Fred Astaire loses his pants, Ginger Rogers loses her patience, and I lost track of how often I said “I can do that" while eating snacks in bed.
Swing Time is full of floaty romance, dazzling footwork, and Astaire being a charming mess that Ginger somehow doesn’t throat-punch. The dancing is unreal—like, did they rehearse with wizards? “Pick Yourself Up” alone could cure seasonal depression, and “The Way You Look Tonight” feels so perfectly woven into the moment it’s hard to believe it wasn’t written just for this movie. Pure romantic alchemy.
But I can’t just hand-wave the blackface number. It’s jarring, offensive, and totally unnecessary—even more so because the rest of the film is working so hard to be timeless. It’s a sharp turn into “Why did they think this was okay?” and entirely removes you from the magic.
When the movie’s good, it’s dreamy, stylish, and hits like a sugar rush. But that one sequence leaves a big scuff mark on an otherwise polished pair of dancing shoes.
Fred Astaire loses his pants, Ginger Rogers loses her patience, and I lost track of how often I said “I can do that" while eating snacks in bed.
Swing Time is full of floaty romance, dazzling footwork, and Astaire being a charming mess that Ginger somehow doesn’t throat-punch. The dancing is unreal—like, did they rehearse with wizards? “Pick Yourself Up” alone could cure seasonal depression, and “The Way You Look Tonight” feels so perfectly woven into the moment it’s hard to believe it wasn’t written just for this movie. Pure romantic alchemy.
But I can’t just hand-wave the blackface number. It’s jarring, offensive, and totally unnecessary—even more so because the rest of the film is working so hard to be timeless. It’s a sharp turn into “Why did they think this was okay?” and entirely removes you from the magic.
When the movie’s good, it’s dreamy, stylish, and hits like a sugar rush. But that one sequence leaves a big scuff mark on an otherwise polished pair of dancing shoes.
