What we have here has been produced on an obviously moderate budget (which even relies on some stock footage), yet worse it comes across as very much a filmed stage play, as evidenced by all the talk in confined sets. True, there are occasional break-outs into the unexpectedly spectacular like the final surprise tap-dance production number. This is the best choreographed of the numbers, though Joel Grey's delightful solo runs it a close second for sheer energy, vitality and cleverness.
Joel Grey is a one-man dance team and it is gratifying to see him acquit himself so well in a major part so early in his career. The rest of the players are not quite in his league, though Mr Wesson makes his usual game try. The girls (Kirk, Gibson and Stanley), though over-made up in typical mid-fifties style, are stylishly dressed and differentiate their characters amusingly. Alas, poor old Eddie Bracken has more than his share of the hokey plot to carry. His heart isn't in it. Even his pratfalls seem contrived and anticipated. But Cliff Ferre is especially good despite some obvious wigs. Keating and Baer also contribute their share to the fun. If only there wasn't so much talk. There's even a half-hour near the end where there's so much plot, even the songs don't get a look in. They are a pleasant if unmemorable lot, some of them quite lavishly (if not particularly inventively) staged.
Del Ruth's direction is competent enough and other credits are "A". There's quite a lot of added material that's not in the original stage play and film, including the running gag with the hair dye.
Joel Grey is a one-man dance team and it is gratifying to see him acquit himself so well in a major part so early in his career. The rest of the players are not quite in his league, though Mr Wesson makes his usual game try. The girls (Kirk, Gibson and Stanley), though over-made up in typical mid-fifties style, are stylishly dressed and differentiate their characters amusingly. Alas, poor old Eddie Bracken has more than his share of the hokey plot to carry. His heart isn't in it. Even his pratfalls seem contrived and anticipated. But Cliff Ferre is especially good despite some obvious wigs. Keating and Baer also contribute their share to the fun. If only there wasn't so much talk. There's even a half-hour near the end where there's so much plot, even the songs don't get a look in. They are a pleasant if unmemorable lot, some of them quite lavishly (if not particularly inventively) staged.
Del Ruth's direction is competent enough and other credits are "A". There's quite a lot of added material that's not in the original stage play and film, including the running gag with the hair dye.