American expatriate painter Jerry Mulligan (Gene Kelly) is picked up by a wealthy divorcée (Nina Foch). She becomes his patron, with an eye to becoming his lover, but he falls for Lise (Leslie Caron), an anonymous young shop girl. However, she has a secret: She’s engaged to a successful singer (Georges Guétary) who also happens to be a friend of Jerry’s.
An American in Paris is…well…nice. It is very pretty, with lots of bright, primary colors. There are some good songs, some decent performances, and a boy-meets-girl plot that is comfortable. Yup, this is a nice film. Nice. Hardly the accolades that should shower down upon an Academy Award winner, and one of the few musicals to ever get that honor. But then the real best picture each year is rarely given the Oscar. In 1951, a little flick called The African Queen wasn’t even nominated. Oh well.
This is Kelly’s movie. He wasn’t the type to fade into the background, and he’s front and center here. His voice is pleasant, but it’s his dancing that is special—really any movement. He could make walking down the street a thing of beauty, or in this case, getting out of bed, with a kick here and a turn there. But a majority of his dances in An American in Paris are forgettable. They are demonstrations of his substantial skill, but nothing you’ll be clamoring to see a second time.
The story is less forgettable than annoying, and the characters lean toward the latter. Jerry is dim and rude. His patron is overly aggressive and a one-note character. Lise is hardly developed, and the singer-friend is the generic older-French-guy that was popular in ’50s cinema. Since the humor never works, and the melodrama is forced, I didn’t care who got together with whom. But then, neither did the filmmakers. The story is just a frame to hang songs on. The big plot complications aren’t even dealt with, but ignored in favor of a musical number.
As for those songs (I’m talking about the ones with lyrics here), there are no problems with George and Ira Gershwin’s compositions, but the delivery leaves something to be desired. The lack of a single female singer is part of the problem. A bigger one is the filmmaker’s goal of being cute. “I Got Rhythm” is wasted by tossing in young kids to yell out “I’ve got!” at the start of each line. This is a great American song, but only when it is actually sung.
So far, my comments don’t sound like the movie even deserves the mild praise of “nice,” but then I haven’t mentioned the dreams. There are two fantasy segments, both of which can be thought of as separate short films (they have little connection to the rest of the movie) and both of which are wonderful.
The first has pianist and actor Oscar Lavant dreaming of performing Gershwin’s “Concerto in F for Piano and Orchestra.” His character is a concert pianist, which is of no importance to anyone. In the dream, he is the conductor as well as all of the members of the orchestra. It’s a lovely bit of semi-humorous surrealism, provided you like the music.
The second is the climax of the film: an eighteen minute ballet. It is Kelly and Caron at their finest, surrounded by themes from important paintings. The music is perhaps the greatest American symphonic work, the choreography is exciting, and there’s more emotion shown by the swaying bodies than in the rest of the movie.
The DVD format is perfect for An American in Paris. You can toss on the disk and skip straight to the two scenes worth repeating.
The following year, Kelly would star in the infinitely better Singing in the Rain. It would not even be nominated in the best film category.
My other reviews of musicals including Gene Kelly: Cover Girl (1944), Anchors Aweigh (1945), Ziegfeld Follies (1946), The Pirate (1948), Words and Music (1948), On the Town (1949), Summer Stock (1950), Brigadoon (1954), It’s Always Fair Weather (1955), Les Girls (1957), The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967).