1933: Sheer Entertainment

Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933)
Directed by Mervyn LeRoy
Numbers created and directed by Busby Berkeley
97 min.; U.S.A.; Black and White; Mono

So, what is a gold digger anyway?

Gold•Digger
noun, informal
A person who dates others purely to extract money from them, in particular a woman who strives to marry a wealthy man.

Got it. This week I screened Gold Diggers of 1933, my first viewing of a movie that features Busby Berkeley's dance direction. The film is a backstage musical about a group of unemployed Broadway chorus girls on a quest to land work, find financial security, and fall in love in the midst of the Great Depression. Polly (Ruby Keeler) falls for her songsmith neighbor, Brad (Dick Powell), unaware that he's really Robert Treat Bradford, heir to the Bradford millions, and currently slumming as "Brad Roberts" because he wants to make a name for himself as a Broadway songwriter even though his family disapproves. Brad offers to finance a new show starring the chorus girls, write and perform the music himself, and marry Polly to boot. However, once his family gets wind of these plans they dispatch his straightlaced older brother, J. Lawrence (Warren William) and bumbling family lawyer, Faneuil H. Peabody (Guy Kibbee) to prevent them. It's up to Polly's sisters of the chorus, Carol (Joan Blondell), Fay (Ginger Rogers) and Trixie (Aline MacMahon) to devise a plan to save the day. The story is pretty familiar, but we're treated to a number of songs by Al Dubin and Harry Warren, such as "We're in the Money," "Pettin' in the Park," "Shadow Waltz," and "Remember My Forgotten Man," presented in remarkable production numbers by dance director Busby Berkeley. For my money, its the production numbers and not the story that make Gold Diggers of 1933, in the words of filmmaker John Landis, "sheer entertainment." I enjoyed it so much that I thought I'd research some of the movie's history. Wow, does it have a lot of history. Here's what I've dug up so far along with descriptions of some of my favorite moments from the film.

Ina Claire on the cover of Time in 1929.

In order to see how the film came to be we have to leave the movie theater and take a stroll down Broadway's past because like other often reprised screenplay ideas Gold Diggers of 1933 has its origins in the stage. The movie falls in the middle of six films with similar titles and themes released by Warner Bros between 1923 and 1938, but all of this gold digging began September 10, 1919 when Avery Hopwood's new stage comedy The Gold Diggers, all about the "real and supposed life of a chorus girl," opened the Fall season at the Lyceum Theatre in New York. Produced by playwright and independent producer David Belasco, and starring Broadway and screen actress Ina Claire, the play concerns an aristocrat who schemes to prevent his nephew from marrying a chorus girl because he believes she's only after the nephew's five million dollar inheritance. Reviews of the show were mixed, but it proved to be popular and enjoyed a very long run; it didn't close on Broadway until June 1921 and gave over five hundred performances when it toured the U.S. through 1923.

A year and a half after the play's debut, the newly incorporated Warner Bros Pictures, Inc. purchased the screen rights to a number of Belasco's productions including The Gold Diggers (screenwriter Francis Marion claimed that the company paid $100,000 for it) as part of a "quest for more ambitious productions."¹ In September 1923, Warner Bros silent screen version The Gold Diggers (1923) appeared, produced by Belasco and directed by Harry Beaumont. Hope Hamilton replaced Claire in the lead role. The film earned $500,000, but was not a substantial hit.²

Fast-forward six years: Warner Bros combined the novelty of sound film, popularized, in part, by the company's own hits The Jazz Singer (1927) and Lights of New York (1928), with the latest Technicolor innovations to present a new musical comedy in color based on Hopwood's play. Titled Gold Diggers of Broadway (1929), it incorporated big stage-like production numbers and songs written by Al Dubin and Joseph Burke including "Tip Toe Thru The Tulips." This film made record earnings (nearly $4 million), and so did other Warner Bros musicals, such as The Singing Fool(1928), The Desert Song (1929), On with the Show (1929), Say It with Songs (1929). Other studios were having success with musical productions too, like MGM's The Broadway Melody (1929). Musicals were the most popular type of sound film—at least temporarily.

In the video Gold Diggers: FDR's New Deal...Broadway Bound (2006) a number of film historians tell a story about our film's role in the supposed fall and rebirth of musicals in the early 1930s that reads like a good screenplay. It goes like this: after a few years of big production numbers, vivid color and a galaxy of stars audiences grew tired of musicals and the genre disappeared from movie screens. Things looked hopeless for the genre until 1933 when plucky Warner Bros took a huge gamble on Gold Diggers of 1933 and 42nd Street. Suddenly, audiences couldn't remember why they ever had fallen out of love with musicals in the first place, and the genre was back. It makes a great story though looking at Warner Bros output we can see that the studio did not stop releasing musicals in the early 30s—Mammy (1930), Sunny (1930), Viennese Nights (1930), Kiss Me Again (1931) and other musicals attest to that. But, these films didn't earn well. Maybe the studio pump ran dry of fresh ideas for musicals. Maybe after running the gamut of Hollywood stars between Mary Astor and Loretta Young (alphabetically speaking) the novelty of seeing our favorite stars sing and dance wore off. Or maybe, as the film historians suggest, the fickle cinema-going public simply craved something else. Of course, the public and the studio also had other pressing matters on their minds—the Great Depression threw nearly a quarter of the workforce out of a job and motion picture attendance dropped by some 30 million per week by 1933.

In early 1933, Warner Bros issued a press release promising that the studio would release only two musicals in the coming months; it seems almost as if they anticipated a critical more than a public backlash. 42nd Street would be released first, but the company actually started work on High Life, the working title of Gold Diggers of 1933 earlier. The two films share the same casts so perhaps Warners had them in production back to back.

Warner Bros' strategy for Gold Diggers of 1933 wasn't particularly inventive nor was it a major financial risk: they simply remade one of their most successful musicals but at a modest cost. Seems like a bright and obvious strategy to me. The savings strategy seems intuitive too: they already owned the property so they didn't have to pay for screen rights, they saved a bundle by foregoing Technicolor in favor of black and white (which better serves the revised screenplay's gritty Depression-era setting, imho), and they used a small ensemble cast instead of a revue of stars. The studio had not one but four writers, David Boehm, Erwin Gelsey, Ben Markson, and James Seymour, streamline the screenplay, and hired Busby Berkeley to give the production numbers a fresh style. Warners gave audiences the same ol' thing but in a different way. I suppose that's a satisfactory definition of any but the most creative remake.

Enough film history; what about the film itself? Looking over the filmography of the film's director, Mervyn LeRoy, we can see that he was one of the more flexible and prolific talents at Warner Bros. He directed almost every kind of picture in the course of his eighty film career: war, western, social problem, historical epic, drama, melodrama, comedy, horror, fantasy, and musicals. Reviewing his finest work in Mervyn LeRoy: Take One he was proud of the fact that he never truly repeated himself. In 1933, the director had recently completed what he termed "films of realism," Little Caesar, Five Star Final, and I Am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang; now he "wanted to do something gayer, splashier, more lavish." A musical seemed to offer LeRoy just the opportunity (LeRoy 119).

Low camera angle helps Trixie look clever, not criminal, stealing milk.

Compared with Ernst Lubitsch, Alfred Hitchcock, or Rouben Mamoulian LeRoy's style appears less fluid, certainly expert but not particularly exciting or even identifiable. He himself matter-of-factually wrote, "my films were all so different that there was never a LeRoy trademark" (LeRoy 180). However, looking at this film I do notice a couple of moments that stand out to the director's credit. As mentioned above, the film is set on Broadway during the height lowest depths of the Great Depression, and although the chorus girls complain about being out of work what they complain about most is being hungry. LeRoy and his four screenwriters take pains to make sure that we grok the economic hard times facing these unemployed performers. With just one indoor shot and one outdoor shot he communicates what these women are willing to do in order to survive, and reveals something about their characters as well. One morning bossy, pragmatic Trixie uses a pair of fireplace tongs to reach out of the window of their apartment and pilfer the neighbor's milk from the fire escape so that she and her friends might have breakfast (in the original screenplay she steals it from outside of their door so credit must go to LeRoy for this much more creative invention - see photo left). However, when the roomies sit down to drink the stolen food the doorbell rings, and Trixie, thinking that the neighbors are on to them, pours the untasted stolen milk back into the bottle and prepares to return it. This concise scene shows us that the women are not amoral just hungry and driven by hard times to behave in ways they might not otherwise—this idea becomes important later when they begin "gold digging" in earnest.

A proto-Rear Window shot from Gold Diggers of 1933.

LeRoy and cinematographer Sol Polito, who worked on 42nd Street and on I Am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang, set up another shot inside the girls' apartment that grabbed my attention. They allow us to peer through the girls' apartment, out of their window, and into the apartment of Brad Roberts across the alleyway. In this way we encounter action in more than one part of the screen at the same time, and enjoy a kind of subjective perspective (see photo right). Not exactly predicting Orson Welles-ish deep focus, but maybe leaning toward the kind of perspective Hitchcock mastered in Rear Window (1954). LeRoy also unexpectedly crosses the stage line and shows us the women's apartment from Brad's point of view. Hitch uses these kinds of angles to heighten suspense, of course, but here the story is pure romance. Not only do we get a sense of the crowded living conditions (supported by Blondell's later assertion that she can remember better times when she lived on Park Avenue), but there's also the suggestion that Polly fell for her neighbor after watching him sing and play the piano through her open window (some gold digger she is—course he does turn out to be a millionaire).

Let's move on to the musical numbers. Ironically, LeRoy's "gayer, splashier" vision for the film was best realized not in the work of the director himself, but in the production numbers of dance director Busby Berkeley. According to Alan Ulrich in Dance Magazine, Berkeley's style "liberated popular theater dance for the camera" and embraced "a grandiosity of vision, an eye for dazzling patterns of hordes of tapping and waltzing dancers." For me, two things seem to define Berkeley's dance direction in Gold Diggers of 1933: overhead shots, in which he organizes chorus lines draped in outlandish costumes together to create swirling geometric shapes seen from above, and tracking close-up shots, in which dancers are granted a fleeting moment of individual attention in a characteristic "parade of faces." Against oversized everday objects (like gigantic coins) and huge platforms the dancers twirl and sway, but I notice that they do precious little dancing. Berkeley's tendency to mass performers together also helps the film overcome the fact that, outside of Ginger Rogers, it doesn't offer the appeal of any major stars. The visual pleasure of Berkeley's production numbers is enough to keep us watching this film, even after the intervening years.

Another recurring device that I noticed, and particularly liked, in Berkeley's style is his penchant for creating a kind of illusion and then showing us how he did it. For example, in the film's ironic opening number, "We're in the Money" Ginger Rogers, waving dimes at us from multiple limbs, seems to transform into some Treasury Department employee's vision of Lakshmi, the many armed Hindu goddess of wealth and beauty (see photo below left). By moving the camera angle, Berkeley reveals that this is an illusion made by a line of chorus girls standing behind Rogers (now look at photo below right). Creating illusions and then revealing how the illusion works by changing perspective is reminiscent of a magician showing how his tricks are performed. It's titillating because not only do we get to see how a particular trick is crafted, but once Berkeley has unveiled his latest secret we assume he isn't likely to repeat himself and therefore even grander visions await.

So how did the film fare with audiences in 1933? Gold Diggers of 1933 earned "three times more than the most successful Warner Bros films of the previous two seasons."³ Taking into account reduced motion picture attendance and possibly reduced ticket prices I'd say that's a pretty strong indicator of popularity among cinema-goers. Mordaunt Hall of the New York Times dissed the retread story but praised the way it was presented, "with its highly competent cast, clever staging and imaginative direction, the Warner Brothers latest film...is a good entertainment."⁴ For its part, Warner Bros was encouraged enough by the box office performance to make more musicals with Busby Berkeley—Footlight Parade (1933), Dames (1934), Wonder Bar (1934) and (wait for it...) Gold Diggers of 1935 (1935)! These films didn't do as well as our Gold Diggers of 1933 but they "brought good returns on substantial costs."⁵ The 1935 film isn't the end of the gold digging story either. The series of films was spoofed, at least in the title, by a Warner Bros cartoon, Gold Diggers of '49 (1935). That animated film, and another featuring cartoon versions of James Cagney, Greta Garbo and others singing "Pettin' in the Park," are part of the Cartoon Alley series. Finally, there's Gold Diggers of 1937 (1936), directed by Berkeley, and Gold Diggers in Paris (1938). The sheer number of titles with the gold diggers epithet, and a court injunction Warners successfully sought against the Majestic Pictures production Gold Diggers of Paris in 1934 make it clear that the studio knew the value of this tradename and would make the most of it. In my view they made the most of it back in 1933. Sheer entertainment for sure, and we could all use an extra dash of that.

Notes
1. According to Marion the average cost to secure the rights to adapt a stage play in 1924 was approximately $20,000, but Warners paid $100,000 each for Belaco's successful stage plays Tiger Rose, Daddies and The Gold Diggers. I've been unable to find either corroboration or alternate figures for these purchases. Glancy's otherwise helpful "Warner Bros Grosses" (see next note) only states that the screen adaptations of Belasco's plays "were given top costs." See "High Price of Stories," New York Times, 30 March 1924, x5.

2. Unless otherwise noted, all motion picture earnings figures from H. Mark Glancy, "Warner Bros Film Grosses 1921-51: the William Schaefer ledger," Historical Journal of Film, Radio, and Television 15.1 (March 1995): 55-73.

3. Ibid, 60.

4. "Warren William, Aline MacMahon and Guy Kibbee in a Musical Conception of 'The Gold Diggers,'" New York Times, 8 June 1933, 22.

5. Glancy, 61.

Works Cited
Hove, Arthur. Gold Diggers of 1933. Madison: University of Wisconson Press, 1980.

LeRoy, Mervyn and Dick Kleiner. Mervyn LeRoy: Take One. New York: Hawthorne Books, 1974.

Ulrich, Allan. "Busby, Baker and the Ballerina." Dance Magazine (August 2005): 54.

This essay written by Thom Ryan
© 2007 Thom Ryan Some rights reserved

Comments

[Brian]

How many movie years have been as productive for a filmmaker as 1933 was for Busby Berkeley? I love 42nd Street, Roman Scandals and especially Footlight Parade, but like you this is the one I saw first, so I'm particularly fond of it for that reason, even though it's the only one I haven't seen in a cinema yet.

I really appreciate your writing on Mervyn LeRoy. I think his greatest strength as a filmmaker, at least during this period of his career, is his ability to be "concise" as you point out. LeRoy's succint storytelling provides a fascinating contrast to Berkeley's luxurious, sprawling dance sequences. A while back I wrote a piece on Five Star Final that noted a particularly economical scene.

[Thom]

Thanks Brian. I agree, the contrasting styles benefit the movie. Nearly everything I read about this film was heavy with info or opinions on Berkeley (after seeing his numbers I can understand why). I figured, why not take a shot at discussing some of the tasty stuff that the other director of Gold Diggers of 1933 put on film? Glad to see that the effort comes across. I'm looking forward to reading your prose about Five Star Final.

Update: I put a link to Brian's piece in the text of this post.

[movie_star]

What a great post! This is by far the best entry I've read to date on Film of the Year - and that is really saying something. Keep up the great work! I (like many others I suspect) am an avid reader but rarely post a comment. I think that you have legions of silent fans out here!

[Thom]

That's really kind of you to say, movie_star. Thank you. One of my goals is to improve the writing each time I post. Thanks too for still reading (I remember your last comment was waaay back in the teens or even before) the blog. Now, please excuse me while I go somewhere private and blush :)

[Ju-osh]

I watched the whole BB box set earlier this year, and 'Gold Diggers of 1933' was far and away my favorite of the bunch. When I saw the link to this piece on Greencine.com, I knew I had to check it out. I'm glad I did. It was a great article.

[Thom]

Hey Ju-osh, thanks for checking in and for the nice thoughts on the article. GreenCine? I must be doing something right.

[Pacze Moj]

Excellent post!

When I started reading your piece, I was sure I wouldn't finish -- given my lack of enthusiasm for (and knowledge about) Hollywood musicals; but, I proved myself wrong: read the whole thing, enjoyed immensely, learned, and checked my film collection for some Mervyn LeRoy.

Well-written, well-researched posts like this one are gems of Internet film criticism: Passionate and knowledgeable.

Thanks for the time and effort.

:)

[Thom]

Pacze Moj - Thank you for the thoughtful feedback and inspiration. It's gratifying to know one has written something that works for another writer.

Among the films LeRoy directed that he considered his "most important" are: Little Caesar, I Am A Fugitive From a Chain Gang, Five Star Final, Gold Diggers of 1933, Quo Vadis, Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo, Oil Lamps for China, They Won't Forget, and Random Harvest. I've only seen the first six, but plan to see them all. If you screen a LeRoy film please share your opinion with us.