Wonder Bar (1934)

Meine Damen und Herren- Mes dames et Messieurs- Ladies and Gentlemen….
He whips her with a whip! He whips her, he whips her, he whips her…
But she loves it!

Wonder Bar is a decadent nightclub somewhere in Paris hosted by Al Wonder a provocateur with biting wit and a stealthy influence over the wealthy and influential patrons who enter his club. Wonder’s lurid exhibitions of impossibly glamorous sado-masochistic performances seduce the curious customers where they become prey to beautiful gold diggers and continental gigolos. All the while the band plays sophisticated foxtrots and waltzes that veer into the psychedelic and surreal thanks to choreographer Busby Berekeley.

After a brief prologue that introduces some of the characters’ back stories, the film unfolds in a single night: a complex la ronde of inter-relationships and overlapping motives. Crooning bandleader Dick Powell pines for the exquisite Dolores del Rio. She loves badboy Ricardo Cortez her dancing partner, but he is ready to cash in on his affair with the wife of an important politician and disappear forever.

Unfortunately the wife has come to retrieve her love token, a diamond bracelet which Cortez is desperately trying to exchange for cash. Her husband reported it stolen and has involved detectives who are putting the heat on Cortez. Fearing his past will be exposed he must get away tonight but Del Rio refuses to let him go. Their relationship climaxes on stage as Cortez whips the face of del Rio, determined to make her despise him!

Meanwhile, Jolson realizes a scandal is imminent and the politician could close Wonder Bar in revenge. He begins to quietly manipulate the situation, paying off the troublesome Cortez and steering the lovesick del Rio to himself. But things go too far. Among the liaisons and affairs there is a murder, a suicide. Love is gained and lost. A crime is covered up and the guilty go free. It’s just another night at Wonder Bar….

“Don’t Say Goodnight”

But don’t worry about the plot. This love n-gon is barely sketched in before being steamrolled by the platinum-wigged Berkeley girls in a dizzying infinity mirror waltz “Don’t Say Goodnight”. Rows of identical chorines chime in with a verse and we have entered Berkeley time-space. They reveal a regiment of phallic columns which might be giant candle tapers dripping with dark wax at the tip. The columns gently glide away revealing more chorines in transparent white skirts. They wave their arms and meander through the columns, which again glide away to reveal men in white tuxedos and black masks.
…more about Wonder Bar

Ziegfeld Girl (1941)

Lana Turner, Judy Garland, and Hedy Lamarr star in this showgirl ’sploitation flick that tries to cash in on the glamor and drama of The Great Ziegfeld (it actually recycles footage from that film’s dazzling musical numbers), but ends up a chintzy lurid and poorly-written propaganda piece about what happens to women who dare to abandon their paternalistic yoke and enter showbiz.

The whole plot (or should we just call it the moral) is spelled out 20 minutes into the film in an opening night speech: “…You’re Ziegfeld Girls… Some of you will end up with your name in lights (close up on Judy Garland). Some of you will end up with a husband and kids (close up on Hedy Lamarr). And some of you are going to end up…, well, not so good…. But don’t blame it on the Follies…” Some peptalk!
…more about Ziegfeld Girl

Gold Diggers of 1937 (1936)

Busby Berkeley’s war of the sexes.

Gold Diggers of 1935 (1935)

What is a post-musical? I’ve been trying to define this to my husband ever since we saw Chicago on Broadway. His teenage daughter and I loved it, he hated it — all for the same reasons. It’s heartless, the heroes are unlikable, their predicaments amoral, and like the real world of theater the backstabbing and scamming take backseat only to money and fame. And at it’s heart the musical numbers lead you through dark corners of the soul.

Gold Diggers of 1935 is post. Set in a wealthy resort hotel, the mood is set immediately as employees are told they will not be paid, but receive only tips. Every bellhop and waiter, desk clerk and maid is expected to fleece their clientele. Little surprise that nice-guy Dick Powell dumps his sweetheart for $500. No hard feelings as his fiancee also moves on to greener pastures — green as in money, to marry a wealthy playboy known for big payoffs to his ex-wives. Another woman, hired as a personal secretary plays her boss for a fool and blackmails him with a fake love letter. Meanwhile, a theater director embezzles from his sponsors and his set designer.

Topping it off is Busby Berkeley’s epic movie-within-a-movie. Lullaby of Broadway features a woman who is literally danced to death by rows tapping marching sieg heil-ing hoofers in a dizzying nightclub of art deco stairs and platforms.

Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933)

Mervyn LeRoy brilliantly directs the sparkling comedy that cements Busby Berkeley’s classic dance spectacles, in what is probably the best of the Silver Age musicals. Ironically, the film opens with Ginger Rodgers rehearsing We’re in the Money as irate creditors storm the theater and rip the oversize coins from her body. “It’s the Depression, Dearie”, she sneers.

But in a reversal of fortune the plucky gold diggers are back in another show, fronted by squeaky-clean kids William Powell and Ruby Keeler both reluctant stars (ie: not gold diggers). Turns out Powell is secretly from a wealthy Bostonian family who threatens to cut off his fortunes if he marries Keeler. Enter two stuffshirts to bring Powell to his senses, and when they mistake roommate Joan Blondell for Keeler, the real gold diggers get their chance for revenge against the upper class.

It’s all very pre-code, and while the plot (masterminded by the hilarious Aline MacMahon as fellow roommate Trixie) threatens to dip into unseemly territory, Berkeley’s numbers dive into the bawdy deep end. Impish runt Billy Barty dressed up in baby costumes instigates all sorts of provocative situations in Petting in the Park. Couples play in an escallating tease show until climaxing with the women wearing full-metal chastity armor. Barty hands frustrated Powell a can opener!

Berkeley’s Shadow Waltz makes Hollywood history with identical platinum wigged women swaying with neon-lit violins, a visual show-stopper that has never been topped– even by Berkely himself.

The closing number is the haunting My Forgotten Man shared by Joan Blondell and uncredited Black vocalist Etta Moten, who plead for the men who fought in WWI and now humbled by breadlines and poverty.