Rent 42nd Street (1933)

Ultimate Chorus Line Musical. - 42nd Street review by Steve

The best ever backstage musical offers a vicarious glimpse into life on Broadway in the '30s while also reflecting on contemporary social handicaps. It's one of the the great films about the depression because it approaches it obliquely and through the genre conventions of the musical, avoiding the sanctimony that is sometimes the Hollywood way with the big issues.  

There's a realistic chorus line story with characters which would become archetypes: the lecherous financier (Guy Kibbee); the hardboiled, stage director (Warner Baxter) under pressure and giving the company hell; the sassy, wisecracking, starving dancers led by Ginger Rogers and Una Merkel. Bebe Daniels is the hot tempered diva; Dick Powell the pretty, romantic juvenile.

And of course, as the ingenue who gets her chance when the star goes down lame, Ruby Keeler. In the immortal words of Warner Baxter: 'Sawyer, you're going out a youngster but you've got to come back a star!'. The punchy, sassy dialogue is a blast. OK, Keeler dances like a horse, she's overweight and her acting is little more than enthusiastic, but this doesn't really impair the exprerience.

It's Warner Bothers so there are unpretentious proletariat scenarios. But the last three numbers, are staged by legendary dance director Busby Berkley with prodigious panache.  Shuffle Off to Buffalo, Young and Healthy, and the showstopping 42nd Street. The title song is immortal, and Berkley's living tableau of the Great White Way channels a metropolitan mythology which remains rich and joyous.

Fast and entertaining - 42nd Street review by CP Customer

Captures the spirit of the times. The speech is fast and the action entertaining, but hugely enjoyable.

From Wooden Lines to Dazzling Designs - 42nd Street review by griggs

Some films take a while to find their rhythm, and 42nd Street is one of them. The first act shuffles dutifully through stock types — the weary producer, the ingénue, the fading star — with dialogue that feels more wooden than witty. But once the curtain finally rises, the transformation is astonishing. The humour sharpens, the pace quickens, and suddenly a creaky backstage melodrama blossoms into something electric.

Part of the magic lies in its timing. Made in the pre-Code era, the film has a looseness that later Hollywood musicals would smooth away: sly innuendo, sharper banter, and a touch of cynicism about showbiz that cuts through the sparkle. Lloyd Bacon’s direction keeps the narrative lean, while Busby Berkeley’s choreography steals the spotlight — overhead shots, geometric patterns, chorus girls forming living sculptures. What might have been fluff turns into audacious visual spectacle.

It’s not flawless. The melodrama still creaks, and the character arcs are paper-thin. Yet by the finale, you realise you’re watching not just another backstage yarn but the blueprint for the modern musical. At once funny, brash, and dazzling, 42nd Street is a reminder that even Depression-era escapism could be bold, experimental, and unforgettable.