esrosedotblog

I have waited and waited to see this movie because I didn't want to spoil it by repetition.

Maybe I needn't have worried but if waiting improved the experience, so be it.

Meet Me In St. Louis (1944)

Vincent Minnelli's masterpiece of a musical with Judy Garland and Tom Drake. Mary Astor and Leon Ames. Harry Davenport and Marjorie Main. Margaret Obrien, soon to be a big child star. She is my age exactly 1937.

At least five hit songs.

And beautifully restored. I was shocked when it came on, so gloriously rendered.

The music is not the usual "tunnel" sound, the echo chamber. They even fixed the lip synching. Flawless.

I laughed, I cried, I sang along.

It has been 70 years since this film was made and it was worth every one of them to appreciate what can be done with a little talent and a good score.

I may just watch it again in 70 years. Or sooner. A 5 out of Netflix5.

It should be said that I am not an uncritical admirer of Judy Garland. Often people think if you are gay you are a Judy fan. No.

I did have and replayed the Carnegie Hall concert record quite a few times. It was a real crowd pleaser. But her life and art went to hell and that is not to be admired.

She had a great gift and she threw it away. And I am not saying that to condemn. I share a lot of her experience. But the sad fact is that, at a certain point, her work was not admirable so much as a melancholy reminder of the ravages of the addictions to which she fell victim and the disease in no way contributed to her artistry or her personality. In spite of. She has endured and in this film we can relish the young talent that thrilled and engaged us so totally.

She is older and more adept than in the Oz thing. She has learned to love the camera and to adore her audience. She is there in full force and the cast supports every single move.

Labels: films