Director Stanley Donen brings his signature breeze to this weightless musical. It’s on my shortlist of great 1950s Technicolor eye-zingers, full of reds brighter than candy apples, electric greens and positively edible pinks and blues (the Blu-ray is a knockout). It’s got the perfect setting for a film that’s all about lush surfaces: the fashion world. Fred Astaire is the top photographer for Kay Thompson’s New York City women’s style magazine. In the middle of an assignment, he discovers a mousy and matchstick-bodied Audrey Hepburn working in a book shop and, despite resistance from both her and the magazine, has a vision for her as the world’s next big model. Yes, this is one of those movies that tells us that a beautiful woman is plain and frumpy simply by putting her in drab outfits. You just have to go with it. While you’re getting over that, also keep an open mind about the romance between the 58 year old Astaire and the 28 year old Hepburn. It blossoms when the film moves to Paris for a fashion shoot and Astaire has to coax Hepburn away from philosophy lectures in smokey beatnik clubs to comic effect. In his defense, Astaire is still a charmer on screen and is ageless while singing Gershwin tunes and dancing.
We all should have been dancers. Apparently, that’s how you stay in shape in your later years. But we DIDN’T become dancers. We fucked up.