MGM made available for the production of its 1952 movie Singin’ in the Rain the full catalog of songs that Nacio Herb Brown and Arthur Freed had written for MGM movie musicals of decades earlier. Now that Arthur Freed was a musicals producer at MGM and specifically the producer of Singin’ in the Rain, he was happy to comply.
Two songs were written specifically for Singin’ in the Rain: “Make ’em Laugh” and “Moses.” The remainder had been used in earlier musicals. Surprisingly, not all of them were from the period that the movie takes place (1927-29). Some were first made public as late as 1935.
For the film’s original screenplay about the production of a fictional studio’s first sound movie at a time when the means of making sound movies were unknown to virtually everyone in Hollywood, the writers evoked characteristics of movie personalities who had been part of the silence-to-sound transition. Thus, exuberant young Zelda comes across as Clara Bow or Nancy Carroll (both Paramount stars). The snooty, cold star seen at the premiere and the Hollywood party might have been based on popular conceptions MGM’s own Garbo or the self-employed Gloria Swanson. Don Lockwood (played by Gene Kelly) enacts an episode associated (reputedly falsely) with John Gilbert (the “I love you, I love you, I love you” dialogue has long been said to be what Gilbert said onscreen to the detrimental on his career). Lena Lamont’s struggle with her voice once sound threatened to expose her lack of worldly sophistication, mirrors such women stars as Clara Bow (possessor of a thick Brooklyn accent) and Natalie Talmadge (who quit movies without a screen test).
When a plot twist in Singin’ in the Rain has the viewer being told that The Jazz Singer has proven to be a financial windfall — contrary to the expectation of the studio head who had said of Warner Brothers “they’ll lose their shirt” — the producer making the Don Lockwood-Lena Lamont movies decides to immediately turn the stars’ currently-in-production silent film “into a talkie.” This quick turnaround does not reflect the reality of 1927 movie production. Although most studios probably envied the success of the Warners and sought to duplicate their financial returns, none sought to glut the market with talking movies when most theaters were still equipped for only silent films. Fox had already issued sound-on-film short subjects when The Jazz Singer opened as the first feature-length film with human voice. (Warner Bros. had beaten Fox to market with the sound shorts, but not by enough of a margin so that Fox’s first sound shorts couldn’t be issued before Warners had a feature film. Warner’s premiere program of shorts was first shown exactly fourteen months prior to The Jazz Singer, on August 6, 1926.) The four major studios other than Fox and Warners took a “wait and see” approach. Fearing that competitive pressures would propel some to succomb to unnecessary financial risks, the owners of these studios entered a pact wherein they agreed that for one year none of them would make talking movies unless they all did.
Singin’ in the Rain does correctly reflect that once the studios other than Warners and Fox did commit to talking movies, they did retrofit the silent movies already in production to be exhibited as talking pictures. Paramount had already made The Canary Murder Case as a silent, but they brought the actors into dubbing stages to record their dialogue to match their mouth movements. William Powell was adept at this, but most of his fellow cast members performed unconvincing lip synchronization. Harold Lloyd had the advantage of having had lengthy visual comedy sequences in his current production (fittingly titled Welcome Danger, an expression that captures the industry’s attitude toward spoken words); he could leave this footage alone, merely adding sound effects. The dialogue sequences he reshot with sound did not represent a considerable expenditure, one more than offset by fantastically high box-office receipts.
Dubbing of one actress’s voice for another is a central activity in the storyline. From watching Donald O’Connor “become brilliant” (his character’s words) in a key scene, one would think that the idea of one performer mouthing to the voice of another came about after sound movies were already a commercial reality. This is an inaccurate reflection of screen history. The Donald O’Connor character has seen The Jazz Singer (the 1927 feature-length film with which Warner Brothers and star Al Jolson proved that audiences wanted talking pictures) — O’Connor satirically mimics Jolson’s singing of “Mammy” to convey his acceptance of the popular notion that talking pictures were a fad. If O’Connor has seen The Jazz Singer, he has seen lip-synching. Thus, when O’Connor later in the story has the inspiration to have the Debbie Reynolds character provide the voice for the Jean Hagen character, he merely is applying the solution he would have been blind not to have noticed.
(No, it was not Jolson who lip-synched. Instead, Warner Oland — the actor playing Jolson’s father in The Jazz Singer — could not augment his skilled acting of his dramatic role with the solemn rendition of sacred Jewish music called for by the story. A professional performer of such music was hired, and he sang offscreen as Warner Oland watched him to know when to move his mouth. This occurs in the first scene of the movie. It’s an incredible statement about film history that the first use of lip-synching in a feature-length talking film occurred before the first instance of honestly-presented voice synchronization in that same milestone film. This fact does resolve one issue: there can never be any debate or doubt about what was the first occurrence of lip-synching in a feature-length sound film: you can’t get any earlier than the first scene of that history.)
When Singin’ in the Rain shows the use of recordings being used by a performer who is to lip-synch to a performance that has already been committed to media — as opposed to the actor lip-synching to a singer who is live on the set, as in the scene immediately following the “Good Morning” number — the 1952 musical is adapting a process that was first used anywhere on an MGM production on a Nacio Herb Brown-Arthur Freed song. When the song “The Wedding of the Painted Doll” was filmed for the 1929 production Broadway Melody, the scene was filmed as were all musical numbers: all talent who would be seen or heard by audiences were assembled on the set and one time and their collective performance was recorded as though it were a stage presentation. The technical staff achieved a good recording of the music and lyrics (the musicians, though out of camera range, were performing as filming occurred), but the picture quality wasn’t suitable for presentation to paying audiences. That this scene was shot in Technicolor (the majority of the picture was in black-and-white) complicated matters. Most personnel involved in the production planned to shoot the scene again as it had been before, but studio chief of production Irving Thalberg realized that money could be saved and difficulties averted by having only the picture portion of the scene re-done, matching the new performance to the existing recording. Soon thereafter, such practices became commonplace. (If you should see Broadway Melody today, you’ll see “The Wedding of the Painted Doll” number in black-and-white. The color film has decomposed. A black-and-white reference print is all that has survived of this scene.)
“The Wedding of the Painted Doll” is recognized by Singin’ in the Rain; the song is heard briefly in the movie, as part of the montage depicted the great flurry of activity in making musicals during the early months of sound films. (The passage used of “The Wedding of the Painted Doll” in Singin’ in the Rain has the lyrics, “It’s a holiday today, today, ta da ta da ta da.”)
The song “Singin’ in the Rain” dates to the 1929 plotless musical film Hollywood Revue of 1929. The makers apparently realized they had a hit with the song: it’s used five times! (It’s the only song under the opening credits, then sung by Cliff Edwards a little more than mid-way. A chorus sings it shortly thereafter. A brief snippet of the song is incorporated into a female trio number; finally, most of the cast sings it in the finale. (This segment was filmed in color, and this time the color footage survives.)
Broadway Melody was a pivotal MGM musical. Made when that studio and several others were inexperienced with the sound equipment they were suddenly acquiring, it has the awkwardness of novelty but the sincerity of talented lead actors who brought to the screen authentic performances that are the stronger for having been filmed in scenes with little interruption for the camera changing its vantage points. Scenes tended to be shot in single long takes, so an actor’s performance could be calibrated to evolve as it would on a stage.
Broadway Melody would be honored with the Academy Award for Best Picture of the 1928-29 season, and lead actress Bessie Love earned a deserved nomination. This movie would supply Singin’ in the Rain with the songs “You Were Meant for Me” and the movie’s title tune. (The most lavish number in Singin’ in the Rain would be the one Gene Kelly’s character outlines in a meeting with his studio head, the “Broadway Melody” production.)
Other songs reused in Singin’ in the Rain were “Beautiful Girl” (from Going Hollywood, 1933), “You are my Lucky Star,” “I’ve got a Feeling You’re Fooling” and “All I Do Is Dream Of You” (all from Broadway Melody of 1936, 1935).