I now have an answer to the question, which is the most absurd Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movie ever made? Yes, beating out Follow the Fleet and even the one where Astaire pretends to be Russian, Flying Down to Rio, a truly baffling tale of fops, hotel orchestras and amateur aviation, reaches levels of dadaist insanity in its ridiculous scenario.
A bandleader has eyes for a Brazilian debutante. Scandal! Everyone has private aeroplanes. Naturally! The of-its-era sexism and the of-its-era racism go eye-to-eye to see which can be more flabbergastingly offensive. (The jury is still out on this one.)
The big finish (the one that saves the hotel from the evil Greeks with English accents) is a chorus of dancing girls bopping around on top of planes! Never mind that the audience down below sees only the underside of the aircrafts as they circle above.
All told, something that truly needs to be seen to be believed.
