Editing Top Hat (section)

==Musical numbers and choreography==
The choreography, in which Astaire was assisted by [[Hermes Pan (choreographer)|Hermes Pan]], is principally concerned throughout with the possibilities of using taps to make as much noise as possible.<ref name="Mueller" /> In the film, Astaire suffers from what Rogers terms an "affliction": "Every once in a while I suddenly find myself dancing." Astaire introduces the film's tap motif when he blasts a tap barrage at the somnolent members of a London Club.<ref name="Mueller" /><ref>Croce (1972), p.57: "the dance technique is an element in the characterization. Jerry Travers is literally footloose, he's bumptious, he's a disturber of the peace." Also Mueller (1986), p.78: "this urge becomes a motif in the film as Astaire's dancing feet, usually irritating somebody or other, send the plot skittering along."</ref> There are eight musical numbers.

In the "Opening Sequence", after the RKO logo appears, Astaire, shown only from the waist down, dances onto a polished stage floor, backed by a male chorus sporting canes. On pausing his name appears. Rogers then follows suit and the two dance together as the picture dissolves to reveal a top hat. A similar concept was used in the opening sequence of ''[[The Barkleys of Broadway]]'' (1949).

The second is "[[No Strings (I'm Fancy Free)]]".  On retiring to his hotel suite, Horton advises him to get married. Astaire declares his preference for bachelorhood and the song—this number was the brainchild of scriptwriter Dwight Taylor and is found in his earliest drafts—emerges naturally and in mid-sentence. Astaire sings it through twice<ref>As Mueller notes, repeating a song was extremely unusual for Astaire, who by way of variation, mixes two drinks during the repetition</ref> and during the last phrase leaps into a ballet jump, accompanied by leg beats, and launches into a short solo dance that builds in intensity and volume progressing from tap shuffles ''sur place'', via traveling patterns, to rapid-fire heel jabs finishing with a carefree tour of the suite during which he beats on the furniture with his hands. On his return to the center of the room, where he noisily concentrates his tap barrage, the camera cranes down to discover Rogers in bed, awake and irritated.<ref>Described by Croce (1972), p.59 as "rising from her satin pillows, like an angry [[naiad]] from the foam.". This scene is also referenced in [[Bernardo Bertolucci]]'s 2003 film ''[[The Dreamers (2003 film)|The Dreamers]]''.</ref> As she makes her way upstairs, Horton fields telephone complaints from hotel management. Astaire incorporates this into his routine, first startling him with a tap burst then escorting him ostentatiously to the telephone. As Horton leaves to investigate, Astaire continues to hammer his way around the suite, during which he feigns horror at seeing his image in a mirror—a reference to his belief that the camera was never kind to his face. The routine ends as Astaire, now dancing with a statue, is interrupted by Rogers' entrance,<ref name="Mueller" /> a scene which, as in ''[[The Gay Divorcee]]'' and ''[[Roberta (1935 film)|Roberta]]'', typifies the way in which Astaire inadvertently incurs the hostility of Rogers, only to find her attractive and wear down her resistance.<ref name="Hyam" />

In "No Strings (reprise)", Rogers, after storming upstairs to complain, returns to her room at which point Astaire, still intent on dancing, nominates himself her "[[sandman]]", sprinkling sand from a [[cigarette receptacle]] and lulling her, Horton and eventually himself to sleep with a soft and gentle sand dance, to a ''diminuendo'' reprise of the melody, in a scene which has drawn considerable admiration from dance commentators,<ref name=mueller80>Mueller (1986), p.80: "at once tender and erotic...This scene is one of the most memorable in Astaire's career," and Croce (1972), p.59: "in the movie's sexiest scene, dances...with caressive little strokes."</ref> and has been the subject of affectionate screen parodies.<ref>In his 1936 comedy short ''Grand Slam Opera'' [[Buster Keaton]] parodies the entire "No Strings" number</ref>

In "[[Isn't This a Lovely Day?|Isn't This a Lovely Day (to be Caught in the Rain)]]", while Rogers is out riding, a thunderstorm breaks<ref>The script originally called for a scene in a zoo, but as Berlin provided this song, the script was adapted accordingly. cf. Mueller (1986), p.80</ref> and she takes shelter in a bandstand. Astaire follows her and a conversation about clouds and rainfall soon gives way to Astaire's rendering of this, one of Berlin's most prized creations. Astaire sings to Rogers' back, but the audience can see that Rogers' attitude towards him softens during the song, and the purpose of the ensuing dance is for her to communicate this change to her partner.<ref name="Mueller"/> The dance is one of flirtation and, according to Mueller, deploys two choreographic devices common to the classical [[minuet]]: sequential imitation (one dancer performs a step and the other responds) and touching. Initially, the imitation is mocking in character, then becomes more of a casual exchange, and ends in a spirit of true cooperation. Until the last thirty seconds of this two and a half minute dance the pair appear to pull back from touching, then with a crook of her elbow Rogers invites Astaire in.<ref>Croce (1972), p.62: "that ecstatic embrace when they pivot together in a wide circle all around the stage...a shining moment in the history of the musical film."</ref> The routine, at once comic and romantic, incorporates hopping steps, tap spins with barrages, loping and dragging steps among its many innovative devices. The spirit of equality which pervades the dance is reflected in the masculinity of Rogers' clothes and in the friendly handshake they exchange at the end.<ref name="Mueller"/>

For "[[Top Hat, White Tie and Tails]]", probably Astaire's most celebrated<ref>Hyam (2007), p.104: "It epitomises the elegance and sophistication that are synonymous with his name."</ref> [[Fred Astaire's solo and partnered dances|tap solo]], the idea for the title song came from Astaire who described to Berlin a routine he had created for the 1930 Ziegfeld Broadway flop ''Smiles'' called "Say, Young Man of Manhattan," in which he gunned down a chorus of men—which included a young [[Bob Hope]] and [[Larry Adler]]<ref name="Billman"/>—with his cane.<ref>Astaire recounts how he got the idea at 4.00 a.m. and woke his sister [[Adele Astaire|Adele]] as he cavorted around his bedroom with an umbrella. After explaining to his awakened sister that he had just had an idea for the Manhattan number, she replied: "Well, hang on to it, baby—you're going to need it in this turkey." cf. Astaire, p.184</ref> Berlin duly produced the song from his trunk and the concept of the film was then built around it. In this number Astaire had to compromise on his one-take philosophy, as Sandrich acknowledged: "We went to huge lengths to make the 'Top Hat' number look like one take, but actually it's several."<ref name="Satchell">{{cite book
  | last = Satchell
  | first = Tim
  | title = Astaire: The biography
  | publisher = Hutchinson
  | year = 1987
  | location = London
  | page =128
  | isbn = 0-09-173736-2 }}</ref> Astaire's remarkable ability to change the tempo within a single dance phrase is extensively featured throughout this routine and taken to extremes—as when he explodes into activity from a pose of complete quiet and vice versa.<ref name="Mueller" /> This routine also marks Astaire's first use of a cane as a prop in one of his filmed dances.<ref>Mueller (1986), p.16: "Trudy Wellman, a secretary who worked on ''Top Hat'' recalls: 'He gets very annoyed with himself, just himself....He would take that cane and he would break it across his knee, just like that, and, of course, we were all shocked because we knew we only had 13 canes....It was a good thing we had that 13th cane because that was the take we printed.'"</ref> The number opens with a chorus strutting and lunging in front of a backdrop of a Parisian street scene. They make way for Astaire who strides confidently to the front of the stage and delivers the song, which features the famous line: "I'm stepping out, my dear, to breathe an atmosphere that simply reeks with class," trading the occasional tap barrage with the chorus as he sings. The dance begins with Astaire and chorus moving in step. Astaire soon lashes out with a swirling tap step and the chorus responds timidly before leaving the stage in a sequence of overlapping, direction-shifting, hitch steps and walks. In the first part of the solo which follows, Astaire embarks on a circular tap movement, embellished with cane taps into which he mixes a series of unpredictable pauses. As the camera retreats the lights dim and, in the ''misterioso'' passage which follows, Astaire mimes a series of stances, ranging from overt friendliness, wariness, surprise to watchful readiness and jaunty confidence.<ref name="Mueller"/> [[James Cagney|Jimmy Cagney]] attended the shooting of this scene and advised Astaire, who claims to have ad-libbed much of this section.<ref>Astaire, p. 210: "Jimmy watched and whispered to me after about the third take, 'Don't shoot it again, kid—you got it on the second take. You'll never top that one.' I insisted on one more, but Jimmy was right. Next morning when I saw the rushes, that second take was the one."</ref> The chorus then returns in a threatening posture, and Astaire proceeds to dispatch them all, using an inventive series of actions miming the cane's use as a gun, a submachine gun, a rifle and, finally, a bow and arrow.<ref>This sequence was parodied in a scene in [[Mel Brooks]]' ''[[Young Frankenstein]]''.</ref>

[[Image:Astaire Rogers Cheek to Cheek.jpg|right|thumb|225px|The final supported backbend—Astaire and Rogers in the climax to "Cheek to Cheek"]]

Astaire's first seduction of Rogers in "Isn't This a Lovely Day," falls foul of the mistaken-identity theme of the plot, so he makes a second attempt, encouraged by Broderick, in the number "[[Cheek to Cheek]]". As in "No Strings," the song emerges from Astaire's mid-sentence as he dances with the hesitant Rogers on a crowded floor. Berlin wrote the words and music to this enduring classic in one day, and, at 72 measures, it is the longest song he ever wrote.<ref name="Billman" /> He was very appreciative of Astaire's treatment of the song: "The melody keeps going up and up. He crept up there. It didn't make a damned bit of difference. He made it."<ref name="Mueller"/> As he navigates through this difficult material, Rogers looks attracted and receptive and, at the end of the song, they dance cheek to cheek across a bridge to a deserted ballroom area nearby. According to Mueller's analysis, the duet that follows—easily the most famous of all the [[Fred Astaire's solo and partnered dances#Dances grouped by dance partner|Astaire-Rogers partnered dances]]<ref>This did not dissuade Croce from describing it as "a bit too ritzy, a bit too consciously "poised"." For a comparison of critical opinions see Hyam (2007), pp. 205, 207</ref>—reflects the complexity of the emotional situation in which the pair find themselves. No longer flirting, as in "Isn't This a Lovely Day?," the pair are now in love. But Rogers feels guilty and deceived and would prefer to avoid Astaire's advances—in effect, fall out of love with him. Therefore, Astaire's purpose here is to make her put aside her misgivings (which are a mystery to him) and surrender completely to him. The choreographic device introduced to reflect the progress of this seduction is the supported backbend, exploiting Rogers' exceptionally flexible back. The main dance begins with the first of two brief passages which reuse the device of sequential imitation introduced in "Isn't This a Lovely Day?". The pair spin and lean, dodging back and forth past each other before moving into a standard ballroom position where the first hints of the supported backbend are introduced. The first backbend occurs at the end of a sequence where Astaire sends Rogers into a spin, collects her upstage and maneuvers her into a linked-arm stroll forward, repeats the spin but this time encircles her while she turns and then takes her in his arms. As the music becomes more energetic, the dancers flow across the floor and Rogers, moving against the music, suddenly falls into a deeper backbend, which is then repeated, only deeper still. The music now transitions to a quiet recapitulation of the main melody during which the pair engage in a muted and tender partnering, and here the second passage involving sequential imitation appears. With the music reaching its grand climax Astaire and Rogers rush toward the camera, then away in a series of bold, dramatic manoeuvers culminating in three ballroom lifts which showcase Rogers' dress<ref>Hyam (2007), p.205: "Rogers' feathered dress creates dazzling spirals of white."</ref> before abruptly coming to a halt in a final, deepest backbend, maintained as the music approaches its closing bars. They rise, and after a couple of turns dancing cheek to cheek for the first time since the dance began, come to rest next to a wall. Rogers, having conducted the dance in a state of dreamlike abandon now glances uneasily at Astaire before walking away, as if reminded that their relationship cannot proceed.<ref name="Hyam"/><ref>Dance description principally condensed and adapted from Mueller (1986), pp.83–86</ref>

By now, Rogers has learned Astaire's true identity although neither of them yet know that her impulsive marriage to Rhodes is null and void. Dining together during carnival night in Venice, and to help assuage her guilt, Astaire declares: "Let's eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we have to face him," which serves as the cue for the music of "The Piccolino", the film's big production number. A gondola parade is followed by the entry of a dancing chorus who perform a series of ballroom poses and rippling-pattern routines choreographed by Hermes Pan. Berlin, who lavished a great deal of effort on the song<ref>Mueller (1986), p.87: "I love it, the way you love a child that you've had trouble with. I worked harder on 'Piccolino' than I did on the whole ''Top Hat'' score."</ref> designed it as a [[pastiche]] of "The Carioca" from ''[[Flying Down to Rio]]'' (1933) and "[[The Continental (song)|The Continental]]" from ''[[The Gay Divorcee]]'' (1934),<ref>Unlike its predecessors, "The Piccolino" never became a national craze. cf. Mueller (1986), p.86</ref> and the lyric communicates its fake origin: "It was written by a Latin/A gondolier who sat in/his home out in [[Brooklyn]]/and gazed at the stars."<ref name="Croce"/> It is a song about a song<ref>Croce (1972), p.75: "When Pan objected that Berlin's lyric was about a song rather than a dance ('Come to the Casino/ And hear them play the Piccolino'), Berlin suggested that the dance could be called 'The Lido,' and then the lyric could run 'Come and do the Lido / It's very good for your libido.'"</ref> and Rogers sings it to Astaire<ref>Hyam (2007), p.121: "a thoroughly appealing performance, lively and expressive without any suspicion of exaggeration." Also Mueller (1986), p.86: "a lively rendition"</ref> after which an off-camera chorus repeats it while the dance ensemble is photographed, [[Busby Berkeley]]-style, from above. The camera then switches to Rogers and Astaire who bound down to the stage to perform a two-minute dance—all shot in one take—with the Astaire-Pan choreography separately referencing the basic melody and the [[vamp (music)|Latin vamp]] in the accompaniment.<ref name="Mueller"/> They dance to the accompaniment as they descend the steps and glide along the dance floor, then, when the melody enters, they halt and perform the Piccolino step, which involves the feet darting out to the side of the body. The rest of the dance involves repetitions and variations of the Piccolino step and the hopping steps associated with the vamp, leading to some complex amalgamations of the two. On the vamp melody's final appearance, the dancers perform a highly embellished form of the Piccolino step as they travel sideways back to their table, sinking back into their chairs and lifting their glasses in a toast.<ref name="Mueller"/>

"The Piccolino (reprise)": After the various parties confront each other in the bridal suite, with Rogers' "marriage" to Rhodes revealed as performed by a fake clergyman, the scene is set for Astaire and Rogers to dance into the sunset, which they duly do, in this fragment of a much longer duet—the original was cut after the July 1935 previews—but not before they parade across the Venetian set and reprise the Piccolino step.