A MUSICAL FROM 1933

After several years as the hottest musical director on Broadway, Bob Fosse made his film directorial debut with this movie version of his Broadway hit, which was based on Fellini's Nights of Cabiria. Shirley MacLaine is terrific as the proverbial hooker with the heart of gold, one who is convinced that she will find the right man if she just turns enough tricks. The Cy Coleman score is a solid one; the film is at its best when Fosse lets his cast of singer-dancers (which includes Chita Rivera, Paula Kelly, and Sammy Davis Jr) unleash his leggy brand of choreography. While the film suffers from stylistic excesses of the period, you can see the seeds being planted for Fosse's future musical film forays in Cabaret and All That Jazz. -Marshall Fine.

An expanded and more polished version of Lord of the Dance, Feet of Flames was recorded at an outdoor performance in London's Hyde Park. While much of the material is familiar to Flatley fans, the production is superior in every way. It's better photographed and the editing is less frenetic. The individual segments are sharper, more self-assured, as is Flatley, who also produced and directed this version. (He also demonstrates his talents as a flutist-maybe he should call himself Lord of the Renaissance. ) The outdoor setting also makes the show feel less like a Vegas act, though the proceedings have about as much relation to their Celtic folk roots as the Broadway musical Cats has to the TS Eliot children's poems on which it was based. -Richard Natale.

James Stewart, at his warmest and most avuncular, plays the bandleader who rocketed to fame during the swing era. The Glenn Miller Story may be a whitewashed version of Miller's life but it certainly is a pleasant example of the feel-good Hollywood biopic, with the usual conventions: early struggles, loyal wife (June Allyson at her chirpiest), personal sacrifice-Miller joins the Army when war breaks out, although he doesn't have to-and ultimate tragedy. All the Glenn Miller classics filling the soundtrack make the film pretty easy to take, too: "Moonlight Serenade," "A String of Pearls," "Chattanooga Choo-Choo. " Miller plays the great "In the Mood" with his military band during a World War II air-raid warning. Pure corn, but it works. Director Anthony Mann, better known for his superb series of hard-bitten fifties westerns with Stewart, keeps the story moving gently and gracefully. A hot jazz interlude features Louis Armstrong and Gene Krupa. -Robert Horton, Amazon. com.

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, starring MGM soprano Jane Powell and handsome baritone Howard Keel, has retained a remarkably loyal following among fans of the musical film ever since its release in 1954. Although it was filmed in state-of-the-art CinemaScope, Stanley Donen was obliged to direct much of the film on Metro's sound stages, where the artificial sets and painted backdrops don't inevitably live up to the scenes shot on location in Oregon. Viewers coming fresh to the picture may find this visual discrepancy jarring and some too may find Miss Powell's singing a shade plummy. The screenplay, by husband and wife team Albert Hackett and Frances Goodrich with Dorothy Kingsley, tells the story of seven brothers living in the Oregon hills and their adventures to find themselves wives. The casting of each brother with his rugged, masculine looks and ability to dance with grace and athleticism, presided over by an authoritative Howard Keel, gives the film a dynamic impetus second to none in an MGM musical. The lengthy barn-raising episode under choreographer Michael Kidd's intrepid direction, where the music and the incredibly agile and energetic male and female dance ensemble unite as one, produces a square dance without parallel. The music and lyrics by Gene De Paul and Johnny Mercer-including the mating chorus, "Spring, Spring, Spring", the rollicking "Bless You're Beautiful Hide", the rousing "Sobbin' Women" and the visually enchanting "June Bride"-are both tuneful and mindful of the plot's exposition. Adolph Deutsch and Saul Chaplin won the Academy Award in 1954 for their arrangements and conducting. On the DVD: The digital remastering has created a clearer picture of what had been a faintly muddy Ansco colour system on the original print while the polish and attack with which the MGM Studio Orchestra play the music on this full-bodied stereophonic soundtrack remains a thing of wonder. Howard Keel, standing tall and erect in his 80s, hosts the "making of" documentary. [+]

Adapted from the long-running stage version, this big-screen Chicago is a non-stop singing and dancing extravaganza that may well herald the welcome revival of the film musical. When the part-time lover of wannabe star Roxie (Renee Zellweger) is murdered, she is banged up with Chicago's most famous singing murderess, Velma (Catherine Zeta-Jones). They compete for the attention of the best lawyer in town, Billy Flynn (Richard Gere). Drawn to the special angle of Roxie's case (the sweetest killer to hit Chicago), Flynn offers her a taste of stardom and her daydreams of singing on stage are juxtaposed with the action. Chicago has transferred well to film, seamlessly merging Dennis Potter-esque dream sequences with the action. Though the stage show uses sets sparingly, here the look has been heavily influenced by the only successful musical of recent times, Moulin Rouge, with heavy velvets and drapery offering a rich feel to the murky underworld of 1920s Chicago clubs. The hot question is: can the movie stars cut it as performers? Surprisingly, it is Zellweger who looks most comfortable in the part, regardless of her awkward dancing. Zeta-Jones is just that little bit too butch to be believable as a flapper girl, despite her stage school roots, and lacks a certain panache. But one thing is in her favour: she's believable as the ultimate starlet bitch. Gere does not fare much better, with his tap-dancing sequence littered with cutaways (mercifully his dancing and singing is kept to a minimum). [+]