An American in Paris. 1951. Directed by Vincent Minelli.

(July or August 2000)

George Gershwin was rather unique in that he straddled the worlds of popular and classical music. This presented a problem when making a film based on his music because it seems difficult to integrate his concert music into the film. And that is what seems like the big flaw in An American in Paris. The famous Gershwin songs are irresistable and perfectly worked into the story, but the more serious music just seems out of place. Thus, when Oscar Levant has a fantasy about playing the piano with an orchestra which he is also conducting and for which he is playing multiple violins, it just seems silly.

The big ballet number "An American in Paris" takes us out of the film. As interesting as it is as a self-contained unit it doesn't add anything to the story we have become involved with. It doesn't advance the plot and it doesn't take us into the mind of Jerry Mulligan. It seems kind of ridiculous, in fact, because Jerry is at his lowest ebb right about then. He believes he has lost the girl he loves--so why would his daydream show him dancing so energetically and happily? It doesn't fit the mood of the film at that point. It was just dropped in.

Taken on its own terms the "American in Paris" ballet is very enjoyable. Gene Kelly dances against sets based on popular French painters--Raoul Dufy, Maurice Utrillo, Henri Rousseau, Toulouse-Lautrec. These are artists whose styles have trickled down into the popular imagination.

The songs are used to much more telling effect. In particular, "Our Love Is Here to Stay" makes a wonderful romantic theme which recurs several times after it is sung. It is probably my favorite Gershwin song and perfectly captures the spirit of the story.

One of the best moments in the film is when Gene Kelly and the other guy sing "'S Wonderful." Unbeknownst to each other they are both singing about the same girl. Sandwiched between them is Oscar Levant who does know.

"I Got Rhythm" is also a delight, but "Embraceable You" doesn't come off as well. It is used only as an instrumental for Leslie Caron to dance to as her fiance describes her personality to Gene Kelly. What a waste it is of one of Gershwin's most haunting songs--but it obviously wasn't possible to include everything.

It is interesting to note that this film was released in 1951 when Gerswhin died in 1937. (I think it was '37.) So the film had a nostalgic quality when it was first shown. It is a lovely fairytale of Paris and the Parisian art world--or maybe of the myth of the artist as it exists in the popular imagination.

Gene Kelly is delightful as Jerry Mulligan. He seems so vital, so open-hearted, so good-natured. He is just so positive that his pursuit of Leslie Caron seems acceptable and proper. This is no small feat because his persistance could be viewed--by today's standards--as stalking. But he can pull it off. And boy, is he ever confident about it! I love it when Leslie Caron remarks that it's a pity he doesn't have as much charm as persistance and he comes right back with: "But I do--you've only seen the aggressive side." He acts very aggressive, but he has the personality to back it up with.

Leslie Caron has all the innocence and sensitivity that her part requires. And Oscar Levant gives the whole thing just enough of an edge to keep it from seeming too sweet or schmaltzy. And there is a reasonably interesting sub-plot about a wealthy American woman who wants to help Jerry Mulligan's career, but who has designs on him as well. To take a line from one of those classic Gershwin songs: "Who could ask for anything more?"

Lust for Life. 1956. Directed by Vincent Minelli.

(7/15/00)

It is impossible to form any real opinion about this film as it was shown in a print which was completely red. (There were actually a few spots of yellow, but not enough to warrant mention.) It was also difficult to hear and I couldn't get into it.

I suspect that a lush MGM production doesn't seem right for a film about Vincent van Gogh. That might be snobbish or elitist or something of that nature, but I do think that there is something jarring about this misfit, scorned throughout his life, being given the big Hollywood treatment.

I thought Kirk Douglas was mannered in his performance, but that might be because I found watching the film with no color to be irritating.

It was certainly a pleasure to see van Gogh painting his famous canvases. I particularly liked seeing "The Night Cafe" brought to life. And also the postman, Joseph Roulin, whose portrait is one of MoMA's treasures.

I was moved by the first part of the film where van Gogh goes to minister to the miners. He has nothing to say to them, but is willing to live with them and learn how to help them. This is true Christian love, but then his superiors come and claim that he is embarrassing their society by his behavior. Pure hypocrisy.

Anthony Quinn's portrayal of Gauguin was the best thing in the film for me. The scene when he arrives to live with van Gogh is wonderfully played. Van Gogh is dying for the presence of a "kindred spirit." Gauguin is his great hope, but turns out to be a great disappointment.

After the episode with Gauguin the film seems to go downhill. I have a feeling that the filmmakers rushed through the rest of van Gogh's story. The episode with Dr. Gachet was unsatisfying. I don't think that van Gogh's insanity or his seizures were satisfactorily explained.

I am not familiar with van Gogh's biography and I was left wondering what might have happened if he hadn't shot himself and had been able to stick it out for another ten years. I think he would have found more appreciation and more sales as those ten years passed. Would that appreciation have made his life more livable? I don't know.

I really believe that this film would have been a totally different experience if I had been able to see it in full color and with better sound.