Cinema
Trumpery ace
Ian Cameron Many of the cinema's most sublime moments have come during musicals. If! were feeling rash enough to attempt a definition of cinematic beauty, many of my examples would undoubtedly come from the musicals produced by Arthur Freed at MGM in the 'forties and 'fifties. Under Freed, directors like Vincente Minnelli, Stanley Donen, Gene Kelly and Charles Walters perfected an art of movement that had little in common with the ungainly geometry of Busby Berkeley.
A few of their finest creations can be seen in That's Entertainment, Part 2 (Empire, U Spectator 29 May 106 certificate), the shortcomings of which as 3 tribute to the MGM musical can be demonstrated on a purely statistical basis. Of the sixty-two items (including repeats) listed in the programme notes, only a dozen are indispensable measures, while another nineteen are nice to see again. The remainirig thirty-one range from adequate to nauseating. Apart from the unfortunate Jeanette Macdonald and Nelson Eddy, who are occused because they have so clearly been cluded to be laughed at, the ghastliest con' tributions are from Lena Horne singingd 'The Lady Is a Tramp' with a fixed smileanA, no apparent comprehension of the vi'orud' and from Frank Sinatra, white-tuxed°e atop a truncated column, backed by tiers ol similarly dressed musicians and a pink back: drop for an overblown 'Old Man River. Perhaps one should look at the whole CO pilation as an antidote to nostalgia, a011 tary demonstration of the sheer disparitY ° talent that coexisted in Culver City. k The advertising copy that aspires to the clips together is spoken, sung and, witt11 i, cautious elegance, danced by Gene ge'," and Fred Astaire. The shapelessness of the new material is more surprising than lf. rose-tintedness of MG M's view of it3e.„ 'Fred,' asks one voice-over, 'do you reale"'. ber those parties when Judy would get tiryl) and sing this?' (It's 'Have Yourself a Little Christmas', the only number incluoc from Meet Me in St Louis.) Announcing; during a number from Kiss Me, Kate, those Bob Fosse is dancing with Carol HaneYi°e, of the old gents on the soundtrack asks re assuringly, 'I wonder what hapPelleu for him ?' There could be no room here wondering what happened to her. back Still, the good half of the clips bring he happy memories and, on the whole, the happy shape of the screen is resPectend However, there are some miracles of Otto editing, one of which equips a dance nur° from Silk Stockings with an inapposite e score, and one or two numbers suffer son' ugly abridgement. In a retrospective week, the British affeer: ing, Aces High (ABC 1, Shaftesbury A0111A certificate) is mainly constructed ff,.005 R. C. Sherriff's Journey's End, which Pthe been transposed from the trenches t° the Royal Flying Corps. So it's sing-songs ill the mess at night and dog-fights at dawnlaughs. ironical points that need to be made in r, minded pictures about the First World ,tfig are dutifully deployed, and the whole t"
is very decently done. vita What I cannot see from the film Is the anyone should want to make it, un r
less producer was looking for a respectable tift're: mat in which to present an aerial advent rist I hasten to say that I find the anti-milita that
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sentiments entirely sympathetic an &oh 1914-18 is as good a period as any in vii,tch to set a movie. The raw material with which Aces High is working appears to be 0111 rd than a competent working out of stall,,e0( themes with characters who today aPyrke stereotyped—ordinary but won"—, res' stuff which elicits a very professiona' Porise from its director and cast. The trouble 1,a fatal been endemic in the British cinema:
fatal lack of passionate commitment. The good story well told is not to be derided. It is indeed a jolly good show, but was it really worth the trouble?
This is a disappointment because the director is Jack Gold, who can do remarkable things on television. Seeing Aces High a few months after Gold's televised Naked Civi/Servant is a powerful reminder that it is now the small screen that can offer directors tile chance to tackle subjects that seem too risky to the morosely unadventurous moguls of the British cinema.
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