42nd Street

42nd Street is deceptive in its simplicity. You can look at it on a surface level and think that it is shallow and fleeting, but the truth is a bit more complex. While it is true that the plot is not particularly complicated, what this film is saying about show business, dedication, and the rigors of being successful on the stage on 1930s Broadway is a bit eye-opening. It’s not massively enlightening—at least not to modern eyes—but for an audience in the heart of the Great Depression, this might surprise someone who was living away from the hustle and bustle of Broadway. Today, we have seen films like this so many times that it no longer has the effect it once did, but it still has some impact and allows us a peek back in time to a bygone era and see that not a lot has changed in the ninety years since this release. This could be modernized with little change.

This film was adapted from a novel that was released the previous year, written by Bradford Ropes. Bradford has an extensive writing career that included another book made into a film, Stage Mother, also released in 1933. His works focused a lot on his experiences in show business, often narrowing in on the lives of gay men in the business. While this was allowed in print form, a Hollywood film could not depict this in the 1930s, and those characters were either re-written or eliminated altogether. He would also write Western stories and screenplays for Roy Rogers and Rex Allen. Later, he would contribute to the scripts for some of the films starring Abbott and Costello and Laurel and Hardy. His was a versatile talent, and Hollywood nurtured it well. 

At the time 42nd Street went into production, Warner Bros. was in serious financial straits. They were in serious debt and had lost a lot of money recently on musicals. Initially, they wanted to avoid bankrolling any more such pictures lest they face foreclosure and bankruptcy. But this novel, 42nd Street—which was already a successful stage musical at this time—enticed them to gamble on it. The production cost them $439,000 ($10.9 million in today’s money), a staggering amount of money in Depression-era Hollywood. Had this been another flop for them, that could have been the end of Warners. Instead, 42nd Streetbecame the highest-grossing film of the year and saved the studio. 

The story somewhat mimics what was going on with Warner Bros. at the time. Julian Marsh (Warner Baxter) is hired to direct a stage musical for noted Broadway producers Jones (Robert McWade) and Barry (Ned Sparks). This musical will star Broadway star Dorothy Brock (Bebe Daniels), who is involved with the wealthy Abner Dillon (Guy Kibbee), who is backing the play. She is also secretly seeing her old vaudeville partner, Pat Denning (George Brent), who is currently out of work and refuses to accept charity from her. 

Marsh needs this musical to be a hit as he has lost all his money in the stock market crash and this play could earn him enough money to finally retire, something his doctor insists he does before he suffers a collapse from the stress. Tryouts begin for the chorus girls, and the competition is fierce. Initially, newcomer Peggy Sawyer (Ruby Keeler) is passed over, but an error, coupled with some assistance from two experienced dancers, Lorraine (Una Merkel) and Ann (Ginger Rogers), allows her to get hired on. From here, we will see the grueling rehearsal process, the unsavory drama as Abner tries to use his position of financier to gain favors with one of the girls, and the clash that occurs when Marsh discovers Dorothy is seeing Pat Denning. Just hours before the play is supposed to open, Dorothy breaks her ankle and cannot perform, leaving the show without a trained replacement. The show must go on, but Marsh hasn’t prepared for this possibility and needs someone he can train in short order. The direction this is going to take will surprise no one.

This is a pre-code film through and through, and there are many overt references to things that wouldn’t fly just a few years later. Ginger Roger’s character, Ann Lowell, is referred to as “Anytime Annie,” suggesting she may have been involved in prostitution. There are moments in one of the musical numbers that hint at a lesbian relationship going on behind the drawn curtains of a railroad car berth. The film couldn’t outright portray homosexuality, but it hints at it if you are paying attention. The best moment of sexual behavior being portrayed in plain sight, though, is a moment when Dorothy and Pat are in her room. He’s been brought up there innocently enough after being assaulted on the streets below. The landlord, however, accuses her of loose morals and is kicking her out, claiming she sees everything that goes on in the apartment complex. Meanwhile, the room across the hall, just behind the landlord, reveals otherwise. As she is kicking Dorothy out, a man can be seen sneaking out of the opposite apartment while the woman he was with stays behind in the doorway. It’s witty, sharp, and catches you off guard. It’s also a joke that Will H. Hays and Joseph Breen wouldn’t have allowed. 

Lloyd Bacon was a contract director for Warner Bros. at the time this was being made. This film was not initially assigned to him but to Mervyn LeRoy. But plans had to be altered when shooting on LeRoy’s previous film, I Am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang, went over the planned production schedule. Lloyd Bacon stepped in and took over at that point to keep the film on schedule. While it is true that he was a director for hire, he still had a distinctive style of filmmaking that lent well to this production. You can especially see his influences in the musical numbers that take more than a little from German expressionism. This is juxtaposed with a more straightforward style of camera work during the many dialogue-heavy scenes. 

Traditionally, musical numbers had to be more statically shot due to the limitations of camera technology in the early 30s. Lloyd Bacon and his cinematographer, Sol Polito, chose not to limit themselves to just that, and there are several trick shots that stand out whenever there is action on stage. The most notable of these is the use of birds-eye view during some of the choreography to create a hypnotizing illusion in the movement. The women dancers are moving their legs in sequence in such a way that, seen from this angle, it is almost dizzying. There is also a shot that has since become cliché where the camera moves through the legs of the dancers, posed in A-position. We see this used again and again over the years, more recently in a psychedelic dream sequence in The Big Lebowski. 

Whenever a film like this is made, there is always the danger of having the rehearsal sequences get repetitive. This can be utilized intentionally to give the audience a true sense of what the performers go through, but that doesn’t make it less tedious to watch. To avoid this trapping, we don’t get scenes of them practicing whole scenes, just bits and pieces out of context. This allows us to connect the dots in the final act when we see it all come together. It also allows us to see the song and dance numbers fresh by the time everyone has their parts down for opening night. 

Not everything in this film has aged well, though. Guy Kibbee’s character is repugnant a good deal of the time, attending rehearsals so he can ogle at the women’s legs and make unwanted advances that he feels he is owed by financing the play. Sure, characters like this exist in the real world, but seeing it portrayed on screen is not cute or funny, the way the film intends it to be. This is the equivalent of having a Harvey Weinstein-type character in a modern film and playing it for laughs. The best scene for him is after weeks of rehearsal; he is finally getting bored with the repetition and is no longer finding watching the girls dancing all that enticing anymore. 

As a leading lady, Ruby Keeler is okay. This is her first major role, and she does a decent job of it. But she is being overshadowed by Bebe Daniels, Una Merkel, and Ginger Rogers, all of whom have more experience and breathe some real life and spunk into their characters. Ruby uses her callowness as a way to sell the nervousness and inexperience her character has on the stage, and that works fine, but it only really becomes a solid trait once she is forced to step in for Bebe when her character breaks her ankle. Peggy Sawyer is offered the lead with mere hours to learn the moves and the lyrics, and she rightfully panics. Marsh puts her through her paces, almost sadistically, to get her ready in time, and I couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t have an understudy already trained in case anything happened to his star. This is poor planning and goes unexplained in the film. 

While this film seems very straightforward and unoriginal watching it now, it was innovative and groundbreaking back in 1933. Audiences loved it, and it made so much money that it saved Warner Bros. from losing it all. It has since been recognized by the Library of Congress for its merits as a film and a look at showbiz history. This means, among other things, that the version we can see today has been kept in great shape and restored to pristine condition, far surpassing a lot of films that are knocking on 100 years old. 

Quite simply, this is a fun film to watch. Sure, there are a lot of dated things about it, but only a small amount of it is cringy to watch. We get a sense of the male-driven society these people are living in and how this mentality is affecting Pat Denning now that he cannot provide for himself or anyone else. We also get a look at one way women were earning a living during a time when many couldn’t. It’s a transitional time in the world’s history when views and circumstances were forcing the world to evolve. It is also portraying show business, a job that requires brutal discipline and a strong desire to succeed just to make it in that world. It’s no place for the weak. That is something that transcends time, and those who are currently pursuing it as a discipline will see in this film many of the exact same things they currently are facing.

Academy Award Nominations:

Outstanding Production: Darryl F. Zanuck

Best Sound Recording: Nathan Levinson

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Release Date: March 11, 1933

Running Time: 89 Minutes

Not Rated

Starring: Warner Baxter, Bebe Daniels, George Brent, Una Merkel, Ruby Keeler, Guy Kibbee, Ginger Rogers, Dick Powell, Ned Sparks, George E. Stone, and Allen Jenkins

Directed By: Lloyd Bacon