Music: Irving Berlin, Max Steiner Cinematography: David Abel
Starring: Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, Edward Everett Horton and Helen Broderick
Essentially a talkie with tunes, the plot is a simple one of mistaken identity, with Astaire wooing Rogers before she accidentally confuses him for his manager and thinks he’s already married. As a result, the whole thing comes off like a G-rated episode of Three’s Company. But the more modern references don’t stop there. Astaire’s big dance number with his cane and top hat has the unfortunate side effect of bringing to mind Gene Wilder and Peter Boyle in Young Frankenstein. And to make matters worse, it ends with him “shooting” every member of the male chorus line in a way that seems in bad taste today. Add to that a set of Venice that looks like the interior of It’s A Small World, and the effect is more jarring for modern audiences than the fantasy it would have evoked for those in the depression era. In looking at the ratings on IMDb, it’s clear that there’s no consensus as to which Astaire-Rogers film is the favorite of fans. The top four are bunched relatively close in the ratings race with Top Hat barely edging out Swing Time, The Gay Divorcee, and Shall We Dance (all four of which are neatly gathered on a Turner Classics DVD collection). So it really comes down to a choice of personal preference for music, plot, and character. My favorite is The Gay Divorcee.
One of the issues with all of the Astaire-Rogers films, including Top Hat, is that the plots never really seem to go anywhere. The same formula is always used and it tends to wear thin fairly quickly into the picture. Astaire’s unflappable arrogance comes off as annoying rather than charming. And Roger’s indignation tends to feel forced and unconvincing. Of course there has to be a rival for Rogers’ affections that Astaire must overcome, typically a bombastic ethnic European, in this case the cartoon-like Erik Rhodes. Even Edward Everett Horton doesn’t get very upset over anything, a sure sign that something is terribly wrong. That said, however, Horton's performance is one of the high points in the film, certainly much better than that of Victor Moore, Astaire’s sidekick in Swing Time from the following year. The other great character actor in the film is the wonderfully sardonic Helen Broderick as Horton’s wife. Eric Blore also does a tremendous job as Horton’s uncooperative manservant.
In her review of Top Hat for The A List, Carrie Rickey acknowledges Astaire’s revolutionary insistence on shooting the couple’s dance sequences in one take, rather than cutting in and out, which is very impressive for the time. She also rightly assesses the importance of Irving Berlin’s songs in the success of the film, as well as conceding the artificiality of the sets and the vibrancy the two leads bring to the story when juxtaposed against them. Then Rickey tries to take a thematic approach to the film, something I normally like. She first attempts to portray the couple as independent entertainers mingling with the rich but not of the rich, but Astaire is as tied down to his manager’s needs as Rogers is to her designer boss. They both threaten to quit, but it never happens. Then she tacks to bring in weather as a metaphor, but with the mostly stage-bound sets, that doesn’t quite ring true, either. Still, Top Hat is, in Rickey’s words, the most iconic of the couple’s nine films together. The dancing of the duo is pretty terrific and worthy of a viewing just to see what all the fuss was about.