Sports and Musical Films

Playoff fever: I'm sitting here keeping an eye on Game 3 of the NL playoffs, biting my nails a bit as we enter the 11th inning with the score tied 4-4, and a thought occurs to me: What the hell am I doing talking about sports?! On my website? Where everyone can see?

I swear, after my revelations today about Moulin Rouge and the questionable casting of Barbra, this might be the capper that gets me thrown out of the International Sodomite Brotherhood Local 314.

Anyway, it has gotten me thinking about sports and movie musicals, two worlds that don't often intersect, to be sure. My favorite of the spare genre is Damn Yankees!, the superb 1958 George Abbott-Stanley Donen adaptation of the Broadway hit. Gwen Verdon, Ray Walston, Jean Stapleton, a brief appearance by Bob Fosse and, of course, the simply yummy Tab Hunter as Joe Hardy. What's not to like?

There was a seldom-mentioned 1967 TV adaptation of the show, done on a spare budget but with a cool cast, including Phil Silvers as Applegate, Linda Lavin (in her first TV gig) as Gloria, and Lee Remmick as Lola. I've never seen it, although it's been praised by a couple of folks whose opinions I trust as a clever, worthwhile take on the script and score. (A commenter at the IMDb notes that the TV version restores the full presentation of "The Game", which was used only sparingly in the movie, so that's a bonus.)

My second favorite melding of sport and musical comedy would have to be the Aggie lockerroom scene in the otherwise lamentable The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Dolly, I love ya, but stick to the script and score you came in with; it may not be the world's most well constructed musical but I could have done without the I-beg-your-Parton interpolations. And Burt Reynolds was so far out of his depth it's a wonder he didn't get the bends. Grab Dolly's "personal flotation devices" and make your way to the surface, Burt! There's bound to be another Bandit sequel in ya. Charles Durning sings and dances circles around him and practically everyone else.

But that lockerroom scene, with tons of nearly nekkid, be-jocked boys shimmying, kicking, tapping and yee-hawing? Scrumptuous. Yes, my willing suspension of disbelief permits me to accept that every single one of those lithe dancer types could cut it on the Texas gridiron. So sue me. When they hit the showers, I hit pause. Dancer butts are the best. "Better than a football game?" You betcha!

Here's one of the best Best Little Whorehouse sites I've found.

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