'S Wonderful, 'S Marvelous, 'S Gershwin

I saw it when it aired and I was a teen. Although I was into James Taylor, Stevie Wonder, Todd Rundgren, Yes, Earth Wind & Fire as well as all the other contemporary pop artists of my youth at the time, I was a huge Gershwin fan, so I caught the show, in my parents living room and I remember enjoying it mostly. I especially liked Astaire's performances, so I bought the record album of the show when it came out soon after the airing. It was on a small label and I'm now kind of amazed that it was released as an album. Actually, looking back from here, I'm now amazed at the interesting cast chosen for this variety show (by now an extinct genre). Even more amazed to consider Fred Astaire was in his 70's. Love Jack Lemmon being included! I'm no longer a teenager, but I'll still occasionally listen to Astaire's tracks on this LP. I'll watch the show again if I ever stumble upon it...

To give genius it's due, especially old genius, is it fair to criticize a seventy three year old artist, perhaps the greatest singer/dancer this country ever produced, for not having the heat, the spunk and energy he had fifty years before when he trod the boards with his sister, Adele? Television is a cool medium, and was there every anyone more cool, more contained than the great Astaire? The word "grace" has often been applied to him as well, and here in this 1972 TV special we have a perfect example of a great man growing old gracefully. He chooses not to dance, and why not? Isn't it better that we retain our memories of that perfection? But he did choose to sing however in the inimitable voice of his--every note perfectly in tune, every syllable enunciated immaculately, and every sentiment expressed. The songs are pure Gershwin as Gershwin first heard them sung, and in the simplicity of their presentation we can relish their wit and originality. In the archives of television, we have the embarrassing evidence of other old men of his generation making fools of themselves (Groucho, for instance), performing badly when they should have stayed home in bed. But Fred always knew exactly how much or how little to give. Never too much and never to little. The word is "class." Class like old cognac only gets better with age.

Firstly, I should clarify straight off the bat that I haven't seen this rare 1972 television special in its entirety, and that the following comments reflect the two ten-minute clips that I was able to view online, featuring Fred Astaire and Jack Lemmon. This special was originally broadcast on January 17, 1972, and was intended as a tribute to George (1898-1937) and Ira Gershwin (1896-1983), two brothers who forever shaped Hollywood musicals. With George composing and Ira providing the lyrics, the pair collaborated to produce countless unforgettable tunes. When his brother passed away prematurely in 1937, Ira drew strength from one of the songs that they wrote together, the Academy Award-winning "They Can't Take That Away From Me," performed by Fred Astaire in 'Shall We Dance (1937).' Several stars appeared in the special, most notably Astaire, then seventy-three years of age, and host Jack Lemmon. No dancing is performed by cinema's legendary musical performer, but his passion for his work is nonetheless obvious for all to see, and Mr. Astaire still radiates pure class.

Fred Astaire's first few numbers are interesting but not particularly compelling. Lemmon introduces him via a nostalgic radio show announcement ("beep-ity, beep, beep, beep!"), but Astaire sits at quite a distance from the camera, and so we're constantly zooming in on his figure, unable to decipher any genuine emotions from the shadows (the poor clip quality didn't help). Fred tries to keep up with the tunes, but some of the transitions are rather choppy, and it's rather disheartening that he's forced to perform "Let's Call The Whole Thing Off" all by himself, without the comedic backing of Ginger Rogers. Of course, everything picks up considerably when we move onto the Gershwins' "The Babbitt And The Bromide" {from 'Ziegfeld Follies (1946)'}, with a befuddled Jack Lemmon filling in for Gene Kelly, and emphasising the physical comedy to its maximum. Worth noting is that Astaire and Kelly would eventually reunite in 1976, tappin' away together in the wonderful 'That's Entertainment, Part II.' For his finale, Astaire performs "They Can't Take That Away From Me" directly to the camera, and, needless to say, completely nails it.