Lady of Burlesque

Iris Adrian and Barbara Stanwyck in Lady of Burlesque

William Wellman's Lady of Burlesque is an occasionally winning musical comedy mystery that has musical bright spots, passable comedy, and uninteresting mystery elements. The film is a cleaned up adaptation of Gypsy Rose Lee's mystery novel, The G-String Murders which was successful enough to inspire a follow-up, Mother Finds a Body. The film occurs almost entirely backstage at a burlesque house where the girls show all that was acceptable under the Production Code. The production numbers are fun, especially Stanwyck warbling "Take It Off the E String, Play It On the G String" and James Gunn's screenplay captures the book's snappy dialogue.

What neither Gunn nor Wellman can transcend is the book's half-assed murder mystery. Every time a body is found, the police gather the many suspects in a dressing room, laboriously questioning them, and the film comes to a grinding halt. Since this was a two week quickie for RKO, I doubt Wellman had any compunction to jazz up the proceedings. He does have a feel for the rat a tat tat backstage patter and provides Ms. Stanwyck a nifty entrance. RKO must have been banking on the leggy appeal of Ms. Stanwyck to repeat the success of 1941's Ball of Fire whose Sugarpuss O'Shea is a twin of Lady of Burlesque's Dixie Daisy. The cheesecake of the film's chorines and Ms. Stanwyck's moxie did indeed insure a windfall for RKO.

The G-String Murders has autobiographical elements that jibed with Ms. Stanwyck's own career. Ms. Lee drew upon her reminisces of a former lover to conjure Dixie's romantic interest, Biff Brannigan. Stanwyck had got her start in the speakeasies and vaudeville theaters of New York, at 16. Her first marriage was to vaudeville comedian Frank Fay. So, Stanwyck didn't have to act, just be. Since she was the Hollywood actress of her era, her performance is a marvel of remembered technique and rueful nostalgia. She is the cynosure of the film and reason enough to see it. The comic in Lady of Burlesque is played by Michael O' Shea who also started as a vaudevillian and was coming off a stage success in The Eve of St. Mark. O'Shea is very good in the vaudeville skits, but somehow lacked cinematic sparkle dust. He had a fitful Hollywood career, but did marry Virginia Mayo.

Lady of Burlesque is not quite a good film, but has its moments. I find it more spritely than Wellman's prestige film of 1943, The Ox Bow Incident, one of the moldier of Hollywood's old chestnuts. Someone could make a good film or mini-series out of the real story of Gypsy Rose Lee and, no, the musical or film of Gypsy doesn't count.

Stanwyck at age 24

Onyx the Fortuitous and the Talisman of Souls

Abaddon the Demon in Onyx the Fortuitous and the Talisman of Souls

Andrew Bowser stars in, wrote, and directed Onyx the Fortuitous and the Talisman of Souls, an engaging comic horror film. Bowser strived over a decade to get this project off the ground and was able to crowdfund enough financing to achieve his dream. Bowser's influences (80s comic horror flicks like Ghostbusters and Beetlejuice) are a bit too goofy for my taste, but Bowser's film is fast-paced and buoyant with mirth. The cast achieves a nice balance between comic book hysteria and faux seriousness amidst much mumbo jumbo. The one exception is Bowser's own performance which is laden with tics. Still, anyone savvy enough to cast Jeffrey Combs and Barbara Crampton (stars of the immortal Reanimator) can be forgiven his self-indulgences.

Onyx...is ridiculously lightweight and overly concerned with pre-teen sexual anxiety; especially considering that there are no pre-teens in the film. There are collectibles which should clue one in to the arrested development feel to the flick. What redeems the film's dopey premise is the craft behind the flick. The set decoration, make-up, costumes, and monsters all display the handmade effort and love that was lavished on them. The puppetry used to animate the monsters (see above) adds to the film's tactility and sense of deja vu. Onyx... is a tribute to a more hands-on era before the rise of CGI.
 

Show People

Marion Davies

King Vidor's Show People, from 1928, is a winning and affectionate satire of Hollywood, The story was probably old hat even at the time, but provides a good setting for Marion Davies' comic talents. Ms. Davies plays Peggy Pepper, a green wannabe from Georgia who wants to break into movies. Show People opens with Peggy and her Pa driving down Hollywood Boulevard dressed as if they had escaped from a roadshow production of Uncle Tom's Cabin. Peggy meets established comic Billy Boone (William Haines) who helps her get a break with his troupe. Peggy is an instant hit and parlays her success by taking on more serious roles under her new stage name, Patricia Pepoire. Success goes to Ms. Pepoire's head, but, don't worry folks, true love wins out in the end.

Ms. Davies' career declined swiftly during the sound era, but performances like this one show why critics years later rehabilitated her reputation as a crackerjack comedian. She certainly could not be accused of taking herself too seriously. That was William Randolph Hearst's assumed duty. Mr. Vidor is also not taking himself very seriously. Vidor gets to poke fun at his own films, The Big Parade and Bardelys the Magnificent, which Billy Boone terms "a punk drama". Show People closely resembles the career of Gloria Swanson who started out working for Mack Sennett. Vidor has great fun mimicking Sennett's manic shorts. A spray bottle is repeatedly utilized as are various pastry. What impressed me the most was Vidor's indulgence of his bit players. Half of Hollywood cameos in the film, but Vidor wrings funny moments from such unheralded players as Polly Moran, Kalla Pasha, and Rolfe Sedan. Light as a feather, Show People is available to stream in a tolerable print on Tubi.