You're watching a wonderful '50s musical starring Gene Kelly. It doesn't look like he's going to get the girl in the end, so you're kind of bummed, but the dance numbers were delightful and the songs were catchy as all get-out. You'll be okay. Then WHAM! You're hit with a seventeen-minute jazz-classical ballet set against a backdrop of famous French paintings. Oh yeah, and it's taking place entirely in somebody's head.

If the An American in Paris Ballet left you scratching your head the first time you saw it, you're not alone. It's a gorgeous, gonzo set-piece that appears seemingly out of nowhere. Here's the thing, though: there's a method to its madness.

Jerry's dream sequence is his way of working through his sadness over losing Lise, as well as his frustrations about his painting career. It's a fantasy world he creates to cope with a reality that's served him a glass of flat champagne with a side of really, really bad day.

At that point in the movie, for Jerry, real life thoroughly stinks, so he retreats within his own mind and releases his tension through color and movement. The ballet sequence is a catharsis, which is a fancy way of saying that it's Jerry's method for blowing off some emotional steam.

When you think about it, it's not that different from how you might crank up some Kanye and go for a run after you fail your Geometry test and find out your best friend's going to skip your birthday party to go to Olive Garden with your ex. Instead of sweating out his frustration and spitting some angry rhymes, Jerry drops himself into some fancy French masterpieces and dances through his pain. Sure, there's no endless breadsticks, but, fundamentally, it's the same thing.