There is a unique kind of elegance in Cukor's way to see the world. An elegance that is utterly personal. Witty, warm, enchanting. It could disguise, transform and magnify the smallest, thinnest trifle. I remember feeling my cheeks kind of numb after the film was over, not from laughing but from smiling all the way through. Cukor's reputation as a women's director was no myth. Here, the glorious Kay Kendall, in a character written with a tired left hand, shines all the same because Cukor knew and understood what made her so irresistible. She was, in the history of the movies, like a comet that flashed before us dazzling us and disappearing very fast but leaving behind a unique brand of magic. In "Les Girls" she even dances with Gene Kelly, wears hats and sun glasses like no one ever had before or since. She's an impossibly perfect combination of Allison Janney and Greta Garbo. This is a film that more often than not, people forget to remember. I think it's time to correct that. Rent it or buy it, switch on the weather channel, select a rainy winter Sunday, invite a bunch of friends and have a ball.
Review of Les Girls
