So, here's the thing. When I was a little girl, I wanted to grow up and marry Gene Kelly.
I would sit down on the couch with my dad and lose myself in classics like Singin' in the Rain, An American in Paris, and Brigadoon. If I couldn't marry him, then at least I wanted to be Cyd Charisse so I could taste his sweet, sweet, entirely heterosexual kisses. Later, when I watched an aged Gene Kelly in Xanadu, I knew he still had the magic, even if the movie was awful (awfully, unintentionally hilarious, that is).
I remember listening to the news in 1996 and learning that he had died, and it was tragic.
He is a legend. And I will unabashedly pronounce that Glee shat upon his work in their most recent episode by mashing up "Singin' in the Rain" with Rihanna's "Umbrella." And Gwyneth Paltrow, for God's sake.
And so I ask you, Glee producers, plaintively, beseechingly:
What. The. Fuck.