
Viva Las Vegas
Elvis Presley made thirty-one films and only this one holds up: Ann-Margret matches him move for move, the studio got nervous about it, and the title song outlived everything.

Elvis Presley made thirty-one films and only this one holds up: Ann-Margret matches him move for move, the studio got nervous about it, and the title song outlived everything.

It won all nine awards it was nominated for, the biggest clean sweep the Oscars had seen: Lerner and Loewe wrote it straight for the screen, and Paris in 1900 looks fabulously expensive.

The first film shot in VistaVision, which was invented to compete with CinemaScope: Bing Crosby sings a song he had already made famous twelve years earlier, and it still works.

The puppetry is entirely straight-faced and never winks: Trey Parker and Matt Stone spent a fortune on marionettes so they could aim a Jerry Bruckheimer parody at absolutely everyone.

Astaire and Rogers never danced better than in the last number here, which they shot until her feet bled: the plot is nonsense and the dancing is the argument for the whole genre.

It is a musical written by people who love musicals: Trey Parker and the composer Marc Shaiman took an Oscar nomination for a song nobody could print, and the censorship satire is exact.

It held the record for cars destroyed on film and works as a music documentary besides: Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, James Brown and Cab Calloway all get a full number.

The Marx Brothers at their fastest and most anarchic, and they left Paramount soon after it underperformed: the mirror sequence has been stolen by everybody in comedy since.

Nothing else on film is this happy, and the subject is an industry in a panic: Hollywood's terror at the arrival of sound became two hours of pure delight.