Movie musicals taught me foreplay
My mother wouldn’t let me go to the roller rink on a friday night between the ages of ten and twelve. Instead of navigating the awkward social world of a small town roller rink where older guys preyed on young girls skating to Wilson Phillips and Roxette; I had lessons in how to be a complicated adult with desires, and a sense of rhythm. You can’t take a girl to the roller rink after that.
My Friday nights began with the accidental discovery that the local public television station played a mix of European art house cinema, and MGM musicals. The first thing I learned was that adulthood was made up of tension, and secrets. While there aren’t as many weekend house parties as french cinema claims; there are long silences, side-long glances, and people trying to choose between noble sacrifice, or giving in to almost painful ardor. From the Italians (and Fellini in particular) I learned that we can’t expect things to make complete sense, and while everything might fall apart we must get up and keep going. Always keep resilience and a pair of sunglasses in your pocket and something will happen.
Then there were the movie musicals. I studied to be a ballet dancer. We were always told that ballet was an excellent foundation. There I was learning to do grand jetés, a solid arabesque penchée, and focusing on my développé. I was going to be ready for the day when a man in perfectly fitted trousers and a tight shirt showed up in my life and I would be ready to follow his dance steps.
Friends and I have often joked that Gene Kelly ruined us in our youth. For we were turned on by the sensuality of the dancing, and then we came to find out that foreplay didn’t involve a wildly romantic dream ballet. (Patrick Swayze didn’t help things either. What if there is a man out there in the woods of the Catskills who can teach you to move to grace and sexiness?) But there were things I did learn by watching all of that dancing -and that was the details of human interaction. Watching the musical number, “From This Moment On” from the movie “Kiss Me Kate” showed me different kinds of flirting via the medium of dancing.
You have the flirting of movement between Ann Miller and Tommy Rall. Two in love characters who are familiar with each other. That couple who are engaged and want you to know how mad they are about each other. Their instagram comments to each other make others say, “#goals.” Then there is brief dancing between Bobby Van and Jeanne Coyne. Brief flirting over drinks at a party. Easy and no risk. They might make out later on the terrace or they might smile at each other as they say good night. Then there is the dance between Carol Haney and Bob Fosse. It is all risk and dare. You go beyond buying a drink or liking someone’s joke on twitter. It is two people who are luring each other out all while others are present to the chemical reaction. Let them watch. Let them gossip. Let’s match each other’s wit. Let my hand linger a little too long on your thigh. Lean in closer and feel their breath on your neck. Show everyone how it is done.
Once I was walking down the street and a man and I bumped into each other as it was very crowded. As I began to stumble he caught me and twirled me to keep gravity from having the upper hand. We held onto each other for a moment, stared at each other a little too long and smiled. His fingers stroking the inside of my wrist, I looked down at his fingers and I didn’t pull away my arm. The dare was in full mode. Sometimes the choreography helps you along. I looked him right in the eye and said, “Thank you sir.” He said, “Of course, Madam.” I remember my friend (who watched the whole scene) asked, “What the hell was that?” It was a moment.
And then there is something beyond a moment. There is Gene Kelly who will educate you about how people can respond to each other depending upon the tempo and the horn section. You mention the “Gotta Dance” sequence from “Singin’ In the Rain” and people will shout, “That dance scene!!!”
Kelly and Cyd Charisse experience each other in a speakeasy. I would argue that it is one of those rare moments in cinema where the male/female gaze coexist. The teasing pivots to provocation. Charisse is overtly sexual. Dominating him and trying to incite a response. Then it happens: a dance of absolute carnal hunger. Maybe the lighting and choreography will never be as smooth but it can happen. That kiss that turns into a second or third. You crave the taste and scent of the other person and it is a fervor that has you quickly entwined with them. Gene Kelly had codes to uphold but he explained very well to everyone what sex was and could be. But he didn’t stop there. The dream sequence then reveals another layer when that mysterious lady appears in white.
He is lost at the sight of her. The world disappears. They are stripped of their exact and stylized clothes, (she lacks shoes, her hair is loose. He is in simple black.) and they slowly come to each other. We lose the brassy jazzy edge and everything becomes soft and enormous. They aren’t always together but they are connected. You witness Gene Kelly’s vulnerability when he is with this woman. When two people are fearless in each other’s presence and falling for each other -the most exposed part of romance when you skip over the shyness or desire to be cool. It may not always continue but it is still magical and valuable. If you are lucky it might be repeated. I would encourage anyone to watch the fountain portion of the “American in Paris” dream ballet between Gene Kelly and Leslie Caron because we get two dancers equally providing tenderness and emotion.
It is sexy and beautiful to see intimacy expressed without any words. There is an enormous amount of strength in Gene Kelly’s vision of dance and emotion. I finally saw that he didn’t ruin us. He set exceptional standards before the viewing public. There may not be the technicolour dream, and trained dancers make everything look uncomplicated but Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse taught me a woman can be bold in her sexuality and it is a very healthy and attractive thing. MGM movie musicals showed me that sometimes we need to be a little wild with someone. And there are different ways to declare those secret feelings; and to leap in spite the shyness that can overtake us at times. I am still going to work on my extensions and turns because what if a guy in perfectly tailored trousers and a tight shirt is hanging out somewhere and he can do a whole tap-dancing ballet routine. I am not going to turn that down.
