Die Goldgräber von 1935

"Golddiggers of 1935" stars Alice Brady as a cheapskate determined that her daughter will marry a wealthy older man as planned.

In order to make sure this happens, she gives her daughter a last wish as a single woman, which is to let her do what she wants (i.e., have fun) all summer at the resort where they're staying.

So mom hires the student doctor at the reception desk, Dick (Dick Powell) to escort her around. Oh, and then there's the show for the milk fund. And what a show!

The daughter in question is the beautiful Gloria Stuart, who a mere 60+ years later will receive an Oscar nomination for "Titanic" and make it at last! 96 at the time of this writing, Stuart today is completely recognizable as that dazzling blond of her youth. There's no mistaking those incredible eyes or wonderful voice. It was really a treat to see her in this.

The film is remarkable for its milk fund numbers only - the rest of it isn't much. Berkeley pulled out all the stops with a mesmerizing array of moving white pianos played by chorus girls in gowns, and follows it up with "Lullaby of Broadway."

Sensational - so imaginative, dark, and atmospheric, truly one of the best numbers in cinema. Its unusual beginning (also done at the end) will cue you in immediately that you're about to see something different.

The cast is first rate - Powell, Stuart, Brady, Hugh Herbert, Dorothy Dare, Glenda Farrell, and Adolphe Menjou. Parts of it are overacted, almost as if the actors were on stage, but you won't be sorry you saw Berkeley's work at its best.

... this is not Gold Diggers of 1933, Dames, or Footlight Parade. The story is downright disappointing. I realize that the story is not the main point of a musical, but still, the narrative and its execution here are inane. The reason is not that Warner Brothers or Berkeley or Warren and Dubin have lost their touch, but the Production Code put a dreary blanket of censorship over American films made after 1934 that was impossible to evade. Gloria Stuart, as the poor little rich girl being pushed into a loveless marriage with a middle aged millionaire with a goofy hobby, is lovely, but she just doesn't have the precode bite of the stunning Joan Blondell or the fascinating Ginger Rogers, nor is she the good girl shrouded in an air of mystery like Ruby Keeler.

There are only two decent Busby Berkeley numbers here. The first is "The Words are In My Heart", which has those interesting white pianos. To say that "Lullaby of Broadway", the second of two really interesting numbers here, is great, is an understatement. It combines eroticism, surrealism, and flat out psychedelicism to be one of the high points of the Hollywood musical. And like all of Berkeley's numbers, this is supposed to be a staged number but could only be done in film. How else do you transform the face of Winny Shaw into the island of Manhattan and back again? Not in the rest of his career, IMHO, will Busby Berkeley top this number. Without it this film would probably only be a 5/10. With "Lullaby of Broadway" it rises to a 7/10.

As in Berkeley's earlier (and weaker) 'Dames', a pretty silly one-note plot is balanced by some amazing camera work and visual story telling in the musical numbers.

At least the story we have to put up with to get to the dancing is a bit less annoying, and the acting a bit better. Adolph Monjou is fun as a con-man, Dick Powell is a bit toned down and less annoyingly 'gee-whiz' as our hero and Hugh Herbert is a bit more fun as 'the rich buffoon' than Guy Kibbie in the earlier film.

And I will admit to sitting there, mouth open, saying 'how did he get those huge old cameras to do that?!?' And the huge, complex, dance number 'Lullaby of Broadway', often considered Berkley's greatest, is oddly, wonderfully dark in its implications. A whole story told in dance unto itself.

The GOLD DIGGERS OF 1935 converge on a resort hotel and get involved in staging a lavish charity stage show.

With this film, Busby Berkeley, Warner Bros.' genius choreographer, produced another tuneful, eye-popping spectacle to beguile Depression audiences out of their spare change. With some gutsy performers unhampered by anything remotely resembling an intelligent plot, Berkeley provided plenty of laughs & glitz in this follow-up to his popular GOLD DIGGERS OF 1933.

The large cast is all attuned to the nonsensical merriment. Preppy Dick Powell is in excellent good voice as the hotel employee wooing rich girl Gloria Stuart, who only has to look lovely for the cameras. Alice Brady is properly shrill & strident as a miserly millionaire insistent on getting her own way in all things. Hugh Herbert is delightful as a daffy fellow interested only in his collection of snuff boxes.

Hilarious Adolphe Menjou steals his every scene as a penniless Russian impresario who is obviously slightly crazed. Bold & brassy, the marvelous Glenda Farrell gets to play the only true gold digger in the film. Frank McHugh is Brady's son, desperate to enjoy a forbidden romance. Grant Mitchell oozes unctuous charm as the somewhat smarmy hotel manager.

Movie mavens will recognize Nora Cecil as the head hotel housekeeper & E. E. Clive as Herbert's chauffeur, both uncredited.

While the cast is all shamelessly willing to entertain, it is the two production numbers near the film's climax which have given it its place in movie history. ‘The Words Are In My Heart,' with its gorgeous girls and hypnotically undulating white pianos, showcases Berkeley's love for regimented precision & choreography, engendered years before during his stint with the military. The seminal ‘Lullaby Of Broadway' is a perfect example of Berkeley's way of telling a story through music & dance--in this instance the tale of a Big City girl's ultimately horrific night. These two completely different numbers are tied together by the skein of Berkeley's genius and counterpoint each other beautifully.

Who cares if this plot has been seen before, and/or how many times? There is pure magic in this film, and the magic is the production number, "LULLABY OF Broadway". This picture deserves classic status for that number. It starts with the very affecting voice of a woman singing right to the audience. We are treated to an elderly Fred-and-Ginger type of dancing which, in spite of the ages of the dancers, is one of the smoothest, slickest, thrillingly romantic dance sequences you'll ever see. Then there is the tippy, tappy magic of ALL those dancers, tapping their way onto the screen. There is no better production number ever to appear in any movie. (I am allowed exaggeration; I am Sicilian). Do yourself a great favor and see this dance number.