Bernadette Peters

(On Cable TV, March 2020) There are times when I want to take a position against a film not necessarily because it’s terribly made or bad at what it tries to do, but as a statement against its very intent. I get that not everyone likes musicals, for instance (what’s wrong with you?), and there are several valid statements to be made against the way the 1930s, mired as they were in depression-era economics, still produced some exceptionally escapist entertainment that scrupulously avoided mentioning the ongoing crisis. But making a movie with the intention of dismantling 1930s musicals is not a way to get on my good side, and that’s what Pennies from Heaven wants to do. A serious dark-haired Steve Martin stars alongside Bernadette Peters and Christopher Walken, but the film proves to be a waste of all three. Determined to drag viewers through the muck in-between fantasy sequences borrowing liberally from 1930s musicals, this is a film that features economic desperation, prostitution, abortion, murder, rape, and the innocent being hanged in time for the end of the film. As a concept, this is terrible—akin to seeing someone rip up a favourite book, setting fire to a great painting or defecating on something you hold dear. I have to wonder at what they were thinking in greenlighting this project. The only explanation I can find is that this was New Hollywood’s double-fisted parting screw-you to an era they could never hope to match. Oh yes, make no mistake—I utterly despise Pennies from Heaven for having the unearned audacity to criticize something greater than itself. Ironically, the films’ set-pieces are much better than how the entire film wants to make you feel: Three musical numbers (all fantasies) stand out, whether it’s Martin’s terrific tap-dancing, Peters’ slinky classroom fancy or Walken’s dance-strip. That’s what happens when you stop being nihilistic and actually try to do as well as the thing you’re criticizing. Pennies from Heaven, for all of its considerable sins, was a significant box-office bomb, which is something that anyone aware of the film’s intention could have predicted. Unfortunately, it did not contribute to a revival of the movie musical in the 1980s. Which is reason enough to loathe the film even more. Fred Astaire hated the film, and when you annoyed Astaire, you knew you had screwed up.