A Verdade Semi-Nua

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.

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.

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!

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.'