Judy Garland

  • Girl Crazy (1943)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2021) As much as we profess to dislike film formulas, they exist because they work. Once you’ve found something that works, why bother changing it? Of course, staleness is the constant danger, and there can be a time where the most entertaining thing about a film series is the way it keeps reworking core concepts in ever-wilder situations. Girl Crazy is the ninth and last film to co-star Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney, and the amazing thing about it is how, despite taking its actors to an isolated western ranch campus in twentysomething roles, it still manages to cram in the “let’s put on a show to save the orphanage!” plot of most of their earlier small-town backyard movies. It’s quite impressive in a way… and it comes later enough in the film that we’ve had a fill of new stuff to tide us over. As is often the case, this is a film of moments and musical pieces rather than a sustained narrative — adapted from a Broadway musical, it does have a few snappy numbers and the presence of Tommy Dorsey’s orchestra — “Treat me Rough,” “Fascinating Rhythm” and “I Got Rhythm” are notable standouts, with that last number being a typical Berkeley Busby spectacle before he was replaced as a director by more mild-mannered Norman Taurog. Style and setting of the film bring to mind an appropriate double-billing with Too Many Girls. Girl Crazy is not that good of a musical, but it’s watchable and arguably more interesting than many of the Garland/Rooney films in which the backyard premise was repeated too often without variation even as they were growing older.

  • Presenting Lily Mars (1943)

    Presenting Lily Mars (1943)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) I’m resigned to the fact that I’ll end up seeing Presenting Lily Mars a few more times in my life — not because it’s good, not because it’s bad, but because it’s so utterly generic. I will forget all about it and then grow curious enough to watch it again. Hence this review as a warning to myself. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before, classic movie fans: Small-town girl goes to Broadway, where she catches her break and becomes a star. Even saying that Judy Garland stars in the film doesn’t help narrow it all that much. Fortunately, the film itself is not bad even in its utter genericity: the usually likable Van Heflin co-stars, and the film eventually works itself up to a big musical finale to the tune of “Broadway Rhythm.”  Much of the film was tailored for Garland, intending to smooth her transition from child star to adult actress with a coming-of-age story beginning with a small-town girl and ending with a Broadway star. Mid-1940s is probably my favourite Garland era, and Presenting Lily Mars is a clear demonstration of why. As for the rest, it’s a familiar film both in form and function — not much removed from the Broadway Melody films, or any of the near-countless movie musicals that used a rise to Broadway stardom as their narrative engine. Heflin and Garland do bring something extra for their fans, but otherwise this is the same song-and-dance — which is admittedly very watchable.

  • Strike up the Band (1940)

    Strike up the Band (1940)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, April 2021) Fifth in a series of ten movies that paired Judy Garland with Mickey Rooney, Strike Up the Band uses the couple’s most frequent formula: a series of contrivances leading them to put on a show in order to save something or someone or other. Clearly patterned on Babes in Arms (same stars, same premise) but with a slightly bigger panache to wow the audiences, the film is clearly meant to be familiar to the audiences at the time. Early-1940s Garland and Rooney had plenty of youthful sparkle and the camaraderie that came from working together so often. The plot itself is bland, but some of the numbers are still well worth seeing: with Busby Berkeley at the helm, it’s no surprise if the lavish, complicated dance number “Do the La Conga” is the film’s highlight, with plenty of dancers moving to a catchy rhythm. (There’s also a fun number with instrument-playing fruits — and it’s announced by the opening credits.)  It’s an early production of the Arthur Freed unit that would go on to make many of MGM’s most celebrated musicals, so there’s clearly the spark (if not quite the polish) of later well-known productions. For film buffs, Strike Up the Band is a bridge between Garland/Rooney’s “Andy Hardy” teen movies and the musical super-productions she would later star in. It’s amiable enough to be worth a watch — and some of the numbers are memorable.

  • Words and Music (1948)

    Words and Music (1948)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, April 2021) Hollywood based many musicals on the life of Broadway composers—you wouldn’t believe how many. On one level, the attraction is easy to understand: it’s a made-to-order way to insert musical numbers as part of the show, the rights to the music come in as a bundle, and audiences of the time presumably had fond memories of the tunes and their context. A modern equivalent would be the musical jukebox-musical biopic, which is alive and doing very well. On the other hand, Hollywood often mismanaged the material: The lives of the composers were often scrubbed of any detail that wouldn’t be acceptable by the Production Code (and considering the higher-than-average proportion of homosexuals as Broadway creatives, there’s an entire aspect of early Twentieth-century pop culture that simply isn’t covered in its Hollywood dramatizations). Nowadays, “Rodgers and Hammerstein” is a legendary duo of composers, but in 1948 the audience knew the duo as a still-fresh replacement for “Rodgers and Hart,” and Hart’s story is the one we see in Words and Music. Played by then former boy matinee idol Mickey Rooney, Hart’s character is not faithfully represented at all: Alcoholism and depression? Yes. Homosexuality? Again, no. (Which led to some hilarious reviews telling viewers that the film wasn’t accurate, but the reviews themselves were unable to specify why.)  Generally speaking, Words and Music is not all that interesting in its first half, as both the successes and the tragedy ramp up quite a bit in the second half once the duo makes their way to Hollywood and Hart’s self-destructive actions reach a tragic ending. From a musical fan’s perspective, the film (from the fabled Freed unit) is far more interesting at the edges than in the core of its story, because that’s where we find short appearances by MGM players such as Gene Kelly (dancing with Vera-Ellen in—yes—a gangster ballet), Judy Garland, Cyd Charisse and, far more strikingly, Lena Horne — Her first number “Where or When” is a sedate reminder about her talents as a signer, but then she starts tearing into “The Lady is a Tramp” and we know it’s the film’s single best number. Meanwhile, the central story of Hart and Rodgers unfolds along predictable lines all the way to the tragic ending. Rooney is not bad as Hart, with the movie making good use of his small stature in portraying a man complexed by his own short height. Words and Music is not near the top of MGM’s best musicals, and its appeal can be found in either appreciating the contributions of the bit players, or seeing this as the cleaned-up prequel to the far better-remembered Rodgers and Hammestein partnership. Either way, it’s a movie that is perhaps best defined by factors other than its main premise, which is a bit odd but not uncharacteristic of other second-tier MGM musicals at the time.

  • For Me and My Gal (1942)

    For Me and My Gal (1942)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, April 2021) While rough and unpolished around the edges, For Me and My Gal owes much to its early pairing of Judy Garland and Gene Kelly. For Kelly, this was his film debut, and while it’s far from taking advantage of his talents in dancing or choreography, his considerable charm as a performer is already apparent. For Garland, this was a first adult role after some time as a child or teen star — to twenty-first-century audiences, she here appears unusually cute and relaxed, before her drug abuse and personal issues prematurely aged her. As a couple, both of them are quite likable. As for the story itself, it’s an often-unwieldy fusion between vaudeville comedy, wartime heroism and conventional romance, as Kelly’s character mains himself in order not to be drafted into World War I, then changes his mind after being called a coward by everyone. Don’t worry — For Me and My Gal ends well, but there’s a good chunk of the film that steps away from comedy and into more serious drama right on time to whip American audiences to serve in the first days of America’s involvement in World War II. Still, the fun of the film is in the musical numbers, Kelly’s early performance as a young man and Garland looking unusually good. It’s an early prototype for other movies Kelly would make later (two more of them with Garland, although she was struggling by the time The Pirates and Summer Stock rolled around) but you can already see the greatness here in Kelly’s ease in front of the camera and as a singer/dancer. For Me and My Gal is a minor entry compared to what would follow, but it’s well worth a look.

  • Little Nellie Kelly (1940)

    Little Nellie Kelly (1940)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) While Little Nellie Kelly isn’t much of a film on its own terms, it becomes more interesting in context. It’s one of the early films from MGM’s famed “Freed Unit” that eventually led to some of the best musicals in Hollywood history — and you can hear here a version of “Singin’ in the Rain” sung by none other than a youthful Judy Garland. Garland herself plays an Irish young woman who emigrates to America to follow her husband, but dies along the way — and Garland then returns to play her first character’s daughter. Filled to the brim with Irish idioms (is there anything more Hollywoodish than an Irish beat cop?), it’s adapted from an even older 1922 George M. Cohan Broadway play. As such, it’s not exactly a story told in subtleties — what with killing off a character and time-skipping ahead to her daughter, it’s generous with the “American Immigrant Experience,” the power of love over all other things, and (obviously) some song-and-dance to make everything go down easier. Garland here transitions from youth roles to more adult ones (though she would slip back with Meet Me in Saint-Louis), even if the 18-year-old actress was already acting ten years older with her ruinous lifestyle. Still, little of that was reflected on-screen as she played the role of an innocent felled by tragedy, and then an offspring trying to succeed despite obstacles — she’s young and pretty and lively. Considering this, you can see why Little Nellie Kelly is far more interesting as an early prototype of other, better movies.

  • Ziegfeld Girl (1941)

    Ziegfeld Girl (1941)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) In some ways, you can see Ziegfeld Girl as the second of an informal trilogy of MGM movies about Florenz Ziegfeld Jr. —or more specifically the Ziegfeld Follies revue productions that he created for Broadway. Their appeal could be summed up in a word: Girls. 1945’s Ziegfeld Follies was MGM’s attempt to re-create his shows with lavish means and the biggest stars in the business. Before that, 1936’s Academy-Award-winning biopic The Great Ziegfeld showed us the man’s life, and produced some of the most stunning musical numbers of 1930s American cinema along the way. Some of those set-pieces are reused in 1941’s Ziegfeld Girls, which foregoes the man himself to focus on the fictional story of three girls who become part of the show. That, in itself, would be a decent-enough backstage musical, but that’s before taking a look at the cast. Not only do you have James Stewart playing a vaguely disreputable truck driver getting annoyed at his girlfriend’s greater fame (a role somewhat less sympathetic than usual for Stewart, who doesn’t sing a line), you also have the girls themselves being played by none other than Judy Garland, Hedy Lamarr and Lana Turner — a ridiculously stacked cast, if you’ll pardon the expression. Garland is at her youthful best here, not yet showing the strains of studio life — her “Minnie From Trinidad” is the film’s standout number, as long as you put aside the unfortunate cultural issue of having her perform as a darker-skinned girl. Lamarr and Turner don’t sing, but their roles as still good showcases, and the combined impact of all three is not bad — and I’m saying this a someone who’s usually indifferent to Turner and often unimpressed with Garland. Ziegfeld Girl doesn’t manage to be a great musical, but it does have enough running for it to distinguish itself from the crowded arena of Broadway backstage musicals. Reusing some of the lavish numbers from The Great Ziegfeld must have been great for MGM’s bottom line, and it does add visual impact (as well as the gravitas associated with the earlier prestige production) to Ziegfeld Girl. It’s a nice-enough film, although I suspect that some modern viewers (as I nearly did) may run the risk of thinking they’ve seen it already due to its title being very similar to the two other films in MGM’s informal trilogy.

  • The Harvey Girls (1946)

    The Harvey Girls (1946)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2021) I’m overdosing on Broadway musical comedies at the moment, so any musical comedy that heads out in a different direction is good news to me right now, and The Harvey Girls does offer a noticeable change of scenery—heading out west on a train, with a small crew of young girls ready to start working at the frontier Harvey House. Following the tangents of classic Hollywood movies is often as much fun as watching the movies themselves, and that’s how I ended up reading about the Harvey Houses (whose openings, as railway lines were extended throughout the 1880s, marked the arrival of modern comforts in the west) and the Harvey Girls (who often found husbands in frontier towns, further contributing to colonization). But little of that knowledge is essential to enjoying the song and dance numbers of the film. Judy Garland stars as a young woman seeking an engagement to a pen pal, with some support from notables such as Angela Lansbury (playing a dancehall madam), Cyd Charisse (in her first speaking role) and my own favourite Virginia O’Brien in what is best called a featured half-role. (The arc involving her character was cut midway through during the very long shooting due to her advancing pregnancy—but she gets “The Wild, Wild West,” a rather wonderful comic scene in which she sings in time with some blacksmithing and horse comfort.)  If you’ve been waiting for a film in which Garland, Charisse and O’Brien share a musical number—here it is, to the tune of “It’s a Great Big World” (even though Charisse is dubbed). The film’s biggest number is probably “On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe” (which ended up being a national hit song), with an honourable mention to Ray Bolger’s energetic tap-dancing during “Swing Your Partner Round and Round.”  The combination of favourite actors, memorable numbers and a more original than usual setting makes The Harvey Girl at least a second-tier musical and a solid hit for MGM’s Freed unit. It’s decently funny, historically interesting (as per my extracurricular reading), and romantic enough to wrap things up when the comic numbers end. I wonder what kind of career O’Brien would have had if she had been able to complete her character arc here—The Harvey Girls came toward the end of her brief filmography, with only a few more roles (including the female lead in the following year’s Merton of the Movies) before the end of her MGM contract and disappearance from the big screen.

  • The Clock (1945)

    The Clock (1945)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2021) Having a sailor on leave meet and woo a young woman was a surprisingly familiar premise of 1940s movie musicals, and one of The Clock’s most surprising characteristics is seeing this common trope being used as a basis for a romantic drama rather than sing-and-dance. The surprise gets bigger considering Arthur Freed as producer, Vincente Minelli at the helm and Judy Garland as the female lead—this was Garland’s first serious role as a young woman rather than a girl, and she doesn’t sing once. The film is decidedly low-key, with the stakes being almost entirely focused on the boy-meets-girl plot. Mid-1940s New York is convincingly portrayed, especially given that the entire film was shot in Los Angeles. Clearly meant to be less spectacular and more romantic than the previous Freed/Minnelli/Garland production Meet me in St. Louis, The Clock will strike some as a well-executed intimate drama and others as a bit of a disappointment compared to its most immediate contemporaries. But Garland is quite good here—attractive and playing in a dramatic register that is arguably more interesting than the roles for which she was pigeonholed through her career. The Clock is also notable for at least glancing at the issues raised by a whirlwind romance—it states that our couple of lovebirds will be fine once he comes back from the war, but at least it entertains the notion that this may be rough sailing for a while. While it doesn’t have the re-watchability of its closest equivalents, The Clock is perhaps best seen as a change of pace for everyone involved in it.

  • The Pirate (1948)

    The Pirate (1948)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2020) Gene Kelly and Judy Garland worked together five times through the ebb and flow of their careers (She helped him on his first film; he helped her on her last MGM picture,) but you can argue that The Pirate was the most ambitious of their movies, and perhaps the beginning of the end for her. Little of the film’s troubled production shows on-screen, as we’re taken to a fantasy version of the pirate-era Caribbean, as a lothario actor (Kelly) is convinced to play the pirate and charms a young woman (Garland) in the process. Many musical numbers ensue, and since this is an Arthur Freed production, the quality is about as high as any musical of the era. Bright colour cinematography helps a lot, but the costumes and sets show where the film’s budget was spent. Kelly is having fun aping the Fairbanks and Barrymores of silent serials, his role enabling him to play the athletic dancer, the romantic singer (“Niña” is quite funny) and the entertaining swashbuckler—this is his movie, and it’s fun to hear the relish through which he tears through his better-than-average dialogue. He also gets to sneak in a bit of ballet. Garland is actually quite nice here, and I say this as someone who usually considers Garland a liability to most of her movies—but in The Pirate she looks healthier than many of her later films, sings well, dances well, emotes well and even looks stunning in a number with her hair down. The bit in which she spends a scene throwing most of the scenery decorations at Kelly’s character is one of the many highlights of the film. Elsewhere in the film, I now understand the fuss about the similarities between “Be a Clown” and Singin’ in the Rain’s “Make Them Laugh.” But the number that everyone has to watch is the dancing sequence featuring Kelly and the Nicholas brothers—a high-energy production in which Kelly barely manages to keep up with the spring-loaded energy of the brothers. The Pirate starts well, has a bit of a mid-movie lull but comes back strong—there are better movies in Kelly’s filmography, but it’s still quite a fun musical. I suppose I’m getting to be knowledgeable about MGM musicals by now, because I had a really good time reading about The Pirate after watching the film and finding out how its commercial failure led to 1949’s Easter Parade.

  • In the Good Old Summertime (1949)

    In the Good Old Summertime (1949)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2020) Given how much I like Ernst Lubitsch’s The Shop Around the Corner and Buster Keaton and MGM musicals, I should like musical remake In the Good Old Summertime a lot more than the mild liking that I’ve got for it. Compared to everyone else, I’m the curmudgeon going “yeah, but it’s not as good as it could have been.” I strongly suspect that what sets me apart is my lack of affection for Judy Garland in general. Alas, this is a film revolves around Garland, presuming that everyone finds her irresistible. I don’t dislike her—not here, anyway (her decline had begun but wasn’t completely apparent, and there’s a scene early in this film where she lets her hair down and looks remarkably good). On the other hand, the film does put her front and centre of the plot, in which two feuding colleagues strike up an epistolary romance as audiences wait during the entire film for the truth to come out. Updating the time and place from a 1930s leather shop in Vienna to a 1900s musical instrument store in Chicago, In the Good Old Summertime cranks up the singing (inevitable, with Garland around) and dials down the sophisticated comedy in favour of more obvious gags. While I miss Lubitsch’s touch, it’s compensated somewhat by having Buster Keaton make a return to the screen after a long break: he not only designed gags for the movie, but parlayed one complex piece of physical comedy (the split-second destruction of a violin) into an acting role as a klutzy clerk. Elsewhere in the cast, Van Johnson is a decent lead, S. Z. Sakall has a typically good turn and this is technically Liza Minelli’s screen debut—as a three-year-old appropriately cast as Garland’s daughter. While I’m not bowled over by In the Good Old Summertime, it’s generally sympathetic and likable, a decent watch, and it features a few good moments. Just ignore me, as I rant in the corner about wanting more Lubitsch and James Stewart and Buster Keaton.

  • Broadway Melody of 1938 (1937)

    Broadway Melody of 1938 (1937)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) Decades before Internet movie reviewers started babbling about film franchises, here was Hollywood tapping the Broadway Melody IP for all it was worth with no less than four yearly instalments. Fortunately, there was still enough gas in the tank for the third instalment Broadway Melody of 1938 to showcase a few highlights. What’s worth remembering here? Eleanor Russell tap-dancing in a barn, Russell again dancing in New York City streets, a young Judy Garland singing the Broadway Melody song, and her fannish ode to Clark Gable. Otherwise, what’s thrown into this glorified sketch show is fairly ordinary stuff for 1930s musicals—all subplots revolving around new ingenues trying to make it big on Broadway (“Where thousands of young people come… to write home asking for money.”) Horses are also popular here, for some reason. It all ends with a Broadway show, of course, whose first highlight is a tap-dancing number featuring Judy Garland and a cute white car. But the piece de resistance is Russell’s end number, singing the Broadway Melody while tap dancing on a vast cityscape stage while surrounded by tuxedoed dancers. In between the musical numbers, it goes without saying that Broadway Melody of 1938 isn’t designed to be quite as strong. There is, for instance, an inexplicably recurring bit about a sneezing guy that was probably a lot funnier to the writers than the audience. Still, it’s intermittently impressive and interesting throughout for the unapologetic way it plays into the star system, the Broadway myths and film franchising opportunities of the time. The previous two films in the series are better, but sometimes you learn more from the imperfect ones.

  • Summer Stock (1950)

    Summer Stock (1950)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, September 2019) In the context of Judy Garland’s career, Summer Stock is often best known as her final MGM film and the one in which she inaugurated the tuxedo/fedora/nylons outfit that she would use as a trademark in her later years. But for those (such as myself) who don’t particularly like Garland, Summer Stock is best seen as solid MGM musical from the early 1950s, using the studio’s expertise to transform something fairly ordinary into a few remarkable set-pieces. Gene Kelly is the bigger draw here, as he plays a theatrical director who arrives with his troupe on a farm where he convinces the owner (Garland) that they will compensate for the imposition by doing chores while rehearsing their next show. Having found an excuse to blend the Broadway musical with a rural setting, Summer Stock quickly gets going in combining the two: One number has a red tractor as a centrepiece, while an anthology-worth piece has Gene Kelly dancing around with a newspaper and creaky boards. “Get Happy” would turn out to be Garland’s late-career standard number, but the film is bigger than her: The atmosphere is upbeat, the dance numbers are colourful and while the film is overshadowed by much-better musicals at around the same time (Singin’ in the Rain on one side, Easter Weekend on the other), it’s still a fun watch for any musical fan. This is Kelly and Garland doing what they do best, and their on-screen smiles are contagious.

  • Ziegfeld Follies (1945)

    Ziegfeld Follies (1945)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2019) For fans of golden-age Hollywood musicals, it’s easy to get excited about Ziegfeld Follies from the get-go, as the names pile up the opening credits: Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, Judy Garland, Cyd Charisse, Lena Horne, Lucille Ball in the same movie? Well, yes, but don’t expect a full narrative: As the opening number makes clear (featuring William Powell reprising his titular role in the Oscar-winning The Great Ziegfeld, looking down from paradise and wishing he could assemble another revue), this is a series of unconnected musical numbers and comic sketches featuring some of the era’s biggest stars. First number “Here’s to the Girls/Bring on the Wonderful Men” gets going with a bang, with Fred Astaire introducing Cyd Charisse leading to Lucille Ball in full grandiose Ziegfeld choreography, with a cute and very funny spoof from the deadpan Virginia O’Brien to wrap it up. The comedy numbers that follow have nearly all aged poorly—the comic style is broad, repetitive and laid on far too thick. The exception is the half-comedy, half-musical number “The Great Lady Has an Interview” in which a great-looking Judy Garland sings and charms her way through a satire of interviews—the number concludes with an extended comedy/dance/song tour de force from Garland. Still, there’s a lot more: Astaire features in three other numbers in the film, all of them quite different. “This Heart of Mine” starts on a conventional note with Astaire as a gentleman thief sneaking his way in a jewelry-heavy ball, where he dances with Lucille Bremer—but then the floor under them becomes a pair of treadmills and then a giant turntable and we see Astaire’s gift for innovative dance choreography take flight, leading to a cute conclusion. “Limehouse Blues” is something different, billed as a “dramatic pantomime” with a tragic storyline that takes Astaire (in yellowface, alas) through a vividly imagined Asian-inspired dance. But the kicker is “The Babbitt and The Bromide,” the sole golden-era joint performance by Astaire and Gene Kelly: the number plays up both the sincere admiration and the playful audience-imposed rivalry between the two screen legends. It’s everything such a joint performance between the two should be. For fans of more classical dancing/singing numbers, Esther Williams, Lena Horne and Kathryn Grayson all get standard numbers showing both their beauty and talent. A few other numbers and sketches round the film, perhaps the only other highlight being a half-funny comic sketch featuring Fanny Brice (one of Ziegfeld’s original 1910s girls) with Hume Cronyn (an actor still remembered in the 2010s for roles in 1980s films)—an astonishing duo. Disconnected, uneven but very impressive at times, Ziegfeld Follies is a real treat for golden Hollywood musical fans.

  • That’s Entertainment! (1974)

    That’s Entertainment! (1974)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, December 2018) In the running for the title of the greatest clip show ever made, That’s Entertainment! does have the advantage of great source material to draw from: nothing less than the heydays of MGM musicals, featuring greats such as Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly and so many others that it would be exhausting to list them all. Various stars such as James Stewart, Bing Crosby and Elizabeth Taylor introduce some of the archival segments. Helmed by writer/director Jack Haley Jr. from MGM’s library extensive library, the film is a pure celebration of musicals as an art form, and of MGM as a powerhouse studio. Ironically, the film also acts as a tombstone for the classical MGM—filmed on the studio’s backlot, That’s Entertainment! presents the MGM studios right after they were sold off to finance the studio’s debts. As a result, the backdrop behind the presenters is decrepit, rusted, faded, overgrown with weeds, showing Hollywood’s past grandeur in a documentary fashion. The contrast between that and the clip shows is astounding, as we get a quick greatest hits of MGM’s most memorable numbers and fascinating segments about Astaire, Kelly, Esther Williams and Judy Garland. That’s Entertainment! is an absolutely fascinating film, and it deserves its enduring popularity—TCM even used it, along with its sequels, as a perfect lead in to the New Year’s Eve celebrations. Now, I want a good affordable copy of it on Blu-Ray.