The Half Naked Truth

Fast-talking promoter Tracy moves carny dancer Velez from lowly tent act to high-class Broadway using nothing more than wiles and wits.

Too bad we can't hook up Tracy and Velez to a generator, because between them they could whip up enough sheer energy to light a city block plus a few darkened bedrooms. Tracy is in overdrive the entire time, while Velez appears stuck in a permanent hip swivel. Her shimmying version of O Mister Carpenter is a charming show-stopper and, in my book, the movie's highlight.

Tracy, of course, specialized in these machine-gun roles. Here he's totally convincing, but not very likable, as the high-powered con man never at a loss for words or an under- handed scheme. As an actor, his average looks and lack of leading-man charisma add up to an odd commodity for glamour-obsessed Hollywood. Still, he's such a whirlwind of activity, you hardly notice. As for Velez, if she's an example of Mexican womanhood, then I say let's open the borders.

Add such colorful supporting players as Palette, Pangborn, and Morgan, plus lots of pre- Code innuendo, all whipped into a crowd pleasing mix by ace director LaCava, and you've got an amusing dish, even 80 years later. And, oh yes, as to the movie's big mystery—is the rotund Palette actually a harem-guarding eunuch in disguise? Just check out that deep froggy voice for a pre-Code answer.

Lee Tracy is a name few would remember today. However, for just a few years in the 1930s, he was a hot commodity--playing in some top films for top studios like RKO, Fox, Warner Brothers and MGM. So what happened to him? Well, he had two huge problems--he was typecast as the same sort of fast- talking sharpie (often a reporter or confidence man) AND he was an idiot. I really hate to be so blunt, but his off-camera behaviors severely alienated him and the studios apparently tired of working with him and apologizing for his actions.

In "The Half Naked Truth", Tracy plays a very typical sort of role--the fast-talking showman who lies, tells half-truths and promotes his girlfriend, Lupe Valez, from a cheesy carnival sideshow act to the toast of Broadway. However ridiculous this was (as Valez' character had no discernible talent and the charisma of a case of the clap), the film is entertaining on a basic level. Don't think too much and you can enjoy it. So why did I give it only a 6? Well, it broke absolutely no new ground and Tracy's role is almost exactly like 1472343 others I've seen him do. In other words, it's fun but lacked originality to make it worthy of a higher score.

Lee Tracy, too little known today, is one of the all-time great comic actors and a personal favorite of mine. He was the original Hildy Johnson in The Front Page on Broadway and although his major films are not numerous, each is a delight. Blessed Event with co-star Dick Powell and Bombshell with co-star Jean Harlow are gems long beloved by Thirties film buffs, but even they may not have seen The Half-Naked Truth, which is a pure jolt of the Lee Tracy magic. His physical and vocal presence are uniquely and unmistakably his: the lankily elastic body, the whirling-dervish energy, the sarcastic tone, the long fingers that always seem to be jabbing in someone's direction. There's not another screen actor I can think of who has quite the manic joie de vivre of the young Tracy. In The Half-Naked Truth, he plays a carnival barker and theatrical promoter who will go to any insane lengths to hog headlines (a very contemporary figure for us!). He's paired with Lupe "Mexican Spitfire" Velez, who proves to be an extremely apt partner for him; you believe in these two together, and that makes their final scene surprisingly emotional. (Tracy's magnetism definitely has its romantic aspect; watching Bombshell, an audience can be driven to heights of frustration waiting for Tracy and Harlow to realize that they are, in fact, perfect for one another.) The wonderful ending of The Half-Naked Truth also crystallizes the Tracy credo in a single line: "What good is life if you don't get some fun out of it?" You can have some of that fun by watching this film.

This wonderfully ribald pre-code comedy is slightly schizophrenic in style. The first half is a breakneck-paced, rollicking sequence of frantic melees and stinging one-liners, not unlike Lee Tracy's other triumphs of the time, The Front Page and Blessed Event. Once the cast settles in on Broadway, the pace slows and the humour is more characteristic of director LaCava -- absurd situational comedy set up with deliberate pace and milked for effect. Although quite funny in its own right, this section seems to drag in comparison with the opening reels -- it may have worked better in a packed cinema than on the tube.

In any case, this is a must-see for fans of pre-code antics -- there's no way it could have been made three years later. Tracy is terrific in his patented role as a fast-talking con artist, and Lupe Velez is a more lurid version of her Mexican Spitfire -- her minimal costumes rival those of a Busby Berkeley chorus girl. Frank Morgan is perfect as a libidinous Ziegfeld type, Franklin Pangborn is everyone's favourite fastidious concierge, and Eugene Pallette is victim to a hilarious running gag about his gender which alone is worth the price of admission -- he also has a unique method for tutoring fledgling Ophelias. There's an intriguing look at the 30s' conception of nudism, to boot.

Obviously I don't hate the actor Lee Tracy but I do find his movie persona the most annoying and unlikeable character Hollywood has ever spat out. By virtue of excellent writing his obnoxiousness is made to work perfectly in this surprisingly entertaining picture.

It was because the detestable Tracy was in this which deterred me from watching this for years but I'm so glad I did. It just goes to show what a difference a good writer and director ( in this case the same guy, Gregory LaCava) can make. It's no great classic but it's perfectly paced with just the right balance between fun and drama. I actually laughed out loud at one point - and that's a rarity for a miserable old sod like me. As much as Tracy is tolerable in this he's still unlikeable so unlike say Cagney, who could have carried this off so much better, he's not a loveable rogue, just a rogue.

Tracy isn't actually top billed in this, that plaudit goes to Lupe Vélez. If she's looking down on us now I think she'd be both bemused and absolutely delighted to know that ninety years after making this that men would still find her performance so crazily sexy. She really wasn't a very good actress but wow, dressed in the naughtiest outfits of 1932 like a member of The Pussycat Dolls, she really is a sight to behold!