The TV Advent Calendar- Day 4

22. Jane the Virgin

Cards on the table, this is probably the most personal pick on this list. Even though Jane the Virgin won accolades and acclaim and a shedload of awards, it's undoubtedly the show on this list where its placement is most linked to my own experience of watching it. But hey, that's what this list is for: a place where I can go in depth about why these shows are my personal favourites, and boy do I love me some Jane. I started watching this show on a whim, and I thought it was pretty sweet for the first few episodes. It didn't blow me away, but I thought the cast were charming and the plot was fairly engaging. And then there's a moment in the ninth episode that hit me like a ton of bricks, punching me square in the heart and sending tears cascading down my face. From that point on, I was in the show's firm emotional chokehold, hoovering up the two seasons that were out at the time, and it kept me hooked right up until the finale. Which brings us here. Now

Jane the Virgin takes a genre of TV I have basically no experience with (the telenovela) and creates such a loving, warm-hearted love letter to it that it doesn't even matter whether you're an expert or a total novice. This is particularly aided by one of the best uses of a narrator I've ever seen in a show. That's Anthony Mendez, whose silky tones perfectly bridge together a myriad of wild, emotional plots, while making sure that the show's frequent use of meta-humour and conceptual playfulness always lands. Because our protagonist is a writer, Jane the Virgin is a show that quickly gains the ability to move seamlessly through the idea of being a creative and approach its wider themes in some pretty inventive ways, ranging from fun, to poignant to utterly devastating

The show has such a great handle on its depth of feeling, especially when it comes to the core characters. There isn't a weak link in the main cast, and the extravagance and insanity of the telenovela-esque plot makes for a perfect match with the writers' ability to make every decision carry serious emotional heft. It won't be for everyone but I think the splashy, over-the-top stylistic choices pair really nicely with the show's ability to keep deepening and complicating its story narratively and emotionally. There's a real truth behind every decision made in Jane, and even when it lapses into the unlikely, it always manages to turn it around again and make it a crucial part of its charm

The twists come hard and fast in Jane, and the show has a real knack for making these big, soapy revelations really resonate. Obviously that's something it borrows from the telenovela but again there's so much love and reverence for that style of storytelling that it never feels like a cheap spoof or parody. Instead, it's a crucial tool for telling Jane's story in a way that directly feeds into something that's important to her. And that's what this is at the end of the day: Jane's story. Everything in this show is done in a way that's totally subjective to Jane, and it builds a nice rhythm of filtering everything that happens through her twin understandings of both reality and the conventions of TV storytelling. This lends the show a heavy dose of self-awareness, but it only works because Gina Rodriguez plays the role to perfection. Again, it's a show with a big-beating heart and shows so much love for every corner of its universe, and so it never feels anything less than 100% genuine when it veers into meta territory

Because the show justifies that and is totally up front with how genre savvy it is, it gives it so much more freedom to use its tropes and clichés in ways that are both knowing and beautifully emotional. Every character is given an arc that is entirely constructed from clichés, but the show is smart enough to dive a little deeper and explore the feeling behind each of its narrative choices. It also lets Jane make some surprisingly sharp social observations that, although they sometimes feel a little heavy-handed, still work because they're usually deployed at the right time to deepen the show's world and lend it some real stakes. All of these beats are remixed constantly over Jane's five seasons, and the show keeps finding ways to use them to ensure that it never once runs out of steam

Again, this is a show that really struck a chord with me when I watched it, a major factor as to why it places on this list, but it's a show that I couldn't compile a top 25 without including. Any show that's broadly a romantic comedy while also incorporating plots about the international drug trade and the American entertainment industry without missing a beat has to be doing something right, and the fact that it's so welcoming and accessible to audiences that might not be the most familiar with the plot beats it's referencing is just another testament to why it works so well. I love Jane Villanueva and her wild, warm world. I've rewatched this show three times at this point, and I know I'll keep coming back to it in the years to come

The TV Advent Calendar- Day 3

23. Arrested Development

And now, the story of a beloved sitcom, and the one critic that tried to explain why it's one of his favourites. Where do I start with this show? How can I even begin to capture the legacy of a sitcom that, in its prime, came to shape the surreal non-sequiturs and repeating variations on jokes that we see time and time again in meme culture? A show that came back from cancellation right at the start of the streaming boom and became a cautionary tale for anyone looking to relive the glory of the past? A show that has such a passionate following, united by the incredibly niche and weird brand of comedy that it makes look so effortless? The truth is that Arrested Development contains multitudes, and putting words on why it works so well is kind of a fool's errand when part of the show's charm comes from how it makes such bizarre comedy flow so seamlessly

And look, we'll get it out of the way now: the fourth and fifth seasons of this show absolutely stink. Not for lack of trying, but the chances of lightning striking the same place twice were always going to be slim. If anything, I think it actually proves how great the first three seasons were that the exact alchemy that went into making them just couldn't be repeated. The way Arrested Development constructs its jokes is just pure genius. It introduces them as funny, slightly random punchlines, before finding new ways to use them again, and again, and again, creating a rhythm and flow that quickly becomes its own comedic language. It's a show with plenty of running gags, but their genius comes from the fact that it's never a sprint or a marathon: it's a relay race

Arrested Development is at its best when it brings back that joke from seven episodes ago that you'd completely forgotten about, and places it in a whole new context, using the same gag in a different way to ensure a totally fresh laugh. And just when you get on the show's wavelength and think you can predict the next joke that's going to make a comeback, it turns out to be one you'd never even have expected, but it always works. Every time this happens, it fits so perfectly into the new context that it makes you wonder how the writers are able to engineer every joke so that they become like comedy swiss-army knives, capable of doing whatever they need to to whenever they need to do it and never once missing a beat in the process

Plot-wise it's a little like Succession, following a rich family finding themselves in the shit again and again, but instead of having them be cold, ruthless and dangerously efficient, every single character is a pathetic, codependent idiot, yet somehow the show finds a way of keeping you onside and making you love the Bluths despite how awful they can be. There's no depth too low for them to stoop to, and although you're laughing at them and not with them, the charm of the cast ensures that every one of these characters stands as some of the funniest and most memorable ever jammed into a sitcom. Special mention of course to living, breathing meme Tobias Funke, and the unforgettable Lucille Bluth, played to acidic perfection by the absolute queen that is the late Jessica Walter

It's also the rare show that I think does benefit from binge watching rather than spacing the episodes out. If you want to get the best out of this show and the unique back and forth it develops between its jokes and your expectations, there's no better way than to just tear through those first three outings in quick succession. Obviously you should go at your own pace, but the beauty of Arrested Development is that it doesn't lose anything when viewed in big chunks of episodes. Again, it's not something I'd usually recommend with most shows but this one really supports it, especially as the seasons roll on and the web of interconnected gags gets more and more intricate and showrunner Mitchell Hurwitz finds more and more ways to expand the universe of the show through the infinite stupidity of the Bluth family

It's just such an innovative show, one that, it its prime, was unparalleled for sheer offbeat genius and inventive, consistently funny jokes. It's a show about stupid, horrible people, but always finds ways to radiate charm and infinitely watchable weirdness. It's a perfect blend of fast-paced ridiculousness and cringe comedy that always hits the spot, and it's just hard to think of another sitcom that nailed every little idiosyncratic detail so well. From the wonderfully pathetic cast of characters to the dialogue that's so specific it nearly becomes its own language and even fake tags at the end of every episode teasing things that aren't going to happen, Arrested Development is just one of a kind. Is it a shame that it couldn't keep its hot streak going? Absolutely, but when it's good, there's few shows that can match it. If you haven't seen it yet, you've made a huge mistake

The TV Advent Calendar- Day 2

 24. Boardwalk Empire

Dark, brooding crime shows with antihero protagonists are nothing new, but when they're done well they can be something really special, which is exactly what Boardwalk Empire is. Created by Sopranos writer Terrence Winter and with a pilot directed by Martin Scorsese, it's packing some serious prestige right off the bat, but the beauty of Boardwalk is its ability to take that impossibly great combination of talents and somehow come out even better, marking itself as one of HBO's best originals to date. It's a gangster show with a unique perspective, showing the sin-soaked world of 1920s Atlantic City from the point-of-view of the deeply corrupt politician Nucky Thompson as he grapples with all manner of forces on both sides of the law during prohibition

With a cast led by the incomparable Steve Buscemi and a legion of the best character actors in the business, there's no shortage of incredible performances in Boardwalk Empire as players both fictional and real dream, scheme and backstab each other in pursuit of power. Steven Graham's turn as Al Capone really needs no introduction at this point but it can't be overstated how full-blooded and thrilling that performance really is. He nails the cold-blooded aggression of course, but there's a quiet, unsettling humanity there too that I think is indicative of how the show weaves history with its own creations. It's consistently inspired, perfectly landing in the middleground between faithful recreation and really exciting historical fiction, and as a result, it's equally welcoming to both newcomers, as well as those familiar with the period

The way that Boardwalk recreates 1920s New Jersey is nothing short of stunning. No detail has been spared here, from the rich period-accurate production design right down to the soundtrack, which is largely composed of music from the era performed by contemporary artists. This is the real heart of the show, and the amount of love gone into restoring this world and bringing every single corner of Atlantic City to life is just absolutely staggering. It fits in nicely with the way the show tells its story too, and as Nucky struggles to keep up with the rapid changes of American society, the whole look and feel of the show follows suit. This is something that especially becomes apparent in the fourth season, which cranks up the melancholy with each episode before forcing you to look back and see how much has changed quicker than you could even begin to notice

It's also worth saying that Boardwalk Empire has a feeling of genuine lethality unlike anything I've seen on TV. Only a select few characters are truly safe, and everyone else feels like they're living on borrowed time. That feeling that anyone can go at any moment is what gives Boardwalk Empire this genuine sense of danger, making it so unpredictable and unbelievably tense, especially when the cast is stacked to the rafters with volatile and violent personalities like Gyp Rosetti and Chalky White who feel like they could just combust at any minute. It's a violent show for sure but it earns every drop of blood, and always takes the time to contemplate on the chaos and ask if any of it was worth it at all

And that's ultimately what the show is about: violence. For all of the glamour and sheen that Atlantic City has on the surface, the core is rotten, and Boardwalk goes on to apply this idea to every American institution. It's set at a time where progress is built on bloodshed, where pleasure has a cost, and everything is deteriorating just as quick as it's being created. There's a quiet tragedy to that, and Boardwalk laments that horrible truth in real time. That does mean that the show's ending is slightly predictable but I'd argue that works in its favour. The destruction coming for every character is inevitable, and instead of denying that or trying to make some kind of grand reveal out of it, Boardwalk hones in on it, steering straight into the storm and meditating on the fate that all violent men are bound to face

It's just such a striking show, one that hits hard and delivers huge thrills without ever sacrificing the tragic sting that comes from a life lived in sin. For all of its blood-soaked bluster, Boardwalk knows how to dole out heartbreak; Farewell Daddy Blues still sticks in my mind as one of the saddest episodes of television I've ever seen, and is a perfect example of how this show is able to build startling, sobering amounts of sympathy for characters who consistently prove to be capable of such awful things. So what if the last season wasn't as good as it could have been? If Nucky Thompson taught us anything, it's that every successful deal comes with a little compromise. I'll drink to that

The TV Advent Calendar- Day 1

 

25. Atlanta

If there's a show currently on the air that I can rely on to always deliver something different with every episode, it's Atlanta. Initially described by its creator, star and actual living god Donald Glover as "Twin Peaks with rappers", Atlanta has found new ways to grow and develop beyond that premise and become something so incredibly specific yet utterly spectacular in just 21 short episodes. It's the kind of thing that could really only exist on television, playing fast and loose with its premise and switching its whole universe up episode to episode. Following put-upon Earn and his efforts to manage the career of his cousin Alfred, AKA the rapper Paper Boi, as well as the adventures of slacker Darius and Earn's on-again, off-again girlfriend Van, Atlanta wastes no time in creating a world of surreal characters and situations that just kind of flit in and out of the gang's life. It's a show that favours a looser, more character-driven narrative rather than a concrete plot, but I think that's absolutely its greatest strength

There's a lot of commentary in Atlanta about America and its descent into increasingly surreal chaos, and the way Glover presents these observations is just insanely effective. More often than not they just appear, breaking the weirdness with a sharp blast of reality. Take season one's The Jacket, where Earn's nonchalant quest to find his missing coat ends with a searing comment on the unfortunately common failings of the American justice system. Not that the show ever feels like a hard watch, either; Glover excels at unleashing the strongest satirical jabs at exactly the right time. It's a tough tone to get right, with a very specific marriage of hard insights and genuinely hilarious gags

So much of this comes from how the show deploys its characters. Earn and Alfred are great right off the bat, and their differing perspectives provide the show new avenues in terms of the storytelling, especially when it plays them off each other like in North of the Border. But for me, the two most interesting and effective players in the main cast are Darius and Van. Lakeith Stanfield refuses to play Darius as any sort of stock "weird best friend" archetype, instead turning him into a slack-jawed eccentric who comes alive with these sudden moments of harebrained genius. Any episode that focuses on him is bound to be a standout, and I think the same is true of Zazie Beets as Van. The show becomes electric when we see the world through her eyes, illuminating the trials and tribulations that come with being a WOC without ever sacrificing the bizarre genius that makes Atlanta stand out

It's just such an exciting show, one that delivers something entirely different in every episode without missing a beat. One minute you could be watching a fairly lighthearted tale of a man trying to get a haircut, only for the show to follow it up with the claustrophobic nightmare that is Teddy Perkins. The sheer variety of where these episodes go and what they're able to say in that time never fails to amaze me. It all just fits together so perfectly to create a believable, lived-in and deliciously weird world, one where alligator men and Justin Bieber rub shoulders with invaluable insights on celebrity culture and the toxicity of social media. It's a show that, at its weirdest, acts as the perfect mirror to the real world, while also serving as an incredible vehicle for the messages that Glover is aiming to deliver

And as the second season progresses, Glover really creates a feeling of entrapment, really leaning on the idea that these characters are stuck in an endless cycle that they'll never quite be able to break. Atlanta knows how to get its audience onside with laughs and gleeful weirdness, but can flip the tone in an instant and make the viewer interrogate why it's doing what it does. There's such a great variety in the episodes but nothing ever feels random. It's not surrealism for the sake of surrealism, and it feels like real care has been put in to build a real narrative throughline, something reinforced by the use of sub-titles. The second installment is a obviously followup to the first, but by marking itself as Robbin' Season, it builds on the idea that everything that happens, no matter how strange, is structured and controlled by an unseen force, making decisions for these characters without them even knowing

It's formless and shapeless, effortlessly doing whatever Glover needs it to, and it never once feels like he's compromising anything in the process. The show is practically built on surprise, constantly finding new ways to push the envelope and deliver the unexpected, and there's something just so thrilling about that. There's just such a dedication to doing something new in every episode, to reinventing itself every time and always hitting the mark. It's a show that recognises and respects the history of all of the TV that influenced it and uses that as a jumping off point to veer into uncharted territory. It's anything but predictable, and whatever it does next, I'll be there, ready to have my mind blown all over again

ANNOUNCEMENT: My 5 Year Anniversary Special

So here we are. Five whole years of writing about movies. In that time, there's been ups and downs. I've explored the world of British sitcoms, toasted the best of the 21st century, and tried and failed to understand the Death Wish remake. I've defended Game of Thrones' ending, waxed lyrical about Harold and Maude and It Happened One Night, and struggled to wrap my head around Joker. There's been ravings about Paul Thomas Anderson and Studio Ghibli and rants about Mötley Crüe and Hellboy. I've written some things I'm incredibly proud of (my Clerks retrospective, the top 100, my not-review of Extra Ordinary), as well as some stuff I'm a little less proud of (the pieces I've written on Black Books and The I.T. Crowd have... not aged well). I've even been to a couple film festivals, both in-person and virtual, and being able to blog along as I watched those movies has been a definite high point of this whole endeavor. But we're here now, and although I celebrate every year that passes, it's time to toast a half decade of the Scoundrel of the Screen in style with something a little different

TV has always had a presence on this blog, but I don't feel like I've given my love for the medium its due. I watch an embarrassing amount of television, and although I've mentioned a lot of favourites over the years, I think the time has come to look a little closer, and especially show some love to shows that I haven't really found an opportunity to talk about before. That's why, for the month of December, I'm going to be counting down my top 25 TV shows of all time, advent calendar style. That's right, one a day, starting with my 25th favourite on December 1st, before talking about my favourite show ever made on Christmas Day

I should lay down a few rules before we get started, and I won't be repeating any of this over the month of December, so listen up. Obviously this is all my own opinion, and the order of the shows is entirely based around how I feel as I write this list. They were a hard bunch to order but in the end I got it down to something I'm happy with, even if the ranking swapped around somewhat as I put the list together. The shows themselves rarely changed though, as a lot of these are favourites I've held onto for years. I love each and every one of these series, and every one of the entries will serve as a glowing recommendation for you to check out a show if you haven't already.

Also, if I'm missing something, it's probably because I haven't seen it. I've watched a lot of shows but there's just as many that have passed me by, including some really iconic series that I'm ashamed to admit I haven't seen. There's a lot of TV out there, but as always, anything I'm missing now will get its own writeup in the future if I catch it and happen to love it

Also, because of the nature of lists, there were a ton of shows that I love that I just couldn't find room for, and I ended up with a shedload of honourable mentions as a result. Some of them are shows that I love that missed the boat because I found 25 I prefer, while others are shows that I haven't seen enough of to count as an all-time favourite, but love everything I have watched. There's also a fair few shows that have great seasons, but just don't have the consistency for me to label them as all-timers. So here they are, my honourable mentions, in no particular order:

Stranger Things

Justified

The Knick

Ted Lasso

Broad City

Uncle

Big Little Lies

Barry

The Killing/Forbrydelsen

Maniac

Spaced

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Dark

Bob's Burgers

Watchmen

The Haunting of Hill House

The I.T. Crowd

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt

Futurama

True Detective

Phew. Anyway, shall we begin?

Top 20 Movie Musical Numbers: Part 2 (10-1)

10. Dentist! (Little Shop of Horrors) 

In the last entry, I talked at length about how deliciously nasty The Hell of It is, but lamented the lack of a visual component. I don't just want to hear a villain wax lyrical about their cruelty, I need to see it too. Enter Dentist!, a truly wicked ode to legal torture from a character who's not even the main villain of the film. It's funny, because although Little Shop of Horrors is so centered around Seymour, Audrey and Audrey II, it's Steve Martin's relatively secondary dentist that steals the show for me. Not only is he Audrey's shithead boyfriend, he's also just massively sadistic, and if Martin was having fun in this cartoonishly evil role before, then I don't even have words for what happens when he starts singing. The bouncy doo-wop music, the deliciously vile delivery and the literal torture he's doling out on his patients make for a number that, horrible as it is, brings so much style and fun to the table that it just makes the whole movie

And I guess it kind of sums up one thing I love about musicals. Dentist! takes something so grim and horrible and gives it a liberal splash of Broadway, turning a sinister subject matter and making it so fabulously wicked. It is a horror musical after all. Over the course of this list, I've talked about villain songs and songs with more twisted undertones, but I don't think there's many that can match how utterly demented this song, and the larger character of Orin Scrivello, truly is. It's fun, it's catchy, and it's deeply fucked up. Welcome to the top 10, folks!

9. Pure Imagination (Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory)

Wait, Pure Imagination's only at number nine? Well ain't that a kick in the snozzberries. In all seriousness, I love this film, and it's kind of impossible to dispute the pure power of this song in and out of context. Much as I like how Tim Burton's remake provides a revisionist take on musical numbers, there really is something about the first adaptation's soundtrack that really can't be beat. Call it nostalgia or a fear of change, but I really think they nailed it first time out. There's a buffet of bangers to choose from on this soundtrack-I'm even quite partial to the notorious Cheer Up Charlie- but as soon as I hear the opening notes of Pure Imagination, the decision is already kind of made. From the literal eye candy of the set design to the quiet chaos of Gene Wilder's performance and the quietly heartfelt lyrics, it really is just irresistible

So maybe it is the safest choice on this list, but it really just exemplifies why Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is such a perfect film that encapsulates everything that is great and awful about being a child. Before Wonka goes all Jigsaw and punishes the worst traits of youth, he opens the journey with this poignant ode to childlike wonder. That's a theme that comes up time and time again in this film, and is kind of the whole point of Grandpa Joe's character. Pure Imagination is a beautiful little number that tells kids that, as long as they have the power to dream, the possibilities are endless, and they can do just about anything. Like bring a group of unsuspecting children down a scary hell tunnel or drop a little girl into a furnace

8. Step in Time (Mary Poppins)

Picking a song from the Mary Poppins duology was... challenging. I mean there's a lot of them, and the level of both variety and brilliance is strong across the board. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious is the iconic pick, Feed the Birds is beautiful and Let's Go Fly a Kite is lovely, and Returns is no slouch either with cuts like Trip a Little Light Fantastic and The Place Where the Lost Things Go, but a choice had to be made, and purely on the basis of the number that gives me the most consistent joy, it's hard to beat Step in Time. Chimneysweeps! Dancing! Dick van Dyke's legendarily awful Cockney accent! Mary Poppins is, at its heart, a celebration of the joyful things in life, and although there's no shortage of tunes that bring the cheer factor, there are few numbers in either film that are uniquely bouncy and catchy as Step in Time

The cross-roof choreography is amazing of course, birthing the subtle art of chimneysweep gymnastics in a way that few films can rival. On top of that, Mary Poppins gets in on the action and even then it's not even anywhere close to reaching peak joy as the 'sweeps dance through the Banks household, chanting their support for the suffragettes and boisterously welcoming Mr. Banks home. It is infectiously happy in a way that only Mary Poppins can deliver, and although pretty much every song in the film matches it for Sherman Brothers goodness, none of them can put a smile on my face quite like this one

7. Ain't There Anyone Here For Love (Gentlemen Prefer Blondes)

Oh Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, why don't people talk about you more? When you think of this film's musical numbers, you might go straight for Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend and that's okay. It's a wonderful, iconic sequence that uses Marilyn Monroe's indelible star power to incredible effect. But I've mentioned before that I adore Jane Russell in this film, and so it's her glorious, innuendo-laden anthem that takes 7th place on this list. It's bouncy, upbeat and loaded with some tack-sharp quips as Russell's Dorothy Shaw outlines her ideal man and brings a team of Olympic athletes along for the ride, I think a lot of what I've said about other songs can be applied to this one, and if you're starting to notice my fondness for fun, energetic numbers packed with gags, then you're not wrong, but to be fair, none of the others have Jane Russell's innocently filthy badminton metaphors

And I think that's what makes it work. There's a cheekiness to Ain't There Anyone Here For Love that really makes it pop, and Russell sells the witty frothiness of the whole thing perfectly. I love the way she owns the screen, using the training Olympians as human props and making a meal of all of her vocal deliveries. The set design and staging is relatively simple but with a performer like Jane Russell at the centre, it never really needed to be flashy or intricate. The genius of the film is how well it balances the screwball comedy and the musical numbers, never switching between them so much as seamlessly blending them, and this song is absolute proof of that. Diamonds may be a girl's best friend, but at the end of the day, I know what gym I'm training in

6. Human Voice (Anna and the Apocalypse)

If I'm being honest, part of me devised this list as a roundabout excuse to talk about Anna and the Apocalypse, the Scottish zombie Christmas musical that is every bit as good as that combination of words would imply. It's got a fairly formidable soundtrack, and although I was spoiled for choice, the decision ultimately worked out to be pretty easy. Human Voice is the song that I think transforms Anna and the Apocalypse, where the genre-blend goes from novel to having a real impact and the film goes from good to great. Because yes, the film has so much fun with it's festive toetapping blooshed, and numbers like Hollywood Ending and Turning My Life Around are absolute showstoppers, but as the survivors find themselves separated from their loved ones and totally cut off by destroyed phone lines, the film hits a note of striking poignancy

Okay so the commentary is a little on the nose but in context, that's kind of secondary. Yeah the song is kind of about our reliance on technology and total vulnerability if that was stripped away, but what makes Human voice work is the moment of of total openness it lends these characters. This is a crisis, and in this moment of quiet reflection, they're all desperately seeking some kind of comfort. No jokes, no ironic genre-riffing, just a surprising moment of gravity that hits hard because it nearly comes out of nowhere. Add smart lyrics, incredible performances by the whole cast and a sense of genuine despair and you have a real musical kick in the teeth

Seriously though, if you haven't seen Anna and the Apocalypse, do your yourself a favour and take the plunge, It is incredible

5. I Only Have Eyes For You (Dames)

This list was difficult to compile for a number of reasons. Part of this came from the sheer volume of musical numbers in films, but the main thing that really struck me when I put this together is how many ways there are for a musical number to succeed. Some of these songs made the grade for their music, lyrics and general performance, but if you're familiar with Busby Berkley, you'll know exactly why I Only Have Eyes For You is on this list. Because sure, the actual song is a little on the simple side, and from a purely musical level, it's really nothing special. But as we move into the top 5, I'm really looking for the kind of scenes that deliver huge amounts of euphoria. The best of the best, the cream of the crop, the musical numbers that are truly individual. And oh my god is this pure visual overload. Berkley is kind of the master when it comes to intricate choreography, to the point where they were the only scenes he directed in the films he worked on but this is on another level altogether

 

Basically, an impossible huge number of dancers create an intricate routine involving lots and lots of pictures of Ruby Keeler's face, before creating a giant picture of Ruby Keeler's face made out of women who kind of look like Ruby Keeler, but the Keeler overload pays off big time. In between these moments of facial intricacy is a dance routine that can only be described as satisfyingly geometric. Big wheels full of singing women! Stairways to nowhere! Mirror trickery! And then there's the transition to an army of dancers in huge dresses who flip their skirts to form the aforementioned giant portrait of the film's female lead. There is something slightly depressing about Busby Berkley in that nothing on this level would even be attempted now but watching a sequence so gorgeously complicated play out so elegantly is more than enough to remember this golden age of musical intricacy by

4. Good Morning (Singin' in the Rain)

So you're Don Lockwood. Your grand transition to the world of talkies, The Dueling Cavalier, has blown up in your face, leaving you dejected and lost in the middle of the night. But wait! What's this? The morning has come, and a new day has risen, both literally and metaphorically. Singin' in the Rain is one of the greatest films of all time, and certainly one of my favourites, but picking a number to represent it on this list was kind of a no-brainer. I just love how Lockwood and co. find joy after such a low moment, and it's that lovely, cheerful hangout vibe that makes Good Morning so utterly irresistible. It's a shot of pure glee, but what separates it from similarly joyful musical numbers, at least for me, is how much emphasis in places on the importance of finding happiness in misfortune. It's not just a uplifting song, but one that is explicitly about picking yourself up after a mishap and appreciating the start of a new day

I love this one for a few reasons but I think the key to what makes it work is the dancing. That sounds obvious given the general vibe of Singin' in the Rain and the Gene Kelly-ness of it all but it's crucial to making this scene feel like a celebration. Dancing plays a role in all of the film's numbers- giving levity to Make 'Em Laugh, playfulness to Moses Supposes and carrying the entire plot of Broadway Melody- but it feels especially crucial here. Don, Kathy and Cosmo are just so happy in each other's company that they literally can't stay still and choose to dance their problems away rather than dwell on something that can't be changed. I'm also aware that this song wasn't written for the film and actually comes from 1939's Babes in Arms, but I prefer this version, so that's why it's on here. It's just pure, pure joy, a perfect song from a perfect film

3. America (West Side Story)

I said up top that this isn't a list of the most iconic musical numbers, but it was kind of impossible to avoid talking about America at some point. And hey, being famous is no bad thing, and taking a look at this scene in depth, it's not hard to see why it's so beloved. Rita Moreno obviously delivers one of the greatest performances in any film, so bombastic and electric and full of both heart and sly humour. As her Anita convinces Bernard that emigrating to America was the best decision they ever made, he retorts with a series of comebacks that still hold weight 60 years later. Although she's the focal point of the number and passionately pro-America, the real genius of this song is how Anita's perspective is juxtaposed against Bernard's to create a really cutting social comment. Add to that the bouncy Latin percussion and a rhythm that borders on being a guajira, and you've got a seriously punchy musical number

Sondheim's lyrics are the absolute key here, so sharp and sly and powerfully delivered. "Life is alright in America if you're all white in America" is an incredibly effective dig that hits harder now than ever. And that's the beauty of America, and West Side Story as a whole: it's a story that never goes away, and in updating Romeo and Juliet, Ernest Lehman has given the Bard's romance a fresh lick of impossibly relevant paint. America is a great song in an incredible film, and even on top of everything it nails thematically, it's just a really fun sequence. The back-and-forth is playful and fun, the dancing creates such an effortless sense of joy and the music is just irresistibly catchy. What more is there to say? It's West Side Story, it's Steven Sondheim, and it's Rita Moreno

2. Puzzlin' Evidence (True Stories)

Did you know that in 1986, David Byrne made a musical entirely composed of Talking Heads songs, and it's awesome? True Stories is a bit of an oddity, but is utterly glorious all the same. Following Byrne as a sort of wanderer figure arriving in a small town celebrating its 150th anniversary, the beauty of True Stories' numbers lie in their baffling mundanity, ranging from a beautiful rendition of Dream Operator at a mall-set fashion show to a group of kids using makeshift instruments to bang out Papa Legba. But the best, at least in my opinion, is Puzzlin' Evidence, where a wild-eyed preacher spits conspiracy theories on his hapless flock as a yellow-clad choir backs him up with euphoric chanting. It's totally off-kilter and I love every minute of it

Sure it's not most sophisticated or well-choreographed number in the world, but the sheer energy of it, the wild riffs on the Church of the SubGenius and the delightfully bonkers performance of John Ingle is absolutely what makes this such a standout. True Stories is hardly an orthodox entry in the genre but the beauty of Talking Heads has always been that wild experimentation, being able to do something different without calling too much attention to it. There's no slick self-awareness or attempts to mark itself as an innovation, just pure crazy coolness that bounds out of Byrne's brain and hits you straight in the soul, rewriting the very idea of the screen musical in the process. And that's the gospel truth 

1. Think Pink (Funny Face)

It's slightly ironic that the best song in Funny Face- a film that acts as a monument to the star power of Fred Astaire and Audrey Hepburn- doesn't actually feature either of the two leads, but it's hard for me to think of any opening number that sets the scene better than Think Pink. It's just perfect on every level. It's essentially a sly joke about the fashion industry and the way they create trends, using carefully placed suggestions to guide the consumer toward their brand. Even so, there's nothing malicious at work in Think Pink, which even when it is making a comment feels incredibly good natured. Like many of my favourites, there's a lightness and a sense of joy, but this one in particular feels totally tethered to one idea. The theme of "it", the elusive, perfect trait that the fashion industry tries to bottle and sell, is something that's kind of central to Funny Face, and right from the start, the film hits us with a song that feels thematically true before it has time to even set up its plot

The song itself is ace too, with a tight rhyme structure and a bouncy instrumental that keeps things light and breezy. It's an effective tonesetter that stuns even when it's viewed in isolation. I mean, this is how you start a musical, easing the audience into the film's style while also giving the indelible Stanley Donen room to flex his muscles. At this point he had already set the screen alight with impeccable direction in films like On the Town and Singin' in the Rain, but Funny Face is the film that I think really highlights his mission statement in terms of bringing musicals to the screen in a uniquely cinematic way. He makes use of every trick and tool that the medium gives him, from split-screen and jump cuts to animation and intricate staging. It also helps that it's in beautiful technicolor, perfectly establishing the style he'd later perfect in films like Charade

It just ticks all of the boxes. There's obviously no set of criteria for what a musical number should be. One thing I wanted this list to be was a celebration of the genre and the glorious variety it brings with it, but Think Pink is just the perfect scene for me, one that takes every aspect of musical cinema and perfects everything it tries to do. I wouldn't presume to tell my readers what to think, but if you have to think, think Think Pink. I've been the Scoundrel of the Screen, and I do hope you join me for my next list. Word of warning though: it might get weird

My Thoughts on In the Heights

 Lin Manuel Miranda knows a thing or two about dreams. After all, he turned his into two Tony sweeping smash-hits, and has rode the subsequent wave of success to everything from animated Disney smashes to delightful reboots of beloved 60s musicals. Even so, it's important to remember where it all started, which is fortunate, because that's kind of what In the Heights is about. What began as a one-act show written by a 19 year-old Miranda has blossomed into this, a huge big-screen production dancing its way onto the screen as cinemas are slowly coming back from their year-and-a-bit-hiatus. Honestly it's just great to have a musical blockbuster on this scale, especially when it's a quasi-original one like In the Heights. It's proven to be a sure thing on Broadway but the question is this: how well does LMM's ode to Washington Heights translate to screen? Well...

In the Heights tells the story of Usnavi, a put-upon dreamer struggling to keep his Washington Heights bodega open as he yearns to return to the Dominican Republic and revive his family's business. Along the way, we're introduced to a cavalcade of characters, all with their own stories and dreams, and before long, the film has woven a bustling network of players and made the neighbourhood feel positively alive, before complicating it with a mid-film blackout. To say any more would give away some of the film's more impactful notes, but by crafting such a convincing, dynamic world so early on, In the Heights is able to create a compelling narrative from the start, and keep it going over the lengthy but surprisingly warranted runtime

Of course, it wouldn't be much of a musical without songs, and although they're lifted almost directly from the stage, the film utilises each of its tunes to wonderful effect. Miranda stumbles slightly with some of the slower numbers (did we really need two duets from Nina and Benny?), which work fine in the context of the story but struggle to match the power of his more energetic efforts. Thankfully, when he does let rip with his trademark hip-hop-Broadway fusion, it's electric stuff. From the flowing opener to the huge finale, In the Heights has tracks to spare. 96,000 is a glorious ode to dreamers, No Me Diga brings delightful old-school musical charm, and Carnival Del Barrio is an absolute showstopper, but the standout numbers come in the film's second act hat trick. From the alarmingly quick The Club to the stunning Paciencia Y Fe by way of Blackout's punchy intensity, it's a magical 20-ish minute sequence that winds up the movie's greatest emotional blow, and the combination of style and substance is brutally effective

None of this would be possible without the cast, and there really isn't a weak link here. Singling out any of the players is a fool's errand, but special mention to Anthony Ramos as the eyes we view this sweeping tale of a Summer rife with both dreams and frustrations through. The trick of casting actors like Ramos and Olga Merediz-both of whom played their respective roles in stage productions of In the Heights- is a simple one but the film is no less effective for it. The acting is often seamless, carrying the plot where lesser films would buckle under their runtime. And that's the secret of In the Heights: creating a cast of characters that are enjoyable to be around. Especially on a revisit, the pure charisma of the cast means that the few snags it does it are much easier to overlook

Not that there are many issues. Some plots are more interesting than others and the film never really fleshes Vanessa out enough for her emotional beats to really resonate, but the film succeeds in creating this gorgeously immersive vibe that allows it to pick up the slack quickly enough. The pacing is strong, really leaning on plot-heavy scenes to drive the action, but the film always gives itself enough time to step back and admire what it's built. It's just a superb Summer film, one that is able to combine so many flavours and make them all fit together wonderfully. It's an ode to dreamers, a celebration of Latinx identity and a hugely enjoyable hangout film. It enjoys its huge stagey musical numbers but knows when to cut them with some surprisingly stinging social commentary

But the most important and admittedly simple ingredient to making it work is the fact that Usnavi is a really likable character. It sounds basic but it's true, and by putting someone who's so easy to root for at the forefront, it means everything else can just fall into place. It's a big film, not least because it's so connected to its own legacy as a Broadway production, but it's to the credit of everyone involved that In the Heights is just such an engaging experience, one that will only grow on repeat viewings. Fun, smart and heartfelt, it cranks the big screen musical right up to 96,000

★ ★ ★ ★1⁄2