Imagine my disappointment when I found out that “An American in Paris” is, in fact, not the Paris Hilton sex tape.
Bad jokes aside, I have been on a tremendous George Gershwin kick lately, thanks in large part to the new Brian Wilson album. What better time for a movie based on his work to pop up on the list?
To illustrate the diversity of the social and cultural landscape of Paris we are introduced to three different protagonists, who narrate their own back-story and their relationship with the TRUE protagonist of the film; the city of Paris. There is Jerry, an aspiring painter and former US Army infantryman played by Gene Kelly (which means that you know his character is going to spontaneously and inexplicably break into dance at unusual times). We see the modest but not deplorable conditions of his small apartment in a scene where he takes a table out of his bedside closest in order to eat his breakfast. Gene Kelly does an exceptional job of illustrating both the carefree nature of Jerry as well as turning this simple routine into a small dance number conducted in a very tiny space.
Next up is Adam, a far more cynical picture of the starving artist- another American transplant he is in Paris on scholarships working towards being a concert pianist. The two live in the same apartment building and form a bond of friendship based on their mutual American-ness. The dynamic of the two characters provides a perfect “odd-couple” scenario and it is a shame that the film doesn’t include more interaction between the two.
” I'm a concert pianist. That's a pretentious way of saying I'm unemployed” (Jerry Cook, “An American in Paris”)
Rounding out the three male leads is a successful French musician who is older and wiser than the two American bohemians. As is the case with every early American film depicting a Frenchman, his name is Henri. He is slightly self-conscious about his age and enjoys the company Adam, probably because it helps him feel younger but also because he is a very generous soul and enjoys helping him out financially.
On this particular morning Henri is telling Jerry and Adam about his young fiancé Lise. Though she is not present at the time, Lise is the character who is given the most back-story, though it is not 100% accurate. Henri describes the different facets of her personality as she is shown performing interpretive dances to coincide with each of her aspects. The various characterizations of her not only seem to contradict each other but also come across as idealized. This tool is very effective in showing the borderline absurd level of perfection a person truly in love projects on the object of their affection.
Jerry sets off for his day’s work- attempting to hock his good-but-not-great paintings on the street. A young art student critiques his work while passing by. His response, while at first seemingly understandable gives the clear indication that he is probably in the wrong business given that he doesn’t respond well to criticism and appears to have a very thin skin. However he seems understanding of his limitations when talking about his work in a very self-deprecating way when he is approached by a wealthy American woman (significantly named Milo- “as in Venus De”) who buys two of his paintings, representing his first professional sale.
Milo very openly begins to pursue Jerry, who is leery of her advances and takes offense to what he assumes is her feigned interest in his work. As it turns out, Milo does have a history of “sponsoring” hopeful artists and is seemingly something of a groupie disguised as an aficionado. Her too-good-to-refuse offers of introducing him to several bigwigs in both the art and journalism communities of Paris compels Jerry to go on a quasi-date with Milo to a nightclub where he spots and subsequently falls in love at first sight with Lise, completely unaware that she is the same fiancé his friend Henri has told him about.
A love-triangle-plus-one (a love square? Diamond?) ensues, with Milo trying to break down Jerry, Jerry trying to break down Lise and Henri being blissfully ignorant to Lise’s inexplicable willingness to cheat on him with Jerry. On their first “date” Jerry and Lise establish a secluded trysting place- a riverbank. There is a very artistic fog rising off the river, blending with the overhead streetlamps which seemingly implies the presence of light (love) amidst a dark fog (emotional uncertainty). It also gives off a sort of yin-yang vibe as not only do the two share happy times there, but later sad when Lise later confesses her engagement.
Jerry explains his situation to the always-pessimistic Adam, who initially teases Jerry about his status as a glorified gigolo but also seems to encourage him to go with the “sure thing” of security with Milo. A dream-sequence sort of scenario then plays itself out where Adam fantasizes about achieving his own aims. He imagines himself as a pianist in a massive concert hall; he is then shown to be the conductor, every musician in the orchestra and the audience as well. This scene is not only cinematically impressive but also shows that, in spite of his trademark glass-half empty attitude, Adam is still very much an optimistic dreamer who refuses to make his goals any less lofty. It is a shame that this piece doesn’t appear earlier in the film, as it seems incredibly out of place in the middle of the film and is clearly just meant to give the character more onscreen time in order to make sure the audience doesn’t forget his presence.
The inevitable moment where all four of the people involved in the love-cube (I’m sticking with that) wind up in the same room occurs at a climactic party sequence. Jerry is now showering Milo with attention as he is on the rebound from having been rejected by Lise, who is also in attendance with Henri. Despite the film’s earlier style of being an oversaturated Technicolor masturbationfest the party scene is dark and is clearly meant to reflect the mood that Henri, Lise, Milo and Jerry will all eventually experience. Milo first when she finally learns the truth about Jerry and his love for Lise, then Jerry and Lise as they share an emotional goodbye/breakup on the balcony and finally Henri, who overhears their whole admission.
The climactic finale depicts Jerry performing the various cycles of human emotion with a full-scale ballet in the background. The production is of course stunning and lavish, but to the point of obnoxiousness as it becomes clear the director has put all his eggs in this basket. The ballet section drags on laboriously and while Gene Kelly does things most people can only dream of over the course of it, the scene itself suffers from over-opulence and packs WAY too much forced symbolism into a small frame, none more glaringly obvious than the separating and re-joining of one of Jerry’s sketches that has been ripped up and blows carelessly about the stage.
Upon completion of the ballet, Jerry is shown standing conspicuously alone atop a stairway as Lise suddenly comes running up to him. The reunion of the two is swirled in a string arrangement of Gershwin’s “An American in Paris.” The main problem with this ending is that, for at least 50% of the characters involved this is not just an unhappy ending, but a devastating one, though all of the classic symptoms of a fairytale ending are present.
Despite all of the bad things I can say about this movie, it is not by any means bad. I can find no fault in the production quality itself and DEFINITELY none in the music. Many of my favorite Gershwin pieces appear in the film (“I Got Rhythm,” “S’Wonderful” and “Love is Here to Stay” to name a few). What really prevents “An American in Paris” from knocking it clean out of the park is simply the fact that Hollywood had not yet mastered the art of a musical film. There are lengthy periods with no song-and-dance numbers and points where so many are crammed together in a row that they are not able to stand on their own.
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