¿Hombre o ratón?

EDDIE CANTOR was one of the most talented comedian/singers in Hollywood who never really got his due in films--except for a wonderful turn as lookalikes in THANK YOUR LUCKY STARS ('43). And ETHEL MERMAN is a great brassy singer from Broadway who never got her big chance in films either, except for CALL ME MADAM.

They don't really get their big chance here, either. It's an antiquated musical even though there is some great talent behind the scenes, as can be noted in the screen credits.

Cantor is the typical nerd, a tailor being bullied by college guys and rescued occasionally by his pal "Butch" (GORDON JONES). Cantor is being ribbed all the time for his crush on night-club singer ETHEL MERMAN, whose photos are posted all over his shop. He plays the sort of character that would inevitably fall to the Harold Lloyds and Danny Kayes of the show biz world--or, for that matter, Bob Hope who specialized in being a cowardly foil for the villainous thugs.

A young BRIAN DONLEVY has an early role as one of the thugs who wants to put one over on Cantor by placing slot machines in "Dreamland" park, with Cantor as current owner who has to get his courage from a book and phonograph record on "Man or Mouse?" A funny scene has him working his spell on tough guy ED BROPHY to the strains of "Dance of the Hours".

SALLY EILERS is the pretty secretary trying to give Cantor some backbone. It's the sort of role Virginia Mayo would later play in Danny Kaye films.

Some of the humor is rather forced and it's all kind of corny, but fun to watch as Cantor gets himself into one situation after another as he confronts the bad guys. Ethel Merman shows up for a couple of so-so song numbers but most of the time she's absent from the scene--and her few songs are not exactly memorable.

On the credit side, the musical sequences include some well choreographed song and dance numbers featuring The Goldwyn Girls, particularly one called "The Lady Dances". But the highlight of the film is the spectacular "Dreamland" chase that has all of the slapstick quality of the great silent chases, inspired by the Buster Keaton-Charlie Chaplin crowd of comics.

Summing up: Will appeal mostly to the admirers of Eddie Cantor's style as the comic foil for villains--and for anyone curious at an early glimpse of Merman.

STRIKE ME PINK (Samuel Goldwyn/United Artists, 1936), directed by Norman Taurog, no relation to the 1933 musical play but based on Clarence Budington-Kelland's the Saturday Evening Post story/ novel, "Dreamland," marks the sixth and final screen collaboration of Eddie Cantor for producer Samuel Goldwyn, and Cantor's second opposite Ethel Merman. Unlike their previous effort in KID MILLIONS (1934), where Cantor and Merman were equally balanced,Cantor dominates in both story and comedy department while Merman, through her limited scenes duping Cantor into believing she's a damsel in distress, taking center stage with her vocalizing and addressing Eddie as "My Hero!" STRIKE ME PINK also goes on record as the only Goldwyn musical where Cantor doesn't perform in black-face.

The story begins at Millwood University where Eddie Pink (Eddie Cantor), a timid and cowardly tailor who finds himself constantly bullied by the students. He is befriended by "Butch" Carson (Gordon Jones), a fellow student who's strong with his fists by fighting Eddie's battles, but weak on brains when it comes to his studies. Eddie's weakness is Joyce Lennox (Ethel Merman), a famous night club singer whose photographs he keeps taped behind closet doors. Aside from helping Butch (a college student for seven years) to pass the final exams, Eddie works on being a strong and fearless through a mail ordered a book, "Man or Mouse: What Are You?" a record and a coin with a man on one side and a mouse on the other. After studying the book from cover to cover, Eddie gains some confidence as instructed through the use of his magnetic finger, magnetic eye and magnetic stand. After Butch miraculously graduates from college, the two come to Dreamland, an amusement park his widowed mother owns. Rather than assuming ownership of the park, Butch enlists four years in the Navy instead, leaving Eddie in charge with Claribel Hayes (Sally Eilers) acting as his over protective secretary. While assuming control of dreamland, Eddie proves his bravery when faced by Vance (Brian Donlevy), a mob boss and his hired thugs consisting of Copple (William Frawley); the knuckle cracking Thrust (Jack LaRue); Marsh (Don Brodie); and Shelby (Charles McAvoy) wanting to insert 150 crooked slot machines on property, and, to make matters worse, Eddie has a hired G-Man (G standing for "Greek"), named Parkyakarkus acting as his bodyguard, who happens to be no help at all.

With the score by Harold Arlen and Lew Brown, and choreography by Robert Alton, the songs include: "High and Low" (sung by Ethel Merman); "The Lady Dances" (sung by Eddie Cantor, and sung and danced by Rita Rio/chorus); "Calabash Pipe" (sung by Eddie Cantor and Ethel Merman); and "Shake It Off With Rhythm" (sung by Ethel Merman). While the songs and staging are unmemorable, "High and Low" is interesting because of its Depression related theme with camera doing most of the movement, rather than the ensemble, capturing every angle in all directions as Merman, in Harlem setting, stands under a lighted street post surrounded by black dancers. For the musical finale, "Shake It Off With Rhythm" comes across as a lively "hot" / "jive" number performed at the Club Lido where Merman sings the tune and Sunnie O'Dea tap dances to her reflection on the mirrored dance floor.

Also in the supporting cast is Edward Brophy, normally as a dim-witted hood, continues to do so here as "Killer," the one hired to do "rub out" Eddie only to find they have one thing in common, the "Man or Mouse" book. Because Killer only read up to page 45 gives Eddie the advantage of giving him his magnetic eye. Fans of the 1950s' TV series, "The Abbott and Costello Show" will take notice of the early screen presence of Gordon ("Mike the Cop") Jones and Sidney ("Fields, the Landlord") Fields. Sharing no scenes together, Fields, also a comedy writer in his own right, assumes his role as Chorley, Joyce's supposedly "dead" brother whom Eddie later believes to be a ghost.

Although portions of its comedy presented appears forced or unfunny, the well stage and often hilarious climax near the end simply makes up for it. Lasting close to 20 minutes, it starting off with a chase between Eddie and the gangsters through the amusement park, followed by a wild roller-coaster ride, then hot air balloon and finally the more deft-defying stunts reminiscent to those bygone silent comedies of either Mack Sennett or Harold Lloyd.

While former American Movie Classics Bob Dorian in a 1992 broadcast of STRIKE ME PINK once mentioned that producer Samuel Goldwyn had originally purchased the property of "Dreamland" for comedian Harold Lloyd, it eventually went to Cantor instead. In fact, I can envision Lloyd instead of Cantor playing the cowardly hero in dangerous stunts for its climax as he did in the silent era. It might have worked out better. Who knows?

STRIKE ME PINK, formerly available on video cassette in the 1990s, had frequent cable television revivals over the years ranging from Christian Broadcast Network (the 1980s), The Nostalgia Channel (early 1990s), Turner Network Television (1992), American Movie Classics (1992-1994, with one final broadcast in 1998), and finally Turner Classic Movies (TCM premiere: April 7, 2006). In regards to comedy, STRIKE ME PINK is an enjoyable 100 minute romp that should not disappoint any avid Eddie Cantor fan. (***)

I've seen quite a few Eddie Cantor films and some of them are wonderful films. However, Cantor also made a few clunkers--and STRIKE ME PINK is one of them.

The film starts out well. Cantor plays a milquetoast owner of a dry cleaning business. Because he's so afraid, he takes a correspondence course to make him an assertive man. This aspect of the film is pretty funny and I really was hooked.

When Cantor's friend graduates college, Cantor is offered a job running the amusement park owned by his friend's mother. They hire him because he acts tough and assertive--and they need that because hoods (led by Brian Donlevy and William Frawley) are trying to force the park to place crooked slot machines on the property. The last three managers all met with "unfortunate accidents" or just disappeared, so it looks as if Cantor is in over his head.

Again, so far so good--the set up is just fine and the film is a mildly amusing comedy. However, one problem is noticeable half-way through the film. While Cantor himself often sings cute little songs in his films, this time there are some Busby Berkely-like production numbers and the addition of a lady singer that frankly didn't work. The humor, at times, took a back seat to irrelevant musical numbers. The dumb plot involving the dark-haired lounge singer just didn't work at all.

By the middle of the film, the quality and humor started to fade. However, towards the end the film got really, really bad--like the writers had no idea what to do with the film. Going from a gentle comedy to a "wacky" and outrageous comedy just failed miserably. All too often, Cantor wasn't even in a scenes--just his stunt double. Additionally, with the awful roller coaster scene, too much of a reliance on rear-projection and dippy stunts sank the film. At this point, I just couldn't wait for it to end. It's a shame really, as I wanted to love this film--too bad it all turned to crap at the end.

The fifth and final movie of Broadway star Eddie Cantor's films for producer Sam Goldwyn's independent production company, it was considered the weakest by critics and fans at the time. Even Leonard Maltin gives this a low rating compared to the three stars (out of four) he gives to the other Cantor films. While certainly not as much of a classic, it is certainly entertaining enough to warrant study in this era of Adam Sandler/Jim Carrey comedys.

Always typecast as the scaredy cat milquetoast, Eddie Cantor continues in that mold here as a laundrymat employee who ends up becoming manager of an amusement park owned by a feisty little old lady (Helen Lowell). It seems that the previous managers have all met with fatal accidents thanks to a racket that wants to install pinball machines in the park against the old ladies wishes. When Cantor manages to show a little more verve in front of the old lady and her daughter (Sally Eilers, a sadly forgotten actress), he is offered position of manager of the park, and celebrates with his pal by visiting his favorite singer, Georgia (Ethel Merman) who flirts with him in order to get him to install the pinball machines for her gangster friends.

There are several memorable production numbers which use the Busby Berkley style flare for overhead shots previously used in the Cantor musicals which Berkley choreographed: "Whoopee"; "Palmy Days"; and "The Kid From Spain". Other choreographers took over the reigns for his last three Goldwyn pictures, and here, Roy Del Ruth gets the job. Cantor's "The Lady Dances" production number at the amusement park is very elaborate, although it is Merman's "Shake It Off With Rhythm" that stands out here especially with the dancer whos shadow in the well-polished nightclub floor does her own steps. And when the bevy of chorus girls (thanks to the obvious presence of other chorus girls beneath them) start a dance while sitting on the floor, the number goes into the Hollywood musical books as one of the wackiest production numbers in film history. Merman and Cantor also sing a duet while on a ferris wheel which shows them with old-age make-up. Audiences familiar with Merman's later Broadway, film, and TV appearances will find it amusing to see young Merman (then 27) in old lady disguise.

Merman also sings a torchy number (with chorus) at the beginning that is well photographed but not at all in the same league with her big number. The two big production numbers are topped by a riotous finale (later used in "Abbott and Costello in Hollywood") where Cantor tries to flee from the rackateers (one of whom is William Frawley, aka Fred Mertz) by escaping on a rollercoaster. Of course, all sorts of visual comedy takes place, turning it into a fast-moving and laugh-filled ending. There really isn't a lot of Merman here; She is more a red-herring in the plot than anything else. Helen Lowell, as the old lady, is a live action version of tweety bird's owner; All she is missing is the bird and cage. Parkyakarkus, a popular radio comedian at the time (who also had a brief movie career), is stupidly annoying, a stereotypical foreigner (apparently Greek) who lacks in too many brain cells to be a body guard. Fortunately, he pops in and out of the action so fast he doesn't have time to really become distracting from the wonderful Cantor.

While the film is certainly not a classic, it is enjoyable enough to give a few laughs and smiles thanks to the fine musical numbers. While comedy today is focusing on more sexually explicit gags for more shock value (chickens being used to humiliate the law and Hitler in hell in a tu-tu with a pineapple for a special decoration come instantly to mind in today's comedys), films like "Strike It Pink" focus on a gentler and less crude style to get their laughs. Hopefully, it will turn up on cable or on the late show where they still show old movies rather than infomercials, so today's film students or fans of classic comedy can get an opportunity to enjoy it.

I usually like Eddie Cantor. And this has an agreeable supporting cast. But I found this a chore. Yes, the Dreamland amusement park is appealing. And it has some wonderful Harold Arlen songs. I love the one he and Ethel Merman sing about retiring to a farm. What a funny image that conjures up!

Merman is believable as a nightclub singer. But she isn't believable as a heartthrob. The dancing is fine but I found it hard not to compare it to the Warner's Berekely movies. And in comparison, it does not fare well.

Cantor's movies often have a strange charm. They're goofy but lovable. This one works way too hard. The final sequence seemed inept. I kept thinking how fabulous it would have been with Buster Keaton. Or with Harold Lloyd. With Cantor, it was as light as a cement cream puff.