Director: Charles Walters
Texas Carnival comes near the end of Esther Williams’ short-lived film career (she would make only five more films after this one) and serves as a reunion between her and her first leading man in Red Skelton. As is typical of both of their work at MGM, the film is a breezy, crowd-pleasing entertainment—that it doesn’t have the budget of some of Williams’ bigger pictures diminishes some of the spectacle, however the presence of Ann Miller and a massive xylophone is arguably on par as a distraction. Williams and Skelton play a carnival duo who become mistaken for a rich cattle baron and his sister. It’s a skeleton of a plot and barely registers, moreso playing as a loosely-stitched together series of set pieces, inoffensive but far from either of the stars’ best work. The knockout sequence comes when Williams appears in Howard Keel’s “wet dream”—a phosphorescent Williams comes floating into his bedroom and swims around the furniture, seducing him in a ghostly sort of water dance. That the scene looks like something from Blithe Spirit adds a terrific sense of mystery to the sensuality, and moreover positions it as one of the great surreal moments in a Williams vehicle. The climax involves a chuckwagon race that must have done Buster Keaton proud—Skelton’s wagon completely falls apart as he races across the desert, ultimately leaving him on a flimsy frame and wheels. Nothing registers except for the three key setpieces (Miller’s number, Williams’ dance, and the climax), but the film is a relatively inoffensive way to kill an hour.
Director: Charles Walters
Summer Stock was the first film that Judy Garland made after returning from a suspension that was the result of her firing from Annie Get Your Gun and a lengthy stay in hospital to treat her drug dependency. As is common of her films in this period, one can scarcely get the sense that there’s anything wrong—equally due to the fact that Garland, even at her healthiest, was an enormously vulnerable performer, and that MGM was a studio that let nary a crack in the wallpaper show. It is among her finest musicals during this stretch, serving as a love letter to theater and musicals themselves. The best scene of the picture involves Gene Kelly using a creak in a floorboard and a discarded newspaper for a dance. Beyond Kelly’s physical achievement, it is crucial that the scene is preceded by Garland’s character chastising him for his domineering attitude as a stage director. He is put in his place and, rather than fighting the accusations, simply takes a moment to remember exactly what it is that he appreciates about his craft. To watch the scene is to watch Kelly’s love of dance reborn—when his art form is brought back to basics, his withdrawn demeanor has no choice but to give way to sheer ecstasy. Only in the final act does Summer Stock fall short—in truth, the final show that the group puts on simply isn’t all that good—but even then about half of the numbers land (including the famed “Get Happy” and the delightful but questionably staged “You Wonderful You”).
Director: Charles Walters
Fred Astaire was coaxed out of retirement to replace the injured Gene Kelly in Easter Parade, the well-remembered MGM musical known as being the single collaboration between Astaire and Judy Garland. Unfortunately, the two have very little chemistry on screen—if some of their interactions are amusing (Astaire giving Garland dance lessons produces some laughs, including a riff on Ginger Rogers’ feather dress from Top Hat), they play as two individual stars battling for attention rather than as a cohesive unit. Regardless, Easter Parade earns some good will in its most satisfying moments, including Astaire’s drum solo number early on and Ann Miller’s show-stopping “Shakin’ the Blues Away” (which coasts on Miller’s talent while director Charles Walters inappropriately treats the number as a throwaway rehearsal). Irving Berlin’s score is solid, but the musical numbers have very little to do with the narrative at the core of the picture—consider as an alternative how the music played an emotional role in the Astaire and Rogers musicals. The picture is best summed up by a late gimmick in which Astaire dances in slow motion as the cast in the background moves at normal speed. Visually interesting as it may be, it simply doesn’t “get” what makes Astaire so impressive. He doesn’t need green screen gimmicks, he just needs to dance. Similarly, here’s a film that should have everything going for it, only there is no guiding hand to bring all of the disparate elements together.
Director: Charles Walters
Dangerous When Wet is one of Esther Williams’ most fondly remembered vehicles, if only for the dream sequence in which she swims alongside two fellow MGM stars – Tom and Jerry. Fernando Lamas, Williams’ third husband, is serviceable as a love interest, but the great character actor Jack Carson is most memorable as a sleazy promoter. Despite the light-hearted, sanitized nature of the film, his early repartee with Williams is filled with rather blatant double-entendre. Having Williams participate in a marathon during a heavy fog seems to be a misguided choice for this type of film – the color palette is often muted, with hues of gray occupying much of the frame. Consider, on the other hand, the splendid Busby Berkeley number of Million Dollar Mermaid, which was a visual dazzler and the high point of her career. The Tom and Jerry sequence, however, is worth a look, if only to appreciate the craftsmanship of integrating live action with animation.
For Reel 