Vertige

"Puttin' on the Ritz" (United Artists, 1930), directed by Edward Sloman, marks the movie debut of then popular night club entertainer Harry Richman (1895-1972). He plays Harry Raymond, a song promoter working at Wagner Music Publishers. After he meets Dolores Fenton (Joan Bennett), the two team up and rise to fame with their signature number, "With You." With the passing of time, Harry opens his own night club and becomes the singing sensation. Success eventually goes to Harry's head, causing him to shun his old friends in favor of being in with the society swells, causing Dolores to walk out on him for being so conceited. During a drunken frenzy at a party, Henry drinks some bad liquor which causes his blindness. The society crowd bid him farewell while his closest friend, Jimmy (James Gleason), sticks by him. However, as a favor to Harry, Jimmy is sworn not to tell Dolores of his unfortunate circumstance. What happens before the final fadeout will be up to the viewer to find out.

Musical drama with music and lyrics by Irving Berlin include such tunes, mostly sung by Richman, as: "I'll Get By" (by Roy Turk and Fred Ahlert); "With You," "I'll Get By" (reprise); "Singing a Vagabond Song" (by Sam Messenheimer and Val Burton); "With You" (reprise); "Puttin' on the Ritz," "There's Danger in Your Eye, Cherie" (by Harry Richman and Jack Meskill); "Puttin' on the Ritz" (reprise); "Singing a Vagabond Song" (reprise); "Alice in Wonderland" (performed by Joan Bennett, sung by unknown and unseen vocalist); and "With You" (reprise/finale).

Although the opening credits list production number "Alice in Wonderland" to be presented in Technicolor, it exists today only in black and white. Originally released in theaters at 88 minutes, current TV prints, which can be seen occasionally on American Movie Classics, run 69 minutes, which explains not only why the story plays so fast, but the sudden appearance of Goldie Devere (Lilyan Tashman) with the three central characters (Richman, Bennett and Gleason) after they are seen leaving Wagner Publishers as a threesome and entering a theater in the rain as a foursome in the very next scene. Tashman's character in the plot development phase and some other dialogue scenes are possibly part of the now missing 20 minutes of footage. But as what I can figure out, Goldie is Dolores's roommate who later becomes Jimmy's partner and wife.

Early talkie musical with lavish sets is occasionally entertaining, somewhat better than some of Hollywood's other primitive musicals at the time, but it really comes to life during the musical interludes. The production number, "Puttin' on the Ritz" plays loud and fast, but the choreography, compliments of Maurice L. Kusell, is really no threat to Busby Berkeley. Harry Richman, whose movie career was all too brief, is an adequate singer with a style all his own, but sometimes gives the impression to be too full of himself, and while Joan Bennett isn't a great singer, this cute blonde manages to get by as long as she has Harry.

Also in the supporting cast are Aileen Pringle, Purnell B. Pratt and Richard Tucker. "Puttin' on the Ritz" is worth a look mainly for those curious about the movie in itself or those who are entertained in watching primitive "talkie" musicals decades before lavish Technicolor and stereophonic sound set in. One final note: Listen to the lyrics to the title song, and compare it with the lyrics sung by Fred Astaire 16 years later in "Blue Skies" (Paramount, 1946). Same score but different wording. (***)

Goodness me, that was a bit depressing. If you drink alcohol, you go blind! If you pull your plonker, you go blind. You can't do anything that is fun otherwise you will go blind. Who is putting this nonsense forward as factual?

Harry Richman (Harry) is a singer songwriter who makes it big and leaves his friends behind only to get his comeuppance. Can ex-partner Joan Bennett (Dolores) forgive him?

The story is a bit boring and doesn't flow because chunks of the storyline have been edited out. Don't watch for that. See the film for 3 of the musical segments - the song "With You", the weird Alice in Wonderland section and the standout "Puttin' on the Ritz" which is without doubt the best version of the song put on film. This alone makes the film keeping onto as well as it being an interesting museum piece and time capsule with the film sets.

Since _Movie Mirror_ did a fine job of outlining the movie, I won't go into the plot too much. But there are some odd bits I'd like to comment on:

Everything seems to happen quickly in this movie, with the characters' lives changing every few scenes. Harry and Dolores get engaged to each other almost immediately. Harry instantly becomes a star, and wastes no time in starting up his own restaurant/club. Then, before you know it, he goes blind from some bad whisky. Ahh, to be amongst the beautiful people...

The stage sets in the bigger production numbers are beautiful, especially during the title song, where the backdrop of bobbing buildings is quite surreal. Just imagine what it would have been like, to be in the audience at that moment.

Overall, it's fairly easy to tell that this is an early talkie movie. The actress playing Dolores occasionally looks like she's acting in silent pictures. The shallow plot is strung out by a bad case of "excessive musical number-itis". And Harry's voice becomes increasingly difficult to tolerate/take seriously. But it's a good time, and an interesting point in the history of cinema.

"Puttin' on the Ritz" is an early sound picture by a small production company, Feature Productions, that made just 41 pictures, and after Al Jolson's "Halleluiah, I'm a Bum" of 1933, went out of business. And, the technical quality of this film shows much of the early woes of filmmaking of all of Hollywood during the transition from silent to sound pictures.

But this film may be of interest to movie buffs for a number of reasons. The music is by Irving Berlin, and that makes it quite good. It's the first silver screen production of Berlin's "Puttin' on the Ritz," a very popular tune, that is so catchy that it has become popular a couple of times since then, if not on the music bandstands, then in movies with historical settings. Harry Richman was the first to sing the song that was written for him - 16 years before Fred Astaire would revive it in "Blue Skies." But, that wasn't even the first after Richman's debut of the song. Astaire's performance was a dazzling one that featured his solo dancing. While Richman also did some hoofing, he was mostly known for his singing. His voice was a tenor with a sound that was later identified as "megaphone."

Then, with that number and some others, this small film company staged a lavish production with numbers that had dozens of dancers, and a set with painted skyscrapers that bent, waved, and swayed to the music. It's a pretty amazing show of stage craft and artistry of the time. When the 21st century is so used to CGI and other screen trickery, it's something to imagine that audiences actually saw such creative things that were all done mechanically and by hand.

This is one of just five films that Harry Richman made, so it's a look at that entertainer who was mostly known and hailed for vaudeville and his night club performances in New York and other cities. Another reviewer, kidboots, gives some interesting background on Richman.

Another unusual aspect of this film is its considerable portrayal of a staged "Alice in Wonderland" show. Again, this is on stage, performed before an audience, all of which is filmed for this movie. Just look at the extent to which the makers created the costumes for the characters in Alice. Joan Bennett was just 20 years old and this was just her second co-starring role after "The Mississippi Gambler" of 1929. Bennett wasn't a singer, so the scene in which the audience wants her to sing is part of the story in which Richman then saves her by joining in the duet from the balcony.

As for the plot, it may be the earliest version in sound pictures of a story that has been played a number of times. An entertainer becomes very famous, and his (or her) success goes to his head and he forgets his former friends, turns to drink or drugs, and falls into infamy. In this one, and with a few more films, the discarded lover comes to the rescue.

I know of one other film in which a top star performs "Puttin' on the Ritz." As unlikely as it seems, it was Clark Gable. And he was quite good, singing and dancing the number with a bevy of girls in his troupe, in the 1939 film, "Idiot's Delight." That's a good comedy and satire just before WW II, with an impressive cast. In addition to Gable, it has Norma Shearer, Ed Arnold, Charles Coburn, Burgess Meredith, and Joseph Schildkraut. That film's worth watching just to see Gable doing "The Ritz."

Here are my favorite lines from this film.

James Tierney, "So you finally went and done it!" Harry Raymond, "How many times have I gotta tell ya never to say you went and done it?" Tierney, "Neve mind my grammar."

Harry Raymond, "I was too good for her when I was a success. Well, she's too good for me now. And what's more, know it."

There were a lot of musicals made in the early talkie era of Hollywood, and "Puttin' on the Ritz" is one of the more inept ones. It's a creaky backstage musical where the singing and dancing exists because the characters are theatrical performers, but the musical-within-the-musical is a revue--a variety of melodies unrelated to the outer narrative. Most of the numbers are bland or mawkish. The eponymous "Puttin' on the Ritz" may be the best, but you can see it performed much better in "Young Frankenstein" (1974). There's also an "Alice in Wonderland" tune (reused for the opening of the 1931 adaptation of Lewis Carroll's book), which is jazzy and was probably more appealing in its original two-strip Technicolor (as with the rest of the picture, it exists today only in black and white), but is placed within this narrative as if arranged by Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Among other things, the Alice books are remarkable for their lack of a moral--at least, they don't contain the usual blatant and trite lecture. This is the last big number in a film, however, that is all about blatant and trite lecturing.

Not only is this early talkie blind musically, the filmmaking and acting tend to be tolerable at best and atrocious at worst. "Puttin' on the Ritz" begins with some nice tracking shots, but this seems to be an instance of a popular stratagem whereby a film begins with interesting cinematography or editing to disguise the fact that the rest of the picture is primitively composed. The acting is dreadful, too, including by Harry Richman and Joan Bennett. Poor direction, framing and editing surely did them no favors, either. The line readings are bad, and they often don't even seem to know how to stand or move their bodies naturally. James Gleason is a bit better only because he does his usual schtick. Oh, and the moral is that fame and fortune leads to Richman's character, Harry Raymond, becoming arrogant, as well as a joke to high-society types and a jerk to his former friends. The resolution is ridiculously punitive, although it's a good analogy for the entire production overall being blind.