If I judged a musical on the quality of the cast, the songs and its production values, this movie would be rated very highly indeed. However, there are also things to be considered like characterisation, acting, plotting and a little thing, I appreciate not always thought important in Hollywood particularly in bio-pics and that is adherence to the truth. Apparently Richard Rodgers could find only one thing to like about the film and that was the depiction of his wife which tells you something about the rest.
It only takes a few minutes to read up on the true facts of the short, sad life of Lorenz Hart, to appreciate how much of his story is bowdlerised. Hart was reportedly a real-life alcoholic, only hinted at here, but more importantly, was a closet homosexual unable it would appear, to live with the guilt and shame of it. Here, we see him strike out with a series of girls, including one supposed to be the love of his life, but far more insulting and unfeeling is the inference that he had an inferiority complex about his height which leads to the so-bad-it's-comical climactic scene where Hart expires in the doorway of the shoe-shop where he earlier bought a pair of shoe-lifts to supposedly help him with the ladies. Considering that in real life Mickey Rooney managed to marry screen-goddess Ava Gardner, it would seem that a lack of height wasn't such a big disadvantage to him.
It doesn't help either that Rooney otherwise overacts on a grand scale and lack of inches apart, in no way made me think of the great lyricist. Tom Drake as Rodgers goes the other way, no pun intended, with his wooden portrayal of the great melodicist, leaving a great big hole at the centre of the picture for which no amount of star cameos singing and performing stunning musical set-pieces of the highest ordercan compensate, the best of these being Judy Garland belting out "Johnny One-Note", Lena Horne tearing through "The Lady Is A Tramp" and Mel Torme's gentle croon of "Blue Moon". I thought the music to Rodgers' "Slaughter On 10th Avenue" sensational but feel that Gene Kelly, for all his undoubted athleticism overacted his part while the less said about the later singing-pullover Perry Como trying to swing-along with "Mountain Greenery" the better.
Listen, this film is so sanitised it should be shown in a hospital ward and I believe does a great disservice to this undoubtedly great songwriting partnership, even as I understand the reasons at the time for its blatant censorship. And just don't get me started about Lena Horne's scenes being cut out when shown to Southern audiences.
Clearly anachronistic to modern day audiences this film might work better if all the supposed drama was omitted and all the musical numbers spliced together. More music and less words, I say.
It only takes a few minutes to read up on the true facts of the short, sad life of Lorenz Hart, to appreciate how much of his story is bowdlerised. Hart was reportedly a real-life alcoholic, only hinted at here, but more importantly, was a closet homosexual unable it would appear, to live with the guilt and shame of it. Here, we see him strike out with a series of girls, including one supposed to be the love of his life, but far more insulting and unfeeling is the inference that he had an inferiority complex about his height which leads to the so-bad-it's-comical climactic scene where Hart expires in the doorway of the shoe-shop where he earlier bought a pair of shoe-lifts to supposedly help him with the ladies. Considering that in real life Mickey Rooney managed to marry screen-goddess Ava Gardner, it would seem that a lack of height wasn't such a big disadvantage to him.
It doesn't help either that Rooney otherwise overacts on a grand scale and lack of inches apart, in no way made me think of the great lyricist. Tom Drake as Rodgers goes the other way, no pun intended, with his wooden portrayal of the great melodicist, leaving a great big hole at the centre of the picture for which no amount of star cameos singing and performing stunning musical set-pieces of the highest ordercan compensate, the best of these being Judy Garland belting out "Johnny One-Note", Lena Horne tearing through "The Lady Is A Tramp" and Mel Torme's gentle croon of "Blue Moon". I thought the music to Rodgers' "Slaughter On 10th Avenue" sensational but feel that Gene Kelly, for all his undoubted athleticism overacted his part while the less said about the later singing-pullover Perry Como trying to swing-along with "Mountain Greenery" the better.
Listen, this film is so sanitised it should be shown in a hospital ward and I believe does a great disservice to this undoubtedly great songwriting partnership, even as I understand the reasons at the time for its blatant censorship. And just don't get me started about Lena Horne's scenes being cut out when shown to Southern audiences.
Clearly anachronistic to modern day audiences this film might work better if all the supposed drama was omitted and all the musical numbers spliced together. More music and less words, I say.