Alegria de Viver

As a whole, "Stand Up and Cheer" is quite a mess. The story that frames the musical numbers is silly and poorly executed, the musical numbers are rather drab and rife with racial stereotyping. But, most people who've sought out this film are watching it for one reason-Shirley Temple.

Temple and James Dunn are really the only bright spots in this production. Their on screen rapport is magic, and contrary to what others have stated, they BOTH hold their own during their crowd pleasing number "Baby, Take a Bow," in my opinion.

Truly a product of it's day. It's widely reported that this film brought smiles to the faces of many, and try as I may to ignore it's racial stereotypes, and bland dialogue, somehow the whole thing doesn't work.

But, as I have already mentioned, Jimmy and Shirley are pure magic.

With the country in the throes of the Great Depression, the President calls upon a celebrated Broadway impresario to become the first Secretary of Amusement, in the hopes that Americans can beat hard times by learning to smile, laugh, and, eventually, STAND UP AND CHEER!

It is always vital when examining old films to try to be sensitive to their context within their own time frames. Important movies of 70 years ago may look terribly trite now through absolutely no fault of their own. Judging by today's standards can often lead to pitfalls.

That having been stated, however, it is difficult to appreciate this film without seeing it for what it is: undeniably silly. And racist. And even a bit bizarre at times. But it contains one great jewel...

Earnest Warner Baxter & lovely Madge Evans certainly give the plot a try, but the script is dead set against them all the way, making him encourage hillbilly singers as the remedy for the nation's economic woes and having her mope about lovelorn & lonely.

As Aunt Jemima, blackfaced singer Tess Gardella (very popular at the time on Broadway's Show Boat) and especially Stepin Fetchit are embarrassingly stereotyped. It should be noted, however, that this sort of racial belittlement was not unusual in the Hollywood of the 1930's.

The physical, knockdown humor of Frank Mitchell & Jack Durant, playing a couple of zany U. S. Senators, is very odd & no longer funny. Odder still is the penguin that thinks he's Jimmy Durante.

Familiar faces show up from time to time - Nigel Bruce, Ralph Morgan, little Our Gang kid Scotty Beckett, warbling John Boles - but they are quickly submerged by the plot.

In the midst of all this clutter of mismatched parts, when all might be given up for lost, comes five-year-old Shirley Temple and she is an utter joy.

Shirley had already appeared in a series of features & shorts. But it was here, singing & dancing - and completely obliterating poor James Dunn who played her father - that the situation was ripe for her to march straight into the nation's heart. In 1935 Shirley would begin to star in her string of classic family films, and, with the death of Marie Dressler in July of 1934, the mighty moppet was to begin her reign as Hollywood's number one box office attraction.

So, with the arrival of Shirley Temple, we do indeed have much for which to STAND UP AND CHEER!

A musical with a short running time and the original concept of a Broadway producer being appointed as the secretary of amusement by the U.S president . This becomes an excuse for a series of song and dance and cabaret skits with a loose plot which includes a cursory love story and some political skullduggery. Most of the song and dance numbers are tedious but it is interesting to see an early appearance from Shirley Temple. The comedy skits are rather better with Mitchell and Durant doing some wonderful acrobatics and Nigel Bruce, 14th billed as Dinwiddie, being droll, though his appearances are disappointingly fleeting (apparently there are 12 minutes lost from the original cut). Stepin Fetchit's antics will divide modern audiences in this P.C age!

There's a famous story about President Herbert C. Hoover meeting Rudy Vallee during the midst of his term which as we know coincided with the Great Depression. Hoover supposedly said to Vallee it would be great if he could sing some hit song that would make people forget their troubles, economic and otherwise.

Well maybe that story got back to the ears of Will Rogers because he was the one who came up with the idea of a Cabinet position for Secretary of Amusement. Maybe Rogers had himself in mind for the job, he was sure doing it unofficially.

Fox was Rogers's home studio, but he makes no appearance here. Instead the president of the United States hires Warner Baxter for that job.

Baxter essentially reprises his role of Julian Marsh the driven director from 42nd Street. I guess the money from that hit show didn't last long for Baxter so he's got this job.

But can you imagine; instead of trying to get financial backers for a show, Baxter goes before a Congressional committee for an appropriation? I'm not sure which is a worse ordeal.

So the movie is Baxter trying to find a talent enough for a big extravaganza that will do what Herbert Hoover wanted from only one song.

Stand Up and Cheer survives today because of the appearance of Shirley Temple, on her way to becoming the movies' biggest box office attraction of the decade. She only does one number here, with hoofer James Dunn as her father. But it's one of her biggest, Baby Take a Bow.

If it weren't for Shirley, the film would have been a curious forgotten relic of some very tough times. Still it's worth watching for more than just Shirley Temple.

The portrayals of African American characters in this movie are, as has been pointed out, stereotypical, but I would like to suggest that where the actors themselves are allowed to show their talents, they transcend the stereotypes in ways even the filmmakers themselves recognized.

Take, for example, the show-stopping finale to "I'm Laughing," performed by Tess Gardella. There are a series of tableaux in this number, of various individuals all representing different marginalized groups: Immigrants, sweatshop workers, laborers of all kinds, all leading up to Tess Gardella herself busting out with the biggest, cheeriest performance of all, surrounded by a rousing, dancing chorus. It was clearly meant to recap the song's theme--if I can laugh, as downtrodden as I am, so can you--and to embody those who persevere and triumph over circumstance. With a swish of her ample hips and a gleam in her eye, Ms. Gardella triumphs.

The standard Stepin Fetchit routine has been analyzed everywhere, but let me just add that in this picture, the actor personifies African American resistance. In 1934 Black men were still not free from the vicious system of racial etiquette known as Jim Crow, and were therefore limited in the number of personae they were allowed to display. The genius of Stepin Fetchit is that he acts out the prescribed social role while frustrating those who prescribe it by withholding his intelligence and personality from the social interaction altogether. He slyly gives white people exactly what they demand,nothing more, forcing them to realize that perhaps that's not what they want after all. The resistance is his and the joke is on them.