TOP HAT - DVD review

Fred and Ginger. I daresay there isn't a person alive reading this review (except those readers who have been known to expire before the end of my first paragraphs) who doesn't recognize the names of the most-famous dance duo in movie history. And I don't mean Fred Rogers and Ginger Snap.

Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers made ten films together, starting with "Flying Down to Rio" in 1933 and continuing through "The Barkleys of Broadway" in 1949. Many of the stars' fans consider their 1935 release "Top Hat" the best of the lot. If it isn't, it's certainly high on the list.

Given the two incandescent leads, plus lyrics and music by Irving Berlin, direction by Mark Sandrich (who also did Fred and Ginger's "The Gay Divorcee," "Follow the Fleet," "Shall We Dance," and "Carefree"), and a lavish production by Pandro S. Berman, how could the film lose?

There is practically no plot to speak of, which is all to the good because we don't have anything to interfere with our enjoyment of the music and dancing. Astaire plays Jerry Travers, an American song-and-dance man brought to London by a big-time impresario, Horace Hardwick (Edward Everett Horton), to star in one of his shows. Rogers plays Dale Tremont, a young fashion model Jerry meets his first night in town and with whom he instantly falls in love. But trouble develops when Dale mistakenly assumes that Jerry is Horace, a married man. So as Jerry is doing his best to pursue Dale, Dale is doing her best to avoid a guy she thinks is a cad. This mistaken identity gambit was pretty old even when Astaire and Rogers did it, and it continues to be a staple of romantic comedies to this day. It goes on for most of the movie and proves a cute if slim excuse for developing the storyline's meager conflict.

The film is episodic, each small segment falling neatly into place, making it easy for the WB transfer engineers to decide on where to place their chapter stops. This tidy little arrangement of episodes provides the film a relaxed, unpretentious mood where the stars and the music are all that matter.

In the supporting cast are the aforementioned Horton, always playing the befuddled straight man; Eric Blore as Bates, Hardwick's fussy, formal valet, endlessly speaking of himself in the plural but always there to lend his employer a helping hand; Erik Rhodes as Albert Beddini, Dale's business partner and ardent admirer, a rich, conceited Italian fashion designer who wants desperately to marry the lady; and Helen Broderick as Madge Hardwick, the producer's long-suffering wife.

None of these people make much of an impression next to Astaire, though. It's his show through and through. The man must have been born with dancing shoes on. Even when he's surrounded by a chorus of dancers, we hardly notice them, out attention riveted on Astaire. He doesn't walk; he glides. Besides, the camera loves him. He was never movie-star handsome, yet his charismatic presence permeates every scene.

The music is ceaselessly delightful, and thanks to Astaire it sometimes springs out of nowhere. Astaire is liable to break out into song and dance at any given moment, such as the time he's in his friend Hardwick's apartment simply talking to him and is suddenly given over to a fit of singing and dancing. Astaire is a marvel; it goes without saying. Moreover, the periodically clever cinematography matches the always clever dance moves, yet neither the photography nor the dancing is ever anything but graceful and natural. Mostly, it's Astaire in long or medium shots, sometimes filmed in a mirror or from an acute angle, doing what he does best.

Surprisingly, Astaire and Rogers don't have their first dance together until well into the picture, about a half an hour in, but when it comes, it's all the more charming for our having to wait. The dance is set during a rainy day in the park, the couple dancing on a small, covered bandstand or pavilion to the tune of "Isn't This a Lovely Day." It is a lovely routine, even if it ends quite abruptly. Earlier, Astaire had a chance to sing "No Strings" ("Fancy Free"), and after these pieces there are the showstopping "Top Hat, White Tie, and Tails," a big production number; "Dancing Cheek to Cheek," the highlight of the movie for me (and for just about everyone else in the world); and a big finale, "The Piccolino," a kind of Busby Berkeley production with the camera often pointing down from on high as the dancers implement a kaleidoscope performance. Still, it's Fred and Ginger who stand out even here, dancing in the center of the ballroom and commanding our attention every second.

"Top Hat" features glittering high-society backdrops, luxury art-deco suites, and opulent sets that must have seemed like another world entirely to the Depression-era audiences who first saw the movie. The marvel is that even after seventy years, the same elements delight us all over again. Good songs, good dancing, and good stars never go out of style.

Trivia, courtesy of John Eastman, "Retakes: Behind the Scenes of 500 Classic Movies," Ballantine Books, New York, 1989: "A legendary blowup occurred on the set of this film between the normally even-tempered costars. Rogers had insisted on wearing a long-feathered 'dream dress' for the couple's 'Cheek to Cheek' number. During rehearsals, Astaire grew increasingly irritated with the swirls of ostrich feathers that blinded him and made him sneeze. He finally declared an ultimatum: no dream dress. The episode brought Rogers's combative mother, Lela Rogers, storming onto the set, ready for battle. After a day of stalemate, Astaire compromised by allowing Rogers to wear the costume if the designer would sew each feather separately into place--and that's the gown we see Rogers wearing (not without an occasional floating feather). Astaire soon made peace with his costar and playfully nicknamed her Feathers; but from that point on, he made sure that his contracts gave him final approval rights over his partners' costumes."

Video:
I have no idea how the folks at Warner Bros. manage to keep so many of their old films in such good condition, but "Top Hat" is no exception. I'm sure it's a combination of storing away some very good prints in the vaults and then doing some touching up in the video transfers to erase minor blemishes. The studio would probably find it cost prohibitive to do complete restorations for all the old films they transfer to disc; nevertheless, their work remains top-notch.

"Top Hat" exhibits very few signs of wear or age: no major scratches, lines, smudges, flecks, or spots. About the only distracting elements in the picture are the periodic patches of grain we see, especially in outdoor stock footage, and the inevitable consequences of wear at the ends of reels. Black-and-white contrasts show up well for a film of this vintage, with black tuxedos and top hats looking particularly elegant.

Audio:
As usual, WB have processed the sound in Dolby Digital 1.0 monaural, and while it may not be state-of-the-art by today's standards, it does its job reproducing music, songs, and dialogue. The audio engineers appear to have applied a discreet amount of noise reduction to make most scenes as quiet as possible, leaving only a small, residual background hiss in a number of places. The generally quiet background is especially helpful during the opening sequence in a staid men's club where silence is the rule. Needless to say, there is little in the way of deep bass, sparkling highs, or wide dynamics involved in the sound, yet the midrange is quite clean and clear.

Extras:
The disc's primary bonus item is an audio commentary with Fred Astaire's daughter Ava Astaire McKenzie and film dance historian Larry Billman. I appreciated Ms. McKenzie's reflections about her father, even though they were not always as numerous or as insight as I might have wished; and I can understand Mr. Billman's notes being rather sparse, since the movie is pretty simple and straightforward, and there's not a lot one can really say about it. Thus, we get a fairly plain and sometimes overly obvious commentary by two people who do not always seem completely comfortable behind a microphone. But they give it their all, like the troopers in so many of Astaire's films.

In addition, there is an exceptionally well made, eighteen-minute featurette, "On Top: Inside the Success of Top Hat," that provides a wealth of information about the movie from a host of experts on the subject; a 1935, eighteen-minute comedy short, "Watch the Birdie," with Bob Hope, that is little more than a shipboard monologue but cute; and a classic Warner Bros. cartoon, "Page Miss Glory." The extras conclude with twenty-eight scene selections, but, as is WB's custom, no chapter insert; a theatrical trailer; English as the only available spoken language; and English, French, and Spanish subtitles.

Parting Thoughts:
Thanks to the effervescent nature of the songs and dances and, of course, the vivacious nature of the film's two stars, "Top Hat" goes by quickly, its 100 minutes seeming a lot shorter when you're having a good time.

Of the ten films Astaire and Rogers made together, Warner Bros. have issued five of them simultaneously on DVD: "Top Hat" (1935), "Swing Time" (1936), "Follow the Fleet" (1936), "Shall We Dance" (1937), and "The Barkleys of Broadway" (1949). They're all treats.