I must admit to being a bit wary of cinema musicals, simply because if you don't like the music, it's unlikely you will enjoy the film. When I saw that La La Land was showing in Bangkok, the prospect of sitting through a "musical romance" did not appeal at all.
But it's won seven Golden Globes, 11 Bafta nominations and rave reviews, so clearly had something going for it. Then a review in the Toronto Sun concluded "I have yet to meet someone who's watched it and come out in a bad mood". So in pursuit of happiness, I succumbed.
I didn't emerge from the cinema in a bad mood, but I wasn't ecstatic either. It was entertaining escapism with creditable performances from Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling, who tinkles the ivories with considerable aplomb.
The limited jazz sequences were fine, but I couldn't get excited about the mainstream songs or the dancing. Which probably means it will sweep the Oscars.
Bangkok's citizens can certainly relate to the opening scene depicting traffic gridlock on the LA freeway. It's comforting to know that America's City of Angels suffers the same plight as Thailand's own angelic metropolis, Krungthep.
In the movie the motorists get out and start dancing on their cars. I would not recommend doing this on Sukhumvit Road unless you want a speedy escort to the funny farm.
Speaking of which, whatever happened to those Thon Buri traffic policemen who danced the ramwong in horrendous jams a few years ago? Hopefully they found their own La La Land.
Song and dance
Like most people of a wrinkly age, the first musicals I saw were the old black and white Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers productions from the 1930s which two decades later became regular festive fare on the BBC.
As a kid, I did not fully appreciate them, partly because I was slumped in an armchair bloated from consuming too much Christmas pudding. But I recall enjoying the elaborate dancing sequences, especially when Astaire was in top hat and tails.
The first musical that actually lured me to the cinema was West Side Story in 1961. That was quite special. The amazing rooftop scene in which the Puerto Ricans sing and dance to America remains imprinted on what's left of my memory cells.
Hanging out in Covent Garden
In 1964 came My Fair Lady, much of which was set in Covent Garden. I had just moved to the London suburbs and Covent Garden quickly achieved an honorary status among my college mates.
It was nothing to do with the film, or the Royal Opera House, or the fruit-and-veg market. But it was one of the few places in town where pubs stayed open all night. Bearing in mind those cultural priorities, it was not surprising that I gave My Fair Lady a miss.
After all we had the Rolling Stones, the Animals and the Kinks. As far as culture was concerned, I was a lost cause
Little did I know that 12 years later I would be writing a review of My Fair Lady for the Bangkok Post.
The musical had just been re-released and I went along to the old Oscar Theatre on New Phetchaburi Road expecting to be quite bored. But I really enjoyed the catchy tunes and brilliant lyrics while watching the transformation of cockney sparrow Audrey Hepburn who "ain't got nufink" into a lady most fair.
But for me the star of the show was Rex Harrison as Henry Higgins, with his masterful interpretation of Why Can't A Woman Be More Like A Man? An army of Thai rodents running around in the cinema also helped with the market atmosphere.
The ghost singer
A mention must be made of the talented but little-known singer Marnie Nixon, who died last year at the age of 86. Marnie provided the singing voice in musicals for many Hollywood stars, often uncredited.
Most of the public thought Deborah Kerr was the sweet voice singing such numbers as Getting To Know You in The King & I, but it was actually Marnie.
I Feel Pretty was a massive hit in West Side Story, but although it was Natalie Wood dancing in front of the mirror, it was Marnie singing.
And in My Fair Lady, Hepburn could not hold a song, so once again it was Marnie you hear on I Could Have Danced All Night and all the Eliza Doolittle songs.
Because of a non-disclosure contract, Marnie had to keep quiet, but the newspapers were aware of her ghost singing and dubbed her somewhat disconcertingly as "the ghostess with the mostest".
Sadly, the only time Marnie received proper recognition was when she passed away. If ever a life story deserved to be a Hollywood musical, it must surely be her remarkable life.
Teacher's pet
One musical that made its mark in Thailand was Oliver!, which was shown in Thailand shortly after its release in 1968. I discovered this in somewhat unorthodox fashion while teaching at a Bangkok college the following year.
The female students always sat in the front rows and, as a lesson drew to a close, one of them politely presented me with some Thai fruit.
As I thanked her, the lads at the back of the class spontaneously started singing the line from Oliver!, "I'd do anything for you, sir", prompting much mirth.
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