This is undoubtedly one of the best that Fred and Giner made at RKO in glorious black and white and it's singular inasmuch that one is able to wallow in the melodic melodies and literate lyrics whilst simultaneously marvelling at what Depression audiences would sit still for in terms of credibility. All three writers - Lee Loeb, Harold Buchman 'story' and Ernest Pagano 'screenplay' - racked up dozens of other credits - Pagano worked on four other Astaire movies, Carefree, again with Ginger, A Damsel In Distress, You Were Never Lovlier and You'll Never Get Rich - and presumably wrote all five screenplays in the same colander. Consider: The story opens in Paris; Astaire, dancing star of a Russian ballet troupe, is happy to stay there where he hopes to meet Linda Keene (Rogers) an American entertainer with whom he has fallen in love. Impresario Jeffrey Baird (Edward Everett Horton) wants Petrov (Astaire)to return to New York and dance at the Met but Petrov is adamant. Then, he meets Keene and learns she is sailing the very next day (from Paris, mind you, on a Liner, yet) on the Queen Ann so without further ado he informs Baird that he (Petrov) will sail to NY the next day. Just like that. No advance booking necessary, just turn up with your troupe of Russian dancers and yes, of course, you can have a couple of dozen staterooms at a couple of hours notice. More? Halfway across the Atlantic, Ginger, teed off with Fred, persuades the captain to allow her to leave on the plane that comes to collect air mail for New York. Yes, you heard. A plane lands on a liner in the middle of the Atlantic as a matter of course to collect mail. More? Gee, you're tough to please, but okay. The first real song and dance number occurs in the engine room of the ship and this is an engine room where you could eat off the highly POLISHED floor even as you marvel at the pristine art-deco pistons and other paraphernalia. Forget Gene O'Neill and the realistic engine rooms he was putting on stage a decade earlier in such plays as The Long Voyage Home, The Hairy Ape, etc, THIS is an engine room where grease, oil and dirt are strictly forbidden. More? Listen, there IS more, lots more but enough already. I only mention these little things so I can now say they don't MATTER. This is escapism, pure and simple. A great, great score boasting, in addition to the title song, Slap That Bass, Let's Call The Whole Thing Off, They All Laughed, I've Got Beginner's Luck and the immortal They Can't Take That Away From Me. Eric 'Slow Burn' Blore divvies up the laughs with Horton and a wonderful (but, alas, now lost) time is had by all.
Review of Shall We Dance
