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Broadway Melody of 1940 (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer). An uplifting little tale of backstage unselfishness among the hoofers is mounted with the same gorgeousness, but minus the bounce of Broadway-Melodies of 1936 and 1938. This year emphasis on the male lead has been shifted from glamor (Robert Taylor) to talent (Fred Astaire). With George Murphy and Eleanor Powell (survivor of the two previous Melodies), Astaire taps his way through a half-dozen nimble numbers, including Begin the Beguine, some more recent, less inspired Cole Porter tunes. Frank Morgan chases ungrateful files de joie, who try to make off with the ermine wrap he lends them (for the evening). An uncredited comedienne (Charlotte Arren) squawks Arditi's Il Bacio as it has never been squawked before. But the best part of Broadway Melody of 1940, as of any other Astaire picture is Fred Astaire dancing as if he really enjoyed dancing.

I Take This Woman (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer). This Hollywood Hedy-ache began as a laudable endeavor to bring glamorous Miss Lamarr and her palpitant public face to face again. The first shooting was generally conceded to be so awful that after investing $900,000, the studio temporarily pushed it far back on the shelf while Spencer Tracy made Stanley and Livingstone, producers made changes in the cast, the direction, the Charles MacArthur script. Face-saving retakes cost some $500,000. Result: an entertainment hangover throbbing with the self-evident truism that Hedy Lamarr is quite an eyeful.

Sidewalks of London (Mayflower). Cinema, in one of its narcissistic fits, has another look at how a star is born. This time the delivery which occurs among the buskers (London sidewalk entertainers), is less interesting than the star, who is Vivien Leigh. For Cinemactress Leigh Sidewalks of London (made a year or so before Gone With the Wind entered its delayed birth pangs) must have been a dress rehearsal. Liberty (Vivien Leigh), the saucy, thieving cockney orphan, who selfishly climbs to stardom with the help of Charles Laughton, is Scarlett O'Hara's little sister under the grease paint. Smart Director Tim Whelan (Clouds over Europe) succeeds in making the atmosphere so realistically London that U. S. cinemaddicts have some trouble getting through the dialectical fog.

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