In the early part of the twentieth century the divide between the theatrical branch and the cinematic branch of the acting profession was much greater than it is today, and relations between the two branches were not always cordial, with stage actors regarding the cinema as a vulgar pantomime and screen actors regarding theatricals as snobbish and pretentious. To judge by the barbed satire aimed at Broadway in "All about Eve", relations do not appear to have improved much by the early fifties, and "The Band Wagon" is another film from the same period designed to show that anything Broadway could do, Hollywood could do better. Even putting on a stage production.
Tony Hunter is a song-and-dance Hollywood star who comes back East to take the lead in "The Band Wagon", a stage musical written by his friends, the husband-and-wife partnership of Lester and Lily Marton. (Tony is not only based upon but also played by Fred Astaire). Unfortunately, the production has fallen into the hands of Jeffrey Cordova, a pretentious, self-obsessed Broadway actor- director who wants to turn the Martons' light-hearted comedy into a portentous modern-day reinterpretation of the Faust legend. Predictably, Cordova's production turns out to be a total flop and its backers pull out, whereupon Mr Hollywood rides to the rescue. Tony offers to sell his personal art collection to refinance the show on condition he is given total artistic control. He ditches Cordova's ideas and restores the Martons' original conception; Cordova is enough of a good sport to recognise the justice of Tony's complaints and continues to act in the show. Equally predictably, Tony's production proves a rip-roaring success.
A sub-plot deals with Tony's romance with the show's leading lady, a beautiful prima ballerina named Gaby. The two start off by taking an instant dislike to one another, but in that hoary old rom-com cliché (hoary even in 1953), hatred at first sight is always the prelude to true love. Gaby, in fact, already has a boyfriend, a choreographer named Paul, but as he proves to be a snobbish culture-vulture of the same stamp as Cordova, he can quite safely be discarded. So there we have it. Mr Hollywood proves that that he can direct a theatrical production better than any of those snooty Broadway types, and is rewarded for doing so by winning the heart of a girl young enough to be his daughter.
A later Astaire musical, "Funny Face", was famously (and in my view wrongly), attacked by the film critic of "The Times" for its alleged "anti-intellectualism". (The film-makers' offence was to have poked fun at Jean-Paul Sartre, something of a sacred cow in the fifties). I felt, however, that the same charge could have been brought, with greater justice, against "The Band Wagon". I found myself sympathising with Cordova much more than I was supposed to. Certainly, the man has his faults, but at least he has some sort of artistic vision and respect for culture. Tony, by contrast, is all too obviously the sort of man who, when he hears the words "culture" or "artistic vision", reaches for his (metaphorical) revolver. We never get to see very much of what Cordova's "Faust" musical would have been like, but we see quite lengthy excerpts from the original version of the show, and it appears to be less a musical than a revue, a series of miscellaneous sketches with no unifying theme. The "Louisiana Hayride" number looks like a rip-off of "Oklahoma!", "Triplets" is a novelty comic song and the finale is an attempt to turn a Chandleresque hard-boiled detective story into a musical comedy. (Yes, it's just as bizarre as it sounds).
According to one legend, the report on Astaire after his first screen test for RKO read "Can't sing. Can't act. Balding. Can dance a little," and (apart from the "balding" part) the same could have been said of his leading lady here, Cyd Charisse. OK, Cyd could dance more than just "a little"; she was a former ballerina who was perhaps the best female dancer in Hollywood at this period. She was also a great beauty who undoubtedly had the best legs in Hollywood, notwithstanding any claims to the contrary made on behalf of Betty Grable. She was not, however, a great singer or actress. The first of these problems could be overcome by dubbing her singing voice, but there was little anyone could do about the second. There is little chemistry between her and Astaire and the scene where they initially quarrel seems particularly contrived and artificial. This lack of chemistry is not necessarily simply due to the age gap; Astaire was to combine rather better with his co- star in "Funny Face", Audrey Hepburn, who was eight years younger even than Charisse.
On the positive side, the whole thing is very professionally and slickly produced; Astaire shows that his dancing skills had not been diminished by his advancing years, although to be honest he was never a great singer. (There may be some truth in that RKO legend). There are some decent songs, such as "That's Entertainment!" and "Dancing in the Dark". The story, however, is not a very interesting one and merely serves as a framework on which to hang a very miscellaneous ragbag of song-and-dance numbers. "The Band Wagon", in the sense of the real-life film, has little more coherence than the fictitious stage show with which it shares a name. 6/10
Tony Hunter is a song-and-dance Hollywood star who comes back East to take the lead in "The Band Wagon", a stage musical written by his friends, the husband-and-wife partnership of Lester and Lily Marton. (Tony is not only based upon but also played by Fred Astaire). Unfortunately, the production has fallen into the hands of Jeffrey Cordova, a pretentious, self-obsessed Broadway actor- director who wants to turn the Martons' light-hearted comedy into a portentous modern-day reinterpretation of the Faust legend. Predictably, Cordova's production turns out to be a total flop and its backers pull out, whereupon Mr Hollywood rides to the rescue. Tony offers to sell his personal art collection to refinance the show on condition he is given total artistic control. He ditches Cordova's ideas and restores the Martons' original conception; Cordova is enough of a good sport to recognise the justice of Tony's complaints and continues to act in the show. Equally predictably, Tony's production proves a rip-roaring success.
A sub-plot deals with Tony's romance with the show's leading lady, a beautiful prima ballerina named Gaby. The two start off by taking an instant dislike to one another, but in that hoary old rom-com cliché (hoary even in 1953), hatred at first sight is always the prelude to true love. Gaby, in fact, already has a boyfriend, a choreographer named Paul, but as he proves to be a snobbish culture-vulture of the same stamp as Cordova, he can quite safely be discarded. So there we have it. Mr Hollywood proves that that he can direct a theatrical production better than any of those snooty Broadway types, and is rewarded for doing so by winning the heart of a girl young enough to be his daughter.
A later Astaire musical, "Funny Face", was famously (and in my view wrongly), attacked by the film critic of "The Times" for its alleged "anti-intellectualism". (The film-makers' offence was to have poked fun at Jean-Paul Sartre, something of a sacred cow in the fifties). I felt, however, that the same charge could have been brought, with greater justice, against "The Band Wagon". I found myself sympathising with Cordova much more than I was supposed to. Certainly, the man has his faults, but at least he has some sort of artistic vision and respect for culture. Tony, by contrast, is all too obviously the sort of man who, when he hears the words "culture" or "artistic vision", reaches for his (metaphorical) revolver. We never get to see very much of what Cordova's "Faust" musical would have been like, but we see quite lengthy excerpts from the original version of the show, and it appears to be less a musical than a revue, a series of miscellaneous sketches with no unifying theme. The "Louisiana Hayride" number looks like a rip-off of "Oklahoma!", "Triplets" is a novelty comic song and the finale is an attempt to turn a Chandleresque hard-boiled detective story into a musical comedy. (Yes, it's just as bizarre as it sounds).
According to one legend, the report on Astaire after his first screen test for RKO read "Can't sing. Can't act. Balding. Can dance a little," and (apart from the "balding" part) the same could have been said of his leading lady here, Cyd Charisse. OK, Cyd could dance more than just "a little"; she was a former ballerina who was perhaps the best female dancer in Hollywood at this period. She was also a great beauty who undoubtedly had the best legs in Hollywood, notwithstanding any claims to the contrary made on behalf of Betty Grable. She was not, however, a great singer or actress. The first of these problems could be overcome by dubbing her singing voice, but there was little anyone could do about the second. There is little chemistry between her and Astaire and the scene where they initially quarrel seems particularly contrived and artificial. This lack of chemistry is not necessarily simply due to the age gap; Astaire was to combine rather better with his co- star in "Funny Face", Audrey Hepburn, who was eight years younger even than Charisse.
On the positive side, the whole thing is very professionally and slickly produced; Astaire shows that his dancing skills had not been diminished by his advancing years, although to be honest he was never a great singer. (There may be some truth in that RKO legend). There are some decent songs, such as "That's Entertainment!" and "Dancing in the Dark". The story, however, is not a very interesting one and merely serves as a framework on which to hang a very miscellaneous ragbag of song-and-dance numbers. "The Band Wagon", in the sense of the real-life film, has little more coherence than the fictitious stage show with which it shares a name. 6/10