So you've got two of the most famous, most classic film stars of ANY generation in one film--that would, of course, be Fred Astaire and Audrey Hepburn. You've also got the whole Gershwin songbook to pick from for your soundtrack. You even have the studio agreeing to ferry the whole company to Paris for location filming. Sounds promising?
Yeah, it did to me too. Quite frankly, it's the script and basic plotline that let the rest of the enterprise down. Hepburn plays Jo Stockton, an intellectual (and we know this because of her less-than-gleaming pageboy cut and the drab shapeless grey potato sack she wears... and still looks fabulous in) who works in a bookstore. She tries very hard to get her shelves back in shape after Dick Avery (Astaire) and his entourage from Quality magazine (including a manic Kay Thompson as lady-in-charge Maggie Prescott) descend upon the store for a photoshoot... only for Dick to leave her floundering and singing "How Long Has This Been Going On?" when he surprises her with a kiss. Still, she clings to her empathicalism ideals and agrees to go to Paris for a Quality fashion shoot so that she can meet the father of empathicalism (her philosophy of choice, of course), Professor Emile Flostre (Michel Auclair). Dick's charming of Jo continues through the fashion shoot, and to the tune of "He Loves And She Loves", he finally realises he loves her back. But as in all romantic comedies, the course of true love never did run smooth, and Jo gets upset when Dick tries to warn her off Professor Flostre ("He's about as interested in your intellect as I am"). The inevitable misunderstanding happens between two lovers when Jo refuses to turn up for the final unveiling, and Dick is set to take a plane back to New York alone.
It's all pretty run-of-the-mill, sentimental pablum, with an attempt to pass poor writing off as profound themes. I never knew Hepburn was a dancer, and she acquits herself rather well in her solo prance through the (literally) underground French cafe. But really--the only word for moments like this is 'surreal'. The impetus for the dance doesn't ring true; the dance itself is technically accomplished but bewilderingly weird... and well, Hepburn may entrance her audience when she's acting, but she's not a magnetic dancer (not the way, say, Cyd Charisse is). That apart, Thompson and Astaire also suffer in their seriously eccentric duet to "Clap Yo' Hands". Partly because Thompson's presence in the film is, to me, utterly mysterious. Of course she's *meant* to be the typical musical sidekick (see O'Connor, Donald, SINGIN' IN THE RAIN), but she falls far short of the mark. A successful sidekick would light the screen up during his or her solo--her "Think Pink" was, frankly, frightening, and she just wasn't very good in the rest of her numbers. (Even her duet with Hepburn, "How To Be Lovely", was running on empty when it started.) As for Astaire--what a shame. His talent was put to waste in this film, even though he still looks pretty spry and his sense of rhythm is as impeccable as ever. But in "Clap Yo' Hands", his dancing passes only for mugging (and sadly, not even intentionally so). Another one for the 'surreal' label--it's evidently TRYING to be witty and avant-garde. And failing miserably. Astaire's own solo number is perfectly executed as usual, and he pulls off his coat-swirling with great style, but one still feels as if some spark in him is still missing. Of all the good material the film had to work with, it's really a shame that it never used any of its three principals well.
That's not to say the film was beyond all hope: It's hard to come out of such a poorly-scripted and thought-out film on your feet, but it's also hard for Astaire and Hepburn to be truly horrifyingly bad... so they're just bland. They do go some way in lending their trademark class to the film, for example in the extremely poorly-lit darkroom courtship dance. It *seems* very good, from what little I can make out through all the murky black and red... it's a scene just crying out for digital re-enhancement so that we can actually see what's going on. But it's still quite nicely-executed. There's also a flash of the magic that this film could have had the two times Jo and Dick walk together behind the little Parisian church, with her in all her wedding finery. When he realises that she's fallen for him, for real, he sweetly serenades her with the song "He Loves And She Loves", and the raft across the river is a very sweet, pretty touch.
Given the pedigree of this film, I really had been expecting a lot more than I actually got. It's not horrible, but nor is it fantastic. Probably one to watch if you're a fan of Astaire's or Hepburn's, but I doubt I'll be pulling this one out for a re-viewing any time soon. 6.5/10
Yeah, it did to me too. Quite frankly, it's the script and basic plotline that let the rest of the enterprise down. Hepburn plays Jo Stockton, an intellectual (and we know this because of her less-than-gleaming pageboy cut and the drab shapeless grey potato sack she wears... and still looks fabulous in) who works in a bookstore. She tries very hard to get her shelves back in shape after Dick Avery (Astaire) and his entourage from Quality magazine (including a manic Kay Thompson as lady-in-charge Maggie Prescott) descend upon the store for a photoshoot... only for Dick to leave her floundering and singing "How Long Has This Been Going On?" when he surprises her with a kiss. Still, she clings to her empathicalism ideals and agrees to go to Paris for a Quality fashion shoot so that she can meet the father of empathicalism (her philosophy of choice, of course), Professor Emile Flostre (Michel Auclair). Dick's charming of Jo continues through the fashion shoot, and to the tune of "He Loves And She Loves", he finally realises he loves her back. But as in all romantic comedies, the course of true love never did run smooth, and Jo gets upset when Dick tries to warn her off Professor Flostre ("He's about as interested in your intellect as I am"). The inevitable misunderstanding happens between two lovers when Jo refuses to turn up for the final unveiling, and Dick is set to take a plane back to New York alone.
It's all pretty run-of-the-mill, sentimental pablum, with an attempt to pass poor writing off as profound themes. I never knew Hepburn was a dancer, and she acquits herself rather well in her solo prance through the (literally) underground French cafe. But really--the only word for moments like this is 'surreal'. The impetus for the dance doesn't ring true; the dance itself is technically accomplished but bewilderingly weird... and well, Hepburn may entrance her audience when she's acting, but she's not a magnetic dancer (not the way, say, Cyd Charisse is). That apart, Thompson and Astaire also suffer in their seriously eccentric duet to "Clap Yo' Hands". Partly because Thompson's presence in the film is, to me, utterly mysterious. Of course she's *meant* to be the typical musical sidekick (see O'Connor, Donald, SINGIN' IN THE RAIN), but she falls far short of the mark. A successful sidekick would light the screen up during his or her solo--her "Think Pink" was, frankly, frightening, and she just wasn't very good in the rest of her numbers. (Even her duet with Hepburn, "How To Be Lovely", was running on empty when it started.) As for Astaire--what a shame. His talent was put to waste in this film, even though he still looks pretty spry and his sense of rhythm is as impeccable as ever. But in "Clap Yo' Hands", his dancing passes only for mugging (and sadly, not even intentionally so). Another one for the 'surreal' label--it's evidently TRYING to be witty and avant-garde. And failing miserably. Astaire's own solo number is perfectly executed as usual, and he pulls off his coat-swirling with great style, but one still feels as if some spark in him is still missing. Of all the good material the film had to work with, it's really a shame that it never used any of its three principals well.
That's not to say the film was beyond all hope: It's hard to come out of such a poorly-scripted and thought-out film on your feet, but it's also hard for Astaire and Hepburn to be truly horrifyingly bad... so they're just bland. They do go some way in lending their trademark class to the film, for example in the extremely poorly-lit darkroom courtship dance. It *seems* very good, from what little I can make out through all the murky black and red... it's a scene just crying out for digital re-enhancement so that we can actually see what's going on. But it's still quite nicely-executed. There's also a flash of the magic that this film could have had the two times Jo and Dick walk together behind the little Parisian church, with her in all her wedding finery. When he realises that she's fallen for him, for real, he sweetly serenades her with the song "He Loves And She Loves", and the raft across the river is a very sweet, pretty touch.
Given the pedigree of this film, I really had been expecting a lot more than I actually got. It's not horrible, but nor is it fantastic. Probably one to watch if you're a fan of Astaire's or Hepburn's, but I doubt I'll be pulling this one out for a re-viewing any time soon. 6.5/10