Dancing Cheek To Cheek, Oops-Ginger Rogers And Fred Astaire’s “Roberta” (1935)-A Film Review 

[Sam Lowell, the now retired free-lance journalist who worked with a number of reviewers here has already given his take on being a kid with two left feet in a companion piece to this review. (Actually, in his usual over the top way he only used this review as a foil to express his boyhood frustrations at not being able to dance. I know my man well having worked with him to old days when we were both stringers at American Film Gazette before he moved on and I worked my way up the food chain there before coming over to this publication to finish out my career and once again reunite with the old curmudgeon.) Naturally an over-the-top guy has to try and out shine whoever is doing the companion piece. Unfortunately I don’t have a story at hand to compete with Sam’s high school flame experience meshing with a girl with two left feet whom he did not trip over while dancing the famous, maybe infamous, last chance last dance of the school or church event.

Sam didn’t get a chance to trip over those feet because she tripped over his (to his apparent delight the way he related the story) and full of apologies tried to placate him by accepting his offer to head to the shore and watch the “submarine races.” That is what the teens called it in his locale we just called it fogging up the window shield if in a car and “necking” if not but it was the same heated hormones adventure in either locale. For one of the few times in his life, certainly he never told the truth about any fellow film reviewer during his career in this dog eat dog business, Sam confessed to the girl in question that he did know how to dance either thereafter suggesting that they form a Two-Left Feet Club. He went to heaven when she replied -with only two members. How are you going to compete with a story like that. No way. Truth: I never got a chance to display my own two left feet for except in the acknowledged privacy of my lonely midnight hour room I never went to dances in high school. So I will just have to present this review and take a backseat on this stuff. S.S]

 

DVD Review

By Sandy Salmon

Roberta, Ginger Rogers, Fred Astaire, Irene Dunne, music by Jerome Kern, 1935

I can’t dance, can’t dance a lick. Like a lot of guys, maybe gals too but I will just concentrate on guys here, I have two left feet. Nevertheless I have always been intrigued by people who can dance and do it well. Have been fascinated by the likes of James Brown and Michael Jackson growing up. As a kid though I, unlike most of the guys around my way, was weaned on the musicals, the song and dance routines where the couples kicked out the jams. Top of the list in those efforts were the dance team of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers whose dancing mesmerized a two left feet kid just at a time when I was coming of age, coming of school dance and checking out girls age and once in a while in the privacy of my lonely room I would try to work out a couple of steps sent on the big screen. No success. Although I had never viewed the Rogers-Astaire film under review back then I got a distinct rush of déjà vu watching this film, Roberta.          

Déjà vu is right since although I had not viewed the film on one of those dark Saturday afternoon matinee double-features when they were running a retrospective at the local theater I already knew what was going to happen. I had seen say Top Hat then and if the truth be known the formula did not vary that much in the whole series of song and dance films Astaire and Rogers did together. It was not about story line although it probably helped the director to have a working script so he could figure out where to have somebody burst out in song, or trip over a table and begin an extended dance routine. That said the “cover” story here is Fred leading a band of upstart Americans into gay Paree (gay in the old-fashioned sense of being happy, thrilled) expecting to have a gig which went south on them. Fred meets Ginger working as Polish countess who is into high fashion which I expect everyone knows old Paris is famous for. That’s allows those bursts into song and dance to go forth without too much interference from the story-line. In short do as I did as a kid and now too just watch Ginger and Fred go through their paces. That’s worth the price of admission.  That and tunes like Smoke Gets In Your Eyes via the magical and under-rated composer Jerome Kern