The first thing you will notice in the credits is the single line train coming into New York City with the skyscrapers of Manhattan in the background making it appear as if there is nothing else in the world besides the Big Apple. It is an odd metaphor, but one that recurs throughout the film, much like the single song written by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammertein II for the film, "There's Music in You". Fans of the recent TV remake of "Cinderella" and the successful Broadway version will recall that song as added for the fairy godmother, and certainly, as sung by Mary Martin here, it does become an anthem of a song as well. It also made me wish that Martin had played the fairy godmother in the original TV version of "Cinderella", sort of passing on the torch to Julie Andrews who would take on the screen role of Maria Von Trapp in "The Sound of Music" which Mary originated successfully on Broadway.
This is not a musical, so don't expect those dancing feet on the avenue I'm taking you to. This is a somber melodrama of a very moody writer (Tommy Morton) who is a client of talent agent Agnes Moorehead's, and determined to write a theatrical masterpiece. By chance, Tallulah Bankhead shows up at Moorehead's apartment to fire Moorehead for lack of effort in trying to find her a new vehicle, and Agnes makes the claim that Morton's new play (which he hasn't even started writing yet) was written with the Alabama foghorn in mind. "They never write plays like this for me anymore!", Tallulah "Dahling!" emphasizes dramatically, and from there, it is Tallulah as herself whom you will be longing to see more of. Of the celebrity guest stars, Tallulah gets more footage than everybody, and Tallulah the actress becomes Tallulah an actual character rather than a cameo. She does not shy away from showing who she really is, combining ego and heart in her desire to remain relevant in a business that is always searching for the next new pretty thing.
The next new pretty thing here really isn't all that much. She's ingenue Mary Murphy who did have some slight success in film, but never became a name, just like Morton, who reminds me of a young Richard Conte. Their romance isn't a traditional movie romance, with her returning to her Indiana hometown, and Morton following her there to get influence for the play he writes for Ms. Bankhead. Dream sequences have Morton dreaming of Bankhead acting out his play in its various forms, so you get to see her being often over the top, as his dreams over dramatize what he has put down on paper. When Bankhead seemingly viciously decides not to do the play, Morton takes drastic steps to get rid of it which results in a radio broadcast of his odd arrest, a situation that involves both Lionel and Ethel Barrymore, as well as Louis Calhern, who bails Morton out of jail and gives him hope of somehow getting his play produced.
The film starts off with a narration by Helen Hayes documenting the closure of the Empire Theater to make room for an office building, and photos of the great theatrical legends are shown as a tribute to this long gone Broadway venue. Shirley Booth appears to sign autographs; Rex Harrison and wife Lilli Palmer argue on the street on the proper way to make a sandwich; Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein observe a kiss between Morton and Murphy, influencing Oscar's latest song ("There's Music in You"), and chorus girls are chosen for their newest show (obviously fictional; Mary Martin did not appear in their 1953 forgotten show, "Me & Juliet"); Gertrude Berg of "Molly Goldberg" fame nags Morton like any good Jewish landlady would to try to influence himself to face his struggles and fight. This is indeed an odd film, with a brief visit to "The King and I" backstage (when Constance Carpenter played Anna), and the coverage of an opening night where several familiar faces (most notably Estelle Winwood) are shown. The conclusion is bittersweet; Not all Broadway stories are success stories, after all, but there is a sign of hope. The Broadway of 1953 might be far from the Broadway of 2018, but many things do not change, and that is the passion of everybody involved, including the audiences, who like me, look forward to each performance with unparalleled joy.
This is not a musical, so don't expect those dancing feet on the avenue I'm taking you to. This is a somber melodrama of a very moody writer (Tommy Morton) who is a client of talent agent Agnes Moorehead's, and determined to write a theatrical masterpiece. By chance, Tallulah Bankhead shows up at Moorehead's apartment to fire Moorehead for lack of effort in trying to find her a new vehicle, and Agnes makes the claim that Morton's new play (which he hasn't even started writing yet) was written with the Alabama foghorn in mind. "They never write plays like this for me anymore!", Tallulah "Dahling!" emphasizes dramatically, and from there, it is Tallulah as herself whom you will be longing to see more of. Of the celebrity guest stars, Tallulah gets more footage than everybody, and Tallulah the actress becomes Tallulah an actual character rather than a cameo. She does not shy away from showing who she really is, combining ego and heart in her desire to remain relevant in a business that is always searching for the next new pretty thing.
The next new pretty thing here really isn't all that much. She's ingenue Mary Murphy who did have some slight success in film, but never became a name, just like Morton, who reminds me of a young Richard Conte. Their romance isn't a traditional movie romance, with her returning to her Indiana hometown, and Morton following her there to get influence for the play he writes for Ms. Bankhead. Dream sequences have Morton dreaming of Bankhead acting out his play in its various forms, so you get to see her being often over the top, as his dreams over dramatize what he has put down on paper. When Bankhead seemingly viciously decides not to do the play, Morton takes drastic steps to get rid of it which results in a radio broadcast of his odd arrest, a situation that involves both Lionel and Ethel Barrymore, as well as Louis Calhern, who bails Morton out of jail and gives him hope of somehow getting his play produced.
The film starts off with a narration by Helen Hayes documenting the closure of the Empire Theater to make room for an office building, and photos of the great theatrical legends are shown as a tribute to this long gone Broadway venue. Shirley Booth appears to sign autographs; Rex Harrison and wife Lilli Palmer argue on the street on the proper way to make a sandwich; Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein observe a kiss between Morton and Murphy, influencing Oscar's latest song ("There's Music in You"), and chorus girls are chosen for their newest show (obviously fictional; Mary Martin did not appear in their 1953 forgotten show, "Me & Juliet"); Gertrude Berg of "Molly Goldberg" fame nags Morton like any good Jewish landlady would to try to influence himself to face his struggles and fight. This is indeed an odd film, with a brief visit to "The King and I" backstage (when Constance Carpenter played Anna), and the coverage of an opening night where several familiar faces (most notably Estelle Winwood) are shown. The conclusion is bittersweet; Not all Broadway stories are success stories, after all, but there is a sign of hope. The Broadway of 1953 might be far from the Broadway of 2018, but many things do not change, and that is the passion of everybody involved, including the audiences, who like me, look forward to each performance with unparalleled joy.