Des jupons à l'horizon

Esther Williams is top-billed and dripping-wet as usual (an underwater ballet with two cloying kiddies is especially hard to take), but the truly frightening presence here is that of Vivian Blaine, fast on the heels of her Broadway triumph in "Guys and Dolls." She had been a likeable but unremarkable singer at 20th in the 40s, then "G&D" gave her a new persona in the character of Adelaide, the adenoidal, Brooklynese nightclub dancer. Here she's Adelaide in all but name, and her rambunctiousness makes Betty Hutton look timid. Her overemphatic line readings and hoydenishness quickly become wearing, but you don't forget her.

Esther, who sang acceptably and had a nice comic sense in addition to her aquatic gifts, is a gracious presence and has more to act than usual. Here she's a headstrong rich girl who learns humility--not exactly a fresh idea, but it's spun out gracefully by screenwriter Isobel Lennart, and given some appealing feminist filigrees. The songs are OK, second-lead Joan Evans is dull, and the nearly two-hour running time feels padded out, especially with a couple of specialty numbers thrown in. But it's a decent Technicolor time-passer, with all that postwar Hollywood patriotism that seems to be coming back in vogue.