Finian's Rainbow

Opening on Broadway in 1947 with music by Burton Lane and lyrics by E.Y. "Yip" Harburg (who wrote the lyrics for 1939's THE WIZARD OF OZ), FINIAN'S RAINBOW was an unexpected smash that generated one pop classic after another--"How Are Things In Glocca Morra?," "Old Devil Moon," and "Look To The Rainbow" to name but three. But when talk turned to a film version, not a single studio in Hollywood would touch it: although the story was fantasy, it was also extremely satirical, contained elements that had a decidedly socialist edge, and made one of the most wickedly funny statements on racism seen up to that time. With Hollywood operating under the production code and the nation drifting into the communist paranoia of the 1950s, the whole thing was impossibly hot. And so FINIAN'S RAINBOW remained off the screen for over twenty years... until 1968, when a sudden splash of popular screen musicals prompted Warner Brothers to bankroll it.

The plot is deliberately ridiculous, and finds Irishman Finian McLonergan (Fred Astaire) and his long suffering daughter Sharon (Petula Clark) in Tennessee, where Finian plans to bury a crock of gold stolen from a leprechaun (Tommy Steele) on the theory that the land around Fort Knox will make the gold grow. But things take an unexpected turn when they arrive in Rainbow Valley, where they encounter a commune of black and white tobacco sharecroppers doing battle with a viciously bigoted Senator (Keenan Wynn.) And when daughter Sharon is outraged by the Senator's racism and happens to be standing by the hidden crock of gold--she accidentally "wishes" the Senator black! Unlike the 1947 stage show, the big screen version of FINIAN'S RAINBOW tanked at the box office, and it is little wonder: both producers and then-novice director Francis Ford Coppola made a host of very basic mistakes with the material, the first of which was not keeping the film within its original 1940s context; they instead give it a 'contemporary' tone that not only undercuts the fanciful storyline but makes many of the story's elements seem heavy-handed. In the process they manage to blunt the edge of the original in a very significant sort of way. There are also a number of cinematic problems with the movie, which feels awkwardly filmed and still more awkwardly edited, and the film visibly shifts between outdoor set-ups and studio soundstage sets in a very uncomfortable sort of way.

All of that said, there is still a great deal to enjoy in FINIAN'S RAINBOW--the aforementioned score for one and the truly memorable performances for another. Astaire is timeless, Tommy Steele almost walks away with the show, Keegan Wynn (in spite of some rather ill-advised make-up) gives a memorable performance as the bigoted Senator, and Al Freeman Jr. is absolutely hilarious in the sequence where he applies for the job of butler in the Senator's home--I laugh just thinking about it! But the real revelation here is Petula Clark. Best known as a pop singer, Clark is perfection as Sharon McLonergan; it is a tremendous pity that she was never again so well-cast on screen. And together they manage to gloss over most of the film's weaknesses; if you're a musical fan, you're likely to enjoy it.

Gary F. Taylor, aka GFT, Amazon Reviewer

This was Fred Astaire's last full-blown musical movie ("That's Entertainment II" is not counted). The original play, written back in the 1930's, dealt more with the organization of a union by a bunch of poor sharecroppers. But by the time this movie was finally set to be made, unions were no longer the "hot topic", thus the racism angle was embellished. Plot aside, which isn't difficult, the basis of the story is that Finian McGlonnagen (Fred Astaire) has stolen a pot of gold from Og the leprechaun (played to perfection by Tommy Steele) and has plans to bury it near Fort Knox, thinking that the "magical properties" in the ground there will make more gold for him. Not exactly Pulitzer stuff here, but an enjoyable movie. A great vehicle for Keenan Wynn, showing why he was the best character actor of his day, and Tommy Steele, who disappeared from American movie screens far too soon. Great music; Good movie.

I remember seeing this film when it was first released. I absolutely hated it - too slow-moving, and the male romantic lead was a cipher. Even the songs were manipulated to the point that I could barely stand to listen to them. Tommy Steele was far too frenetic as Og, the leprechaun. Its saving graces were Fred Astaire, Petula Clark (although she seemed too old in the role of Sharon), and Keenan Wynn. I've avoided it like the plague ever since.

Tonight, thanks to Turner Classic Movies, I finally watched it again. And you know what? It's a lot better than I remembered. I don't know what has caused the turnabout in my opinion, except perhaps the lack of quality of most of the musical films that have come along since FINIAN'S RAINBOW in 1968. It still has a few longueurs, but generally it's very enjoyable. Even Tommy Steele isn't too bad. Don Francks is still dramatically stiff, but he's better than I remembered, and he sings well. And oh, those songs! It's a shame that "Necessity" was cut, but otherwise, what a string of melody - How are Things in Glocca Morra, Old Devil Moon, When I'm not Near the Girl I Love, and more.

Thank you, TCM, for giving me a second chance with this film!

I first saw this movie as a young girl and developed an instant crush on Tommy Steele. The storyline is very entertaining with a keen sense of humor. It was also great seeing Fred Astaire again - I'm a big fan. This movie has some of the most memorable songs which are still among my favorites, of course many of them featuring Petula Clarke. If you are a fan of musicals and enjoy a bit of the blarney - then this movie will be right up your ally.

The 60s were a strange time for cinema – a flourishing of surreal, psychedelic, political and often pretentious film-making. And yet the figures and ideals of the previous generation – Hollywood's golden age – were still around, and neither had they been totally forgotten by the younger generation. Finian's Rainbow was quite literally a remnant from that bygone era, having been an acclaimed stage musical in the 1940s. Had it not been for its controversial subject matter it would probably have been produced for screen in the 50s. As it was, the eventual film adaptation found itself an old-time song-and-dance show in an era where the musical had become something very different indeed.

In a way Finian's Rainbow was always a mix-and-match musical. The E.Y. Harburg-Burton Lane score blends Broadway brass with Irish jigs and occasionally gospel to surprising success. The story also places old-world folklore alongside contemporary racial issues, in what is a sometimes awkward but generally passable modern-day fairytale. Aside from anything else, the Lane melodies are of considerable beauty and the Harburg lyrics witty enough that it makes a broadly appealing and timeless package. Fans of the inventive wordplay in the numbers from Wizard of Oz, which were also penned by Harburg, will appreciate such clever twists as "Make him a better person… not a worse 'un" Harburg even reuses the word "individdle", here rhyming it with fiddle, having rhymed it with riddle in Oz.

Another relic of the old days appears in the form of Fred Astaire as the titular Finian. Astaire may be lacking his cane and topper, he may be showing the signs of his age a little, and his accent may be about as authentically Irish as a gift-shop Shillelagh – but it's still the same old Fred, full of the effortless dance-steps and easygoing charm that won over audiences thirty-five years earlier. It's a real delight to see him here, partly because his endearing demeanour is so reassuringly familiar, and yet he still makes an honest attempt to deviate from his regular persona to create this crusty yet lovable old Irishman. Representing the new is a fresh-faced Tommy Steele, playing the leprechaun Og. A certain proportion of Steele's performance, say 10%, is pure brilliance. Unfortunately the remaining 90% is pure annoyance, as Steele grins and capers his way maddeningly through some disappointingly flat renditions of the Harburg-Lane numbers. Still, he does appear to have struck some kind of unlikely rapport with Astaire, and their scenes together are among the most brightly comical.

The director was from the young side of the fence. Francis Ford Coppola was a graduate of Roger Corman's schlock factory, and this was his first big-budget assignment. Coppola had already demonstrated himself to be a director who took a detached and distant view of things, often keeping his camera high above the action or peeping from amongst foreground foliage. Oddly enough this sets him up well for the light and abstract world of the musical, in which the broad canvas, rich detail and ensemble are more important than the intense close-up or the dramatic long take. Coppola shows real sensitivity to the music, keeping rhythms going with natural-looking background movement – check out the way the crowd shifts behind Petula Clark and Don Francks during "Look to the Rainbow". He also uses his harmonious technique to draw attention to the lyrics, for example having the camera pan up to the heavens on the line "Skies could be so bluish blue" in "Something Sort of Grandish".

The conventions of the time and the sensibilities of the young production team have certainly left their mark on Finian's Rainbow. There are many thinly-veiled references to hippy and protest culture, with the "tobacco"-growing enterprise, a business-like police force and even a sit-down, in a reasonable attempt to make this a musical equivalent of In the Heat of the Night. However the difference between the old and the new is too stark for them to fuse. Coppola's penchant for realism results in some stunning outdoor photography, but this only grates all the more with the woefully fake-looking studio "forest", the like of which would now only be seen in a kid's TV show. Most of the components are glorious, but as a whole it is occasionally like watching two separate films spliced together.

However, Finian's Rainbow is at least self-aware enough to realise that it has the opportunity to be a respectful homage to the classic musical, and never descends into a roughshod "update". The most profound and emotionally stirring aspect of the picture is that Astaire evidently knew it would be his last appearance as a dancer. Coppola surely knew it too, and the tender staging of Astaire's final scene is among the most poignant moments of self-reference in movie history.