Whitney White
I. Introduction
II. Acknowledgement and Disavowal
III. The Big Dance Numbers
IV. Musicals of the Postwar
Introduction
WWII completely changed societies around the globe. After the war, America was immersed in postwar optimism and at the same time was experiencing many cultural changes and challenges in the aftermath of a total war. Art, including film, was faced with whether to depict the optimism of the postwar or the issues. Optimism relied on forgetting the war and moving on, making it near impossible to then depict the social issues at the same time.
During this era Hollywood musicals began to flourish. They too were faced with the challenge of how to depict the postwar. A huge star of this genre was Gene Kelly. Two of his most highly acclaimed roles include Singin’ in the Rain (1952) directed by Kelly himself and Stanley Donen, and An American in Paris (1951) directed by Vincente Minnelli. Singin’ in the Rain takes up the viewpoint of postwar optimism, never speaking about or addressing the war. An American in Paris weaves WWII into the core of the narrative, and deals with many of the social issues of the postwar. This creates two radically different films. Singin’ in the Rain is an over-the-top spectacle, with a plot set in the back lots of Hollywood. It becomes so far removed from the reality of the average American that it seems like a fantasy. An American in Paris is much more subdued in comparison, rarely employing both singing and dancing in the same sequence, and has a narrative that seems believable and realistic. The two films are considered some of the best of the Hollywood musical era because of these very differences. Singin’ in the Rain is a postwar film, set in the interwar period that is filled with violence, but any opportunity for relevant reflection is enshrouded with cinematic reflection, humor, and Technicolor dance sequences. These same techniques immerse the audience completely into the film. An American in Paris in its attempt to address issues of the postwar creates a film that reflects the realities of the audience and is therefore just as captivating as Singin’ in the Rain. These two techniques of acknowledgement or disavowal were equally important in shaping postwar films.
Singin’ in the Rain and An American in Paris provide a way to analyze the methods and effects of choosing either technique because they were released only a year apart, both star and were choreographed by Gene Kelly, and belong to the same genre of big Hollywood musicals. They are functioning within the same moment in history, and represent two sides of the postwar. These representations become essential in shaping every aspect of these two films.
Acknowledgement and Disavowal
Singin’ in the Rain instead of acknowledging the war, focuses heavily on showing the audience how films are made. This type of self-reflexivity appears again and again in the film, letting the audience focus on the secrets of Hollywood instead of the recently passed wars. It can be described as recursivity, in which the film is showing how films are made and at the same time showing how the film in itself was made. This recursivity is established in the first scene. It opens with a long shot of a crowd at a movie premiere. The crowd mirrors the very audience that the viewer is as film spectators. For a moment two boys are seen sitting on sound equipment from “Monument Studios” furthering this idea that you are an audience watching a filmed audience . Soon the crowd is zoomed in on. The group is a writhing mass, screaming and pushing against each other . As each star graces the red carpet the excitement builds and the crowd becomes more violent (except for their comical reaction to Cosmo with disappointment). Finally Don Lockwood and Lena Lamont arrive, the stars of the fictional movie and also “Singin’ in the Rain”. They arrive with a motorcade and as the crowd becomes crazed at their appearance. Cops hold back the masses that push against them trying to get the stars. It is a scene of barely controlled violence. This violence is obscured to the viewer by the novelty of watching a film premiere as an audience at the beginning of a film. It very much mirrors the experience of sitting in an audience and waiting anxiously to see a film starring a famous celebrity. This so relatable that the audience ignores the subtle insult that as viewers they are a violent consummative mass. A womanly shriek from a man may cause laughter in the viewer as they ignore the lack of control it really shows in the crowd. This scene of hysterical masses of fans could be read in the context of a post-war society as a loss of control and excessive frivolity as a response to the traumas of war. The demeanor and morals of the Victorian era are completely lost, instead people now push and scream to see a film star. Instead in the context of the film it is lost in a humorous reflection on audiences.
An American in Paris is so far removed from this type of recursive reflection on film and audience that in Henri’s big performance, when the viewer finds themselves in the vantage of a crowd member, they do not even register that this could be a reflection on their relation to the film. This is because the film is striving to immerse the viewer in the stage performance. At this point in the film the viewer has only heard that Henri is a great and famous performer, now they can finally see it. It seems natural to be in the audience waiting for his first big performance in the film. Because of this build-up it never registers that the viewer already belongs to another audience watching An American in Paris.
The crowd also differs from that in Singin’ in the Rain; though excited by Henri initially appearing on stage, they quickly return to the proper decorum. This is the complete opposite to the crowd waiting for Lockwood and Lamont’s movie premiere, held back only by the force of the police. The only moment that can even come close to rivaling the crazed crowd of fans is the crowd at the drunken art party. Yet there is still none of the underlying violence present as at the movie premiere. A girl jumps repeatedly from a balcony into a man’s arms but it is pure spectacle. There is tension in this moment, but it reflects the tension that has been building in the plot. The audience knows both couples are going to cross paths, that soon all will be revealed to Henri and Milo about Jerry and Lise. The party gives a backdrop of tension and chaos for the moment the entire film has been leading to. Compare this to Singin’ in the Rain opening with the crowd of crazed fans: there is no build-up, the film is opening with this crowd. It establishes that the film is about controlling the barely controllable, hiding the barely hidden violence.
Humor is another way Kelly and Donan hide the violence underlying Singin’ in the Rain. Returning to the movie premiere, as Lockwood walks the red carpet he relates to an interviewer his history as an actor. The violence underlying this scene is lost in humor. Lockwood works his way up the ranks of Hollywood, much like a soldier. He begins in a Vaudeville act, progresses to do music on set, then become a stunt man before finally becoming the celebrity he is. As he narrates this tale, picture and words are always contrasting. For example, he describes his role as a stunt man as “urban, sophisticated, and suave” as he drives off cliffs and is blown up in sheds. When he finally gets the offer to star in his own film he is covered in soot from an explosion and his clothes are tattered. At this moment he looks most like a soldier.
This moment is important because Lockwood’s early film career would of been taking place during WWI or right after. To show him dressed as what appears to be a soldier yet to say no more is an open aversion of war. This can easily be lost in the humorous interaction between him and costar Lamont. There is also the overarching humor of the scene based on the disparity between Lockwood’s narration and what actually happened. Finally, the recursivity of this entire scene stands paramount as the viewer watches how actors become actors and films are made. Amidst all of this, it is easy to ignore how much Lockwood’s career mirrors that of a soldier.
One of the most memorable, and famous, sequences in the whole film is “Make ‘Em Laugh”. Cosmo in an effort to cheer up Don, does a dance sequence about comedy. The number opens with Cosmo musing, “Don the world is so full of a number things, I’m sure we should all be as happy as-But are we? No, definitely no, positively no. Decidedly no. Uh-nun” . He concludes that the solution is to, “Make ’em laugh, don’t you know everyone wants to laugh?”. This moment, and the entirety of the song, reflect on the humor in the film. Singin’ in the Rain is not trying to be Shakespeare, it is trying to make you laugh so you forget your problems. You are not happy, and the actor’s job is to make you forget this in laughter. This even means forgetting the years of war and hardship that have just passed. To accomplish this, Donen and Kelly engross the audience so much in the humor and spectacle of the number that there is no space for anything but amazement.
Paradoxically the best way to make the audience forget about war and lose itself in humor is through violence. The controlled violence of this number is captivating. As the song opens Cosmo slams violently on the piano, and jumps on top of it . From there, he runs into walls and gets hits by boards the stage crew is moving. This all culminates in a series of over a dozen pratfalls, followed by Cosmo running up two walls and doing a flip, then finally running through a wall and collapsing in exhaustion. He is superhuman in the amount of physical violence he endures, all in the name of comedy. It is so far removed from the uncontrolled violence of war, that it is hard to recognize them as the same thing. Soldiers are not superhuman, they die easily. Cosmo is separated from that type of violence. The audience is also being given permission to laugh at this type of violence. The viewer is told this is supposed to make you laugh, it is not the same thing you experienced before, it is not destructive violence. From the surface this seems paradoxical, but more accurately it is a reclamation of violence separating it from the traumas of the recent wars.
But what is comedic about a man falling? Is it that he seems to not be getting hurt? As a super human comedian he is beyond the power of violence. But then at one point he mimics breaking his jaw and the end he still collapses. The weirdest element of the whole sequence is the hysteria that Cosmo works himself into. As he executes the series of pratfalls he begins to laugh hysterically. It feels forced, like a man being pushed past his limits. As the viewer watches this superhuman comedian, reality starts to creep in through these laughs. Donald O’Connor, the actor playing Cosmo, is at the breaking point. When he collapses his chest heaves. Despite this there is still something comedic about this sequence and highly memorable. The viewer laughs and is amazed by O’Connor’s performance, and they are reminded of the value of comedy. This type of violence is fine to laugh at, it doesn’t kill people. But it still is violence, O’Connor still is exhausted from it and, if set rumors are true, had to be hospitalized after his performance. This is an attempt to separate humorous violence from “real” violence, but violence is violence. This is a moment in the film when the narrative of disavowal and forgetting war comes at odds with reality.
“Make ‘Em Laugh” also maintains the motif of reflection on film and acting throughout the film. Indeed, the scene is so self-referential that it is hard not to get lost in that element alone. Cosmo performs this whole sequence on a soundstage that is being worked on. He dodges workers carrying couches and boards. He runs into a wall because when he opens a door it is only a façade. He runs through a wall because it is not solid; it’s fake. Cosmo is interacting with a set to make us laugh, just as O’Connor is. Similarly, as Cosmo sings, “Just slip on a banana peel, The world’s at your feet” he is speaking to the value of violence in comedy, his own pratfalls and the humor they evoke, and also to O’Connor’s own comic career . The number of levels at play, as throughout the film, is engrossing and dazzling.
In “An American in Paris” simplicity rules the film; seldom in a musical number is an actor both dancing and singing, there is a focus on either one or the other. Looking “’S Wonderful”, both Henri and Jerry sing then Jerry dances as Henri whistle. Simplicity is maintained giving it a feeling of authenticity. Humor is also achieved through simplicity. The adorable “I Got Rhymth” relies on the French children mispronouncing words and just being cute to create humor. There are no super human feats as Jerry teaches them the Charleston. There is no comedic violence, as he does the Airplane. There is not even a fancy set, just a flower stall. The joy and humor of this scene is based completely on his interaction with the children. Without all of the layering that Singin’ in the Rain depends on, the audience is able to reflect on the Americanization as the result of WWII. American soldiers brought with them American bubble gum and dance moves, and French children like Jerry’s, eat it all up.
Another moment of reflection comes in the number “By Strauss”. The number opens with Henri saying he hates jazz and loves the German composers like Strauss. Humor is used to diffuse the tension created by a Frenchman preferring German music. Jerry and Adam mock Henri saying things like, “Ahh, Wienerschnitzel!” and talking to each other as if they were Germans, “Mein Herr! Mein Herr! Bitte, bitte! Denke, danke! Aufwiedersehen! Aufwiedersehen!”. It is comic, because it is silly. The paradox of a French man liking Germen music is negated by the humor. It shows
people using humor to deal with the uncomfortable realities of the postwar. Richard Strauss, a famous German composer, is now forever tied to horrors of Nazi Germany. It is unfortunate but does not detract from his genius and Henri still sings, “When I want a melody, Lilting through the house, Then I want a melody, By Strauss” . Minnelli allows us to move on by acknowledging this tension through the humorous reactions of all three men. There is no need to distract the audience, to make them ignore or forget it.
The Big Dance Numbers
The clearest point of comparison between the two films is the larger musical numbers, “Broadway Melody” from Singin’ in the Rain, and “An American in Paris Ballet”. These two episodic cutaways rely heavily on Technicolor and dance, and do little to move along the films’ plots. At the same time they are completely different in their production and function within the film, reflecting the larger differences between the films and their portrayal of a postwar fantasy world without war verses a reality that incorporates war.
“Broadway Melody” is framed as a pitch for a new musical. Lockwood opens the song singing, “Your troubles there are always out of style cause Broadway always wears a smile” . Once again the idea of forgetting your troubles in a film (or musical) is seen. Lockwood then plays a man come to Broadway to make it big. He is pushed through a chaotic crowd of brightly costumed people as he sings “Gotta dance!”. Like the crowd at the premiere there is an underlying violent energy that pulsates through the myriad of people. None of them care for the lone dancer. The dancer makes his premiere at a speakeasy and is once again surrounded by a crowd of brightly dressed people.
The colors are vivid and hypersaturated, relying on reds, purples, greens, and oranges. Kelly surrounded by color, does a fantastic dance. It is pure spectacle and as an audience the viewer ignores the implications of this seedy start. Soon the Dancer is seduced by a woman clad in a stunning green dress and, lost in color and dance, the audience is asked to ignore that her boyfriend is a gangster ready to use violence. Instead, the gangster is only supposed to be a humorous foil to the Dancer. Next, the Dancer works his way up the ranks, once again like a soldier, from Vaudeville all the way to Broadway. As a successful star he sees the woman again and pictures himself with her in a romantic fantasy. As the viewer watch the two dance across a soundstage of beautiful pastels, they forget she has a violent thug boyfriend and so does the Dancer. Then reality comes back and she leaves with her boyfriend. A disappointed and lonely Dancer returns to Broadway where the audience first met him and runs into a copy of himself . Like a soldier, he is also easily replaceable and he realizes he must go back to the “Broadway Melody” to be successful. The spinning, chaotic crowd rushes back in and the violence returns. All that holds back the crowd from turning into a mob is choreographed dance and swirling colors. The audience is throughout the whole sequence asked to ignore the violence of the crowds, the struggle of the Dancer, and the illicit aspect of the romance with the woman. Instead there is a focus on color and dance. As in Singin’ in the Rain itself the viewer should focus on humor, dance, and Technicolor. They are supposed to forget that this is interwar/postwar America. Instead they should focus on American success and a “we can do anything” attitude. You can work your way up from the bottom to the top as the film shows three times with Lockwood’s, Kathy Selden’s and the Dancer’s stories of success. American postwar optimism reigns supreme in this film and at its center stands the achievement of film.
“An American in Paris Ballet” opens as a daydream a rejected Jerry is having. Color is also explored in this sequence but through shadowing and lighting. The audience first sees Jerry in what to appears his own sketch. He is transparent and the only color is red rose that throughout the sequence represents Lise. Color quickly comes in blotches on the background as Jerry becomes solid. Brides rush in in white and carry Jerry off to the main stage, the equivalent of the Broadway street in Melody. A motif of three colors is established: brilliant red, subdued shades of blue, and white. The motif reflects the French flag. Standing central in this set is a fountain. The fountain is used throughout the number for exploration of light, shadows, and smoke. It is almost always presented with blue or red lighting. This reflects Minelli’s deeper exploration of art within the sequence. The sequence opens in Jerry’s sketch because, besides being a reflection of a heartbroken Jerry, it is also exploring art after war. The sequence has moments similar to The Red Shoes directed by the Archers in 1948. The Archers explored the role of total art after total war. Minelli’s use of lighting, especially the color red, reflects highly on the episodic cutaway in The Red Shoes, “The Ballet of the Red Shoes”.
Returning to the sequence, Jerry is now running through a hectic crowd, much like that in “Broadway Melody”. Unlike “Melody” the crowd does not carry a feeling of hidden violence, it serves as a reflection of Jerry’s pain and confusion about losing Lise. The scene cuts away to a shadowed tree, surrounded with smoke that light cuts through in rays.
This shot noticeably lingers. This is one several points where Minelli’s artistic exploration can be seen. He is clearly exploring light. This is in contrast with Singin’ in the Rain that almost seems to avoid shadow. Everything is hyper-saturated in color and flooded with light. There is no room for darkness, whether figurative or literal. After a pastel scene filled with flowers, the viewer next sees Jerry on an empty French street. He is joined by four jolly American soldiers and they soon begin to dance gaily. They run into a store and put on dapper outfits. The scene ends with a procession of French soldiers who appear throughout the number. Once again Minelli directly addresses war. He reasserts Jerry’s past through the scene, and also reminds the audience that this is the postwar. The French soldiers march through scene after scene in the sequence, almost tying it together. War is what ties this film together.
The sequence continues on exploring light and color, especially two scenes later when Jerry and Lise perform on the fountain. In choreography it is very reminiscent of “Broadway Melody’s” fantasy scene about the gangster’s girlfriend. Color and lighting is where the intent can clearly be seen as different. (See images on next page.) Minelli continues the motif of red, white, and blue in this scene. Dancing on the central fountain, enshrouded in the colors of France, and surrounded by statues that seem to be soldiers, this moment is tied very much in the plot of the film. At the same time it exists as an exploration of art. Dance, music, and color dominate the scene above all else. Jerry and Lise are surrounded by the postwar, and that allows for an exploration of art in the postwar. Is it right to show art in the aftermath of war? The war is always hovering in the background, so is beauty something we can even value?
Compare this to “Broadway Melody”. The dancer and his love interest poetically dance across a Technicolor-pastel landscape. There are few shadows and everything is clearly illuminated. It serves as pure spectacle. It is no way grounded in reality. Her dress billows up in a way that is entrancing and unrealistic outside of the soundstage. The audience is asked to accept the fantasy of the dancer, as they have been asked to accept the fantasy that is film.
Figure 1 An American in Paris
Figure 2 Singin’ in the Rain
“An American in Paris Ballet” ends with a return to the forlorn Jerry standing in the shadows of the balcony at the Art Party. It is interesting to consider that the deepest reflection on art in the film comes at an Art Party, where a sense of the modern dominates. Everyone is costumed in geometric black and white costumes. Modern art was in large part a response to WWI and WWII, to the death of beauty in the world. Minnelli’s frames his own exploration of the aesthetic perfectly with this setting.
Musicals of the Postwar
With every film made in the postwar there had to be choice: talk about the war or don’t. Kelly and Donen chose not to acknowledge war, and Minelli decided to make it an essential part of the plot. Each movie easily could have existed with the opposite decision made. Singin’ in the Rain could have addressed Lockwood as a soldier in WWI, or him working in propaganda films. It could have grounded the plot in reality with that simple move. Instead it chose to embrace the fantasy that Hollywood is sheltered from reality. An American in Paris could have just been about an American artist who moves to France. Lise parents could have died for any reason, they did not have to be part of the French Resistance. Instead the film becomes an exploration of postwar cultural issues. What makes both these musicals is great is because they made the choice they did.
Singin’ in the Rain resonates with audiences today because everyone wants to forget. Everyone wants to swept away for two hours into a world of pure enjoyment, and Singin’ in the Rain excels at this. Its Technicolor, recursivity, and humor would have provided a much-needed break from the realities of the postwar for the audience. 1920s Hollywood was the perfect backdrop for a fantasy world that was experiencing its own changes. As viewer we know the world survives the change to “talkies” and this is comforting.
An American in Paris explored cultural issues that the audience was experiencing in their own lives. The changing role of women is looked at through Millo. She is an independent woman which makes Jerry uncomfortable throughout the film. Lise, is the opposite of Millo, she feels tied to Henri because he took her in during the French resistance when her parents died. Her relationship with Henri makes the viewer consider when a debt from the war is fulfilled, or if it ever can be. Jerry explores the place of soldiers in the postwar. Jerry, Henri, and especially Adam examine the role of art in the postwar. They represent painting, singing and dancing, and music respectively. Minelli looks at the issues of an artist representing art after war through them. To see a musical explore such real issues, makes the film in itself feel real despite the musical numbers.
Singin’ in the Rain, on the other hand, is continually trying to make the audience forget war. They are supposed to get lost in the film and forget their problems. This creates a feeling of force. The film is designed to force the viewer to be absorbed in this world of film and the musical. It is forcing the viewer to accept a world of fantasy, unlike the one the audience at the time actually lived in where the postwar was still very real and issues abounded. The world of Singin’ in the Rain feels fake because of it. It is a world of fantasy in which war doesn’t exist.
What each film accomplishes is important though. As a modern audience these two films allow us to see the two opposite reactions to the postwar: accept and explore, or ignore. Each film beautifully captures the complexity of either reaction. Simply accepting the war is not enough. It becomes necessary to then address the issues that are created by war. You can not just have Henri liking Strauss if war is an open part of the film. Conversely, not including war in a film means you must make the audience not notice the absence. This means layering the film to an extent that there is no opportunity for thought outside the film. Lockwood’s past does not include any reference to the war so there has to be humor and recursivity to make the audience overlook this. Most films in the postwar dealt with this issue but what makes both Singin’ in the Rain and An American in Paris unique, memorable, and highly acclaimed is that they are musicals that masterfully deal with these issues of representation.
On War and its Representations 