Honolulú

I've read film buffs quoted as saying that Eleanor Powell's Hawaiian dance number in the movie "Honolulu" was the sexist dance ever filmed. Well, I've watched many musicals over the years, and I can't think of one that smoked like that one did. To the driving beat of drums, Miss Powell, barefoot and wearing a grass skirt, overpowered the stage with her athleticism and seductive movements. You gotta see it -- I can't describe it and do it justice!

All and all, it was an enjoyable film simply because of a good cast that was able to overcome a rather threadbare script. Robert Young delivered his usual fine performance playing two characters impersonating one another. The radio comedians George Burns and Gracie Allen were along for the ride: with Geacie fairly enjoyable in her usual role of the slightly daffy friend to Miss. Powell. As another poster here said, Eleanor Powell was best when dancing alone; however, that was enough.

This B musical (still available only on VHS) has four things in it worth looking at today: the big "Leader Doesn't Like Music" vaudeville number with singing Marx Brothers impersonators and Gracie Allen got up as Mae West; and Powell's three dance numbers. The first shows off Powell's ability to tap while skipping rope. The second, a blackface tribute to Bill Robinson, would be cornball if Powell weren't so good. The third, a long hula in two acts, isn't Powell's best number but it seems better suited to her big athletic style than her dressy nightclub-style numbers. For once she is not dressed like the mailman, and it's possible to see the unbelievable condition she was in at that time as well as the speed and power of her movements. Fred Astaire surely saw this film while the preparations were underway to make "Broadway Melody of 1940", which teamed him with Powell (or rather, the other way around). No wonder he was scared.

MGM musical with several unusual assets: For one thing, it's unpretentious, and for another, it has a genuinely diverting screenplay, co-written by Herb Fields, an old hand at musical comedy librettos (he wrote a number of Rodgers and Hart hits). The unremarkable but serviceable plot has Robert Young double-cast as a fan-harassed movie star and a pineapple farmer who trade places, and movie-star-posing-as-farmer falls for Eleanor Powell, who's starring in a Honolulu floor show and accompanied by sidekick Gracie Allen. Gracie's material isn't up to standard, and George has practically nothing to do, and Powell's charms seldom went far beyond the Terpsichorean. But she does have a couple of fine solos, and the Harry Warren-Gus Kahn songs are agreeable. It's typically racially insensitive, with Eleanor doing a blackface salute to Bill Robinson not unlike Astaire's in "Swing Time," and the standard giggling-Asian-servant thing going on. Nevertheless, it's so modest and entertaining, I was surprised how much I enjoyed it.

It's the kind of fluffy production big-budget MGM excelled at. Actor Young gets dual parts, one as a heart-throb celebrity, the other as an average Smith living in Hawaii. To escape pressures, each is anxious to trade places with his look-alike twin. So heart-throb Mason goes to Honolulu while Smith goes to New York. Trouble is this reciprocal move pairs each with his look-alike's girl, so complications ensue.

Actually, the plot line is heavier than usual for a musical. Nonetheless, director Buzzell keeps things moving. As expected, Powell shows off her flying feet, while I especially like that first number on shipboard that's quite beguiling. However, it's Gracie Allen who steals the show with her shrill comic antics. However, she's got only one skit with under-used husband George Burns that comes at movie's end almost like it's an add-on for George's sake. Also. don't look for popular tunes among the musical selections, after all it's the dancing feet here that's central. There's some flavor of tropical Hawaii with two hula-type dance numbers, otherwise there's not much location scenery. Typical of the time period is the racially stereotyped humor from Willie Fung and Rochchester Anderson, who, whatever else, are adept comedians. All in all, the movie's a crisply done, well-mounted showcase for Powell, Allen, and Young, but nothing special.

(In passing- for old movie fans, especially of the noir classic Detour {1947}, look for notorious Hollywood bad boy Tom Neal as an ambulance attendant with one brief line.)

(Spoilers, sort of) Why do I use the word enigma? Because MGM never seemed to know exactly what to do with the great Eleanor Powell. Not unlike the swimming Esther Williams, Powell's films were a kind of specialized musical entertainment where the most uncanny situations had to be dreamed up to show off her tap-dancing skills. And while she was a premier tap dancer- and a better dancer than an actress, she usually danced alone- unlike her male counterparts (Astaire, Kelly, et al) who were usually given dancing partners who doubled as their love interests. In this film, Powell's co-star is the non-dancing Robert Young, who's given a rather foolish subplot in a dual role as a movie star and his double who create havoc when they switch identities. And that's all there is to it. George Burns and Gracie Allen, billed as the second leads, play more apart than they do together. Powell's dance numbers, of course, are sensational: A stair-step routine paying homage to Bill Robinson (while the blackface makeup is startling, the dancing itself is terrific); a shipboard dance with a skipping rope as a prop; and the piece-de-resistance: an all-out grass skirt hula done in two parts: first as a barefoot native dance, then as an ultra-smooth tap sequence done with silver tap shoes. Powell may have been the only woman dancer to dance with her whole body: lots of arm movements, knee bends, splits, high kicks, and puree-speed turns. It's a fun film to watch just for this incredible number.