The above dance number from ‘Party Girl’ (1958, directed by Nicholas Ray) may be the most stunning display of the inimitable Cyd’s virtuosic grace mixed with astonishing athleticism–a combo that I don’t think I’ve ever seen surpassed–captured on film. As you can see from this weeks obsessive postings I’ve been a serious Cyd admirer (which means I speak ‘Cyd-Ish’) for years and have only ever been nagged by one grating question about her: how the hell did she wind up stuck with Tony Martin and why did she stay? The mediocre, philandering, draft-evading meatball romantic lead of the Marx Brothers worst movie was clearly the luckiest chump in Hollywood and for some reason I have a feeling he looked upon her the way Robert Taylor looks at Cyd when they cut to him at the nightclub table scowling. Whatever. I need to let that go. As long as Cyd was happy, I’m happy…maybe…



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