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.

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 ****

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.

Although Mae West receives first billing, she is not on screen long enough to make this misfire worth seeing. Even when she is on display and looking svelte and glamorous at 50, her lines lack the double-entendres and sly delivery of her best work. The silly goings on in this back-stage "comedy" revolve around financing a theatrical production with money from a blue-nose group whose goal is to suppress such shows. The plot is muddled at best, ridiculous at worst, and the cast lacks either a romantic lead such as Cary Grant or a comic like W.C. Fields for Miss West to play off. The production numbers for the most part are forgettable, even when Mae West delivers the songs. The one exception is the dazzling piano playing by Hazel Scott. Her number with two pianos is nothing short of astonishing and almost makes the dreck one has to endure before her appearance almost bearable. Unfortunately, Scott has only two numbers, but mercifully the film ends rather abruptly not long after she exits the screen. "The Heat's On" is certainly an ironically mis-titled film considering the heat that West generated in her early work, and the movie is only for die-hard West fans who are interested in seeing everything that she appeared in. Entertainment seekers and non-West fans beware.

Broadway star Fay Lawrence (Mae West) wants out of her contract with producer Tony Ferris (William Gaxton). She can do it if the show does badly. A society foundation shuts them down and she jumps to rival Forrest Stanton. Tony is willing to do anything to get her back including using the same foundation and its hapless vice president Hubert Bainbridge (Victor Moore) who wants to help his niece's performing ambitions.

This is Mae West's last theatrical release before making a semi-return some three decades later. She delivers her style of comedy with less sexuality. There is some music. The songs may be appealing to some. For most of this, the lead character is actually Ferris. He's not that compelling or appealing with all his scheming. If this was written by Mae West, she would probably be the lead from the start. She does take over in the last act and that's a good section. If only the movie has more of those.