Irene Castle was a paid consultant for this movie. Pandro Berman, Rogers and Astaire were unfailingly polite about her but the fact is, she displayed extreme unprofessionalism throughout the entire episode.
Castle loudly wanted someone other than Rogers to perform as Irene had been when she was much younger - as she had been 20 years before. She complained about dresses, shoes, and hairstyle. Rogers, who had been a flapper in Vaudeville and Broadway in the 1920s with hairstyles to match, had used scores of different styles including wigs in her forty films. She understood her audiences so completely that she was a fashion icon for nearly fifty years. Her views were completely supported by director, producer, and executives. In interviews much later Berman said he believed these disruptions by Castle were a ploy so that she herself could play the role, an idea which he dismissed out of hand. If Castle couldn't understand that Ginger Rogers was enormously more influential, stylish, and popular than Irene had ever been, the studio and the public certainly did.
Castle also didn't understand the dynamics at RKO or those between Rogers and Astaire.
Astaire, who in spite of his shy personality had an enormous ego (rightly so, his dancing is still unparalleled), probably agreed with Irene about a different partner, but for different reasons. Rogers had shown Fred the ropes of acting before a camera, and had always been much the better actor. Her effortless shifts from one character to the next (Honey Hale to Countess Sharwenka to Amanda Cooper and Irene Castle) are quite beyond Astaire's ability and indeed are unmatched by ANY actor in musical film history.
By 1935, Rogers had surpassed Astaire in popularity; by 1936's "Swing Time," she was carrying their films. Fred Astaire got critical acclaim for their movies, but it was Ginger Rogers who received the standing ovations of arenas and stadiums in Dallas and Chicago and New York. By 1937 her solo career was more successful, and more important, than was her partnership with Fred. For 1938's "Carefree" the studio wasn't using Astaire because he was the best actor for the part but because he was under contract and they had nothing else for him. That film would have been much better - and probably would have actually made money - as a straight screwball comedy with the dances dropped and Astaire replaced with a leading actor of Ginger's ability and charisma (put Cary Grant or Jimmy Cagney across from Ginger Rogers in "Carefree" and it would have instantly become one of the greatest films ever produced). It is a famous legend that Astaire's one-word telegram to Ginger - Ouch - was sent after she won a Best Actress award. Actually as the trade journals reported at the time, Astaire sent it in 1938, after seeing the box office numbers and profits of "Carefree" compared to "Vivacious Lady."
So it was that by 1939 Astaire's career arc looked like the flight of an arrow shot almost vertically into the air; straight up, a teeter at the top, and plunging rapidly back to earth. He'd been labeled box office poison by Time magazine and, while he recovered and made many more great films, from first to last Fred Astaire never had a hit without a top flight star above the title with him. By comparison, Ginger's career arc looked like a space ship that had already escaped gravity and was leaving the solar system. Her solo movies were carrying not only Astaire but, through block-booking, almost all of RKO Studios. Her hits from 1940 to 1945 were bigger than any Rogers-Astaire movie.
Beyond these simple box office mathematics and trajectories, Ginger Rogers was the only actress, certainly in Hollywood and possibly in America, who was capable of performing the role. Dancing with Astaire was never an easy task. With Joan Fantaine in the flop "Damsel in Distress" Astaire had already satisfied studio, critics and public that he couldn't carry a movie even with a fine actress. He had to have a full partner. At a stroke, this fact ruled out almost all of the talent in Hollywood. Actresses such as Alice Faye, Jeannette MacDonald, or Irene Dunne, were fine actors with great voices but were only average dancers, if they danced at all; Eleanor Powell was a fine dancer but didn't sing and was a mediocre actress; Betty Grable was far too young for the already middle-aged Astaire. It had to be Ginger, and everybody knew it.
In the last analysis, Irene Castle's complaints reflect poorly upon nobody but Irene Castle.
Castle loudly wanted someone other than Rogers to perform as Irene had been when she was much younger - as she had been 20 years before. She complained about dresses, shoes, and hairstyle. Rogers, who had been a flapper in Vaudeville and Broadway in the 1920s with hairstyles to match, had used scores of different styles including wigs in her forty films. She understood her audiences so completely that she was a fashion icon for nearly fifty years. Her views were completely supported by director, producer, and executives. In interviews much later Berman said he believed these disruptions by Castle were a ploy so that she herself could play the role, an idea which he dismissed out of hand. If Castle couldn't understand that Ginger Rogers was enormously more influential, stylish, and popular than Irene had ever been, the studio and the public certainly did.
Castle also didn't understand the dynamics at RKO or those between Rogers and Astaire.
Astaire, who in spite of his shy personality had an enormous ego (rightly so, his dancing is still unparalleled), probably agreed with Irene about a different partner, but for different reasons. Rogers had shown Fred the ropes of acting before a camera, and had always been much the better actor. Her effortless shifts from one character to the next (Honey Hale to Countess Sharwenka to Amanda Cooper and Irene Castle) are quite beyond Astaire's ability and indeed are unmatched by ANY actor in musical film history.
By 1935, Rogers had surpassed Astaire in popularity; by 1936's "Swing Time," she was carrying their films. Fred Astaire got critical acclaim for their movies, but it was Ginger Rogers who received the standing ovations of arenas and stadiums in Dallas and Chicago and New York. By 1937 her solo career was more successful, and more important, than was her partnership with Fred. For 1938's "Carefree" the studio wasn't using Astaire because he was the best actor for the part but because he was under contract and they had nothing else for him. That film would have been much better - and probably would have actually made money - as a straight screwball comedy with the dances dropped and Astaire replaced with a leading actor of Ginger's ability and charisma (put Cary Grant or Jimmy Cagney across from Ginger Rogers in "Carefree" and it would have instantly become one of the greatest films ever produced). It is a famous legend that Astaire's one-word telegram to Ginger - Ouch - was sent after she won a Best Actress award. Actually as the trade journals reported at the time, Astaire sent it in 1938, after seeing the box office numbers and profits of "Carefree" compared to "Vivacious Lady."
So it was that by 1939 Astaire's career arc looked like the flight of an arrow shot almost vertically into the air; straight up, a teeter at the top, and plunging rapidly back to earth. He'd been labeled box office poison by Time magazine and, while he recovered and made many more great films, from first to last Fred Astaire never had a hit without a top flight star above the title with him. By comparison, Ginger's career arc looked like a space ship that had already escaped gravity and was leaving the solar system. Her solo movies were carrying not only Astaire but, through block-booking, almost all of RKO Studios. Her hits from 1940 to 1945 were bigger than any Rogers-Astaire movie.
Beyond these simple box office mathematics and trajectories, Ginger Rogers was the only actress, certainly in Hollywood and possibly in America, who was capable of performing the role. Dancing with Astaire was never an easy task. With Joan Fantaine in the flop "Damsel in Distress" Astaire had already satisfied studio, critics and public that he couldn't carry a movie even with a fine actress. He had to have a full partner. At a stroke, this fact ruled out almost all of the talent in Hollywood. Actresses such as Alice Faye, Jeannette MacDonald, or Irene Dunne, were fine actors with great voices but were only average dancers, if they danced at all; Eleanor Powell was a fine dancer but didn't sing and was a mediocre actress; Betty Grable was far too young for the already middle-aged Astaire. It had to be Ginger, and everybody knew it.
In the last analysis, Irene Castle's complaints reflect poorly upon nobody but Irene Castle.