That was an excellent one.

Although it has its amusing moments, in eneral the plot does not convince.

At first rather annoying in its heavy emphasis on reenactments, this movie ultimately proves fascinating, simply because the complicated, highly dramatic tale it tells still almost defies belief.

The film's masterful storytelling did its job. The message was clear. No need to overdo.

Fred Atwell (Fred Astaire), an Army pilot and former Flying Tiger, is on a national War Bonds promotion tour. While on leave in New York, he "courts" a fashion photographer and nightclub singer, Joan Manion (Joan Leslie). But his idea of courting seems to be following her around and p-ssing her off, while pretending to be an arrogant draft dodger and freeloader. Apparently, this works much better than, oh, say, telling her that he is a respectable war pilot and hero, and treating her like a lady.There are the usual masterful dances by Astaire, a few good songs by Harold Arlen (notably "My Shining Hour" and "One For The Road"), and a fairly good appearance by Robert Benchley. But this is not one of Astaire's better musicals.

This is a film that I saw for the first time today on TCM, and I am glad that I saw it. Knowing TCM, it will be some time before I have another opportunity. But it also will be some time before I am interested in seeing it again. Other commentators have commented on the film's strong points: some nice sets, great music, Benchley's befuddled speech and Astaire's "One for My Baby" song-and-dance routine.While I am a huge fan of Ginger Rogers, I was impressed by Joan Leslie's all-round performance as Astaire's co-star. She was apparently an extremely versatile talent - remember this is Gary Cooper's girlfriend in Sergeant York! The script placed some rather heavy demands on her character, and she delivers on all counts. It is difficult to portray a character walking the emotional tightrope of falling in love with somebody who apparently has values that you find unacceptable. Joan Leslie handles the chore admirably, focusing on her efforts to reform Astaire.Fred's character was a bust, however - but not necessarily because of his acting. He is poorly cast as a veteran of the Flying Tigers. In his first couple of scenes, he doesn't capture with authenticity a pilot in the dire circumstances that beset those beleaguered, heroic volunteers. Later he jumps off a train, abandoning a military good- will tour to pursue a good time on his own. Though less than noble, his actions are understandable. In short order, he ends up in New York, meets Joan, and begins to woo her. And that is when the movie starts to break down. As one commentator notes, the audience is never sure why Fred doesn't disclose his identity to Joan.His character is never portrayed with any clarity. He doesn't really seem connected to the war. The calendar he marks, seems to have no greater significance than to indicate the number of days he has left to pursue Joan. And that's where the script really betrays us. When does Fred transition from a desire to have a good time to a genuine affection (and eventually, love) for Joan? What prevents his telling her who he is? The fact that none of this is ever made clear is the downfall of an otherwise good movie.The only way I can explain Astaire's character to my own satisfaction is this: When he first meets Joan, he believes that as an aspiring photojournalist, she may shine an unwanted spotlight on him, depriving him of the freedom (and anonymity) to enjoy some time on his own, which is what motivated him to jump off the train. But that is never suggested by the film, itself. Instead he just waffles - agreeing to go on job interviews that he then sabotages, potentially placing her reputation in some jeopardy and also undermining her affections for him. These issues are really just swept under the carpet.In the middle of WWII, the movie did not settle for a "final" happy ending. Joan and Fred, finally do profess their love for each other, but Fred is on his way back into combat. So, the final shot of a tearful Joan is great: In a rush she is fulfilled, worried and hopeful. But Astaire's return is not to be taken for granted. This ending is realistic and cause for reflection, and consequently in odd juxtaposition to the rest of the film. If the entire film had captured more of the complexities personified by Joan Leslie in the last scene, it might have been a true classic. As it stands, Joan Leslie's nice performance, the songs, Astaire's amazing glass- smashing dance and Benchley's monologue are the best things about this movie.

The Sky's the Limit is one of Fred Astaire's least known movies, but it contains one of the best solos he ever did. The dance, in which Astaire breaks glasses with his feet, is legendary, but the movie as a whole does not support it. There are, disappointingly, only three dance numbers in the film, the plot never jells and much of the movie hovers somewhere between low-key charm and apathetic tedium. But "One for my baby," which comes near the end of the movie, is well worth the wait.In this wartime drama Astaire is cast, rather improbably, as a decorated Air Force pilot, home on leave and expected to act as a cardboard hero on an inspirational tour. Irritated by the whole affair, Astaire goes AWOL and winds up in New York, where he encounters Joan Leslie, a bright-eyed photographer who also sings (not very well.) Here's where things get odd. Fred (the main characters bear the actors' real first names) determines to win over Joan in the short space of his leave, but he doesn't tell her that he's in the army, allowing her to think he's a shirker who can't hold down a job and doesn't want to serve his country. Naturally, Joan will have nothing to do with him under these circumstances, even though she likes him. The question is: why does Fred keep his identity secret? Is it because he's afraid of getting caught by the MPs? Because he's simply playing a game with Joan and wants to give himself a handicap? Because he doesn't want her to love him for his uniform and exploits, or because he is bitterly sick of the war and wants to forget it? All of these are possibilities, and if Fred's motivation were fully explored, this might be a really interesting movie about life during wartime. Instead Fred's subterfuge comes across as an excuse to keep the plot going, and it's hard to believe Fred really wants Joan so badly when he won't do the one thing that would allow him to win her. Interesting undercurrents are eliminated by a cop-out ending, in which Joan sees Fred in his uniform and, instead of demanding an explanation, simply melts and gives him a hero's send-off.Astaire and Leslie have two duets. The first, "I've Got a Lot in Common With You," is up-tempo and extremely charming. The song's flirtatious, bickering lyrics capture the characters' relationship better than the screenplay ever does, and the dance suits Leslie's perky style. She is entertaining the troops in a canteen; Astaire insists on joining her, and she tries to cover up for him until she realizes—that he's Fred Astaire. As they take their bows she asks, "Where did you learn to dance like that?" and Astaire responds sarcastically, "Arthur Murray." (Arthur Murray ran a chain of dance studios that would, in the words of a contemporary song, "teach you dancing in a hurry.") The second duet is the standard romantic adagio, set to the soaring Harold Arlen song "My Shining Hour." It's just fine, though Leslie lacks Ginger Rogers's slenderness and fluid grace.When Fred believes he has lost Joan for good, he begins bar-hopping; his drunken gloom and the forlorn late-night settings are both well evoked. It's a revelation to hear Astaire sing the Arlen standard "One For My Baby." Frank Sinatra's definitive version is sung way behind the beat, slow and pensive, while Astaire's version has a driving blues rhythm. He winds up alone in a fancy hotel bar with a wide marble floor, a mirror and shelves of glasses. He slumps on a stool, precariously off balance; when he sets down his brandy glass the stem breaks, and he snaps too. He starts pacing like a caged beast, lashes out and breaks another glass on a low table with his foot. Hearing a snatch of "My Shining Hour," he dances a few steps of the remembered duet. Then the blues rhythm comes back and he leaps onto the bar and starts tapping. His movements are taut, fierce, edgy. This dance fully explores the danger in Astaire's explosive tapping; its rhythm is not crisp and regular like Gene Kelly's but erratic, unpredictable, violent. This quality comes out playfully in Top Hat when he "shoots" the male chorus-members, and in the "firecracker" solo in Holiday Inn. Darkness and dramatic tension appear in "Let's Face the Music and Dance," from Follow the Fleet, which starts with despair and attempted suicide. All of those were stage numbers; this one is for real, and there is more depth, nuance and emotional weight in the dance than in the rest of the movie. While the solo is inspired by destructive anger and climaxes with Astaire kicking over shelves of glasses and finally hurling a stool at the mirror, it transforms violence into grace and restores Astaire's equilibrium. After paying off the shocked bartender, he flips his hat up off the floor with his foot and saunters out with that inimitable swinging, one-hand-in-the-pocket walk. The movie should end here; it's clear that Fred will get over losing Joan, and it would be right if he paid for his self-defeating behavior. But this is a romantic comedy and a happy ending is required.A genuinely touching moment occurs before that ending. Robert Benchley, as Joan's boss, has been his usual buffoonish self, and delivered one of his patented dithering, scrambled lectures. He knows the truth about Fred and deliberately sends Joan where he knows she will encounter him, despite being in love with her himself. Benchley tells the excited Joan that he'll be at the airport to see her off and she'll recognize him: "I'll be the fat man with the broken heart."

Very few people have heard of it, but this is really one of my favorite Fred Astaire movies. In part because Fred does one of the best angry dance scenes that I've ever seen. He stumbles drunken, singing One More for my Baby, and smashes glass with his feet. He sways to the rhythm and leaps up on the metal bar to tap smash shattering glass. If you're lucky enough to see this movie keep in mind, that's real glass, not sugar glass like you normally see in movies. This was during WWII and sugar was rationed. Fred and Joan Leslie have a number of lovely romantic dance scenes. The background plot of WWII provides, well, a plot. By turns funny and bittersweet, a great dance movie.