MGM Movie Musical Marathon (or why my friends are awesome)

          I decided recently that I wanted cable. I just woke up one morning and decided that I am an adult and that I was tired of basic cable with its 14 Spanish channels and 15 evangelist networks. When making phone inquiries about possible cable packages, one salesman started his speech about their new NFL package. I had to interrupt him so as not to waste his time:

          "You can skip the spiel," I said, "I don't really care about the NFL".

          "Well, we also have our baseball package special starting--"

          "I don't give a shit about sports. What I really want to know is whether or not you offer TCM."

          "TCM?"

          "Yes, Turner Classic Movies".

          My friends got me a set of DVD's featuring four of TCM's favorite MGM musicals for my birthday. Now that I am done with the Czech opera, I had a musical marathon last weekend. I am saving Meet me in St. Louis for Christmas so when I had watched Singin' in the Rain and couldn't get through The Band Wagon, (there's a reason you've probably never heard of it), I could not stop myself from watching Easter Parade even though I normally only allow myself a viewing in the spring. Some rules are worth breaking. You may remember this scene from the Hoover vacuum commercials from years ago:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wi9w09suO5E

          The use of a blue screen here must have been very novel then and I must admit that I find it no less awesome today, but then I have the soul of an octogenarian. Now I grew up watching Easter Parade and playing the music on my grandmother's player piano, but after hearing the lackluster tunes in The Bandwagon my roommate agreed that all of the numbers in Easter Parade, written by Irving Berlin, are completely riveting. The orchestration is also pretty great here although Berlin couldn't have been the arranger. Irving Berlin could only play the piano in one key. True story. He had a special transposing piano that he donated to the Smithsonian upon his death. And yes, that is Judy Garland at the opening of the scene. I often forget until the next time I hear her sing a ballad, how she could get that amazing sound that is just like she is crying through the melody. Oh yeah, Fred Astaire is pretty amazing too. I have managed to muddle my way through years of musical theatre and opera movement class, but I generally watch professional dancers with the same kind of awe that tone-deaf people must have for singers. I love the look on his face at the end of this number: He seems to be saying: "That's right. I ripped that one up."

          I agree with what I have read about Irving Berlin's simple, straightforward style. There is very little else that is so in tune with the American vernacular. While his contemporaries were concerned with incorporating jazz, European and other ethnic elements in their work, Irving Berlin on the other hand, didn't really care about any of that. He grew up in a Russian Jewish ghetto in New York and wasn't particularly concerned with the great composers, but rather, I picture him as having been someone like my grandfather. He just wanted to see an uplifting show with some good tunes in it. In my own work I often get so bogged down with weighty Germanic symbolism and grappling with the cosmos that I sometimes forget how just plain old entertaining something like this can be. But then I have always been a sucker for tap shoes, blaring trumpets, and belting out show tunes.

Another great number from the movie:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rlUXtDrhWDk