The Half Naked Truth

I was first attracted to "The Half Naked Truth" by the reputation of Lupe Velez. I had encountered her name linked in a romantic but ultimately tragic way to Gary Cooper. They were both reputed to be promiscuous and she at least to be violently jealous. He was mentioned in connection also in her suicide in that he tried to help her but as a married man who had long moved on but remained friends. Further reading suggested she had a very tough childhood the child of a prostitute who would turn tricks herself. So I checked out the movie out of curiosity about her.

As mentioned by other reviewers , Lee Tracy is a driving force in this picture, as the hyper-active scheming cunning press agent, and his pace and presence swept me along in the fun. Yes, his character is a scoundrel. Yet he is an entertaining one that gives a twisted kind of value for his con. That value is delivered by the sexy and always entertaining Velez, she is the payoff that makes most forget that there is a con. However, Jimmy Bates is not just using her he's making her the toast of Broadway.

This story, an early screwball comedy, presents us with two true to life screwballs who create a kind of chemistry that makes a molecule out of elements. When they are together fighting or scheming or making love, sparks are in the air. This is because Velez really is a Mexican spitfire and she gives as good as she gets. Just as Bates is ready to propose to her he discovers her making time with the big-time producer. She also plays a fine fake Princess when he asks it of her. They practically drive each other through the scenes with their energy bouncing off each other and this makes the half naked truth quite a romp.

The supporting cast provide strong support. Eugene Palette takes the sidekick role even further in that he has his own operation going on with chamber maid Shirley Chambers, and he ultimately moves the story along both in the beginning and the end. This is an underrated gem, a veritable diamond in the rough.

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.

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.

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.

A carnival barker crashes onto Broadway, hoping to keep THE HALF NAKED TRUTH secret that both he and his ‘Turkish princess' are as phony as a three dollar bill...

RKO Studios produced this highly amusing, but rarely seen, comedy with flair, exuberance, and first-rate performances. Broadway is given a few lighthearted kicks in the shin by its cinematic cousin and a good time is had by all.

In the kind of role he could almost play in his sleep, Lee Tracy plays an over-the-top promoter who engages in wild escapades to get his ladies noticed by the press & public. He is conniving, untruthful & underhanded; he is also wonderfully funny. Tracy was the master at playing the anti-hero, the unromantic lover, the average-looking guy with the extra moxie it takes to get on top. Had his career not come crashing down around him due to a drunken indiscretion while filming in Mexico for MGM, he would probably today be remembered as one of Hollywood's top stars. As it is, he's lucky to be remembered at all.

Lupe Velez is a terrific foil for Tracy. The Tamale, as he calls her, is pungent, peppery & red hot. As a temperamental hootchy-kootchy dancer who makes it from a carny midway to the Great White Way, she is perfectly cast in what remains one of her best roles. It is sad, however, watching this lively lady, to remember that she would die despondent & alone in 1944, a suicide at 36.

Three top film comics help enliven the proceedings: gravely-voiced Eugene Pallette, who as Tracy's sidekick must impersonate eunuchs & nudists to further the scam; unctuous Franklin Pangborn as an officious hotel clerk; and blustery Frank Morgan as an imperious theatrical impresario who finds himself the target of Tracy's wild schemes.

Movie mavens will recognize celebrated movie composer Max Steiner appearing unbilled as the orchestra leader during Lupe's Broadway rendition of ‘Hey, Mr. Carpenter.'