







With 42nd Street a hit, Warner Brothers made Gold Diggers in its image. Busby Berkley arranges the dance numbers and the brilliant songs are again by Dubin and Warren. There are familiar faces on screen with Dick Powell as a blue-blood composer romancing Broadway showgirl Ruby Keeler, to the outrage of his stuffy Boston family.
If the comedy, script and situations aren't quite to the standard of 42nd Street, Berkley's musical numbers are still sensational and the best part of the film. It opens with Ginger Rogers singing We're in the Money as the rented scenery and costumes are reclaimed. Broadway is feeling the impact of the depression.
There's Shadow Dance and the amazing Pettin' In the Park. This time it's Powell who has to go on at the last minute after the juvenile wrecks his back, and he ends the routine trying to get Keeler out of her steel corset with a tin opener. There's some fizzy, salacious dialogue from Joan Blondell and Aline MacMahan. This is still a year before the production code.
Remember My Forgotten Man is the showstopper with a phenomenal vocal from Etta Moten, mimed by Blondell. Berkley cuts from the stage to scenes of men queuing at a soup kitchens. Warner Brothers supported the New Deal and Roosevelt. Berkley's numbers are usually exquisite confections, but here he shows us how to dance the blues.
I was braced for pure froth. Instead, this is a Depression-era pick-me-up with a real pulse — it wants to lift your mood, but it keeps nudging you back to the world outside the theatre.
The cast makes that mix click. Joan Blondell and Aline MacMahon bring the wisecracks and the “we’ll get by” grit, Ruby Keeler has the open-faced sweetness, and Dick Powell is human sunshine. Ginger Rogers only needs one number to grab you: “We’re in the Money” starts as sparkle, then her Pig Latin verse turns from cute to faintly unsettling.
I’m usually a bit meh on Busby Berkeley because the plot can feel like scaffolding between the big routines. Here, the film flips it: the numbers serve the point, and the story doesn’t feel like filler.
Then “Remember My Forgotten Man” lands and it’s sensational — jazz hands with a punch tucked in the glove. I finished it lighter and slightly winded.