Red Garters

Red Garters receives deserved attention for its interesting visuals. The spare, stagy sets mostly feature two-dimensional building fronts placed against a brilliant red backdrop, with a few artificial trees and shining yellow dirt thrown in for good measure. The film has a stripped-down, cartoon-like quality that's enhanced by the camera-work, editing, and a general acting style that tends towards caricature. Frank Tashlin, who went from directing Porky Pig shorts to Jerry Lewis movies, worked on an earlier version of the project for a year qand half, and Red Garters shows his influence. As a visual experiment, it's fairly fascinating.

Unfortunately, as a musical, it's not that great. In fact, Red Garters is a downright preachy and annoying film by the end. Rosemary Clooney gets to use her wonderful voice on several songs, and for that we can all be thankful. Her singing is the best part of the film. But as much as I like Rosemary as a vocalist, she wasn't the most vibrant on-screen personality and can't really carry an entire movie. She was probably better suited for the kind of supporting role she had in White Christmas. Worst of all, her character is the one who preaches the most, and any film that can turn Rosemary Clooney into a grating presence is not a film for me.

In terms of song and dance, Red Garters doesn't offer much that hasn't been done better, or much better, somewhere else. The Evans and Livingston songs are pleasant enough, but you probably won't remember any of them the next day. At least Rosemary sings them, along with Guy Mitchell, who had a good voice. Nick Castle's choreography pales in comparison to Michael Kidd's work on another "Western" musical from 1954, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. And it's hard not to compare them. The best dancing in the film may be Buddy Ebsen's meager 20 seconds, which is a shame because he's one few people in the film with any zing. Though the actors are all okay, there's little chemistry between them, and little pizazz to this movie.

There are some funny moments here and there, but I found myself laughing less and less as the film progressively hammered away at its "message." Edith Head does fairly well with the women's costumes, thankfully, since there's not much else to look at in this film. I'm still not sure what she was trying to do towards the end with Joanne Gilbert's black dress and calico apron thing, but at least it diverted my attention somewhat from the moralizing finale.

For those offended by Hollywood racist portrayals, the token "Injun" in this film – Minnie Redwing – will probably be unbearable.

Finally, the vaunted visuals of the film only hold for so long. The sparse sets are, well, sparse, and they gradually become boring and a bit claustrophobic. I never thought I would miss Brigadoon or Yolanda and the Thief, but, Lord, if I didn't find myself yearning for the Baroque details of other soundstage worlds.

Interesting and innovative settings and an excellent cast can't save this sophomoric satire. Clooney has a couple of nice songs and proves that she can act a little. Guy Mitchell has a couple of nice songs and proves that he was never meant to be an actor. Worth one viewing for the visuals but rent, don't buy!

In 1872, a jovial-but-formidable stranger (Guy Mitchell) rides into Limbo County, California, on an unknown mission where he engages in contention, friendship, romance and... potentially deadly gunfights. The cast includes the likes of Rosemary Clooney, Jack Carson, Gene Barry and Frank Faylen.

"Red Garters" (1954) is a colorful set-bound Western parody/musical. It's like "The Wizard of Oz" in the cinematic Old West, but without the fantastical elements and a focus on romance and quick-draw silliness, etc.

With a name like "Red Garters" you know one of the highlights is the women. Other than perky Rosemary Clooney (George Clooney's aunt), there's Pat Crowley (Susan), Joanne Gilbert (Sheila) and the several beautiful showgirls who perform inside and outside the saloon.

The movie runs 1 hour, 31 minutes, and was shot at Paramount Studios, Hollywood.

GRADE: B-

Though the bright, almost garish hues of nearly everything in this musical spoof of the western genre might look like it, this one was not produced in VistaVision (as is erroneously stated in another comment), Paramount's "High-Fidelity" motion picture process which didn't make its debut until several months later with the release of "White Christmas" starring Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Vera-Ellen and Rosemary Clooney.

Rosemary has center stage in this one and, though the songs aren't up to Irving Berlin's standards in the later hit, she holds her own against Guy Mitchell's vigorous attempts to upstage her. The overall tone is a bit on the bawdy side but one thing's "fer shure, pardner!", those people behind the Technicolor cameras were given free rein (and probably a pretty hefty budget) to create a look that defines the term: "primary colors." It's not for those who prefer a muted palette or anything subtle about any aspect of their entertainment. As I recall, the ever-prudish Legion of Decency objected to various "suggestive" elements in this one, including costuming and some song lyrics, such as a line about "Try(ing) to be a mother without a man!" (or something to that effect.) Yep! "Red Garters" is definitely one-of-a-kind and I'm hard put to recall anything that attempts to duplicate its uniquely artificial look and its very lively take on the cliches of Hollywood's version of the Old West.

...and the opening credits say as much - but as a one of a kind it's entertaining. The sets are all done in primary colors and are highly stylized reminiscent of the UPA cartoons of the time, which had a considerable impact on art and design. They're more like theater sets than movie scenery.

The plot, such as it is, centers on Rosemary Clooney (who is very good) trying to convince a typically overbearing Jack Carson to marry her. We're expected to believe she would be more entranced by the beefy Carson over the handsome Guy Mitchill, who is a cowboy passing through town. The Jay Livingston and Ray Evans songs are lively if not memorable. Gene Barry does manage to enact a somewhat plausible Mexican. At any rate, he's far more convincing than Cass Daley as a Native American woman who has nothing to do with the story at all. She is covered in very dark "Indian" makeup and spends the film behaving like some kind of nut...it's an appalling performance.