This entry is part of the Gotta Dance! Blogathon hosted by Classic Reel Girl on May 25th. Click here to view more fabulous entries celebrating dance in film.
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On Wednesday, May 25th, we celebrate National Tap Dance Day and the birth of the King of Tap himself, Bill "Bojangles" Robinson.
Today, Robinson is best remembered for the four films he made with Shirley Temple. He has been both praised and criticized for his part in these movies. Praised for breaking race barriers when he andTemple became the first interracial dancing duo to grace the silver screen. Criticized for taking "Uncle Tom" roleswhere he portrayed servant, slave, butler, and overall protector of a little white girl.
Pick five classic films you would want to have with you if stranded on a deserted island.
Whittling
my beloved film collection to only five was no easy task. Which movies
would I be content forever replaying in my head because I know every
line and move by heart? Which movies would I want the full film
experience? I needed some criteria.
When
two handsome men are vying for your affection, what's a gal to do? If
you're Jean Arthur, you bask in the attention. If you are pre-code
Miriam Hopkins, however, you take the triangle as far as it can go--all the way.
In Design for Living (1933), Gilda (Hopkins) meets a pair of struggling artists, painter George (Gary Cooper) and playwright Tom
(Frederic March). Both make her tingle--one from toe to head, the other
head to foot, and she cannot decide whom she likes best. So what does
she do? Moves in with them to act as their muse. Nothing more per a "Gentleman's Agreement." It works fine until Tom is called away on business and carnal desire proves too strong for the remaining two.
Hopkins dramatically proclaims, "I am no gentleman."
The triad is broken up. Gilda and George go one way, Tom the other. All is well until Tom turns up one day while George is away. Gilda's bell still rings for Tom--figuratively and literally--she really does ring the bell of his old typewriter.
All that is needed to land March in the sack: a little ring-a-ding-ding.
A combination of prep work for this year's Dancing Legs quizzes and a star search for In the Good Old Days of Classic Hollywood and The Wonderful World of Cinema'sMarathon Stars Blogathon brought me to the sad realization that many of the world's greatest tap dancers are missing from our public consciousness and film library. Dancers who made possible the likes of Fred Astaire, Hermes Pan, and Eleanor Powell but were pushed aside due to the color of their skin. Dancers who were as talented as Ann Miller or Gene Kelly
but never given a fighting chance in Hollywood. Instead their dance routines are limited to decaying film reels or descriptions in a textbook. Today's post is a small step in trying to ensure their legacy is not lost. For the record, I strongly believe that the celebration of these dancers should not be limited to one day or even one month of the year. I plan to make a concerted effort throughout 2016 to view the rare film appearances of these incredibly talented dancers.
Jeni LeGon
Jeni LeGon was a solo tap dancer whose athletic movements were every bit as good as the male dancers of her day. After dancing with Bill "Bojangles" Robinson in RKO's Hooray for Love (1935), she scored a contract with MGM. According to dance historian Constance Valis Hill, LeGon was slated to perform in Broadway Melody of 1936, an Eleanor Powell star vehicle, but was taken off the assignment after LeGon "stopped the show" at a promotion event that included Powell. Per LeGon in 2006:
It was a color thing. They said they couldn't use two tap dancers, but that was bull corn.
From then on, MGM neglected her talent, opting to put her in servant roles instead. The biggest snub must have been when she played maid to dancer Ann Miller in Easter Parade (1948). It is a crime that her dancing skills were squandered.
Jeni LeGon and Bill "Bojangles" Robinson in a publicity shot for Hooray for Love (1935) Click here to sample their dancing.
On August 5th, TCM will celebrate one of the greatest--if not THE greatest--dancers to ever grace the silver screen: Fred Astaire. While the plots of his films are sometimes criticized for their (delightful) fluff, one aspect that cannot be disputed is the dance. Ever the perfectionist, Astaire's technique is flawless. His choreography, often created in collaboration with Hermes Pan, is inventive, utilizing the new medium of film to take dance to a level not possible on stage. As a dance partner, he is generous, allowing his female counterpart to shine, but he also ensures a solo in the film to showcase his own skills.
And that quibble about plot? Sure, the overall material is light, but the songs and dances are not randomly placed entertainment to be burst into at any time. They further the plot and the relationship between the characters--a revolutionary idea when Astaire first arrived on the scene in the early 1930s. Watch how Astaire enters a dance. He walks into it, allowing the music to gradually pull him to the steps as in "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" (Roberta). Or his dialogue gradually shifts into song as he begins to talk-sing the lyrics as in "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off" (Shall We Dance). The dance becomes an extension of the story's action and dialogue. It reveals the characters' personalities or conflicts they are experiencing. By the end of the number, for better or worse his relationship with his dance partner has evolved.
Without further ado...
Whether you've seen his films hundreds of times or can't get past the plot and need to fast-forward (for shame!) to the good stuff, here is a list of dances that you should view to understand the greatness of Fred Astaire. For the sake of keeping this post a manageable length, I will highlight one number from each movie that will be shown on August 5th, but honestly I could have included two or three per film. This was difficult!
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1) Flying Down to Rio (1933) ~ 6 am ET/ 3 am PT
The Dance: THE CARIOCA
Why you should see it: The number captures the state of dance in the early '30s (Busby Berkeley-ish inner circle, focus on geometrical patterns) and hints to where dance was going (the outer circle, focus on "real" dancing). The choreography was the brainchild of a then unknown Hermes Pan. Credit is due to Astaire who recognized Pan's talent and paved the way for the young choreographer in the business. This is also the number that started the whole Astaire-Rogers craze.
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2) The Gay Divorcee (1934) ~ 7:30 am ET/ 4:30 am PT
The Dance: THE TABLE DANCE
Why you should see it: Astaire and Rogers kick it up a notch when they whirl up and down a tiny table and chairs. It's an amazing feat of balance, rhythm, momentum, and grace. The space is small and a single misstep could cause them to tumble to the ground. Astaire originally performed THE TABLE DANCE with Claire Luce in The Gay Divorce, the play on which the film is loosely based. According to Astaire, this "swell trick" did in fact result in "many a fall rehearsing [...] and occasionally [Luce and Astaire] fell during the show, too" (176). Thank goodness the "trick" was preserved in this film, so we can enjoy a piece of old Broadway.
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3) Roberta (1935) ~ 9:30 am ET/ 6:30 am PT
The Dance: SMOKE GETS IN YOUR EYES
Why you should see it:This is the first romantic number Astaire choreographed for himself and Rogers. It is relatively simple compared to the 18-step staircases and skates to come, yet there is an intimate quality to the dance--more is professed in step than any spoken love scene. The couple enter arm in arm, heads together. Only the tune can break their hold. At
one point Astaire reaches for Rogers but resists his urge to touch her, bringing
his hand towards is heart instead--a sense of his character's unfulfilled
desire. As they dance they are one with the music, movements reaching crescendo as the song does. The music softens, and Rogers puts her head on Astaire's shoulder. In response, he gently places his hand over her head. A tender exchange has occurred without dialogue, but in case anyone needs to hear the words, the next scene solidifies it: he has proposed and she has accepted.
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4) Top Hat (1935) ~ 11 am ET/ 8 am PT
The Dance: CHEEK TO CHEEK
Astaire versus Rogers' feathered dress
Why you should see it: Astaire demonstrates how to handle on-the-job complications with dignity. Per the star of the day:
The dancing dresses of my partners have, for years, been a working problem, and in Top Hat I dare say it reached its dizzy peak. (207)
When Rogers began to dance, feathers flew everywhere--over the floor, on Astaire's clothes, and in his face. Astaire was NOT happy, but maintained composure and danced on. Neither Astaire's frustration nor the flying feathers could be perceived on film, so all ended well. Later (off screen), Astaire lightened the mood by singing a new version of "Cheek to Cheek" to his dance partner:
Feathers--I hate feathers--
And I hate them so that I can hardly speak,
And I never find the happiness I seek
With those chicken feathers dancing
Cheek to Cheek. (210)
In her autobiography, Rogers recalls that Astaire also gave her a feather bracelet charm as a peace offering. What a gentleman!
Why you should see it:Astaire and Rogers play working-class folk and their dancing reflects it. The movements in this number are more down-to-earth jazzy than sophisticated ballroom. Instead of standing erect, shoulders back, arms outstretched, Astaire and Rogers let loose. They throw their bodies around, clap their hands, jump heels-first into steps, and Astaire even tosses Rogers onto his hip. They are approachable, the guy and gal who might live next door. The couples they "compete" with are actual dance contest winners, which further give Astaire and Rogers an accessibility not felt in prior films.
Another number to check out - Astaire's battle with Rogers' beaded sleeve in LET'S FACE THE MUSIC AND DANCE. Those who don't know the story: Rogers' heavy sleeve whacked Astaire in the face, leaving him "knocked groggy" (his words). Despite retakes, the first--with the sleeve slap--was the best and is the one we see in the film today. Bonus: the beautiful art deco set and the story that unfolds within the dance, which is part of a play in the film
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6) Swing Time (1936) ~ 3pm ET/ 12pm PT
The Dance: NEVER GONNA DANCE
Why you should see it: Astaire emotes his character's anguish through dance. It's near the end of the movie and the outlook is dreary. Astaire has lost his girl. As he walks beside her, his body language pleads for her to dance. She consents (this is an Astaire-Rogers movie after all!). The music and movements recall earlier parts of the film, and Astaire and Rogers expertly move through the changing tempos. The result is a dance that summarizes what has occurred between the characters. It is his final attempt to win her back through shared memory, but it does not work. In a final turn, she briskly walks away, leaving him to himself. Shoulders slumped, he is alone and dejected.
Astaire and Rogers' flight up the 18-step staircase is another reason this number is impressive. They didn't merely ascend face-forward--they spin too! Legend has it that the duo danced up the steps 40+ times. This may be an exaggeration. They reshot 48 times; however the bulk of the retakes were after Astaire and Rogers already reached the top of the staircase. According to Pan, the last sixteen bars is where they ran into difficulties (Franceschina 78), and Rogers' account supports this when she states they "danced and danced and danced" on the second floor (194). In her book about Astaire and Rogers, Arlene Croce explains the camera angle moves to a stationary shot at the top of the stairs, ending the continuous take--which is how Astaire preferred to have his dances filmed--because the dance's "climax, a spine-chilling series of turns by Rogers, took forty takes to accomplish" (113).
If you look closely, you can see the cut towards the end of the dance, where Pan and Croce indicate the team began retake after retake.
Left: continuous crane shot - Right: second floor stationary shot
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7) Carefree (1938) ~ 4:45pm ET/ 1:45pm PT
The Dance: SINCE THEY TURNED 'LOCH LOMOND' INTO SWING
Why you should see it: People who are in the know about golf say this Astaire solo is impressive. He makes swinging a golf club and hitting the ball look effortless though it is much more difficult than non-golfers might think. How did he make it look so easy? Lots of practice on the golf course, of course!
I had about three hundred golf balls and five men shagging them, a piano and Hal Borne to play for me, and several buckets of iced beer. (235)
No wonder the dancer stated this was one of his favorite solos.
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8) The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle (1939) ~ 6:15pm/ 3:15pm
Why you should see it: Astaire and Rogers capture the signature dancing style of Vernon and Irene Castle on film. Compared to clips of the Castles, Rogers' front-facing kicks are higher and Astaire's footwork appears fancier, though the later is probably due to better film technology which adds clarity to the picture. Under Irene Castle's supervising eye (she served as technical advisor on the film), it would have been difficult to deviate from the original steps. Truth be told, it's nice to have an authentic recreation of the Castles' historically significant numbers.
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9) Shall We Dance (1937) ~ 8pm ET/ 5pm PT
The Dance: LET'S CALL THE WHOLE THING OFF
Why you should see it: Always up for a challenge, Astaire joins Rogers on skates in a number that will leave you nostalgic for the roller rink. How many takes until they got it just right? 150 per studio records (Franceschina 88).
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10) You Were Never Lovelier (1942) ~ 10:15pm ET/ 7:15pm PT
Why you should see it: Astaire swings! Well, sort of... Life magazine describes it as "[c]oupling ballet with jitterbug" (66), but that's close enough in my book. He gets down, shows his fancy footwork, then swings with Rita Hayworth to Xavier Cugat's band. Astaire and Hayworth respected each other's talents and enjoyed working together. It shows. The joy in this number is so infectious you might find yourself tapping along with Hayworth from the sidelines. She is soon on her feet, though, proving to be Astaire's equal on the dance floor.
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11) The Band Wagon (1953) ~ 12am ET/ 9pm PT
The Dance: DANCING IN THE DARK
Why you should see it: Astaire leaves the tricks at home and performs an elegant dance with Cyd Charisse. Their movements mirror the music, arms hitting accent notes with long, beautiful lines and bodies rising as the notes get higher. Astaire dances in character. At the beginning of the number he watches his partner's feet, clearly pondering the question she asked two scenes earlier, "Can you and I really dance together?" Astaire does not turn off Astaire the actor to become Astaire the dancer. Astaire is dancer and actor at all times.
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12) Silk Stockings (1957) ~ 2am ET/11pm PT
The Dance: ALL OF YOU
Why you should see it: The number contains elements of Astaire's previous dances, making it a fitting final salute to his dancing career in studio system movie musicals.* Reminiscent of the hat rack in Royal Wedding,he briefly dances with a chair. Like many of the routines from his and Rogers' films, the characters' conflicts are illustrated through dance. This time Astaire's Steve beseeches Charisse's Ninotchka to enjoy the capitalistic ways of dance and romance. He pulls her into the dance, she dances a little but tries to resist, and he persistently pulls her back again--similar to "Night and Day" in The Gay Divorcee and "Never Gonna Dance" in Swing Time. As Steve watches Ninotchka fall under the spell of dance, there are hints of Astaire's psychiatrist and Rogers' hypnotized Amanda from "Change Partners" in Carefree. This number is also evidence of Astaire's growth as a dancer. In Carefree,Pan had to coax Astaire into throwing Rogers over his legs during "The Yam" because Astaire did not believe he was built to lift. In both "All of You" and its reprise, Astaire performs several lifts with Charisse.
*He appeared in one last musical, Finian's Rainbow in 1968, but Silk Stockings was his final studio system era musical.
Why you should see it: You haven't lived until you've seen Astaire dancing on the ceiling! How was it done? Look away now if you don't want to dispel the magic or are determined to figure out the secret on your own. The room was built within a rotating barrel, the furniture was secured to the walls, and the cameraman was attached to a platform that rotated with the room. Meanwhile Astaire danced as the room revolved around him. Bravo to all involved!
Other numbers of note - In "Sunday Jumps" Astaire does an impressive number with a hat rack. "Open Your Eyes" is pulled from Astaire's real-life experience with his sister Adele when they performed on an ocean liner during a storm. We may not have Adele's dancing captured on film, but at least we have this memory.
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This post is part of the 2015 TCM Summer Under the Stars Blogathon hosted by Kristen at Journeys in Classic Film. Visit her blog daily to read new posts on each star of the day.
Rogers, Ginger. Ginger: My Story. 1991. New York: Harper Collins, 2008. Print.
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With only a few days left until the annual TCM Film Festival, I have this year's theme, History According to Hollywood, on the brain. I go back and forth on my film choices, wanting to hear the discussion connected with the "herstory" films, but also wanting to see old favorites on the big screen. Since this will be my first time attending the festival, I opted for the Palace Pass. This means I'll be missing out on the TCM Club exclusive panel "Facts and Fiction: Whose Responsibility?" hosted by Jeanine Basinger (my author idol!) and Jeremy Arnold. Hopefully some of the bloggers I read will attend, so I can hear secondhand what was discussed.
The films chosen for analysis include 1776, Young Mr. Lincoln, The Miracle Worker, Apollo 13 and many more set in an era prior to the film date. I am equally interested, however, in the way Hollywood shapes history through the portrayal of current events of the day. As one example, I think of the ticket-a-dance halls, popular during the 1920s and 1930s, but long since extinct. Lacking the libraries of in-depth research found on the American Revolution or Abraham Lincoln, we are left with the story Hollywood has bequeathed us, a few frames of celluloid, and Lorenz Hart's lyrics to "Ten Cents a Dance." Depending on the circumstances under which they were created, the story may reflect different shades of truth.
I can't recall my first exposure to ticket-a-dance halls, but I do remember being enchanted with the idea of dressing in glamorous gowns and being paid to dance. An added bonus: I would never be lacking a dance partner. In hindsight, my happy go-lucky attitude may have been naive. At the time, visions of a hunky Randolph Scott purchasing dance tickets, Harriett Hillard's bias-cut dress, and a dancing contest with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers played in my head. How could I have known any better?
Follow the Fleet (1936)
Later I saw Barbara Stanwyck's portrayal of a taxi driver. The dresses were less fabulous, the shoes and stockings wore through each night, and the job zapped every ounce of life in the dancers. Stanwyck's character was hardened, but she found her "hero" on the dance floor nonetheless. Doris Day's Ruth Etting showed an even grittier side, fighting off a tough guy at the beginning of Love Me or Leave Me (1955) and losing her dance hall job in the process. Suddenly the full meaning of the Hart's lyrics began to take hold:
Ten cents a dance, that's what they pay me.
Gosh, how they weigh me down.
Ten cents a dance, dandies* and rough guys,
Tough guys who tear my gown.
*as sung in Love Me or Leave Me; however "pansies" is used in other versions of the song
Somewhere between dancing with Fred and fighting off sleazy guys is the truth about dime dance halls. Consider my curiosity peaked.
Since then, I have kept my eye out for depictions of taxi dancers. I plan to explore these in future blog posts (maybe a monthly column of sorts).On the menu is a film I caught in January, These Glamour Girls (1939) starring a young Lana Turner, and the short "Asleep in the Feet" (1933) which Danny from Pre-code.com recently reviewed on his blog.
I also did a bit of research on dime-dance halls, which yielded mixed opinions. According to some, taxi dancing was the positive experience I first
imagined, where gals who loved to dance could make a better living on
their feet than as a secretary, and out-of-town strangers could easily
make new acquaintances.
Fighters and sailors and bowlegged tailors
Can pay for their ticket and rent me.
Others explain that the dance hall was friend to the social outcast, admitting
men regardless of race, ability, and occupation. Still others point out the presence
of actual
prostitutes among the dime-a-dance girls. If this was the case, it
wouldn't be a large leap for the patrons to assume their "rented"
partner--prostitute or not--owed them more than a friendly dance.
So the dance hall verdict is still out, but deciphering fact from fiction is part of the fun. Hope you can come along for the dance.
This post is part of Russia in Classic Film hosted by Fritzi at Movies Silently and sponsored by FlickerAlley. To check out all of the wonderful posts, click here.
Of the two films* Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse made together, Silk Stockings (1957) is by far the superior. This belief may be in the minority, but I stand by it. (You can read more about my unpopular opinion about their other movie, The Band Wagon, here.) Like Band Wagon, we are treated to beautifully choreographed dances showcasing Astaire and Charisse, who actually star this time around. However, there is much more to Silk Stockings by way of plot and subject matter.
*Three if you count Astaire and Charisse's brief appearance together in Ziegfeld Follies (1946), an ensemble piece featuring performances from over a dozen stars.
"I've never known anyone to resist enjoyment the way you do." ~Steve to Ninotchka
The primary focus of Silk Stockings is the ideological difference between the capitalistic West and communist Russiarepresented respectively by main characters Steve Canfield (Fred Astaire) and Ninotchka Yoshenka (Cyd Charisse). Where Steve parties all night, sleeps in, and rents extravagant hotel suites, Ninotchka works hard, wakes up early, and lives simply. Where Western culture celebrates the frivolous, Russian culture appreciates the useful. Pleasure and entertainment are a way of life in the West. The film even takes a self-depreciating jab at itself with a diva-ish swimming star (played by Janis Page) and a song ("Stereophonic Sound") about all the gimmicks added to movies "to get the public to attend the picture show." On the other hand, Russians view pleasure as a sign of selfishness, and art as a means to publicize communist culture. Finally, the characters' clothing visually symbolize their core differences. The American and Parisian women dress in gorgeous gowns of satin and silk while Ninotchka's dress is simple, made of a drab olive material. Charisse's outfits may be missing the razzle dazzle of her flashy Band Wagon costumes, but her dances have more meat to them. In her first dance with Astaire, the audience sees a gradual shift in her character's pro-communist attitude. By next dance, which is rather sensual for the time, the metamorphosis is complete.
In addition to Ninotchka, most of the Russian characters in Silk Stockings wish to escape from their oppressive society. The three commissars (Peter Lorre, Jules Munshin, Joseph Buloff), who are sent to return a stray Russian composer, rejoice at the thought of a prolonged stay in Paris, dancing and singing "Too Bad (We Can't Go Back to Moscow)"--the highlight of which is Peter Lorre doing Russian kicks between a table and chair. If seeing the oft serious actor behave in such a comedic manner doesn't put a smile on your face, I don't know what will!
Even the new commissar in Russia seems to understand the boys' unwillingness to come home. He wistfully tells Ninotchka about his experience in Paris: "I got very close to the French people. In fact, they deported me three times." The sentiment reaches a crescendo with the "Red Blues" dance
number, in which Russian workers secretly dance to jazz and lament their dreary
lifestyles.
If they are so unhappy, what keeps them there?One only has to remember the numerous asides throughout the film: if any of the Russians defect, death--either their own or their relatives'--awaits them. Of course, there is always Siberia as the three commissars explain in a song of the same name. Cole Porter's witty lyrics illustrate the undesirability of that option: "When it's cocktail time/it will be so nice/just to know you'll not have to phone for ice."
"But this is an American picture. You're liable to have Napolean win." ~Ninotchka
Ninotchka's words are a bit of an exaggeration, but she makes a keen observation--Hollywood has been known to embellish history. Silk Stockings itself would have been prime material for some doctoring given the political climate in which it was made. It was filmed during the height of the Cold War and just as McCarthyism was losing steam, although the musical production on which the film is based opened in 1955 when Senator McCarthy still had a stronghold on the entertainment industry. (For those not familiar, McCarthy's hunt for supporters of Communism resulted in end of numerous careers in the arts. The evidence used against individuals was often flimsy at best.) Whether or not this played into the portrayal of the cultural differences is hard to say. Both sides--Western Europe's bourgeoisie and Russia's proletarians--seem to be extreme versions of themselves in Silk Stockings. Capitalism wins, but it also triumphed in the original version, 1939's Ninotchka (starring Greta Garbo and Melvyn Douglas)*, which was made a decade prior to the Cold War and twenty years before the McCarthy era. The self-righteous face of capitalism, Steve, does not go unscathed. Towards the end of the movie, Ninotchka calls out Steve's inability to accept her values:
It's always your opinion. It's what you want and what you think. Everything I do is wrong. And everything you do is right. You leave me nothing of my own.
While the writers do not adequately resolve the issue, I appreciate that the inequity has been noted. There has to be a little give. We need to meet in the middle. Democrats and Republicans take note.
*This is one of the few cases where the remake is just as good as the original. I encourage you to check it out if you haven't already.
"For the past five years, I have been assigned to the job of rectifying the mistakes of foolish commissars." ~Ninotchka
In addition to cultural relations, Silk Stockings also briefly touches upon the inequality between men and women in the workplace. Because Ninotchka is a woman, the male Russian commissar casually glances at her credentials and doubts her ability to take on a complicated mission. She points out that his opinion is based on her gender and that she is more than qualified. He finally concurs and when she leaves, he comments to his mistress that Ninotchka is not a woman. This is symptomatic of a general attitude that women who take their job seriously are somehow unnatural.
What is natural--or so the film tries to tell us--is the overactive male libido. Whether European, American, or Russian, all the men are chasing skirts in this film. (Interestingly enough, there are several extramarital affairs occurring, but the movie does not play these up due to censorship. Listen to the dialogue carefully to see what I mean.) Additionally the lyrics of Porter's "Satin and Silk" tell men, "If she's wearing silk and satin/she's for petting and patting" and "If a woman was born a prude/she can reverse her attitude/if she's wearing silk and satin." Does this sound like 'she's asking for it' to anyone else? Yikes!
Silk Stockings came to fruition at a unique time in history. It is squeezed between the McCarthy era and the Cold War, between a movie-going and TV-watching public, between the censored studio system and independent film making. As a result, Silk Stockings is a treasure trove of 1950s ideologies and attitudes across cultures and genders, from the workplace to the boudoir. And to top it off, you get Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse!