frankie's guide to movie musicals

You know how exhausted we all feel by the CGI-heavy, clanging metal, explosions-for-everybody dude fests that seem to be the only films playing all the time at the cinema at the moment? Yeah. Well, believe it, or not (because I'm exaggerating), once upon a time people felt this way about musicals.

It wasn't because musicals were all about the world ending/the city being in danger and only (Adjective) Man could save us. It wasn't because musicals were CGI-heavy sausage sizzles whose only female characters existed to confirm the sexy, sexy, sexiness of the dude who was going to Save Us All. It was because, like the noisy, shiny, CGI films, musicals were about showing off a new technology. Sound. Because if you're going to hear something, you might as well sing it, right?

RIGHT. Those three decades between the 1930s and 1960s were the heyday of the musical, and thousands upon thousands upon thousands were made. You practically couldn't move for all the musicals. They were clogging drains. They piled in the streets. Vets euthanised them. In Hollywood, 56 people were killed in the Great Musical Disaster of 1947, when a discarded pile of song sheets crushed them in the street.*

* I made this up.

The gist of what I'm saying is this: musicals were popular. They were fashionable. They were everywhere, and then, faster than you can say "Maria von Trapp", they weren't. People's tastes are fickle, you see.

My tastes aren't fickle!* They are deeply and passionately entwined with the movie musical and all it represents: music, types of music, volumes of music. To demonstrate my quite profound love and affection for the musical, I would like to share some of my favourites with you. I hope you like them too.

* I made this up.

Singin' in the Rain

It seems fitting that the Greatest Movie Musical Ever Made (I'm not making this up, it's on the DVD) is about all the things I was just yammering about: the invention of sound and the way it changed Hollywood filmmaking forever. Singin' in the Rain is all about Don Lockwood (Gene Kelly), whose handsomeness has made him a silent film star and one half of a pretend power couple with co-star Lina Lamont (Jean Hagen). The power couple thing is all orchestrated by the studio to increase their popularity, but Lina kinda, sorta wants to believe it. Everything is going so smoothly with their real careers and fake romance, until sound is invented and they both have adjust to the new demands of noise and pictures at the same time. Don, handsome Don, whose voice lends itself to these new-fangled "talking pictures" adjusts relatively well to their new demands, but Lina, annoying Lina, sounds like a talking kazoo. Drama! Tension! How will this resolve itself?

You'll have to watch the film! And I haven't even mentioned half of it: there's a lady who jumps out of the cake and a musical number that sees Don's best friend run up a wall and do a backflip. It's all totally rad. Five stars! Five cakes! Five backflips up the wall!

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

There was a time, when I was feeling especially sad, when I would come home and put Gentlemen Prefer Blondes on to cheer myself up. It worked every time. It is like Prozac, but through the eyes and with sequins. I love Gentlemen Prefer Blondes for many reasons. Mostly, it's because the friendship between Dorothy (Jane Russell) and Lorelei (Marilyn Monroe) is just so loyal and supportive and wonderful that I just want to time travel to the 1950s, put on one of those weird, triangle-boob bras and become friends with them too. Dorothy and Lorelei are best friends in the way best friends should be: they work together, socialise together and aren't afraid to offer each other some blunt advice: "Dorothy, please, a lady never admits her feet hurt," Lorelei, bona fide lady, says. Dorothy and Lorelei work as entertainers, who sing and dance on the stage, but they have a lot to offer that goes beyond their excellent dresses, co-ordinated dance moves and songs about diamonds. They're just tip-top, talented and clued-in ladies. They're awesome. They're elevating, affirming and mood enhancing. So I love them.

The Sound of Music

Every now and then I like to think about how ridiculous The Sound of Music is. Firstly, it's a musical about Nazis. Secondly, it's about a nun called Maria who likes to spin around on the Alps, which she mistakenly thinks are "hills". Thirdly, it has characters called "The Captain" and "The Baroness" and everyone is totally cool with this. Fourthly, the Captain has seven children and he doesn't high five anyone to acknowledge his fertility during the whole film ever. Finally, when it comes to the last scene, all of these things become significant: the Captain, Maria and his seven children escape the Nazis, whose car won't start because it's been sabotaged by nuns. They hike over the Alps to sweet, Swiss freedom, but fail to high five each other when they make it. Ridiculous! But I still love The Sound of Music. I think it's because I've seen it so many times it's just become a part of who I am. Lyrics to songs exist in a part of my brain where they, unlike the names of old friends, are never forgotten. I can recite and re-enact the entire Lonely Goatherd scene in my sleep. I know how to spell Edelweiss solely because of the efforts of Rodgers and Hammerstein. So, if I gently ridicule The Sound of Music for being a little bit lame, then I must acknowledge that I too am a little bit lame. And I am. Yay lame! Yay me! Yay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo!

Phantom of the Paradise

I wanted to end on something a bit strange and I think I have. I haven't seen Phantom of the Paradise. In fact, I have only recently heard about its existence. Then I watched the trailer and the following things happened: it was weird, the word "BEEF" flashed up on screen, and a man with grillz wore a helmet that obscured half his face. I became slightly confused and frightened. Let's watch this one together, friends! If there's anything I like better than musicals, it's a weird musical that's described as a mixture of "The Phantom of the Opera, The Picture of Dorian Gray and Faust".