Gracie Allen

  • The Big Broadcast of 1937 (1936)

    (On Cable TV, September 2022) With a title as blunt as The Big Broadcast of 1937, you know exactly what to expect: a variety show with a loose framing device having to do with Broadway and radio broadcasts circa mid-1930s. It certainly delivers: Even as part of a series, it’s watchable by itself, not only as an illustration of how radio operated back then, but also as a sampler of some celebrities of the time. It’s not that good of a musical: the rhythm is slack, the acts aren’t all as compelling, and the film frankly gets lazy with the framing device (or, rather, lack of) by the time the third act hits and it’s one diegetic number after another. But on the other hand, here’s another chance to catch Jack Benny, or the legendary George Burns and Gracie Allen couple closer to their vaudeville prime, or bandleader Benny Goodman with Gene Krupa on the drums. There’s also a short animation piece, at a time when those weren’t plentiful, and a little bit of visual style to make the musical numbers stand out. The plot itself? Largely forgettable, with its mixture of business concerns and light romantic comedy. But the point here isn’t the narrative—it’s capturing the performances of people who were, at the time, among the nation’s best-known entertainers. I wouldn’t necessarily recommend The Big Broadcast of 1937 to just about anyone, especially if they are completely unfamiliar with the period of its production. But for anyone looking to dig deeper into the era, it’s got a few fun bits and pieces.

  • Two Girls and a Sailor (1944)

    Two Girls and a Sailor (1944)

    (On Cable TV, December 2020) A surprising number of WW2 MGM musicals were made primarily to be shown to troops. As such, they were collages of artists in the studio’s stable, with a plot optimized to get as many numbers on-screen as possible without it seeming like a clip show. Two Girls and a Sailor borrows a plot lifted from The Broadway Melody and updates it with elements familiar to viewers of Hollywood Canteen and Stage Door Canteen. Here, we have two sisters headed to Broadway, but falling into all sorts of romantic and professional complications. But the script (nominated for an Academy Award, amazingly enough) is really a backdrop to the musical numbers once the film gets underway. Everyone will have their favourites – for myself, the number one performance remains Virginia O’Brien’s hilarious rendition of “Take it Easy,” taking her unflappable comic singing gimmick to another level by miming nearly falling asleep during her performance. Close seconds include a capture of Jimmy Durante singing his famous “Inka Dinka Doo,” Gracie Allen having fun with “Concerto for index Finger” (it’s exactly what it claims to be) and the superb Lena Horne crooning “Paper Doll” like only she could. Two Girls and a Sailor works better considered as an anthology film of the time’s entertainers coming in for a number or two. It’s fun, albeit best considered in bit pieces rather than a full course.

  • A Damsel in Distress (1937)

    A Damsel in Distress (1937)

    (On Cable TV, October 2020) One of the lesser Fred Astaire musicals of the 1930s, A Damsel in Distress takes us to England, where Astaire plays (as usual) a renowned entertainer trying to find love. He eventually finds it in the character of an English lady, although not without the complications that usually follow such narratives. The cast does offer some interest, with Joan Fontaine at the female lead, and comic characters played by none other than George Burns and Gracie Allen, the later being progressively funnier as a squeaky-voiced airhead. There’s the usual number and variety of dance numbers from Astaire, and while there’s nothing truly anthology-worthy here, two or three sequences still work really well: “Stiff Upper Lip” leads to a showpiece funhouse dance number, while “Nice Work If You Can Get It” leads to an Astaire drum solo played with a variety of appendages. Nearly everything about the film is perfunctory by Astaire’s high standards—Fontaine is not a particularly good dancer, the comedy is slight (aside from Burns and Allen) and the premise is a bit dull compared to other movies of the era. Those who keep a wearied eye on Astaire’s romantic persona (boiled down to “no means try again later”) will note an explicit statement of the persistence credo late in the film, where a character calls out Astaire for being too passive and to Go Get It. Modern audiences will groan at that moment—what works for Astaire would mean a restraining order and social media denunciations in real life twenty-first century. Still, A Damsel in Distress itself is not too bad, even though it is frankly one of the more easily disposable of Astaire’s black-and-white films.