After an unfortunate, approximately month-long hiatus from any sort of substantive writing (thank you, real world), what better way to ease back in than with the delightful graces and croonings of the sublimely enchanting Fred Astaire? Fortunately for me, Time Warner On Demand is blasting a nice portion of his 30′s output, so I settled back to enjoy a well-known classic (Shall We Dance?), and two of the canon’s less publicized works, The Gay Divorcee and The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle. And, as is wont to happen in situations like these, I found myself enjoying the latter duo a good bit more than their more popular counterpart (I think Swing Time is still my favorite Astaire-and-Ginger-Rogers vessel, though). Let’s start with the constants throughout—Astaire is just a joy to watch. Few things are more pleasing in life than watching a master of a craft at the top of their game, and Astaire at his peak certainly fits the bill. His movements go well beyond graceful…they’re intoxicating. And not only are his dance moves extraordinary, but he’s a damn good actor too: funny and sharp (reminiscent of Nick Charles in The Thin Man series at times), but also endearing and emotionally convincing. I’m not sure we’ll ever see another actor quite like him: I certainly can’t think of an appropriate contemporary comparison. Then there are his regular supporting players. As Astaire’s regular dance partner—and usual love interest—Ginger Rogers is quite good, attractive, smooth…but she never quite seems Astaire’s equal. Of course, Astaire is usually the one doing the leading, both in acting and on stage, but Rogers tends to play feisty characters who could benefit from a smidge more range than Rogers tends to provide. Edward Everett Horton, on the other hand, regularly shines in an array of roles as Astaire’s lovably bumbling companion, be it old friend, lawyer, or business associate. His schtick can occasionally wear thin (most notably in Top Hat), but his facial tics and enunciations are normally spot-on, and he has first-rate chemistry with Astaire: it feels like the two have known each other forever (and, in a manner of speaking, I suppose they have). While Horton isn’t in every single Astaire picture, he’s not far from it, and Rogers, of course, never leaves his side.

All three films covered in this review boast excellent screenplays and lots to enjoy, but Mark Sandrich’s The Gay Divorcee offers the best mix of wit, humor, and, of course, song-and-dance. Centered on a complicated divorce scheme with lots of twists and kooky connections, it’s boosted immensely by the presence of Erik Rhodes as Rodolfo Tonetti, a professional correspondent hired by those wishing to feign infidelity. His interactions with Astaire, who plays the smitten Guy Holden, are priceless: there are several knee-slapping laugh-out-loud moments that go beyond the usual chuckles you might get from Astaire’s canon. There’s a breezy flow to The Gay Divorcee that gets appropriately emotional when the moment calls for it. On the other hand, Shall We Dance?, also directed by Sandrich, lacks the same airiness and light-heartedness of The Gay Divorcee, which was made three years earlier. It’s about innuendo and devious plots (though, of course, the stories are always essentially backdrops to showcasing the Astaire-and-Rogers show), and while it has plenty of amusing moments and some good musical numbers, it feels stiff at times, without a Rhodes-sort to break things up. It’s a fine film, but I’d rank it ahead of only Top Hat out of the Astaire pictures I’ve seen thusfar.

As for The Story of Vernone and Irene Castle, the aforementioned backdrop isn’t necessary here: Astaire and Rogers play the title characters, who were world-renowned ballroom dancers before World War I. It’s not exactly a stretch for them, but they do the old rags-to-riches angle seamlessly, and the finale is surprisingly touching. Horton doesn’t appear here, but Walter Brennan effortlessly fills that void. One could certainly argue that the structure is a bit formulaic, but when it’s executed as well as here—strong writing, strong acting, strong pacing—I can live with the progression of events being somewhat by-the-numbers. It seems to be a fairly underseen film, and fans of Astaire and Rogers should absolutely seek it out. It’s a key addition to a filmography that has lots to cherish, and hasn’t been tarnished by time at all. On the contrary, Astaire’s uniqueness as an American icon has only been more solidly entrenched.

The Gay Divorcee: 75/100

The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle: 68/100

Shall We Dance?: 60/100