Aside from instilling in me an early love of yellow rain slickers, my first viewing of Singing in the Rain at seven years old was a revelation. Every scene crackled with spark and energy- the drama, the dance, and the song, all combining into one incredible triple threat. It’s a film that was named in the top ten of the American Film Institute’s 100 Greatest Movies, but given its lukewarm critical reception at the time of its release, what gave this musical such staying power?
Much of the film’s strength lies in its cast-the lithe and athletic Gene Kelly, his side-splitting sidekick, Donald O’Connor, and the fresh-faced, doe-eyed Debbie Reynolds. But what makes this film so great is its commentary on the film industry, in a way that is still astonishingly relevant today. Singing in the Rain features a film within a film within a film, all of which flow effortlessly between each other. This is perhaps not so unusual now, with the slew of titles relating to the worldwide obsession with its favorite medium, but at the time, movies about movies were still relatively novel. The film comments on the arrival of talking pictures in the 1920s, and the industry’s scramble to keep up with new technology was a catalyst in the entertainment world. Best of all is the humorous stand that the film takes on the ludicrousness of entertainment, especially the infectious adoration of film stars, whose egos match the size of their giant silver screens.
However, though Singing in the Rain might mock cinema culture, it never ceases to revel in the magic of the movies, right down to the eye-popping hues of its vivid flapper costumes and Technicolor skies. Much is made of Kelly’s admittedly incredible dance sequence in the rain, but the other numbers are also as dazzling. Nowhere is this better seen in the “Broadway Melody” portion of the film, in which Kelly’s dancing sways and springs across the screen in a breathtaking range of styles, from jazz to ballet. The effect, along with the music, is enchanting and exciting, full of the glamour and glitz of old cinema. And who can forget the irresistible charm of Donald O’Connor’s acrobatic “Make ‘Em Laugh?”
A few weeks ago, I saw this movie in a hotel in Copenhagen, Denmark, and I’m pleased to note that it hadn’t lost any of the luster fourteen years later. Cyd Charisse’s legs were still just as long, Kathy Seldon was still popping out of a towering cake, and “Make ‘Em Laugh” still made me… laugh. In short, this film is timeless, a perfect blend of comedy and commentary, pop culture and high art. The lasting effects of Singing in the Rain are so numerous that counting them seems impossible-from Volkswagen ad campaigns to Britain’s Got Talent to skits on Saturday Night Live. But it is the unreserved love of cinema that makes Singing in the Rain such a success-this is a film full of magic and romance and laughter, that loves being a film and makes no apologies.
