Gene Kelly: The Charming Maestro of Movement

Gene Kelly is rightly credited with bringing a massive and much needed dose of vitality, masculinity and athleticism to American dance. The reason for this achievement was simple--Kelly, who died last week at the age of 83, had the common sense to realize the plain fact that there is honor in showing work, in dropping the pretense of effortlessness. His grace as an actor also made it play, but it was his instinct that dance is work that allowed him to cheerfully locate frivolous movement in real places, such as the boatyards of Manhattan. He was at home in a world that understands physical toil.

Anchored in this real and natural milieu, grounded in his own sense of what he did best, and also knowing show biz so well, Kelly could let the imagination fly. He accomplished some amazing adventures of great technological and cinematic complexity. Those numbers required terrific chutzpah to put over, and yet, when it was appropriate, he could be equally simple and straightforward.

Naive as only dancers can be, he kept faith in the belief that popular entertainment could take spark in the high art forms of European painting and dance without becoming inaccessible or uppity. His work was warm and welcoming, never harsh. His own performance radiated a rare and appropriate modesty because he knew his place well. With time, the loafers he wore became as elegant as the finest, shiniest ballroom pumps.

Years ago it fell to me to cast Kelly’s role in a revival of “Singin’ in the Rain,” and I can report that it could not be done. There are few roles about which that could be said, but Gene Kelly had become something larger--an American hero.