Some films, including Rhapsody in Blue succeed very much in spite of themselves. Rhapsody should by no means be as good as it is. Like so many other biopics of the period (and today), Rhapsody plays very fast and very loose with the facts and has very little value as biography. The screenplay is a string of clichés, and filled with uninspired dialogue spouted by characters that, if not cardboard, are still not flesh-and-blood. And while Robert Alda has some of Gershwin's appeal, he doesn't give the kind of galvanizing performance that is required. And yet Rhapsody is still an enthralling film -- because of the music. The music is so powerful, so full of life, so full of the man who wrote it that one willingly waits through the predictable story, just so one can experience those glorious sounds. The performances of that music varies, although none of them are bad. Among the vocalists, Al Jolson, even though past his peak, and Hazel Scott win top honors, with Jolson tearing up the screen with "Swanee" and Scott simply sublime with "The Man I Love." Purists may quibble somewhat with the performance of the title concerto, as well as "An American in Paris" and "Concerto in F"; they're abridged, the orchestrations are not exactly as Gershwin envisioned, etc. But most will find them mesmerizing. The Porgy & Bess segment is a delight, and the "Blue Monday" suite will come as a surprise to many. Alda gets some fine support from Alexis Smith, and some lesser support from Joan Leslie, neither of whom has much of a part to play. And Oscar Levant is on hand to provide his unique brand of humor. Rhapsody has a few too many lulls, but as soon as the orchestra starts playing any of its songs, it comes to brilliant life.