L'amour vient en dansant

Barely five minutes into the film and only thirty seconds long, a small jewel is not to be missed in this vintage 1941 musical, as it ranks among the best dance numbers to be seen from the golden age of Hollywood. It's where Fred Astaire casually asks Rita Hayworth to follow him on a complex tap routine set to Cole Porter's "Boogie Barcarole". That Astaire performs flawlessly is to be expected, but the stunning 23-year old Hayworth is startling in her precision and élan. Not only is she absurdly beautiful in her crisp rehearsal togs, but she matches Astaire step for step with unbridled confidence and with her long, gorgeous gams perfectly synchronized with his. The rest of the number, performed with an army of similarly dressed dancers, is not nearly as interesting especially since the fusion between boogie-woogie and classical feels forced.

The movie itself, directed by Sidney Lanfield and written by Michael Fessier and Ernest Pagano, is a silly mistaken identity affair that feels lifted from one of Astaire's earlier pairings with Ginger Rogers and then retrofitted into a military theme. Hardly a stretch, he plays Bob Curtis, a Broadway dancer and choreographer who works for philandering producer Martin Cortland, played by Algonquin wit Robert Benchley. Cortland has his eyes on chorus dancer Sheila Winthrop and attempts to give her a diamond bracelet until his wife Julia mistakes the gift for her. He pretends the bracelet is from Curtis, which of course, leads to larger complications, especially when Curtis gets drafted and his superior officer turns out to be Sheila's intended fiancé. Off the dance floor and in her first leading role, Hayworth, already in her 38th film, is charming as Sheila, although Frieda Inescort easily steals all her scenes as the deadpan Julia, a perfect match to the acerbic Benchley.

Lowbrow comic shenanigans are interspersed with the Robert Alton-choreographed musical numbers. The highlights are an impressive Astaire tap solo set to "Since I Kissed My Baby Goodbye" and two more duets with Hayworth - the alluring rumba, "So Near and Yet So Far", and the infectious "Wedding Cake Walk" where the pair get married amid a dress-alike chorus, do a mean Harlem shuffle and tap-dance atop a white cake shaped like a tank. In fact, opening two months before Pearl Harbor, the film portends the upcoming war with patriotic ensemble numbers like "Shootin' the Works for Uncle Sam". The 2003 DVD includes trailers for this film as well as two classic Hayworth vehicles, the career-defining Gilda, and future husband Orson Welles' pulp classic, The Lady from Shanghai. The movie is very lightweight, but Astaire's artistry is always worthwhile in any setting, and it's easy to see why Hayworth became the fantasy figure of many an American soldier.

I think this film is a delightful comedy, with all players playing their respected roles beautifully. I especially love the dance steps and musical number done by Astaire and Hayworth during rehearsal at the beginning of the movie.

Dance arranger escapes to the army after his daffy boss can't seem to keep his women properly sorted.

Expert mix of comedy, dance, and glamour. The glamour's supplied by Hayworth who's—in a word—simply dazzling (okay, two words). Her appearance in Gilda (1946) may have supplied the smoldering sex appeal, but this one supplies the sheer beauty. Plus she cuts a pretty good rug with the incomparable Astaire who turns in his usual nimble footed magic. Of course, putting the rail-thin danceman in the army is a stretch, but the script doctors manage to turn his weight trick into a chuckle.

Then there's the terminally befuddled Robert Benchley (Mr. Cortland) who can't seem to tell a backscratcher from a bracelet or his wife from a chorus girl. Pairing his nonsense with the classy, no-nonsense Inescort (Mrs. Cortland) is a comedic masterstroke. I love his I'm-caught-again stammer as he withers under her glare. Then too, the chorus girls send-off for the soldier boys in the train station is a real eye-catcher and masterpiece of staging. It may not be the dance centerpiece, but it does brim over with genial high spirits.

If I didn't know better (release date, Sept. 1941), I would have guessed this was a WWII morale booster. But clearly the big one is on the horizon, and I'll bet this 90-minutes of escape played in a ton of overseas bases. After all, what GI would not fight to keep the Hayworths back home safe and secure. But happily you don't need to be a GI or his girl to enjoy this expert blend of dance and whimsy, courtesy a stellar cast, a clever script, and Columbia studios.

I initially thought this one was the lesser of the two pairings. But I have to admit this film- which puts its audience squarely into the start of World War II- is quite sharp, script-wise, and quite lyrical, music-wise. Astaire's dance director shows an early but distant attraction to chorus dancer Hayworth (and vice-versa), but is drafted into the Army (not to mention repeatedly banished to the guardhouse for various insubordination) before they can live happily ever after. They were a sweet coupling, despite their 19-year age difference, and Hayworth, as others have mentioned, was quite a revelation as a tap and ballroom dancer. All of their dances are performances only, not love scenes (which are the duets I have always preferred), but they are sensational. The requisite 'big number' is the finale, the "Wedding Cake Walk" (you'll do a double-take at the last image of the tank-shaped wedding cake), and there is an ensemble dance at the start of the film called "Boogie Barcarolle." But two numbers stand out: Astaire's solo dance in the guardhouse, sung by a black jazz chorus (uncredited, called the Delta Rhythm Boys) and entitled "Since I Kissed My Baby Goodbye." Elegant tapping by Astaire is blended with a rich bass vocal by Lucius Brooks. The other number is Astaire and Hayworth's dress rehearsal "So Near and Yet So Far," a stunning rumba which shows off Hayworth in a sheer black gown and expands into intricate layers of choreography. This is one of the last films to show Ms. Hayworth as a brunette; her hair is no longer black, but it is not yet red either, but shortly after this outing her tresses went completely red as she began doing doing Technicolor films. Their follow-up film, "You Were Never Lovelier," had more of the standard romantic shenanigans and more lyrical dance numbers, but this first one was more screwball comedy and, in a sense, more of a challenge to pull off.

I have to differ with the viewer who feels that though Rita Hayworth was a marvelous dancer she did not measure up to Ginger Rogers as the partner of Fred Astaire. Rita's dancing was so graceful that she was the perfect match for the stupendous Astaire. Her beauty in this movie is a thing to behold. Now after all these years we can only wish that they included a bunch of other dances instead of all the silliness. How can it be that such a lovely as Rita would have such a difficult life? I wonder if the talented Hayworth ever realized that it would be her early dancing that would really be her lasting legacy and if she did would she have given us more to appreciate for the years. Watching her dance as a young woman is a joy that will be repeated for generations.