At one point in the picture, Judy and Fred Astaire are walking down the street, and she wants to prove she’s as good whistle-bait as the next one, so he drops behind and tells her to show him. At first nothing happens, then all of a sudden, surprise! The heads start turning and you get the close-up of Judy pulling this face. The Bloopface, we used to call it. A little thing Judy stitched up one afternoon…
We were three kids in the back seat of the car. Nothing much on our minds. “Let’s see who can make the most horrible face”, said Susie.
Her contribution and mine are gone with the wind. But we both wound up hysterical over Judy, sitting there with her eyes crossed and her cheeks ballooned and the tongue-tip sticking out, sober as a judge. It was always like that. Judy could fracture Susie and me, playing it straight.
Just then the signals change, Daddy pulls up, and quick as a wink Judy has her face through the window. Folks in the next car do a bug-eyed double-take, but by the time mother turns round to see what goes, our little pet’s snoozing peacefully in her corner. Anyhow, that’s when the Bloopface started, and for years we used it to scare people in cars. Then we grew up and forgot it, till Judy pulled it out for this scene in Easter Parade.
— An excerpt from Jimmie Garland’s article, “Bloopface and the Babe” from Modern Screen, October 1948. [x]