Rhythm in the Clouds

Not a bad way to spend 53 minutes staring at beautiful people, glamorous gowns and well designed sets, accompanied by lilting tunes. The story isn't too bad, even though the dialog tends to rely too heavily on comedy even when nothing is ready at hand. Patricia Ellis is so-so - rather pretty yet not as glamorous as several other leading B-ladies of the thirties, and a bit too temperate for a screwball comedy. As she only joins in shortly for the last song, it's hard to say anything about her voice. Warren Hull is a good-looking and sexy hunk with very good voice, but there appears to be no sparks flying between the two. Nevertheless, the film flies by very quickly (at 53 minutes - as presented in Classic Musicals 50 movie pack - it should) and keeps your attention well in grasp. Quite enjoyable, even though there is very little actual rhythm and almost no clouds to be seen.

Patricia Ellis is a music writer who is broke and thrown out of her apartment. She goes to visit successful composer Robert Paige, but he's away. So she moves in and begins a banging-on-the-wall feud with her next-door neighbor, Warren Hull. Listing Paige as a collaborator, she gets her music sold to to advertising executive Richard Carle for face-powder magnate Zeffie Tilbury, hiring Hull -- who's a successful lyricist -- to write words for her music. Things are going along well, if confusingly, when just before the premiere of their collaborations, Paige returns.

If it sounds like it could be a comedy or turn into a Nathaniel West tragedy, that's because West was one of the writers of this movie. His great ambition in life was to be a member of literary salons, but he actually had to write to do that, and his publishers went out of business or sold only five hundred copies of a novel, so he went into the movie-writing racket. By the time he killed himself and his wife by running a red light on his way to F. Scott Fitzgerald's funeral, he had written or doctored 14 screenplays.

This Republic musical is directed rather lugubriously by John Auer. The one bright spot is William Newell, who turns every sentence into a tongue-twister. Otherwise, it's standard fare.

In Rhythm Of The Clouds I have to say that leading lady Patricia Ellis has the guts of a burglar. She finagles and forges her way into living in composer Robert Paige's apartment and then says she's his new collaborator on his music. That gets her a contract for a new radio show where Zeffie Tilbury is the sponsor. Of course it's Ellis's own music and it's good. But it's Paige's name who puts it across.

She even gets lyricist Warren Hull to provide words which he usually does for Paige. Problem is that she has had a fight over the phone with Hull when Hull called to complain about the noise. He doesn't know that's his collaborator to be. I think you can see where this is going.

Three years after this film came out, Paramount took some of the same plot premise and fashioned Rhythm On The River for Bing Crosby and Mary Martin. Of course a better score and the production values of Paramount versus Republic a better film was created.

Still Rhythm In The Clouds is not a bad Saturday afternoon' viewing.

You can find this miserable waste of celluloid in those bargain basement 20 movies for $6 type of sets. Some of those films are really good! But not this one.

If you purchase one of those sets, please skip over this movie. If I can save one person from wasting 53 minutes of their life, this posting will be worth it.

Where o where did republic come up with this poor excuse for a cast? There are no obscure names here, obscure suggesting they were once well known. No has-beens, suggesting actors once had a decent career. The best thing I can say about the leads is that they looked pretty good. I can't comment on the acting since there wasn't any acting. There was some over acting from that annoying second rate Allen Jenkins type character - so incredibly unfunny. The leads were just a waist of space - and they couldn't sing either - and this was a musical. In fact, not one of them could even so much as carry a tune. I really hated the male lead's voice which was just a lot of bad vibrato.

There was only a couple of songs. None of them good.

So we are down to a bad attempt at comedy (writing and acting), terrible music, non existent direction, and putrid acting. Did I mention the horrid attempt at comedy yet? No charm, no fun, no nothing.

Other than that, it was great.

Shame on you, Republic Pictures. Stay out of the musical business.

Do not watch this film.

Patricia Ellis is cute as struggling songwriter Judy Walker. Thrown out of her cheap apartment, she wrangles a much nicer place using a letter she received from a much more successful songwriter, the letterhead on his stationery, and a bottle of "ink eraser." Basically, she moves into his place while he is out of town.

The new apartment is awfully nice—an excellent place to work on her songs. There is, unfortunately, a loud neighbor next door; Judy and the neighbor quickly start a noisy war of banging on each other's walls. For the most part, however, Judy is set. She lounges on the couch drinking champagne, sharing high-toned conversation with her imaginary guests: "Mr. Gershwin, take it easy. Of course I'll help you write your new rhapsody….Mr. Berlin! Irving! Do tell the boys how many copies of our last number we sold....Now, Bob McKay—Let me see those lyrics of yours…." We assume that "Bob McKay" is another well-known songwriter; soon enough we learn that…

The guy next door with whom Judy has been fighting through the wall is indeed popular lyricist Bob McKay—a big star and an enthusiastic feuding partner. Naturally, it takes Judy and Bob a good chunk of the picture to discover each other's identities; the scene where they finally make that realization is nicely done and quite funny—it's one of those scenes where you can see it coming but that makes it all the funnier. That scene is typical of the picture as a whole, actually: never especially surprising but pleasantly amusing nevertheless.

Warren Hull is pretty good as Bob McKay, the lyricist next door; Hull and Ellis make a nice couple, two attractive people snapping dialog back and forth and gradually getting together.

The supporting cast have some decent roles: Richard Carle plays the exasperated head of an advertising agency looking for songs; William Newell is the assistant whose job includes rounding up the talent and getting fired every time Carle is in a bad mood; Zeffie Tilbury is hilarious as "the Duchess de Lovely," whose beauty cream products sponsor the radio program Carle is producing.

There's not much to it, but it's easy to look at these beautiful people in their classy outfits and stylish apartments and sparkling radio studio settings.

My favorite line: "Does 'resignation' have two g's?" "I don't know, I always get fired."