All Singing! All Dancing! All Broadway!

For reasons too complicated (and too sad) to go into here, movies based on Broadway musicals — and, for that matter, movie musicals of all types — have been out of fashion for decades, with some notable exceptions including the oddball Moulin Rouge. The paradox is that, while audiences seem to have difficulty accepting new films in this genre, the best of Hollywood musicals remain extremely popular on home video and in revival houses. When a movie like The Sound of Music makes its DVD debut, or when Film Forum screens Kiss Me, Kate in 3-D, people pounce.

Depending on the film you’re watching, it’s easy to hate and/or to love movie musicals. If you’ve suffered through the Hollywood travesties that bear the titles A Chorus Line or Annie, for example, you’re probably willing to testify that there’s nothing more cringe-inducing than a lousy film adaptation of a Broadway tuner — and you’ll get no argument from this corner. Of course, the opposite is just as true: There’s nothing more transcendent than a wonderfully cast, intelligently filmed movie version of a great stage musical.

Here, in no particular order, is one devotee’s list of the ten best films in this beloved genre, followed by some runners-up and some ruminations. A special salute to the artists who made contributions to two or more of the films on the following list: director Robert Wise, musical director Ray Heindorf, conductor John Green, choreographer Onna White, singer/actress Shirley Jones, and vocal double par excellence Marni Nixon.

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West Side Story (1961)
A Best Picture Oscar Winner, co-directed by Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins (though the latter was fired early on), this magnificent adaptation actually makes more dramatic sense than the Broadway version; every last song from the original was retained, but screenwriter Ernest Lehman reordered some of the numbers to create a line of dramatic tension that rises more continually and effectively. It’s true that, whenever someone sings solo in this movie, you’re almost always hearing someone else’s voice. But the dubbing is very well done, the gorgeous Bernstein-Sondheim score is beautifully conducted by John Green…and the dancing is thrilling beyond description. Natalie Wood is so beautiful as Maria — especially when partnered with Marni Nixon’s singing voice — that continued debates over her acting ability seem superfluous. And there is perfect casting in several minor roles: Ned Glass as Doc, Simon Oakland as Lt. Schrank, etc. Magic Moments: The “Dance at the Gym” sequence, a combination of superb choreography and brilliant editing that’s bound to get your pulse racing; and the “Tonight” quintet — skillfully arranged, beautifully sung, expertly filmed.

The Sound of Music (1965)
It’s hard to believe, after WSS, that Robert Wise could top himself in the Broadway-musical-into-film genre. But that’s exactly what he did, at least in terms of The Sound of Music‘s box office figures. Another terrific screenplay by Ernest Lehman, one that definitely improves on the book of the Broadway show by Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse, provided a solid foundation for Wise and company to build upon. Julie Andrews is luminous as Maria, the would-be nun turned mother of seven, and the rest of the cast — including Christopher Plummer, Peggy Wood, Eleanor Parker, Richard Haydn, and Portia Nelson — is equally perfect. (Any movie that can present a bunch of nuns in full drag singing a sprightly, rhythmic up-tune without causing the audience to laugh derisively must be doing something right.) The opening sequence of this multiple Oscar-winning Best Picture of 1965 is unforgettable: an aerial mini-travelogue of lush Austrian scenery capped by that stunning moment when the camera swoops over the mountains and down into a meadow as the orchestra builds to a crescendo and Miss Julie launches into Rodgers & Hammerstein’s title song. Breathtaking!

Oklahoma! (1955)
Inexplicably, this film of another great R&H tuner has something of a bad rep, but don’t you believe the naysayers. It’s fabulous. Shirley Jones, barely legal, is gorgeous as Laurey; Gordon MacRae might have been born to play Curly; and Rod Steiger (recently deceased) fully humanized the character of Jud Fry long before Shuler Hensley was credited with doing so in the Cameron Mackintosh/Trevor Nunn/Susan Stroman production. Fred Zinneman handles the musical film genre with aplomb and finesse. Add delighful turns by Gloria Grahame (Ado Annie), Gene Nelson (Will Parker), Charlotte Greenwood (Aunt Eller), and others, not to mention spectacular Todd-AO photography and state-of-the-art recording of the score, and you have a winner. Even the extended dream ballet, the one section of the picture that doesn’t really work as film, is invaluable as a document of Agnes de Mille’s choreography for this groundbreaking sequence. (Note: There are actually two versions of Oklahoma!, one in Todd-AO and one in Cinemascope, featuring different takes of every scene and musical number; though the Todd-AO version is technically superior, some of us feel that the timing and energy of the performances is better in the CinemaScope version. But it’s academic, as only the Todd-AO is currently available on home video.)

My Fair Lady (1964)
Another Best Picture, according to the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, this one has several strikes against it. As was his wont, director George Cukor paces the film in a slow, stately, some might say lethargic way. Though Audrey Hepburn brings her own special magic to the role of Eliza Doolittle, she was a little too old for the part and almost all of her singing was dubbed by Marni Nixon, without great success in this case. Still, the Alan Jay Lerner-Frederick Loewe score and Lerner’s screenplay, based closely on his book for the Broadway show, are so excellent — and so respectfully treated — that the film is laudable on that basis alone. When the pacing does start to drag, you can feast your eyes on the gorgeous production and costume designs of Cecil Beaton. And we should all be thankful that the performances of Rex Harrison and Stanley Holloway, who respectively created the roles of Henry Higgins and Alfred P. Doolittle in My Fair Lady on Broadway, were preserved in such a loverly frame. (Harrison won a Tony Award for his Broadway Higgins and an Oscar for his work in the film.)

Cabaret (1972)
It’s interesting that two musicals involving Nazism — however different in terms of tone and style — should have a place in the top drawer of filmdom. Jay Presson Allen provided a screenplay that is quite different from Joe Masteroff’s book for the Broadway show but equally effective on its own terms. Bob Fosse, who made a valiant stab at film musicals a few years earlier with Sweet Charity but couldn’t quite solve the genre’s stylistic challenges at that time, here is in full control. The film won several Oscars and almost certainly would have been named Best Picture if it hadn’t been up against The Godfather. The performances of Liza Minnelli as Sally Bowles and Joel Grey as the fiendish Emcee are indelible, and there is also remarkable work from Michael York, Marisa Berenson, and Helmut Griem.

1776 (1972)
Though some observers feel that this movie is not especially impressive from a purely filmic standpoint, that’s far from the truth. First-time film director Peter H. Hunt, who had helmed 1776 on Broadway, does a far better job than any number of Hollywood veterans might have done in translating this gem of a musical to the screen. Many members of the original Broadway cast — including stars William Daniels, Howard da Silva, Ken Howard, and the late Virginia Vestoff — winningly recreate their roles here, and the newcomers (e.g., Blythe Danner as Martha Jefferson and Stephen Nathan as the Courier) are equally wonderful. Peter Stone’s screenplay is an almost word-for-word transfer of his deservedly lauded book for the stage production, and Sherman Edwards’ music and lyrics are given equally respectful treatment. (The production number “Cool, Cool, Considerate Men,” cut from the movie before its theatrical release, has been restored for the DVD edition.) Musical direction by Ray Heindorf, choreography by Onna White.

Hair (1979)
This Milos Forman film wasn’t anywhere near as popular as it should have been when released, probably because a lot of people in 1979 didn’t think they wanted to see a movie musical about hippies and the Vietnam War. That’s a shame, because the movie is brilliant. Michael Weller wove almost all of the MacDermot-Ragni-Rado songs for the show (“Aquarius,” “Let the Sunshine In,” “Easy to be Hard,” etc.) into his screenplay and somehow managed to give each of them a convincing dramatic context, in contrast to the atrocious book of the stage production. There are amazing performances by two leading actors whose film careers were ultimately disappointing: Treat Williams and John Savage. Like 1776, this is a case where all of the lead actors do their own singing, and it helps keep the film honest. A breathtaking moment comes when Beverly D’Angelo as Sheila — who has not sung a note for the first three-quarters of the movie — suddenly locks into “Good Morning, Starshine” while riding in a convertible on a gorgeous day, with the wind whipping through her hair and the other main characters joyfully singing backup. The “Black Boys/White Boys” sequence (featuring Nell Carter and Laurie Beechman, among others) is hilarious, and Cheryl Barnes’ rendition of “Easy to be Hard” is so good that it’s not to be believed. Ultimate proof that this flick brought out the best in everyone: Even choreographer Twyla Tharp did great work here!

The Music Man (1962)
There are weird stories about all sorts of actors being approached to play Harold Hill in Warner Bros. film version of this Meredith Willson treat. Thankfully, Warners decided to accept no substitutes and go with the original: the dynamic Robert Preston. Also repeating her role from the original Broadway cast is Pert Kelton as Mrs. Paroo. And though it would have been nice to see Barbara Cook’s Marian the Librarian on film, Shirley Jones is so fine and so lovely in the part that it’s hard to object to her casting. A very young Ron Howard is tremendously appealing as Winthrop, and Hermione Gingold is a scream as Mrs. Shinn (“our mayor’s wife”). Musical/choreographic highlights include “Shipoopi” and, of course, “76 Trombones”. Please note that this is another Ray Heindorf-Onna White movie, directed with flair by Morton DaCosta (who also gave us Auntie Mame).

Oliver! (1968)
Lionel Bart’s Oliver! originated in London rather than on Broadway. In fact, it was one of very few British musicals of its time to gain success in America. But the film version is such a triumph (it’s another Oscar winner for Best Picture) that it merits inclusion on this list. The movie was directed by Carol Reed, another great artist not known for musicals. The gargantuan production numbers “Consider Yourself” and “Who Will Buy?” — choreographed by the marvelous, ubiquitous Onna White — are balanced by wonderfully intimate moments involving Mark Lester as Oliver, Jack Wild as the Artful Dodger, Ron Moody as Fagin, Shani Wallis as Nancy, and Oliver Reed as Bill Sikes. The best 25 seconds of the film come at the climax of “Consider Yourself,” when the camera pulls back to show a street scene packed with what looks like half the population of London, everyone singing lustily and dancing in perfect step to welcome the orphan Oliver to the city.

The King and I (1956)
Yul Brynner was reputed to have been extremely difficult, but most of the millions of people who’ve thrilled to the movie of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s The King and I didn’t have to deal with him on a personal or professional level; they only have to enjoy his reimagination for film of his Broadway performance as the volatile but essentially good-hearted King of Siam. (Along with Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady, Brynner belongs to that elite group of performers who won Tonys and Oscars for the same role.) Deborah Kerr is such perfect casting as Anna Leonowens that the ghosting of her singing is entirely forgivable — and, at any rate, the ghosting is so well done by Marni Nixon that it’s scarcely an issue. A measure of this film’s excellence is the fact that most people are also willing to forgive the excision of three major songs from the Broadway score: “My Lord and Master,” “Shall I Tell You What I Think of You?” and the gorgeous “I Have Dreamed.” Yes, it’s a pity not to have these numbers included in the movie, but what’s there is choice. And the sets and costumes are to die for.

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Runners up: Fiddler on the Roof, Funny Girl, Show Boat (1936 and 1951), Kiss Me, Kate, Call Me Madam, Bye, Bye Birdie, The Pajama Game, Carmen Jones, Little Shop of Horrors, Sweet Charity, Gypsy, Flower Drum Song, Evita, Jesus Christ Superstar, and Godspell. It’s interesting to note that several of the films cited among our Top Ten and our runners-up were directed by men who had no prior experience with film or stage musicals — men such as Robert Wise, Carol Reed, Fred Zinneman, Milos Forman, and William Wyler. Ironically, Joshua Logan — who had previously directed musicals on Broadway as well as some major non-musical films — was responsible for three of the worst stage-to-screen tuners of all time: South Pacific, Camelot, and Paint Your Wagon.

We’re often told that the era of the movie musical ended because we live in a time of literal mindedness — a time when a large percentage of the audience refuses to buy into the genre’s unique modes of expression. Strange that so many people are disturbed by someone bursting into song on screen because “it’s not realistic” but they have no such response when an action film hero sustains an injury that would certainly have killed him in real life, then jumps to his feet in perfect physical condition. Would that the public at large could so readily accept the conventions of the film musical genre, as folks did in the past with little or no apparent struggle.

You may have heard the excellent buzz surrounding the upcoming film of Kander & Ebb’s Chicago, directed by Rob Marshall and starring Renée Zellweger, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Richard Gere. Here’s hoping that Chicago will be a monster hit; that the stage versions of The Producers and Hairspray will receive worthy screen adaptations; and that Steven Spielberg and Martin Scorsese will each fulfill his expressed desire to direct a movie musical. If all of this happens, we may see the renaissance of one of the most completely satisfying art forms in history.