Ella-gant interpretations: Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald memorably riffed on tunes made popular by Astaire.
As I suspect is true of many jazz fans, I'm an old-movie hound. It seems like a love of jazz, in many cases, is precipitated by a certain antiquarian bent, a nostalgia for a time when the Basie Band would face off against Chick Webb's Orchestra at a Harlem hotspot, or Charlie Parker would jam all night with Dizzy Gillespie at an after-hours joint on 52nd Street. And, for jazz fans like me, who weren't born until years after the era when jazz was an integral part of the cultural fabric, old movies provide a window into that much-romanticized realm. (My old man still gets lots of laughs at family functions when he tells the story of how, after watching the movie Laura for the first time as a kid, I commented to him how beautiful Dana Andrews was. "You know Dana Andrews was the guy, right?" he asked. To which I replied, "Oh. Then who was Gene Tierney?")
I was thinking that very thing while watching Anchors Aweigh this weekend on PBS. The 1945 film, which starred Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra as a couple of sailors on leave in Los Angeles, is perhaps best-remembered for the scene in which Kelly dances with Jerry the Mouse (of Tom and Jerry fame) in what was then a fairly remarkable bit of cinematic magic. But what many jazz fans might not recall is that the movie also spawned an enduring standard in the gorgeous Sammy Cahn-Jules Styne ballad "I Fall in Love Too Easily."
Sinatra, of course, sings the hell out of the tune as he sits at a piano in an empty Hollywood Bowl, bemoaning the fact that he's in love with the waitress from Brooklyn, not the glamorous singer he initially flipped for. The song was nominated for an Oscar for Best Original Song in 1946 but lost to another (and inferior, in my opinion) standard-in-the-making, Rodgers and Hammerstein II's "It Might As Well Be Spring," from the movie State Fair. "I Fall in Love" has enjoyed a substantial life in the 50-plus years since Sinatra first crooned it, and some of my favorite interpreters — vocal and instrumental — include Chet Baker, Miles Davis, Helen Merrill with Ron Carter, Shirley Horn, Keith Jarrett's Standards Trio and Kurt Elling. (I don't know if Elling has recorded this, but I've heard him do it live and it always kills). And if you want to hear a noncorny read of "It Might As Well Be Spring," by all means dig up King Pleasure's über-hip rendition.
From an earlier generation, Fred Astaire's films also provided a rich vein of great tunes destined for standard designation. Top Hat, from 1935, is chock a block with 'em: "Top Hat, White Tie and Tails," "Isn't This a Lovely Day" and the charming "Cheek to Cheek" were among the Irving Berlin gems interpreted by Astaire's warbly tenor. The next year's Swing Time might have even outdone its predecessor with Jerome Kern's and Dorothy Fields' wonderful score: "A Fine Romance," "Never Gonna Dance" and "The Way You Look Tonight" are not only superb tunes but truly help move the story along.
The set piece for "The Way You Look Tonight" strikes both tender and comedic chords, as Astaire's chastened Lucky serenades Rogers' pissed-off Penny while she primps in the bathroom. Of course, she can't help but be won over (come on, if Kerns and Fields can't get you out of dutch with the missus, you're just not trying) and Penny emerges with goop all over her face, a towel around her head, to plant a wet one on Lucky, who does a perfect double take when he catches sight of her.
If you're looking for jazz versions of Astaire tunes, you can't go wrong with Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong's classic duets albums, in which the pair inject tons of personality into "Cheek to Cheek," "Isn't This a Lovely Day" and "A Foggy Day" (the latter from 1937's A Damsel in Distress). Tony Bennett dedicated an entire album to Astaire songs with 1993's Steppin' Out, as he warmly embraced tunes such as Cole Porter's "I Concentrate on You" (from Broadway Melody of 1940) and the Schwartz-Dietz beauty "Dancing in the Dark" (from 1953's The Band Wagon), elegantly accompanied by the Ralph Sharon Trio
There are countless other reads of these enduring tunes, but I'll just mention one more. On 2007's Nightmoves, Kurt Elling offered a terrific read of "Change Partners" (from 1938's Carefree), in which he gets just right the mix of fun and desperation and belief that if he can just persuade the lady to dance with him that she'll never want to "change partners" again. Of course, as Elling is wont to do, he seamlessly blends the song with the bossa nova "If You Never Come To Me."
Broadway shows have likewise provided jazz artists plenty of great fare upon which to improvise, but that's a subject for another post.
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