Oh, this one hurts.
The rap on Cyd Charisse was that she was a far better dancer than an actress, but I don't care what you say: The lady had presence. When that endless leg stretched out before Gene Kelly's dazzled eyes in "Singin' in the Rain," you knew a star was being born.
Like all the pure dancers of Hollywood -- Astaire, Kelly, Eleanor Powell -- Charisse expressed persona through movement rather than dialogue, and in her case that persona was smoky, sinuous, and cool: a quintessential 50s mix of sex and poise. She was the choreographic equivalent of a classic Sinatra LP.
She also had one of the great Hollywood birth names: Tula Ellice Finklea. Born in Amarillo, Texas, and nicknamed "Sid" by a brother who couldn't pronounce "Sis," she moved to Hollywood when she was young to study ballet. After dancing with the Ballets Russes and a first marriage to her teacher, Nico Charisse, in Paris, Charisse made the move into film, starting with 1943's "Something to Shout About." (It wasn't.)
It was her dance number with Astaire in 1946's "Ziegfeld Follies" (here's a link to the video; Charisse turns up about 1:30 in) that made audiences sit up and wonder who the hell was dancing with Fred. She still had to wait six more years, until the climactic "Broadway Melody" setpiece of "Singin' in the Rain," to become a full-fledged household name. After that it was more Astaire ("The Band Wagon," "Silk Stockings") and more Kelly ("Brigadoon," "It's Always Fair Weather"), and a 60-year marriage to singer Tony Martin, who survives her. Feast your eyes on the Mickey Spillane-derived "Girl Hunt Ballet" number from "Band Wagon":
Class is what she had, and legs as long as Manhattan. Of all her movies, the one I treasure most is 1955's "It's Always Fair Weather" -- the dark, dyspeptic answer-musical to "Singin' in the Rain" -- in which Charisse entertains a gym full of pug-faced boxers who toss her around the ring in delight and sing "Baby, You Knock Me Out." That she did. Behold -- we were not worthy.
