The Gay Divorcee is basically just a fancy excuse to watch people dance

Is it worth your time?

If you like old Hollywood musicals, you probably already know this one. If you’re allergic to black-and-white sets, tap shoes, or people breaking into song for no reason, stay far, far away. It’s pure fluff, but it’s the kind of high-quality fluff they just don't make anymore.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Gay Divorcee (1934) through its definitive frames.

Fred Astaire is basically a human metronome. Watching him move makes you feel like you’re doing something wrong with your own limbs.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Gay Divorcee (1934) through its definitive frames.

The plot is absolute nonsense, obviously. It hinges on a misunderstanding that could be cleared up in five seconds if anyone just talked to each other like a normal person. But then we wouldn’t get the ballroom scenes, so I guess we have to suffer through the silliness.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Gay Divorcee (1934) through its definitive frames.

The Good Stuff

• That big dance sequence at the end is like 17 minutes long. It’s indulgent, wild, and looks like it exhausted everyone involved.
• Eric Blore is in this. I love that guy. He plays the same jittery, nervous sidekick character he always plays, and it works every time.
• The sets are aggressively fancy. It’s like they spent the entire budget on white paint and shiny floors.

There’s a part where the movie tries to get a little bit serious, or at least as serious as a musical gets, and it just doesn't land. The tone shifts so fast it gives you whiplash. You’re watching these lighthearted shenanigans and suddenly someone is acting like their life is actually ruined. It’s a bit of a mood killer, honestly.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Gay Divorcee (1934) through its definitive frames.

It’s nowhere near as gritty as The Love of Jeanne Ney, but that’s a good thing here. Sometimes you don't want to think about the world falling apart. You just want to watch Ginger Rogers spin in a dress that looks like it’s made of whipped cream.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Gay Divorcee (1934) through its definitive frames.

I caught myself staring at the background extras in one scene. Half of them are just standing there, looking like they’re waiting for the craft services table to open. It’s kind of funny if you pay attention.

Also, the music is catchy, but it gets stuck in your head for days. I’ve been humming the same tune since yesterday morning and it’s starting to drive me a little bit crazy. 💃✨

It’s not a masterpiece. It’s not trying to solve the problems of the world. It’s just Fred and Ginger, and for a lot of people, that’s all that matters. Just don't ask me to explain how the divorce laws actually work in this movie, because I still don't have a clue.