such as "Singin' in the Rain" suggests an out-of-this-world glitz and enchantment.

Gene Kelly kissing Janet Leigh in "It's a Big Country" (1951)

Leslie Caron kissing Gene Kelly in "An American in Paris" (1951) directed by Vincente Minnelli

Paris defined by the Impressionists was immortalized by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec with his paintings of disreputable nightspots such as the Moulin Rouge. Artists Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot, Vincent Van Gogh, Toulouse-Lautrec, and Paul Cézanne all painted the Moulin de la Galette on rue Tholozé. “Everything is about to disappear. You’ve got to hurry up, if you still want to see things.” -Paul Cézanne

Leslie Caron and Gene Kelly danced along the banks of the Seine to the strains of George Gershwin's "Our Love is Here to Stay."

"Together, Donen and Kelly directed some of the wittiest, most stylish and energetic musicals to emerge from MGM. Donen's elegant visual flair was the perfect accompaniment to Kelly's dynamically balletic choreography... Outside of their collaborations the pair's directing achievements were variable... The joint offerings, however, exude brio, style, and intelligent, appealing optimism." - Geoff Andrew (The Director's Vision, 1999)

-"If we remade "Singin' in the Rain" today, when Gene Kelly sings in the rain I think he'd be looking around to make sure he wasn't going to get mugged." -Stanley Donen in The New York Times, February 9, 1996.

A POETIC STORY DEDICATED TO GENE KELLY:

The clouds tumble and the raindrops gleam in his hair. A rutilant backdrop, a deserted nighttime street. His smile is wet and his wit is dry. He doesn't live in one world, but in two. The outer world consists of other people, buildings and rules, while the inner world is made up of his feelings, beliefs and dreams. Wearing a tigh sailor suit, going the subway, or tilting a straw hat, jumping high with a shiny cane, the only sounds that emanate from these cinematic halls are his soft musical murmurs, so far away that feel like champagne bubbles in my mind's ear. With rue my heart is laden when walking through one deserted filmstrip after another.

Going down Memory Lane I find him, numbingly strolling down this unique street. He arrives hotfooting from the studio lot, he stands alone outlining a splendid step, a nervine dance, wandering steadfast, performing tap at an unimaginable speed, awash with spotlights, glowing in the warm night. His reasoning is unerring, his weakness turns into kindness. He's Gene Kelly, whether in the European fairyland singing stiver-a-dozen ditties, or in the American heartland of the popular culture, holding romantic adrenaline, gazing at the flickering lights of the skyscrapers On the Town. The obscure stars above us light up and they drop down one by one while we dance, his words eventually latch onto my memory, and leave me no doubt his dream is not to envy, but to aspire, so I don't want to lose sight at what tomorrow still could be.

Jake Gyllenhaal leaving Urth Caffe

Jake Gyllenhaal leaves Urth Caffe after having lunch in Beverly Hills on 26 March, 2012

Gene Kelly: the Lone Hoofer

“Everything that Gene was, or was later to become, was already there in that act [‘The Magazine Page’ show in 1939]. His qualities were immediately apparent, and the surprising thing was, when you first looked at him, what struck you most was his charm and his clean-cut good looks. He was full of grace and vitality, and what I remember most of all was the effect he had on an audience. They just loved him. He could do no wrong. There was this magic - this “star quality” he exuded. His dancing was very athletic and he had the wonderful ability to make the most complicated things look ridiculously simple.” -Adolph Green ("Singin' in the Rain" screenwriter) on Gene Kelly

Gene Kelly and Betsy Blair with daughter Kerry (born on 16 October, 1942)

Betsy Blair had met Gene for the first time when she auditioned for Billy Rose's Diamond Horseshoe in 1940. She had borrowed a cousin's fur jacket plus a pill-box hat with protruding violets and, looking like Ann Sheridan, made her way to the Capitol Hotel. When she arrived, the ballroom was deserted. She looked around and saw Gene, 'I have a call from Mr. Rose', she said. 'He´s auditioning for dancers'. 'That's not until tomorrow', Gene said, 'You´ve made a mistake..., Are you a good dancer?' Betsy looked at this total stranger, whom she took for a busboy, thinking he was quite fresh! 'Actually I happen to be a very good dancer', she retorted. 'In that case', said Gene, 'I´ll see you tomorrow'. And he smiled at her. It wasn't until she returned the next morning that she realised he was the choreographer.

Betsy Blair visiting Gene Kelly during the run of "Pal Joey" (1940)

During the run of "Pal Joey" Gene Kelly was dating Betsy (who was 17 years old). By now her relationship with Gene was becoming serious, but remained 'pure'. 'I was doing everything in my power for it to be a bit less pure, but until Gene considered it was serious enough, he didn't touch me. His not making love to me was his way of showing me that he did love me, though at the time I didn't understand that and wondered what the hell was wrong with him - or me for that matter. I wasn't used to being treated with such consideration by men - particularly not men in the theatre. So I just had to be patient and wait'.

Gene Kelly's contract with David O. Selznick would begin, officially, in November of 1941. Gene decided that he was definitely 'serious' about Betsy and proposed to her. He said he couldn't go off to California without her and that, with a movie contract all signed and sealed, the time was at last right for him to marry and settle down. So, at 5 am one morning, outside the all-girls hotel at which she was still staying, he proposed to her. They got married on September 24, 1941. On November 11, they arrived in Los Angeles and made straight for the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.

In her autobiography, "The Memory of All That: Love and Politics in New York, Hollywood, and Paris" (2003), Betsy Blair wrote with notable affection towards Gene: “He treated me like a little angel... Gene was an honorable young man. What remained of his Catholicism manifested itself in his attitude to women. There were ‘good girls’ and ‘bad girls’, and I was an exaggeratedly good girl. He never made me feel rejected, rather that he was taking care of me. He’d let me spend the night sometimes, but he didn’t make love to me... He’d kiss me gently and explain that I was too young for more than that.” Gene said to her: “What I want is what I have, you — to pick flowers and read by the fireplace and sing around the house — my little white dove with the burnished feathers that wakes up every morning smiling.”

Gene Kelly and Betsy Blair in Central Park, 1941

Saturday and Sunday were the Kelly's volley-ball days, a sport Gene took as seriously as his work - and according to Bob Fosse, Gene played to win: 'He had a competitive streak in him that was quite frightening. At the same time, he had this tremendous Irish charm, and if he saw you were unhappy, he'd flash that smile at you and all was well'.

Kerry loved the idea of her father being famous, but again the 'prevailing ethos' in the Kelly household was that one must not be too proud, or boast. 'Though he was always surrounded by people who believed him to be as outgoing in his private life as he was on the screen, he was very complex and really rather lonely', Kerry recalled of his father, 'He was always restless - trying to prove something to himself all the time'.

Because Betsy was aware what the failure of their marriage would mean to Gene, she felt guilty about having to go through with the divorce. She also felt bad that their break-up coincided with the virtual disappearance of the screen musical. Now there wasn't even that to which he could cling. Nor did he have any really deep friendships.

'For all the scores of people he surrounded himself with', Betsy said, 'he was a very private man. People liked, respected and enjoyed him. But few people understood him. I always thought this was a pity, and never more so than after the divorce when, apart from Kerry, the only other person he could turn to was Jeannie [Coyne]. But he had no real close male friends. After Dick Dwenger, his best friend, was killed in the war, I felt that he should have another 'best friend'. I even introduced him to Paddy Chayefsky, who wrote 'Marty', because I knew that politically they were on the same side of the fence and should have a lot in common. But it didn't happen. After fifteen years of marriage and hundreds of people passing through our lives, I had to face the fact that Gene was a loner.

"Gene Kelly liberated the Hollywood musical and infused it with an infectious joie de vivre. He is one of the rare handful of originals who brought to the American cinema individuality and style. In a world starved of the special brand of innocence with which he invested Harry the Hoofer in 'The Time of Your Life' way back in 1939, Gene Kelly is more cherished now than ever before". -"Gene Kelly Biography" by Clive Hirschhorn

Laughs & Lilt: "Sullivan's Travels" (Preston Sturges), Gene Kelly (complex icon)

"Cold are the hands of time that creep along relentlessly, destroying slowly, but without pity, what which yesterday was young. Alone our memories resist this disintegration and grow more lovely with the passing years." -Preston Sturges

Preston Sturges with Joel McCrea in a swimming pool.


"Sullivan's Travels" (1941) - New Friends clip: Preston Sturges' masterpiece starring Joel McCrea and Veronica Lake about a Hollywood comedy director who poses as a bum to find out about the real world. In this scene he starts his trip at a local diner at the edge of town and meets the sultry Ms. Lake and forms a lasting friendship. Writer and film critic James Agee wrote of Sullivan's Travels: "A brilliant fantasy in two keys -- slapstick farce and the tragedy of human misery."


After his experiment ends, Sully (Joel McCrea) decides that he is too happy to make "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" and would rather make people laugh.

Veronica Lake and Joel McCrea as The Girl & John Lloyd Sullivan

In Preston Sturges' classic comedy of Depression-era America, filmmaker John L. Sullivan (Joel McCrea), fed up with directing profitable comedies like "Ants in Your Plants of 1939," is consumed with the desire to make a serious social statement in his upcoming film, "Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?" Unable to function in the rarefied atmosphere of Hollywood, Sullivan decides to hit the road, disguised as a tramp, and touch base with the "real" people of America. But Sullivan's studio transforms his odyssey into a publicity stunt, providing the would-be nomad with a luxury van, complete with butler (Robert Greig) and valet (Eric Blore). Advised by his servants that the poor resent having the rich intrude upon them, Sullivan escapes his routine and continues his travels incognito. En route, he meets a down-and-out failed actress (Veronica Lake).

With its almost Shakespearean combination of uproarious comedy and grim tragedy, Sullivan's Travels is Sturges' masterpiece and one of the finest movies about movies ever made. Cast: William Demarest, Porter Hall, Joel McCrea, Franklin Pangborn, Robert Warwick, Veronica Lake

Sullivan: "I'm sorry to disappoint you.... but I don't want to make O Brother, Where Art Thou? I haven't suffered enough to make O Brother, Where Art Thou?"

The film's last line is the clincher - the lesson he ultimately learned. He and the Girl look far off into the future as he reminisces about his experiences: "There's a lot to be said for making people laugh! Did you know that's all some people have? It isn't much but it's better than nothing in this cockeyed caravan! Boy!"


Gene Kelly (Pinky Benson) makes Shirley McLaine (Louisa May Foster) laugh in a scene from "What a way to go" (1964) directed by J. Lee Thompson

George Cukor’s frothy showbiz exposé integrates competing versions of events that play out in flashback during the libel trial of dancer-turned-memoirist Kay Kendall. Back during their dancing days as “Barry Nichols and Les Girls,” Kendall claims her fellow trouper Taina Elg had an affair with Gene Kelly (Barry Nichols); Elg claims it was Kendall; Kelly claims they’re both wrong, he loved les troisième girl, Mitzi Gaynor, now his wife. Who’s telling the truth? Featuring Cole Porter’s final film score and Kelly’s final starring appearance in a full-blown musical. Screenplay by John Patrick, from the story by Vera Caspary. Nominated for three Oscars, winning for Orry-Kelly’s costumes.

Gene Kelly in "Christmas Holiday" (1944) directed by Robert Siodmak

Without disparaging his towering achievements as triple threat, it is clear that Kelly's happy-go-lucky 'Yankee Doodle' dancin' boy image seems less resonant in today's pop culture vacuum. Despite superb supporting turns in "What a Way to Go!" and "Forty Carats", it is obvious that Kelly's grinning goodwill ambassador fell out of step with the sixties antiestablishment antiheroes. But Kelly's image does not need a rehabilitation so much as a reshifting "perception-wise," to paraphrase a tune from "It's Always Fair Weather".

Mesmerized by Gene's athleticized self-approval and tireless cherchez la femme-ing, critics and audiences have overlooked the contradictions in his cocky all-American huckster persona. Debuting as a draft dodger in "For Me and My Gal", Kelly used his charisma's sinister edge to limn a mother-fixated killer in "Christmas Holiday", camouflaged his rendition of a gigolo in "An American in Paris", deftly enacted a womanizing summer schlocker in "Marjorie Morningstar", and capped off his musical comedy career as a small-time fight promoter toying with a fix in "It's Always Fair Weather".

Reconsidering the Kelly persona from a distance of several decades, one can enjoy his eventual triumphs over shortcomings in "Singin' in the Rain", etc. It is a tribute to his unflappable charisma that unsavory character flaws all registered as temporary slippage, indiscretions cured by true love and transformed by joyfully aggressive dance. In his most seductive choreography ("The Pirate", "Cover Girl"), he seemed to be dancing his demons away, and it is time to credit him for a more complex image than previously assumed.

If his solo work reveals a pretentiousness that never darkened Astaire's sunny horizons, no male dancer was ever as sexually potent in tandem on-screen;

he can make a soft shoe with Debbie Reynolds an adventure in eros. It was barbarous of MGM not to lend him for "Guys and Dolls" and "Pal Joey". Kelly could take comfort in his singular contribution to the all-but-extinct musical form; time will reveal an icon more complex than the quixotic puddle jumper of "Singin' in the Rain". In film after film, this superb actor choked back darker impulses to earn his goodness; he is the all-American operator who plays all the angles, but ultimately seeks the light in a song-and-dance spotlight. Source: www.filmreference.com

That infamous scene in "A Clockwork Orange" (1971) -directed by Stanley Kubrick- where Malcolm McDowell’s character warbles "Singin’ in the Rain" while terrorizing a couple didn’t sit well with the man who immortalized the song: Gene Kelly. McDowell told Bill Newcott about their awkward encounter at a Hollywood party.

-Well as you know, when "Singing In The Rain" came out, for generations of people, him swinging around that lamp post and slapping in that water, and singing… it’s one of the most euphoric moments we’ve ever seen on film. So when I had to come up with something for this sequence, which involved my character in a very brutal situation, that’s when he’s happiest. So “Singing In The Rain” just popped out. I just started singing it, and Kubrick bought the rights and we redid the whole thing and incorporated it.

-I was invited to come to Hollywood by Warner Brothers. I came out and it was very nice to meet everybody. I had never been to Hollywood before. And some guy who was my minder said, “Hey, there’s a party in Beverley Hills tonight, Malcolm. Do you want to go, there’s going to be lots of stars there?” And I went, “Yeah!” I would love to!” And we go and he said, “Hey, you won’t believe this. Gene Kelly’s here. Would you like to meet him?” And I went, “Oh yeah!” So had his back to me and he tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Gene, I’d like to introduce you to Malcolm McDowell” and he looked at me… then turned around and walked off. But you know, I totally understood. I guess I kind of ruined his moment in a way. But of course, it was an homage to him, because it was so amazing. And so indelible in me as a person, that I blurted it out and started singing it.

Brilliant, electric, and always inventive, Gene Kelly defined the Golden Age of the movie musical, not only as the genre’s biggest star after WWII, but as an innovative dance choreographer and director (with underrated acting skills, to boot). His collaborations with choreographer/director Stanley Donen — including ON THE TOWN, SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN, and IT’S ALWAYS FAIR WEATHER — revolutionized dance on screen and the look of movie musicals.

Kelly and Donen’s work relocated prewar films’ penchant for escapism and fantasy to the real world, reflecting real-world concerns, and better integrating the dance and musical numbers into the characters’ story, even their psychology. This modern approach has ensured the lasting appeal of their work (also on display in the choreography for LIVING IN A BIG WAY, COVER GIRL, ANCHORS AWEIGH, and TAKE ME OUT TO THE BALL GAME).

In later years, Kelly played an ambassadorial role for the movie musical through his involvement with and appearances in the MGM anthologies THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT and THAT’S DANCING. Gene Kelly received the AFI Life Achievement Award in 1985.

Cyd Charisse and Gene Kelly in "Brigadoon" (1954) directed by Vincente Minnelli

“He wanted to create numbers in which the dancer did with his body what the actor did with words. He strove to devise a cinematic language of dance which replaced dialogue and told the audience what the character felt, thought, was.” —Gene Kelly biographer's Jeanine Basinger

Joel McCrea & Frances Dee video

Frances Dee & Joel McCrea in "Wells Fargo" (1937) directed by Frank Lloyd. Joel McCrea married actress Frances Dee in 1933, after they met while filming "The Silver Cord". They had three sons and remained together for 57 years until his death.

Katherine DeMille and Joel McCrea in "Banjo on My Knee" (1936) directed by John Cromwell

Joel McCrea and Laraine Day in "Foreign Correspondent" (1940) directed by Alfred Hitchcok

Joel McCrea & Frances Dee in "Wells Fargo" (1937) directed by Frank Lloyd.


Joel McCrea & Frances Dee video, featuring stills from Joel McCrea films: "Bed of Roses" with Constance Bennett, "Dead End" with Sylvia Sidney, "Birds of Paradise" with Dolores del Rio, "Union Pacific" with Barbara Stanwyck, "Primrose Path" with Ginger Rogers, "Sullivan's Travels" with Veronica Lake, "The Palm Beach Story" with Claudette Colbert, "The More the Merrier" with Jean Arthur, "The San Francisco Story" with Yvonne De Carlo, "Ride the High Country", etc. Soundtrack: "Everything I love" by Glenn Miller & His Orchestra, "Goodnight, sweetheart, it's time to go" by The Platters and "I'm looking for someone to love" by Buddy Holly & The Crickets

"Les Girls" (1957) by George Cukor - Full Movie HQ (Gene Kelly, Kay Kendall, Mitzi Gaynor)

"Les Girls": They’re the most vivacious… vexacious… flirtatious personalities in gay Paris!

"Les Girls" is a notable film for two reasons: Save for his brief musical numbers with Fred Astaire in That's Entertainment II, this George Cukor-directed effort marked Gene Kelly's last full-length, big screen appearance for the studio that made him a star. For Cole Porter aficionados, the 1957 release was bittersweet as it would be the final project graced by original songs from the legendary composer.

Set in Europe, "Les Girls" spins the tale of cabaret dancer Sybil Wren (Kay Kendall), the focus of a libel suit instigated by former roomie/stage partner Angéle Ducross (Taina Elg), brought upon by revelations made in her memoirs. With American export Joy Henderson (Mitzi Gaynor), the threesome were part of a musical act produced by Barry Nichols (Gene Kelly), an "all work and no play" professional whose whole life revolved around the stage. Or at least, until fetching Angéle entered the picture. Playing a harder edged yet toned down variation on his Don Lockwood role in "Singin' In The Rain", Kelly is as smooth as ever.

The trio of lovely ladies compliment their co-star, and each other, beautifully: Kay Kendall's Golden Globe®-winning turn as Lady Sybil is delightful, Taina Elg offers appealing charm and Mitzi Gaynor is quiet sexiness personified (making one wonder why this talented dancer/singer never caught on with movie audiences). Source: www.digitallyobsessed.com


"Les Girls" (1957) directed by George Cukor, starring Gene Kelly, Kay Kendall, Mitzi Gaynor and Taina Elg

Happy Anniversary, Joan Crawford!

"There will never be a bigger movie star than Joan Crawford. And, in our business, that is probably the largest legacy one can leave." — Jack Valenti, President of the Motion Picture Association of America

Someone once asked producer Jack Warner to define the word “star.” He replied: “I can give it to you in just two words—Joan Crawford.” — Rona Barrett, 1977

"She came up the hard way and she’s proud of it. If she could go back and change every circumstance that made her the Joan Crawford of today, you can be sure that there is one thing Joan wouldn’t change: She’d still want to be born out of the Babylon of the earth, she’d still want to be born south of the tracks. She’s grateful for that kind of a beginning because everything she owns today she earned. Hollywood never gave her anything. She gave Hollywood something…" — Robert White, Los Angeles Times, 1939

Joan Crawford's Oscar-winning performance for "Mildred Pierce" (1945) directed by Michael Curtiz

"Joan Crawford is Hollywood." — Barbara Ribakove, Photoplay, 1975