" Flying Down to Rio." At the Regal Goon light
musical films are rare—as rare as good light music. It is far easier to make some sort of an impression
with a strong dramatic subject. And the best light musical
films, so far, have nearly all come from the Continent, from Germany or France, where perhaps the social atmosphere
is—or has been—more favourable to the expression of a
gaiety that is not mechanical and a sentiment that is not sentimental. Hollywood's Forty-Second Street was well
done, but it depended more on its dramatic interest than on its musical background. Most American musicals are laborious—too plainly the work of a team of entertainers who have struggled pretty grimly to evolve a light-hearted effect.
As Flying Down to Rio unrolls itself on the screen, one can almost overhear the story-conferences, the arguments, the
bright suggestions, the sighs of relief when the scenario is at last settled. Novelty was essential—so why not have the chorus-girls dancing in mid-air on the wings of aeroplanes ?
There they are, bevies of them, while the aeroplanes circle over Rio, and below, on the hotel terrace, the heroine's father, almost ruined by the machinations of Greeks and bankers, gazes up gratefully at this marvellous publicity spectacle which is about to restore his hotel to prosperity. But it is too evident that the girls must have been photographed in the studio, with the aerial views of Rio added afterwards.
However, the real star of the show is Fred Astaire. His dancing and some effective playing of jazz music are the best parts of an elaborate but mediocre entertainment.
CHARLES DAVY.
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