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The Half Naked Truth is directed by Gregory La Cava who also co-writes the screenplay with Corey Ford from a story by Ben Markson and H.N. Swanson. It stars Lupe Velez, Lee Tracy, Eugene Palette and Frank Morgan. Music is by Max Steiner and cinematography by Bert Glennon.

A carnival barker and a spunky belly dancer take on the might of Broadway...

Based on the book The Anatomy of Ballyhoo: Phantom Fame (David Freedman & Harry Reichenbach), The Half Naked Truth is a smart and near caustic observation on the product of celebrity status. While not in the same league as the best of Preston Sturges, it's a film of many pleasures if you have a bent for rapid fire dialogue and scattergun pacing. What unfolds during the story is basically that an energetic Lee Tracy as Bates pulls stunts galore to bluff the whole of Broadway. The ruse is that Velez's belly dancer is actually a foreign princess and Bates engineers openings to stardom because of it. But of course problems are around the corner.

Sharp performances back up the sharp script and some of the stunts pulled by Bates are very funny. It's something of an acquired taste, as comedy - especially the screwball variety - invariably always is, but this is a good pre-code comedy that has more beneath the surface than is first apparent. 7/10

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!

The Half-Naked Truth is like a machine gun on steroids, a super-fast paced movie and a stage for Hollywood's greatest carnival barker, Lee Tracy. Tracy spends the entire 75 minutes racing at break-neck speed through miles of monologue - because his character never talks with, only at, those around him - and it's wonderfully exhausting to keep up with him.

Eugene Palette plays one of the funnier roles I have ever seen him in. He's supposed to be Tracy's assistant, but he's not above pulling his own shenanigans on the side, particularly with respect to giving "private" acting lessons to a rather reluctant hotel maid.

At least a couple of the other reviewers here, unfortunately, have got the running gag about Pallete's sexuality wrong: as per Tracy's publicity idea, Palette, complete with turban, is fresh out of a Turkish princess's harem. The idea is NOT that he is a woman, but that he is a EUNUCH. And the movie revisits this inside joke a few times, always to the understandable indignation of Mr. Palette himself!

The plot itself really stretches credibility, but it doesn't matter. It's a fun and quick ride, so just enjoy.

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.

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.