Tracking In The Rain

This was going to be an article about why Singing In The Rain is one of the great films in the history of cinema, inspired by…well, it happened to be on TV. In my research I found this article, an excerpt from Jeanine Basinger's 2019 book The Movie Musical reprinted in The Atlantic. Personally, I think she says it best. So if you really need to have explained why this film is No. 10 on the BFI's decennial Greatest Films of All Time list, or No. 5 on the AFI's 100 Greatest American Films of All Time list, or on countless other cineastic "best of" lists, go read Basinger's article.

But…

Before you rush off, I want to bring to your attention to the film's unseen dancer, the invisible ballet going on during the entire film. While everyone is crying with laughter during O'Connor's flying, wire-fu-less Make 'Em Laugh (or whenever Jean Hagen as Lina Lamont opens her mouth), while the trio of Kelly, O'Connor and little Debbie Reynolds (who'd never danced in a movie before!) "effortlessly" tap-dance their way across the apartment and furniture in Good Morning and especially while Kelly effectively does the decathalon dancing without breaking a sweat in Broadway Melody, there is always the unseen dance partner, gliding, swaying and following the stars every shimmy.

Next time you watch Singing In The Rain pay close attention to ace director of photography Harold Rosson's gliding co-star camera work throughout and think about all the crane and dolly shot choreography that went into every one of the unforgettable musical numbers and the straight comedic or dramatic scenes. We are so normally wowed by Kelly and co-director Stanley Donen's choreography, the main cast's fabulous performances, or just the fact that it really is a funny romantic comedy, that we're unaware of Rosson's swooping, spinning and sliding camera is just as lithe as any dancer in the film. But as we say in VFX: if you can see my work, I didn't do my job properly.

_{Image: Photoplay, 1934, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons}