Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly were indeed titans of their era in the world of dance and movie musicals. Their styles were distinct yet equally captivating, each leaving an indelible mark on the history of dance and film.
Fred Astaire’s elegance and precision in movement are often cited as unparalleled. His ability to glide effortlessly across the dance floor, coupled with his trademark leg slide, epitomized grace and sophistication. His collaborations with Ginger Rogers at RKO during the 1930s not only produced box office hits but also contributed significantly to the popularity of movie musicals.
On the other hand, Gene Kelly brought a more athletic and physical approach to dance. His performances were characterized by energy, athleticism, and a dynamic stage presence. Films like “Singin’ in the Rain” and “An American in Paris” showcased his versatility and innovation in choreography, earning him widespread acclaim and cementing his legacy as one of the greatest dancers in Hollywood history.
The debate between Astaire and Kelly often comes down to personal preference. Some admire Astaire’s finesse and style, while others appreciate Kelly’s athleticism and charisma. Both dancers left an enduring impact on the art of dance and continue to inspire performers to this day.
As for the question of who was the better dancer, it ultimately boils down to individual taste and admiration for their respective styles. Both Astaire and Kelly were masters of their craft, and their contributions to the world of dance and entertainment are undeniable.
Does it seem familiar? It should. It heavily influenced the choreography, design and look of Michael Jackson’s Smooth Criminal video, one of the most famous music videos of modern times.
Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think Don Lockwood features prominently in any iconic music videos from the 1980s.
So Fred Astaire was the more interesting dancer, and the influence of his films is still reflected even in contemporary pop culture to a greater degree (in my opinion) than Gene Kelly’s. But I also have a soft spot, personally, for the guy and his films.
In the mid-2000s I had finished my degree at UCLA and was working in commercial real estate in Los Angeles. The job was a dead-end, soul-destroying kind of affair – so pretty typical for a 20-year-old with a BA in English Literature. (Here’s a bit of advice for you kids out there thinking about doing a BA in English at UCLA: employers don’t give a shit about Chaucer!). To make the most of my time, I decided that I would work there for a few years and save money so I could travel the world (this plan ended up working out pretty much exactly as designed). And in the meantime, I would focus my energy on learning as much as I could – about films, literature, history.
That is how I first got turned onto cinema – I was desperate to distract myself from how much I hated my job, so I sought solace in the pursuit of knowledge. This was back when Netflix delivered DVDs via mail, and they had a HUGE library, so when I got to the part in film history about RKO and the MGM musicals, I was able to rent them off Netflix and have them delivered to the house. I had first seen Singin’ in the Rain during a film class at UCLA and I remember thinking it was…. quaint. It’s a fun little musical, and an interesting slice of film history, but it’s not gonna knock your socks off. But when The Barkleys of Broadway arrived in the mail, it was revelatory.
The Barkleys of Broadway was Fred and Ginger’s only non-RKO film, and it was the last film they starred in together. It was also the only color film they appeared in together. It was produced by Freed at MGM in 1949, and it was a big deal because it reunited Fred and Ginger after a decade apart. A lot of the music was from Ira Gershwin, and Oscar Levant plays a prominent supporting role. Levant was a super weird and super interesting character. He was a classically trained pianist and a hypochondriac and during the film he randomly busts out virtuoso numbers on the piano like Sabre Dance and Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No 1. The film is wild and weird and features some stunning Technicolor dance numbers from Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers who had not lost a step since their RKO days. It blew me away.
I started going through Astaire’s filmography, ordering films from Netflix and having them mailed to my grandma’s house so we could watch them together. She was slipping into early Alzheimer’s by then, but with dementia the first thing to go are the more recent memories. Older memories linger for much longer, and when she would see Fred Astaire bang out a flawless routine to an old Gershwin tune she would come alive. It gave me great joy to revisit that era in American cinema history, sitting on the couch with my grandmother who had borne witness to that very history as it was being made. So it’s not just that Fred Astaire is a great dancer, perhaps the greatest of all time. He’s a piece of history, and one that I could happily re-visit with my grandmother while she was still with us.
For a while it seemed like the musical was primed for a comeback. Chicago won Best Picture in 2002, and Moulin Rouge created quite a stir. Glee was very popular for a time on Fox. But they were all false starts, with many of the more famous titles being ruined by crap directors like Baz Luhrmann and Tom Hooper. Contemporary musicals are all about the flash and the sizzle, falling victim to the modern obsession with lots of edits and quick cuts and kinetic, frenzied camera movements. The true genius of a Fred Astaire film was that he was such a brilliant dancer, the camera could just roll on him as he performed a routine in a single, unbroken take. No cross-cutting or stylish camera angles. Just a supremely talented dancer floating across the dance floor while the camera captured it all. The talent on display was so pure, it required no camera trickery or additions. We’ve lost that kind of elemental approach to filmmaking in general, and doubly so in newer musicals.
The days of the MGM musicals are gone, and unlikely to be revived. And if Finian’s Rainbow is any indication, that might be for the best. But Fred Astaire will forever occupy a special place in the history of American cinema and dance, and in a smaller way in my personal history as his films and his movements delighted me, informed me and and provided me with an experience that I could share with my grandmother in the few years that she had left. And for those reasons, and more, we can definitively say that in the question of Fred Astaire vs Gene Kelly, old Twinkle Toes surely comes out on top.
