Fashions change. If you only thought so once, you'd know it after seeing this. Let's be frank, honest and earnest: it's a totally unco-ordinated weird and utterly ghastly mess. I amazed myself by sitting through the whole thing from beginning to end. I'm certainly not going to do so again. But I may, nevertheless, pick out all the bits with delightful, adorable, heart-warming Ginger, who is just the most wonderful gal that ever was. She always makes me feel good within seconds of her appearance. Astaire would be much, much less without her. Not that anyone would admit it. I had to look up Irene Dunne on Wikipedia, and was stunned at the career she'd had. Almost as stunned as to discover that she'd had any career at all. The clothes in the fashion parades were slightly astonishing, I'll give them that. I expect to see some of them next season, worn by Gaga, however, or Bonkers, or someone similar. Just a word on the story: perfectly and completely idiotic. Dialogue script and acting: wooden and dreadful. Direction: which way did it go? Rogers and Astaire? Heroic. Great, against all odds. Roberta? Flag Hippo?
