The Heat's On

I'm a big fan of Mae West, and I waited for years to see this insignificant, forgettable little movie. Although I knew it had gotten bad reviews at the time of its release--- and West herself didn't like it any more than the critics did--- I thought there still might be something in it worth seeing, since it holds such an important place in her career: this was the final movie of her 1930s/1940s "movie star" period. After it was done, West returned to live stage work, recording sessions, and of course her famous nightclub act of the 1950s. She was not to make another film for 27 years (at which time she did the rather infamous "Myra Breckinredge" in 1970).

Seeing "The Heat's On" is an exercise in tedium. I had to literally struggle to stay awake during it. It's not that it's all that horrendously "bad"--- heck, even bad movies can be entertaining for the wrong reasons. This one is just....empty. Completely vapid and forgettable. It's easy to understand why Mae West practically disowned this movie.

The main thing wrong with it is that she isn't in it nearly enough. For the entire first hour, I swear that West had about 6 minutes of total screen time, scattered throughout in a series of VERY short "blink and you'll miss it" scenes. She's got more charisma and screen presence, by far, than anybody else in this thing--- when she's on, you can't take your eyes off her. But you hardly get to see her! Giving West more screen time would have improved this movie immensely, and it's a mystery to me why director Gregory Ratoff didn't understand that.

What makes her absence from the screen even more frustrating, if not downright puzzling, is that so much of this movie is a revue/type *musical* (in neon lights), the type of film that could have shown her at her absolute best. But instead you get one lame song after the other filling the screen; there are singers, dancers, production numbers, showgirls, Latin-flavored guitarists, even a boogie-woogie pianist/singer (blues and jazz great Hazel Scott, playing herself). They all come in, do their thing, leave, and it's on to the next song. With the singular exception of Scott, who is wonderful--- all of this is absolutely and completely forgettable. Most of the singers, the dancers, the songs, the movie itself: it's "B"-grade material at best. We aren't talking MGM-quality here, folks.

Watching this parade of musical mediocrities go by, all you can think of the entire time is "Where IS Mae West??! Why don't they bring her on?" But it never happens until the very end, at which time you'll be practically asleep if you've managed to sit through it all up to that point. It's hard to imagine who might be a fan of this picture.

For what it's worth, West does look pretty good. Always proud of her youthful appearance, she was 50 years old here, but she looks maybe 40-ish, and she's dressed in stylish, contemporary clothes for one of the very few times in her screen career. (Well, except for her very first musical number, in which--- amusingly--- she's in her trademark "gay 90s" garb, looking much like she did in her earlier films).

The story--- what flimsy plot there is of it--- has something to do with Broadway musical star Fay Lawrence (West) getting funding for her next show, and having producers fight over her. But the main point of this movie, and the most amount of screen time, is devoted to the endlessly boring musical numbers. Gentle, befuddled Victor Moore is the primary male lead; and a YOUNG Lloyd Bridges--- yes, he was young once!--- has a featured part as a soldier engaged to Moore's niece.

Not a bad movie, just a boring one, and it missed the boat all around. Mae West deserved better.

Well, after 40 years of reading about this movie, my curiosity has finally been settled! Her last movie before this one-My Little Chickadee-having been released three years previous, Mae West makes one more picture before taking a 27-year sabbatical from Hollywood. However, because she didn't write her material like before, she doesn't have much witty lines and in fact, has small screen time despite her above-the-title billing which she shared with William Gaxton and Victor Moore, both of whom have more scenes. It's with Moore that Ms. West has her one good scene with as she manages to get him drunk while he reveals the crux of the plot. Otherwise, this film is just an excuse to provide musical numbers of either Mae, Xavier Cugat and his Orchestra, or the excellent singing and piano skills of Hazel Scott and excellent Ms. Scott really is! If anyone makes this picture worth seeing, she does! P.S. Lloyd Bridges has a small role as a soldier who visits his girlfriend played by Mary Roche who's only appearance on film this was.

At 49, Mae West appeared in this bagatelle produced and directed by her friend, Gregory Ratoff, who needed a name actor to justify the production, but the main character is a hapless bumpkin, well played by Victor Young. Nearly three decades passed before she appeared in another movie. Even more odd was the brief career, as an actress, of pretty, charming Mary Roche, who played Young's niece, although she went on to work as a hair stylist on eight features, three of them very important ones, beginning with "On the Waterfront" (1954). This story of an attempt to put on a Broadway show goes in one ear and out the other, except for Xavier Cugat and his orchestra and the amazing piano playing of Hazel Scott, who even plays two pianos at once.

An attempt to remake a wartime musical in the old Busby Berkeley style. But Mae West was 50 years old and barely moves or sings; her sharp tongue has also seen better days. Better still is Victor Moore, who, despite his 67 years old, is much more entertaining and active than the popular diva.

The other saving graces are the appearances of singers Joana Thorsen and especially Hazel Scott, not to mention the participation of Xavier Cugat and, above all, his Cuban jazz orchestra, giving the film a picturesque touch.

A weak script, a lightweight, low-budget production, far from the extravagances of Busby Berkeley, this film is mere cheap entertainment, meant to distract viewers during the difficult times of war.

Also noteworthy is the appearance of a young Lloyd Bridges, in a supporting role.

It took three credited screenwriters to come up with this flaccid comedy-musical from Columbia--and not one of them apparently had a sense of humor. Perhaps taking a page from Mae West's real-life tangles with the censors, the bawdy, naughty comedienne is toned way down here in a plot about a musical stage performer who finds herself stuck in a bomb and blames her manager; he gets a bright idea and has the show raided for indecency to drum up business, but the gag goes too far and the show is closed for good. At this point, the foolish scenarists practically lose track of Mae, which is the most indecent thing about the picture! She pops up intermittently, talking on the phone or sitting idly in the theater, but all her charm and smarm has been extinguished (she retired from films for twenty-seven years after this). The manager weasels show money out of a good-natured schnook and puts on a new revue (a nice wholesome one)--and even gets West back in the spotlight--but it's too late. The movie has collapsed around everyone like an exhausted house of cards. *1/2 from ****