Swing Time (1936, George Stevens) (Patreon)

78/100

At least second viewing, last seen 20+ years ago. Easy to see why many consider this Astaire & Rogers' zenith—you've got either three or four stone-cold standards (not entirely sure whether "Never Gonna Dance" has had much of a life beyond this movie), arguably the most impressive dance routines when it comes to degree of difficulty (look at the shoes in which Rogers blithely hops railings and madly pirouettes, jesus christ), and a genuine director in George Stevens (who at one point shoots Penny dancing with Romero from a distance in what turns out to be the reflection of a door, which Lucky then opens—an interpersonal dynamic captured wholly in images, no need for dialogue). Narrative's the weakest element, but none of these films boasts especially strong character work, and all of them recycle standard romantic plotlines; the goal was just to keep things agreeably lively in between the obsessively rehearsed musical numbers that everyone came to see. Swing Time employs a particularly fun not-so-secret weapon early on, with Lucky's efforts to see more of Penny requiring him to feign being a novice dancer, thereby delaying our gratification (though Astaire is very briefly seen in action at the outset, just to make sure that nobody gets too impatient). Nearly half an hour goes by before the two stars properly kick up their heels, and waiting for Astaire to reveal his prowess oddly reminded me of waiting for Dougie to snap out of it and become Agent Cooper, though the anticipation here isn't as sadistically/playfully prolonged and has more of a traditional payoff. Also had forgotten that "The Way You Look Tonight"—one of the most achingly romantic melodies every composed—was introduced to the world via the man suddenly recoiling in horror at the way the woman he's serenading actually looks tonight. Now that's how it's done. 

Blackface, needless to say, is not how it's done (anymore). One can only be grateful that Stevens shoots the Bojangles tribute at a great enough distance from Astaire (in order to highlight the three giant shadows behind him) that his makeup isn't the focus. Still, these sequences are always hard to watch, no matter how willing one is to be forgiving of what a previous era perceived as unobjectionable. A less toxic example (but one that caught me off guard—"Bojangles of Harlem" I knew was coming) is the cop who dismisses Penny's complaint simply because Lucky is a nattily-dressed white dude. That probably seemed funny to me (as intended) when I first saw the film decades ago. Now I want to leap onscreen and file a lawsuit on her behalf, or at least knock Lucky's smug I'm-untouchable grin off of his face.

Other, much more minor complaints: (1) Georges Metaxa makes such a boring Baxter that it's hard to swallow Penny agreeing to marry him; (2) the movie really needed more Blore (but doesn't everything?); (3) no gambler, alive or dead, has ever been as lucky as Lucky. (Pop can obviously cheat at cards, but Lucky's consistent success at roulette appears to be legit.) Enough speed bumps there to make Swing Time "merely" a joy, and I expect to settle on Top Hat (also unseen by me for decades) as Fred and Ginger's best. But I've yet to have my first encounter with Carefree, Roberta or Flying Down to Rio. None of which is generally considered top-tier, admittedly...but then nobody else thinks Cassavetes peaked with Too Late Blues, either.