Despite its Oscar nomination for Best Original Story, the plot of "Broadway Melody of 1936" could fit on a toothpick. And what little there is moves forward at a glacial pace, completely stopped from time to time by a lavish musical number warbled out in supreme 1930s style.
Though I prefer musicals post-"Oklahoma!", when songs were integrated into the plot rather than existing as stand-alone numbers strung together by the thinnest of stories, I'm not resistant to the charms of these more antiquated examples of the genre. "42nd Street," from a couple of years before this film, is one of the best movies of the 1930s, while a couple of the Astaire/Rogers films from the same decade are some of the best movies ever made, period. No, my problem is that "Broadway Melody of 1936" just isn't very good. It sits in that awkward place between stage vaudeville and movie musical, not completely one or the other, and not harnessing the best attributes of either. The humor is broad and tired -- a running gag about a snore expert wears out its welcome the moment it's introduced. Famous showman Buddy Ebsen has a small role that showcases his singing and dancing abilities, but he uses the opportunity to give one of the most bizarre performances captured on screen. I'm not sure whether his decision to deliver all of his lines as if he's just starting to feel the effects of swallowing a handful of sleeping pills was his choice or the director's, but it was the wrong choice in either case. The only asset the film has is Eleanor Powell, who's certainly no musical comedy legend, but does display some impressive hoofing, and gives the film the only jolt of energy it manages to muster in a tap dance routine she performs in a slinky black dress and without any musical accompaniment. The rest of the film is a bore that I had trouble staying awake for.
Even with 12 Best Picture nominees in 1935, it is inexplicable that this film managed to snag a nomination for the big prize, when films like "Bride of Frankenstein" and Hitchcock's "The 39 Steps" were left off the list. The film's only real point of interest is the "I've Got a Feeling You're Fooling" number, which won film choreographer Dave Gould the inaugural Oscar for Best Dance Direction, a category that would only survive for three years before being abandoned by the Academy.
Grade: D
Though I prefer musicals post-"Oklahoma!", when songs were integrated into the plot rather than existing as stand-alone numbers strung together by the thinnest of stories, I'm not resistant to the charms of these more antiquated examples of the genre. "42nd Street," from a couple of years before this film, is one of the best movies of the 1930s, while a couple of the Astaire/Rogers films from the same decade are some of the best movies ever made, period. No, my problem is that "Broadway Melody of 1936" just isn't very good. It sits in that awkward place between stage vaudeville and movie musical, not completely one or the other, and not harnessing the best attributes of either. The humor is broad and tired -- a running gag about a snore expert wears out its welcome the moment it's introduced. Famous showman Buddy Ebsen has a small role that showcases his singing and dancing abilities, but he uses the opportunity to give one of the most bizarre performances captured on screen. I'm not sure whether his decision to deliver all of his lines as if he's just starting to feel the effects of swallowing a handful of sleeping pills was his choice or the director's, but it was the wrong choice in either case. The only asset the film has is Eleanor Powell, who's certainly no musical comedy legend, but does display some impressive hoofing, and gives the film the only jolt of energy it manages to muster in a tap dance routine she performs in a slinky black dress and without any musical accompaniment. The rest of the film is a bore that I had trouble staying awake for.
Even with 12 Best Picture nominees in 1935, it is inexplicable that this film managed to snag a nomination for the big prize, when films like "Bride of Frankenstein" and Hitchcock's "The 39 Steps" were left off the list. The film's only real point of interest is the "I've Got a Feeling You're Fooling" number, which won film choreographer Dave Gould the inaugural Oscar for Best Dance Direction, a category that would only survive for three years before being abandoned by the Academy.
Grade: D