Singin' in the Rain (1952)

Directors:

Stanley Donen
Gene Kelly

Writers:

Adolph Green (story) and
Betty Comden (story)

Release Date:

11 April 1952 (USA)

Genre:

Comedy | Musical | Romance

Tagline:

Singin' Swingin' Glorious Feelin' Technicolor Musical

Plot:

A silent film production company and cast make a difficult transition to sound.

Plot Keywords:

Biplane | Hollywood Romance | Flapper | Hidden Love | Out Of Sync

Awards:

Nominated for 2 Oscars. Another 3 wins & 7 nominations

Cast

Gene Kelly	...	Don Lockwood
Donald O'Connor	...	Cosmo Brown
Debbie Reynolds	...	Kathy Selden
Jean Hagen	...	Lina Lamont
Millard Mitchell	...	R.F. Simpson
Cyd Charisse	...	Dancer
Douglas Fowley	...	Roscoe Dexter
Rita Moreno	...	Zelda Zanders

Runtime:

103 min

Country:

USA

Language:

English

Colour:

Colour (Technicolor) | Black and White

Aspect Ratio:

1.37 : 1

Sound Mix:

Mono (Western Electric Sound System)

Certification:

USA:Approved (PCA #15511) (original rating) | Germany:12 | USA:TV-G (TV rating) | USA:Passed (National Board of Review) | Canada:PG (Ontario) | Iceland:L | South Korea:All | Canada:G (Manitoba/Nova Scotia/Quebec) | Argentina:Atp | Australia:G | Finland:S | Netherlands:AL | Portugal:M/6 | Spain:T | Sweden:Btl | UK:U | USA:G (1975) | West Germany:12

Filming Locations:

Grauman's Chinese Theater - 6925 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood, Los Angeles, California, USA

Company:

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM)

Trivia:

Costume designer Walter Plunkett had worked in films since 1929, and some of his recollections were the source for gags about the perils of early sound shooting. Jean Hagen loudly "tapping" Gene Kelly with her fan in "The Dueling Cavalier" is based on a similar incident with Bebe Daniels and John Boles in Rio Rita (1929).

Goofs:

Revealing mistakes: The double-bass has only two strings on it in the “All I Do Is Dream of you” scene. Just like the violins in the “Fit as a Fiddle” scene.

Quotes:

[first lines]
Dora Bailey: [broadcasting on radio] This is Dora Bailey, ladies and gentlemen, talking to you from the front of the Chinese Theater in Hollywood. What a night, ladies and gentlemen, what a night! Every star in Hollywood's heaven is here to make Monumental Pictures' premiere of "The Royal Rascal" the outstanding event of 1927! Everyone is breathlessly awaiting the arrival of Lina Lamont and Don Lockwood!

Movie Connections:

Referenced in "A Fine Romance: The Restaurant (#1.3)" (1981)

Soundtrack:

Fit as a Fiddle

The Divine Miss Charisse

I'm going to confine my comments about "Singin' in the Rain" to the "Broadway Rhythm" sequence where Cyd Charisse steals the movie without saying a word. In my view, Charisse, who is still gorgeous at 83, was the quintessential movie dancer of the 1950s. Her height, elegance, aloofness and those impossibly long legs -- along with an uncanny ability to match her style to that of her partner -- makes watching her dance a mesmerizing experience.

Many have said that the two numbers in "Singin' in the Rain" that feature Charisse probably belong in another movie. I don't know… as the flapper in jade, she sexes up Kelly's rube character to a steamy height unusual in movies of that era. In a dance full of wonderful moves, my favorite comes after she's left him with her cigarette holder. She sashays away from him, blowing on her nails in studied boredom. She's gotten some distance away, and as she tosses her right hand back, he throws down the cigarette holder, grabs her hand and brings her flying up to his chest, where she proceeds to slide down Kelly's thigh to the floor for one of several prone positions she takes during this duet, from which she returns to a standing position with amazing grace. I'm not wild about dances that rely heavily on props, but this one does so very effectively: they're amusing and they reinforce character.

And thank heaven for the artistic control that allowed Kelly to keep the "crazy veil" number in the picture. Charisse has discussed that dance, where she got to show off her early ballet training, most charmingly for a "Word of Mouth" feature on TCM. She and others have noted over the years that the wind machines required to keep that impossibly long veil moving and undulating between and above her and Kelly made filming a nightmare. But it looks effortless, on a set that is a subtle optical illusion—not as deep nor as sloped as it appears to be.

Both dances end the same way. Whether she's a cheap gangster's moll in garish green or a Grecian goddess in white, less obviously in a mobster's sway, Charisse is invariably lured back to reality by proffered baubles and menacingly tossed coins. But at the end of the crazy veil number, she's the one tossing the coins.

Wonderful.