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.

In Old Arizona.

Review #1328: In Old Arizona.

Cast: 
Warner Baxter (The Cisco Kid), Edmund Lowe (Sergeant Mickey Dunn), Dorothy Burgess (Tonia Maria), Henry Armetta (Barber), James Bradbury Jr. (Soldier), Joe Brown (Bartender), Frank Campeau (Man Chasing Cisco), John Webb Dillion (Second Soldier), Alphonse Ethier (Sheriff), Jim Farley (Townsman), Pat Hartigan (Cowpuncher), and Soledad Jiménez (Tonita the Cook) Directed by Irving Cummings.

Review: 
In Old Arizona premiered on Christmas Day of 1928 (with general release to come in the following days) as a pioneer for Westerns and for talking films. It is the first major Western in sound, and it is the first talkie with outdoor scenes. Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927) had been the first film from Fox Film to use the Fox Movietone sound-on-film system (which it used for a synchronized music score and sound effects). Now it is used here to make something in line with other Westerns adapted from previous material. The film is adapted from O. Henry's 1907 short story "The Caballero's Way". In the original story, The Cisco Kid was a killer for sport, as opposed to the more sympathetic portrayals in adaptations, although this does keep the ending from the original. There had been two adaptations of the work in the previous decade, and there would be further films to follow with the character in the next three decades (with Baxter playing the role four more times) along with a radio and television series. Baxter had started his career as an extra in 1914, gradually finding bigger roles over the 1920s, such as Sheltered Daughters (1921). He had gained this role through a series of accidents befalling people cast for the lead role. Raoul Walsh was a noted actor who became a director in his own right (having directed noted films such as Regeneration in 1915 and The Thief of Bagdad in 1924), and he was slated to direct and star as the lead. However, when he was driving during production in the desert, a jackrabbit jumped into the windshield of his car, blinding his right eye because of the broken glass. Actor/stuntman Buddy Roosevelt was brought in next, but he withdrew before production could re-start due to a broken leg, so it fell to Baxter to portray the charismatic lead and stay in one piece (along with do a bit of singing), resulting in an Academy Award. In that sense, he does okay, playing with tinges of charisma in a role that seems a bit dated nowadays (imagine putting on a mustache and trying to pull off an accent when you're from Ohio). At least he sings okay, in the same way that I really don't go watching too many singing cowboys to really compare it to. Lowe isn't too much better, but at least his brashness is meant to come out as opposed to seeming awkward with a microphone strategically placed to get the sound out fine like others. Burgess maintains the standard of the mediocre love triangle going with no bumps, although it really isn't much of an interesting triangle with chemistry to keep following for 95 minutes. These are chumps we are dealing with here, but at least it knows to pair it down with a decent ending (as opposed to just a shoot-out) involving the old switching-your-clothes-and-letters trick. The locations certainly seem lovely, even if they don't exactly match the title, with shots being done in Utah and California (notably in parks, missions, and the Mojave Desert) that look fairly nice. Honestly, the film isn't terrible, but it seems a bit tedious when it comes to execution, where one could note better Westerns that came before it that didn't have sound (such as 3 Bad Men, for example) and then note the ones that would come after it for how they dealt with both sound and story. The 1920s had plenty of interesting winners for film, but this one falls right in the middle - not quite forgettable, but not quite remarkable either.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.