Show Girl in Hollywood

"Show Girl in Hollywood," from a novel by satirist J.P. McEvoy, follows the titular showgirl, Dixie Dugan (Alice White), from understudy in a Broadway flop ("Rainbow Girl") to lead in the Hollywood movie version. John Miljan is effective as the unscrupulous film director who has seen the flop several times (in order to steal its plot) and invites Dugan to his studio where he tries but fails to put the make on her. Blanche Sweet makes a memorable appearance as an older star, forgotten by age 32, who befriends Dixie. In the middle of a conversation about the fleeting nature of fame, she breaks – or, more accurately, segues – into song ("For Every Smile There's a Tear in Hollywood"). There is something brazen and bizarre about this moment when the film suddenly switches gears and Sweet half sings and half speaks the mournful lyric.

Later, we get to see a full scale production number ("I've Got My Eye on You") not only from the usual angles but also from the perspective of the camera operators (behind glass screens to drown the whirring camera motors), the sound recordists, the live orchestra and even the performers themselves, with the arc lights and footlights glaring into their/our faces. Before the finale, we are treated to the arrival of top Hollywood stars to the premiere of the fictional film within a film: Al Jolson and Ruby Keeler and a 17-year-old Loretta Young among them. The finale itself, the rousing and catchy "Hang on to a Rainbow," was shot in Technicolor, to judge by the unusually fuzzy quality of the surviving black-and-white version of the scene. It must have been quite something, with rows of chorus members in elaborate feathery costumes which must have been multicolored and the star appearing at the last moments in a sensational spiked headdress festooned with five-pointed stars.

Alice White is saucy and photogenic and moves very well (according to IMDb her singing is dubbed) but has a tongue-in-cheek way of speaking which occasionally works but is just as often inappropriate to the situation. The witlessness of much of the dialogue also hampers her, as she is called upon to deliver too many thudding lines. In almost every scene she wears a cloche hat from the front of which a curlicue of her blonde hair protrudes. A bit much!

If you're fascinated by early "talkie" musicals, this should be considered a must-see. There's a lot to like about it, most especially, its three lead performers (Alice White, Jack Mulhall and Blanche Sweet). Alice White is adorable as 'Dixie Dugan'--and is ably assisted by Mulhall as her steadfast beau. Mulhall is largely forgotten today, though he shows a fresh naturalness in an era when many actors seemed strait-jacketed by the new technology of sound (the fact that Mulhall had already been acting in films for over 20 years when this one was made may have helped!). Blanche Sweet has some touching moments as the premature 'has-been' actress, 'Donnie Harris'. The film moves along fairly briskly, under the direction of Mervyn LeRoy (in one of his earliest feature film directing assignments). I was struck by the scoring of the film, too. It effectively uses the featured tunes in different variations that are unusually subtle for that era (presumably, scored by Leo Forbstein). The 'big finale' is fairly typical of early talkie musicals--and one can imagine how much more effective it must have been when it was originally released in early Technicolor (no color copy of the final reel is known to exist). All-in-all, a pleasant and appealing little film that's surely worth a peek.

"Show Girl in Hollywood" (First National, 1930), directed by Mervyn LeRoy, stars that pert blonde, Alice White, as Dixie Dugan, show girl from Brooklyn, a role she originated in the part-talkie, "Show Girl" (First National, 1928). In that earlier edition, Charles Delaney co-starred as her love interest, Jimmie Doyle, a role enacted here by Jack Mulhall. Based on the comic strip character, this musical sequel, based "Hollywood Girl" by Joseph Patrick McEvoy, is an interesting look back at the studio system in the days of early talkies, with added treats of non-credited guest stars as legendary singer, Al Jolson and his then wife, Ruby Keeler (in non-speaking parts); Loretta Young, Noah Berry and his son, Noah Beery Jr., all briefly glimpsed in the movie premiere sequence; along with the youthful but almost unrecognizable, Walter Pidgeon, as master of ceremonies at the Hollywood gathering.

Opening inter-title: "Jimmie Doyle's musical show, 'RAINBOW GIRL' opened and closed." Regardless of its two-week run for which Dixie Dugan (Alice White) worked as an understudy, playwright Jimmie Doyle (Jack Mulhall) intends on improving the story, this time giving his girl, Dixie, the nominal lead, which she should ha played in the first place. Escorted to a nightclub by Jimmy, Dixie does a number for its visiting guest, Frank Buelow (John Miljan), a movie director from Hollywood. Taking an interest in this free-spirited girl, Buelow persuades Dixie to come to Hollywood and appear in his forthcoming motion picture. Going against Jimmy's wishes, Dixie takes the next train west, sending her occasional telegrams to Jimmy at his Brooklyn residence: 41 Pineapple Street. While in Hollywood, Dixie's meeting with Sam Otis's (Ford Sterling), the production head, proves shattering when she is told she's one of many girls tricked into coming to the studio only to learn no such arrangements have been made. Along the way, Dixie learns more of the downside of Hollywood when she meets and befriends her favorite movie actress, Dottie Harris (Blanche Sweet), now a 32-year-old has-been. Not only does Dottie get the runaround from Buelow, her former husband, but must accept the fact she's only just a memory. As fate would have it, Sam Otis acquires the script of "Rainbow Girl" which he likes, and sends for its author, Jimmy Doyle. During their meeting, both Jimmie and Otis agree its leading lady should be Dixie Dugan. All goes well during production of the movie until Dixie meets with Buelow, now fired by the industry. Buelow, however, manages in changing the sweet innocent girl into a temperamental and conceited actress, causing friction and delays that could literally put an end to Dixie's film career before it's even started.

A distinguished early talkie with acceptable tunes by Buddy Green and Sammy Stept, include: "I've Got My Eye on You" (sung by Alice White); "There's a Tear for Every Smile in Hollywood" (sung by Blanche Sweet); "I've Got My Eye on You" (reprise) and "Hang on to the Rainbow" (Alice White). Of the three song interludes, only "Rainbow" gets the production number A portion of the "Rainbow" number was used for the final chapter to the 13-week documentary of Kevin Brownlow and David Gill's Hollywood: The End of an Era (1980).

Blanche Sweet (1895-1986), a long time veteran actress of the silent screen dating back to 1909, is quite effective as a drifting movie queen who becomes Dixie Dugan's guide through the studio system. Her vocalizing to a sentimental tune revealing the happiness and hardship of Hollywood comes very much as a surprise as does her character, limited somewhat in the photo-play yet crucial to the story. Film buffs would also delight in witnessing the behind-the-scenes activity of movie making, then called "Vitaphoning." Also taking part in the supporting cast are Herman Bing, Virginia Sale and Spec O'Donnell.

Although the "Dixie Dugan" character would never be enacted by Alice White again, further adventures of this comic strip character would be revamped and reintroduced to the screen again as a programmer titled DIXIE DUGAN (20th Century-Fox, 1943) starring Lois Andrews in the title role. An attempt for a movie series based on that character never got past the initial entry.

While "Show Girl in Hollywood" remains a rare find indeed, it did consist of several television broadcasts during its early stages of Turner Classic Movies cable channel . As it stands for now, this and other Dixie Dugan stories remain, "just a memory." (*** Vitaphone discs)

Although this 1930 film is clunky and fraught with (what we now know to be) film cliches, it is worth seeing -- if only for the outstanding performance of one-time silent-film great Blanche Sweet. Without realizing who it was, I kept marveling at her poignant, true portrayal of a washed up silent screen star (clearly, almost autobiographical). What a brilliant choice to cast her. Imagine my surprise after the film when we rewound to the credits!

A fine, unjustly overlooked gem of early filmmaking (that has songs, to boot).

An early cautionary tale about the business of Hollywood and what it does to young women, and a film that's a vehicle for both Alice White and Vitaphone technology. It's not going to blow you away with its plot, as it's been done countless times, and much better too. The comedy elements in the script are weak, and you can see events coming long before they happen. However, there were enough other little elements in the film that it held my interest.

Some of those little extras include seeing Hollywood sights of the era, such as the Roosevelt Hotel (which is still there), the Café Montmartre, and the early studio lots. We also get a brief yet fascinating look into the process of making films during this period, with the Vitaphone technology (sound recorded on a separate disk) requiring noisy film cameras to be housed in soundproof booths. That's the main reason early sound films often appear so stagey, with a static camera - they were in these kinds of booths. Lastly, we get a film premier and red carpet cameo appearances from Al Jolson, Ruby Keeler, Loretta Young, and Noah Beery Sr. and Jr.

Unfortunately, as svelte and adorable as Alice White is with her Betty Boop eyes, she's not very strong at delivering her lines. Her best moments come while sashaying out of a giant clown face on stage and singing "I've Got My Eye on You" at about the 40 minute point, otherwise, don't expect much. Easily upstaging her is Blanche Sweet, who is wonderful as the has-been starlet (lol at age 34), looking at the newcomer with a sigh and a warning. She's the only good actor in the cast, and conveys real melancholy through her eyes and the way she moves. As this was her penultimate film after a career spanning 21 years (aside from a small part in 1959's The Five Pennies), there is a special meaning to everything she does here.

Overall, certainly not a great film, and one that could be easily skipped, so I'm probably rounding it up based on my love for the era, and for Blanche Sweet.