"Flying Down to Rio" and the Power of Intimate Dance

Fred Astaire made his film debut in 1933's "Dancing Lady" as a dancer named, um, Fred Astaire. Preceding that film there had been a screen test where the evaluator wrote these infamous words: "Can't act. Slightly bald. Can dance a little."

In his second film, 1933's "Flying Down to Rio," Astaire has worked his way up to a fictional last name -- he's Fred Ayres, musician and best friend to dashing bandleader Roger Bond (Gene Raymond). The dominant storyline of the movie is a romance between Roger and the fair Belinha (Dolores Del Rio), even though she has been promised in wedlock to Roger's best friend (Raul Roulien).

But in film and dance history, of course, the importance of "Flying Down to Rio" has very little to do with that plot -- it has to do with the pairing of Astaire and Ginger Rogers as a sensual, elegant, in-sync dance team.

By the time she appeared in "Flying Down to Rio," Rogers had already appeared in two huge musical hits for Warner Bros. -- "42nd Street" and "Gold Diggers of 1933" -- that contained elaborate production numbers choreographed by Busby Berkeley. But she really hadn't been a featured dancer in either film -- in fact, in "42nd Street" her character is chosen to replace the tempramental star (Bebe Daniels), but Rogers steps aside to give the role to the endearing, leadfooted Ruby Keeler in a star-making turn.

So even though Rogers was the better known of the Astaire-Rogers pair, she really hadn't had a chance to show her dancing chops onscreen.

Here Rogers is the band's singer, Honey Hale, and she and Astaire aren't romantic partners, at least not overtly -- they just like to dance together, and "The Carioca" is the first opportunity they get to strut their stuff:



And in one other scene, Astaire does some freestyle stuff, and the actors look like they actually are enjoying it, not just pretending:



Astaire comes to this movie fully formed -- of course, he had been a star on Broadway, so his dancing style was established. And his distinctive style of dress is already evident -- button-down collar, tie tucked into his pants, contrasting belt, two-toned shoes to make sure we're looking where we're supposed to be looking.

The finale of the film is the fabled "girls on biplanes" number, and even though it's clearly shot in the studio, it still has the ability to make your palms clammy:

   

The big finish is a nod to the tremendously successful Warner musicals, but what makes "Flying Down to Rio" unique is that it -- and other Astaire-Rogers musicals -- is an anti-Warner's musical. The power comes not from spectacle but from a couple, dancing with and playing off of each other. That's what makes their performances together timeless.

Here are the full film credits, and here's the trailer:

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"Dancing Lady" and the Crawford Stomp

Robert Osborne, the urbane host of Turner Classic Movies, never ever badmouths a movie or a star. He might struggle to find something nice to say about the Bowery Boys in "Dig That Uranium," but he'd find it.

That's why it's so interesting to watch him describe Joan Crawford's dancing ability (spoiler alert: she doesn't have any). He raises an eyebrow and his eyes glaze for a second and he uses euphemisms like "energetic" and "unique." "She's very game," he says, and you wonder if he isn't dying to add, "... like a moose."

So let's get this straight -- dancing did not come naturally to Joan Crawford. The irony is that, over at Warner Bros., Ruby "Leadfoot" Keeler wasn't much better, but she was making one musical after another and stomping her way across America's aorta.

Still, for the most part I come to praise Crawford, not to bury her. The 1933 film "Dancing Lady" was her only out-and-out musical, and it has a lot to recommend it. It has a supporting cast that includes everyone from Clark Gable to the Three Stooges, and the screenplay by Allen Rivkin and P.J. Wolfson is filled with the same kind of backstage wisecracking and racy dialogue you'll find in "42nd Street." In several interesting ways, however, "Dancing Lady" comes up short when compared to that classic.

Crawford plays Janie Barlow, who lives to dance and vice versa. She's hoofing in the chorus of a burlesque show when she catches the eye of playboy Tod Newton (Franchot Tone), who's out slumming with his friends. When the show is raided, Tod bails Janie out of jail and tries to help her get a job on Broadway, in a new show directed by Patch Gallagher (Gable). Patch resents Janie getting special treatment, but she wins him over with her gunk and spumtion -- er, spunk and gumption. For instance, take this scene in Patch's workout room:


Let's also add that Crawford is flat out gorgeous in this movie. Her eyes could dance, at least.

And Gable is easily her match. It's fun to watch them verbally spar -- it's even funnier when they do it while the Three Stooges, as stagehands, are doing their "spread out" routine in the background:


"Dancing Lady" also was the debut film of Fred Astaire, who plays a featured dancer named, um, Fred Astaire. (Hey, nobody knew who he was at that point!) When Crawford partners with Astaire, it isn't pretty -- one floats like a butterfly, and the other lumbers like a caterpillar with gout.

The musical numbers in "Dancing Lady" occur toward the end, and this is really where "42nd Street" leaves the movie in the dust. "42nd Street" had songs like "Young and Healthy," "Shuffle Off to Buffalo" and the title song. Sure, the songs were given outrageously imaginative stagings by Busby Berkeley, but they were good songs to begin with, snappy and wittily written. In "Dancing Lady," by contrast, we have the mundane "Dancing Lady" and "Let's Go Bavarian," with lyrics that include the lines "Here in Bavaria/They take good care of ya." There's nothing like a German number to bring a show to a grinding halt. These numbers aren't just bad imitations, they're anti-Berkeley -- they try to do with scale alone what Berkeley did with scale and imagination. Get a load of the ending to "Let's Go Bavarian":


Foam in your face! Aaaaah!

The final number, "Rhythm of the Day," shows a bit more imagination, but by then you're looking for the exit even if you're sitting in your living room. Finally, after the show is proven a success, Crawford confronts Gable. She's broken up with Tone, and she's gonna be a star. Oh, and they love each other.

Gable: What it is this you're dishing out?

Crawford: Can't you take it? (They kiss.)

Here's a preview from "Dancing Lady":