Day 15: I Got Rhythm

AN AMERICAN IN PARIS (1951)
Directed by Vincinte Minnelli
Starring: Gene Kelly, Leslie Caron, Oscar Levant, Nina Foch

When you watch a movie that won the Oscar for Best Picture, is on top-ten lists all over the world and is beloved by millions, you have certain expectations.  I know I did for An American in Paris.  I was fully prepared to be bowled over.  And I wasn't.

Don't get me wrong, it's good.  It's really good.  But when people hype the ever-lovin' crap out of a film, calling it a "game changer" or a "tour de force" or what have you, it tends to make me expect something earth-shattering.  And what I found here was a colorful, funny, enjoyable film - nothing more, nothing less.

Now the film has many strengths, not the least of which being Gene Kelly, who plays Jerry Mulligan, an ex-G.I. turned painter living in Paris.  Kelly is a dancing beast, who can belt out a tune and kick up a storm better than just about anybody.  And the thing I love most about watching Kelly is the athleticism with which he dances.  He's one of the few who can make dancing look manly.  He's not as elegant as Fred Astaire, but that's okay.  Kelly was more the "everyman" than the snooty Astaire was, and it works even better here, as Mulligan pursues the sprightly (but engaged) Lise (Caron) while being pursued himself by a slick but lusty art dealer (Foch). 

Most of this movie is pretty standard song and dance fare with two major exceptions.  First, we have Jerry's friend Adam (Levant), who is a concert pianist who lives in Jerry's building.  Frustrated that he can't musically express what is in his heart of hearts, he lies down on the bed and fantasizes that he's performing Gershwin's "Piano Concerto in F Major" (thanks, IMDb!) in a crowded concert hall.  Not too odd, until we see that he's imagining himself playing every single instrument in the orchestra.  Oh, and he's the conductor, too.  And the audience.  So...no major ego problems there, eh?

The second is at the end - a 17-minute ballet sequence that takes place in Jerry's head after he finds out he can't have the girl of his dreams.  He and Lise dance all over Paris and through paintings by the likes of Van Gogh and Toulouse-Letrec.  The music and the dance and the swirling of color are all quite a sight to behold, and we see what could have been with Jerry and Lise.  But alas, it was not to be.  In the final scene, Jerry finds the red rose he gave Lise laying on the ground, and he picks it up and regards it mournfully as the music fades.  The End.

OH NO, WAIT.  Lise's now-ex fiancee comes drives back to the party and drops her off, because...I don't really know.  We never hear the conversation, between them, so we have to assume that he just wants Lise to be happy.  Or maybe he thought, "Wow, your emotions turn on a dime.  I can't spend the rest of my life with you."  Or maybe he said something a lot more unsavory.  We don't know.  But it just can't be a 1950's musical if the guy doesn't get the girl.  Well this time, it is the detrement of the picture. See, if we had just faded out, we could have had a great artistic ending and the audience could have left the theater knowing that it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.  But no, it's the Fifties and we just can't do that.  Slap that happy ending on there!  Ship it out!  Now, just sit back and rake in the cash.

I don't know, maybe I'm just too jaded, but that last minute of film almost completely ruined the picture for me.  It was fine up until this guy drops off his ex-fiancee to be with another man.  And he's got a smile on his face, for Pete's sake!  It's totally unrealistic.  Some would argue that that's what going to the movies is all about, they have a point.  But for me, it just didn't play.

But I'd definitely watch it again.  I'd just push the Stop button one minute before the end.