This blog is for rambling about, well, everything that interests me. Gardening. The Farm. Perfume. Fashion. Photography. Fried chicken. Books. Clutter. Hoarding. Sewing. Writing. Murder Mysteries. Bacon. TV. Movies. Restaurants. Cooking. Oh, and don't forget the cat pictures.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Movie: An American In Paris
Is that illegal?
I've seen many of the musical numbers, of course, on those television specials celebrating Hollywood. I suppose that those left me with the impression that I'd actually seen the movie. So when we got to Stanford Theatre and got into the first few minutes, I was startled to realize that I hadn't. And as the movie went on, I was more startled to realize, hey, this thing has a plot!
Yes, yes, I'm sure that all of you knew that. But I didn't. I tend to assume that musicals have no plot. And even as the contrary data points pile up (most recently, South Pacific), I continue to make that assumption.
But indeed, there is a plot. The artist. The pretty girl. The competition for the pretty girl's affections. The competition for the artist's affections. The misunderstandings.
It's all very nice, and I did of course root for the right romance, but I have something to confess: My favorite character is Adam Cook, the grumpy pianist, played by Oscar Levant, the grumpy (and very famous) pianist. When Oscar Levant was on the screen - he's in the center in that photo up there - he was the one I watched, no matter how sparkling everyone else's repartee or footwork.
So it's a big, grand, classic movie, but now I just want to see more of Oscar Levant.
Photo: Wikimedia Commons.
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