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This chapter begins with the tap challenge between the Nicholas Brothers in the 1940 musical Down Argentine Way. This three-and-a-half minute jazz-tap routine captured the spirit, tempo, and wildly infectious energy of swing. As dance music, swing had a flowing, streamlined 4/4 beat, which made for a smooth sound. For jazz tap dancers, the steady beat was the base on which one could multiply time and syncopate smooth propulsions, which gave the impression of the beat speeding ahead. The chapter looks at the inflections of swing in the tap dancing of, among others, the Condos Brothers, Ann Miller, Mable Lee, and Eleanor Powell; and at its varying degrees of influence on such Irish American tap dancers as James Cagney, Ray Bolger, George Murphy, Donald O’Connor, and Gene Kelly, whose heritage in Irish-stepping styles had been integrated into a modern American style of jazz dancing.

Maura Keefe argues that choreographers in the United States have very often drawn inspiration and themes from the world of sports, leaning especially on the image of the male athlete as a key iconic representative of masculinity. The relationship between homophobia and both real and perceived notions of “masculine” physical prowess is highlighted in analysis of Vaslav Nijinsky's ballet Jeux (1913), Ted Shawn's Olympiad (1936), Gene Kelly's television special Dancing—a Man's Game (1958), and Twyla Tharp's Dancing Is a Man's Sport, Too (1980). Concluding that the anxiety over male dancers and effeminacy is far from being overcome, the chapter ends with an analysis of reaction to the participation of football icon Emmitt Smith on the reality television series Dancing with the Stars.

Whatever instigated the ugly argument that sealed his fate with Warner Brothers mattered little to Buzz now. The trades in May revealed that Esther Williams was named by MGM to play the leading role in its newest film, Take Me Out to the Ball Game, which was to begin filming the following month. Arthur Freed was the producer of Take Me Out to the Ball Game. Despite the fallout suffered during Girl Crazy, Buzz contacted Freed and told him he wanted to direct again. After getting the approval of his old boss, Loius B. Mayer, Buzz directed Take Me Out to the Ball Game. In October 1948, Buzz was arrested on suspicion of drunk driving. After a few months of inactivity, Buzz was focused on two fronts: bringing Annie Get Your Gun to the screen and the troubled Judy Garland into the fold. Both tasks were unsuccessful.

In musical theater criticism, dance is too often considered secondary to the total effect of a show. In Pal Joey, dance did much more than tell a story—it viscerally engaged the audience; dynamized the space of the stage, the theater, and the diegetic world of the musical; and, quite literally, stopped the show. Without choreographer Robert Alton and the original Joey, Gene Kelly, Pal Joey might well have been unpalatable to audiences. Dance saved the show from the danger of being too “straight” in regard to book, and too unpleasant in regard to character and situation. But because of the lack of dance criticism during the period, many critics, and subsequently historians, have focused almost solely on the music and the book to explain its success and influence. This chapter will attempt to give dance its due in regard to the legacy of Pal Joey.

In 1949 Betty Comden and Adolph Green discovered that MGM finally wanted to move forward with a screen version of On the Town. Before it could go in front of cameras, though, there were obstacles to overcome, particularly the fact that the studio only wanted to use a few of the original songs that they had written with their friend Leonard Bernstein. Eventually all parties were able to negotiate terms, and Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen, making their debuts as co-directors and co-choreographers, were able to start work on the project, which starred, in addition to Kelly, Frank Sinatra, Ann Miller, Vera-Ellen, and Betty Garrett. After they completed work on this screenplay, they attempted to pen a book for the Cole Porter musical Out of This World.

This chapter presents a thorough examination of the production and reception of the Joseph Pasternak-Judy Garland-Gene Kelly film Summer Stock (1950). Topics include: Garland’s mounting personal problems and their impact on filming, plus the creation of one of her signature numbers, “Get Happy.” In addition, this chapter includes detailed analysis for other key Walters-directed musical sequences.

The second chapter on refractions of the golden age of heroes examines the roller-disco cult classic Xanadu (1980), in which the kiss of a Muse inspires a frustrated commercial artist to save America from its late-1970s “iron age” by rejecting his corporate job and founding a socially inclusive nightclub. Safran explores how this project’s utopian potential becomes subsumed by contemporary nostalgia for America’s post-World War II prosperity and the “golden age” of the Hollywood studio system, signalled by quoting the filmography of Xanadu’s venerable co-star Gene Kelly. His particular brand of on-screen masculinity echoes ancient homosociality associated with the Hesiodic all-male golden age, the end of which is associated with the invention of women—much as Xanadu’s homosocial mentoring relationship is disrupted by the Muse. The young protagonist’s impossible romance with the goddess risks degrading his masculinity in light of her divinity, until the film refigures her as a prisoner of the divine realm and him as modern Orpheus who breaks into that realm to plead for his beloved’s return. His success not only bests his classical model but also recuperates him as a man, an artist, and a self-employed small business owner.

Betty Comden and Adolph Green, after finishing work on the screenplay for Good News, began work on their third Broadway musical. It became Bonanza Bound, and the tuner, a comedy set in the 1890s in Alaska, closed during its tryout engagement in Philadelphia. Though critics were chilly toward this show, there were warm notices for the film. It prompted MGM to offer them work on two more movies, and Comden and Green returned to Hollywood to work on the Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers picture The Barkleys of Broadway and Take Me Out to the Ball Game, which starred Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra.

After a false start on one project for MGM (which did ultimately resurface for them a few years later), Comden and Green discovered that Gene Kelly loved an idea they had had for a follow-up to the stage musical On the Town, and that scenario (about three guys reuniting ten years after their service together in World War II) became the basis for their newest film. With music by André Previn, the movie, It’s Always Fair Weather, starred Kelly, along with Dan Dailey and Michael Kidd. Before they completed work on the screenplay a call from Jerome Robbins had them at work on their next stage project; they contributed additional songs to the new version of Peter Pan he was staging. It was the classic that starred Mary Martin.

Chapter 11 presents a comprehensive look at the creation and reception of Irving Berlin’s Easter Parade (1948). Key points include Walters’ role as film director and partial choreographer (joined by Robert Alton), his participation in the improvement of the screenplay, and his run-ins with producer Arthur Freed. Also discussed: Gene’s Kelly’s injury that resulted in Fred Astaire’s return to screen, Judy Garland’s mounting personal problems, and the necessity for her to simultaneously complete re-takes on Vincente Minnelli’s The Pirate.

Betty Comden and Adolph Green received a summons in May 1949 to California from MGM producer Arthur Freed about a movie he needed them to start writing immediately. The project, which would become Singin’ in the Rain, would contain a host of the songs he had written with Nacio Herb Brown. They balked at the assignment, believing their contract did not require them to pen movies that used songs by other writers (except for a handful, such as Richard Rodgers or Cole Porter). Their agreement with the studio contained no such clause, and so they developed the now iconic scenario about the transition from silent movies to talkies and early movie musicals. After they finished this assignment they returned to New York to write sketches and lyrics for the revue Two on the Aisle, which starred Bert Lahr and Dolores Gray.

Chapter ten begins with the early development and production of Paint Your Wagon, Paramount’s expensive treatment of a 1951 Lerner and Loewe Broadway musical. It would be loosely adapted for the screen, produced by Alan Jay Lerner and directed by Joshua (Camelot) Logan. Despite singing demands, three non-musical stars were cast: Lee Marvin, Clint Eastwood, and Jean Seberg. Producers faced the logistical challenge of building a full-sized town that had to collapse on cue as part of the movie’s rousing finale. Location shooting in rural Oregon proved to be costly, contentious, and prolonged. Fox’s Hello, Dolly! faced its own problems with two stars (Barbra Streisand and Walter Matthau) who detested each other. Turf wars broke out between costumer, choreographer, and set designer, with director Gene Kelly unable to successfully mediate. It was, by all accounts, a rancorous shoot, complicated by the logistically hellish “Before the Parade Passes By” magnum production number.

This chapter provides an examination of the believability factor, as related to song in film and, in particular, that troublesome, pivotal moment when talking might turn into song and/or dance. It takes a look at the films and performers who could facilitate such a shift: Maurice Chevalier, with his direct address to the film audience, Janet Gaynor, with her straight-on sincerity. The chapter describes the awkwardness of Cecil B. DeMille’s Madam Satan, the smoothness of Fred Astaire, and the dynamism of Gene Kelly’s dance with himself in Cover Girl. Also, the chapter considers the naturalistic use of song Meet Me in St. Louis and Woody Allen’s enthusiastic tribute to that pivot moment, Everyone Says I Love You.

Betty Comden and Adolph Green suddenly found themselves thrust into the limelight in New York in 1939 when they formed, with Judy Holliday and two other friends, a sketch-comedy group named the Revuers. They performed initially at the Village Vanguard, and strong critical response meant that they were soon performing in larger and more upscale venues, such as the Rainbow Room and Carnegie Hall. The group’s rise to the top seemed to be assured when they got a offer to appear in a movie, but it fell through shortly after they traveled to California. Undaunted, they secured another project, but their work in that ended on the cutting room floor. As 1944 wound down Comden and Green returned to New York, wondering what would come next.

In this chapter, Walters stars in the long-running Rodgers and Hart musical, I Married an Angel; he maintains a friendship with co-star Audrey Christie and works with George Balanchine. Walters then opens in the Cole Porter hit musical Du Barry Was a Lady and introduces “Well, Did You Evah? (What a Swell Party This Is);” discussion of his professional relationship with Betty Grable is explored. The chapter also discusses the early stage career of Gene Kelly, as Walters loses the lead in Pal Joey to Kelly. Walters provides choreography for Broadway’s Sing Out the News and stages an amateur production for the Triangle Club at Princeton University.

This chapter finishes 20th Century-Fox’s participation in roadshow musicals. After Doctor Dolittle and Star!, the studio was nervous about their colossal Hello, Dolly! being prepared for release in late 1969. With expense overruns and a delayed release due to the continued success of the stage production, it was increasingly unlikely to earn a profit. Dolly! did not receive critical approval, but it premiered to strong business. As with the other post-Sound of Music roadshow musicals at Fox, it lost money, while the “youthquake” was drawn to low budget films such as Easy Rider and M*A*S*H. Studio chief Darryl Zanuck was pressured to fire his son Richard. He did so, and then was gently eased out of responsibilities by the studio’s board of trustees. The future of the studio was uncertain, but it would not include any more roadshow musicals.