42nd Street.

Review #1340: 42nd Street.

Cast: 
Warner Baxter (Julian Marsh), Bebe Daniels (Dorothy Brock), George Brent (Pat Denning), Ruby Keeler (Peggy Sawyer), Guy Kibbee (Abner Dillon), Una Merkel (Lorraine Fleming), Ginger Rogers (Ann Lowell), Ned Sparks (Barry), Dick Powell (Billy Lawler), Allen Jenkins (Mac Elroy, the stage manager), and Edward J. Nugent (Terry) Directed by Lloyd Bacon (#562 - It Happens Every Spring and #898 - Larceny, Inc)

Review: 
"Sawyer, you're going out a youngster, but you've got to come back a star!"

For the 1930s, the musical had numerous phases of development. Film had gone a long way from musical short films in the earlier half of the 1920s to The Jazz Singer (1927) to The Broadway Melody (1929) and so on, with ones even done in color. However, the craze of doing musicals had stalled quickly in 1931, owing to over-saturation in the market. Of course this small lull would not last long, it just needed some evolution. One key figure in contributing the remedy was Busby Berkeley. By the time of the 1920s, he had already been a field artillery lieutenant in World War I before becoming a dance director and choreographer on Broadway musicals such as A Connecticut Yankee, which were known for their complex choreography. His film choreography career started with Whoopee! (1930), and he would soon be known for his distinct arrangements, which were usually large and/or geometric, complete with a "parade of faces" (kind close-ups of chorus girls distinctly). Berkeley spent 1933 on several films (including his directorial debut with She Had to Say Yes), with Footlight Parade (also directed by Bacon), Gold Diggers of 1933, and this film all turning out to be major successes for Warner Bros, each of which ranking in the top ten in the box office for 1933. His career would continue for the rest of the decade, serving as both choreographer and director on several films, with his last credit being Billy Rose's Jumbo (1962). Who better to do a film like this than Lloyd Bacon, who had previous experience in musical films such as The Singing Fool (1928). The film, as you might expect, is adapted from a novel of the same name by Bradford Ropes, with the screenplay from Rian James, James Seymour, and Whitney Bolton, while Harry Warren and Al Dubin contributed the music and lyrics, respectively. This material would later turn into a hit musical for Broadway in 1980, which ran for nine years.

All of this background material goes to show what you can say about an interesting film when your curiosity is stimulated. This is an entertaining backstage musical, full of rough ambitious energy with a game ensemble cast (a mix of established actors and newcomers) and a reasonable pace at 89 minutes that finds time for some fairly charming songs and a bit of plot to go with it. Simply put, it is a prime musical for its era, lively without seeming too stagey that had plagued other musicals before. Baxter carries the ship with careful control, a man filled with desperate energy that is burning to the last flicker of a waning flame, a familiar type if you've ever seen someone trying to manage people to some form of success. Daniels does reasonably well with her role, doing a fair bit of dancing and having fair chemistry with Brent, who pulls the thin romance off just fine for what is needed. Keeler shows enough spunk for a film debut (her first film appearance had been a cameo in Show Girl in Hollywood three years prior) to make you interested in her path and see her sing her way through. Kibbee certainly works fine with bluster for the brief time one sees him speak. Merkel and Rogers deliver a chuckle or two before doing their part on the stage with singing. In any case, the real spectacle of the show is Berkeley's choreography, most notably with a tracking shot done between the legs of the dancers until it reveals Powell and an un-credited Toby Wing. Other highlights include the "Shuffle Off to Buffalo" sequence, a catchy tune that soon shows a train compartment opening up to reveal plenty more cast mates behind it while showing a shot of the orchestra and audience viewing it (or at least that's what the camera wants you to see). The black backgrounds help when showing the geometric part of the dance numbers, which are quite a treat when seeing this sleek execution work out magnificently. The film certainly tries to capture the grind of its decade when relating to hard struggle of exhausting work and commitment to a craft that one hopes comes to fruition with adulation and not crushing failure, which is made clear with its carefully crafted last scene, with a drained director quietly listening some of the patrons opinions by himself. Sure, he overcame tough odds, but all the opinions are about how he "supposedly" will take credit for the show and discovering the new star, since "some guys get all the breaks". In the end, the film is one that resonates just as well back then as it does now in its basic tenants: that one can make it with enough talent, luck and flat out hard work for the chance at some success to be proud of. It works with Depression-era crowds and it can still work with those curious at heart now.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.