Directed by: Mark Sandrich. This was utterly on a whim, to address a longstanding deficiency in my film diet of any musical content. Shamefully, this is my first Astaire-Rogers experience—isn’t that shameful? Like any of the other toe-tapping big-time dance movies I’ve seen (I guess just Singin in the Rain), I’m not sure how much insight I have to offer. My vocabulary about such things is infinitely small, and I watched pretty purely, as an empty-headed spectator appreciating some old-timey smiles and 1930’s, face-value gender roles, reinforced heavily with a technical appreciation for the amazing interior sets and elaborate dance numbers. To a certain extent, I have to say that I don’t “really like” these movies, but I appreciate dipping my toe in the water, a tourist in a land where I can pretend like this is really my thing for 90 minutes. But then again, who’s to say where that line is drawn? I watched it, and I enjoyed it, so what’s the big deal? This is pretty good, right?