PIN UP GIRL: Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox, 1944) Twilight Time

H. Bruce Humberstone’s Pin Up Girl (1944) is just one of those movies that, in retrospect, you ask yourself ‘why?’ and then, almost immediately remind yourself, ‘Oh right…there was a war on.’ Quite simply, it doesn’t hold up under close – even distant – scrutiny, not even as an uber-lavish piece of escapism; its primary selling feature, the sight of the luscious and lovely Betty Grable, America’s No. 1 sweetheart, showing off her best assets…and, to misquote Ms. Grable – “she’s standing on them!” Grable’s glorious gams were the topic of much debate in the Breen Office, her widely circulated ‘pin-up’ (in a one-piece bathing suit and high heels) ever so slightly altered to give her perky and well-rounded buttocks a less exaggerated curve, bordering on ‘dumpy butt’ syndrome, merely to placate Hollywood’s self-governing censorship. I think my biggest curiosity, and moderate disappointment with Pin Up Girl is that Grable, despite obviously being ‘the star’ in this war-time pastiche, is nevertheless something of a transient figure in Robert Ellis, Helen Logan and Earl Baldwin’s hodge-podge of a screenplay, more deftly interested in finding the flimsiest of narrative connecting tissues between some lavishly appointed production numbers. Point blank: you aren’t watching this one for plot…or, if so, are in for a colossal letdown.

The other big-ticket seller here is Technicolor…or rather, ought to have been. More on this later. If Pin Up Girl does not test the boundaries of story or dramatic arc, then it nevertheless passes the time effortlessly on the ether of love, song and sex appeal – the latter, tempered as Grable wears some rather bewitching, if limb-concealing gowns by René Hubert, from underneath occasionally emerging a supple leg in high heel shoes. I suppose now is as good a time as any to point out the monumental contribution Betty Grable made – not only to Fox film musicals from the 1940’s, but to the war effort in totem: the absolute #1 dolly of the follies for all those fighting men overseas who sought to have her likeness – at least from the waist down - adorning the sides of their planes, tanks and aircraft carriers; making Grable, America’s ‘poster child’ for WWII – literally! And there is little to doubt Grable’s legs were the inspiration for Peruvian pin-up artist extraordinaire, Alberto Vargas, whose famously leggy ladies are as much Betty Grable reincarnated as they are immaculate exemplars of a certain type of feminine physical perfection.

H. Bruce Humberstone is one of those sadly forgotten names in Hollywood today; just another workaday director over at Fox who nevertheless managed to make crowd-pleasing entertainments in virtually every genre; though doubtlessly, today, is – if at all remembered – for I Wake Up Screaming (1941); one of the studio’s best-recalled noir crime thrillers, also starring Betty Grable. Humberstone’s style is invisible, or rather, he appears not to have any – making him an invaluable plug-and-play kind of guy in the cog-like design of the classic studio system. Humberstone could churn out Charlie Chan programmers as easily as make big and splashy musicals like Pin Up Girl. The picture is also noteworthy for the brief – almost cameo – appearance of Martha Raye as nightclub chanteuse and proverbial fly in the ointment, Molly McKay, warbling one of the movie’s signature tunes: ‘Red Robins, Bobwhites and Bluebirds’ – over-produced with a garish and mind-boggling display of feathered fan-waving roller skaters, collectively billed as the ‘Skating Vanities.’ Raye’s lack of conventional beauty - she had a harsh jaw and a mouth as big as a garage door - as well as her shoot-from-the-hip delivery of some pretty ribald lines of dialogue, make for a refreshing departure in this otherwise wholly unadventurous tale with Grable’s goody two-shoes becoming romantically inveigled with Molly’s beau…well, sort of: war hero, Tommy Dooley (milquetoast, John Harvey).

Pin Up Girl follows the conventional arc of a good many Fox musicals from this era, its ‘boy meets girl’ scenario complicated by Grable’s Lorry Jones, who daydreams about appearing in a USO show, and, feigns the part of a Broadway diva in the aptly titled ‘Remember Me’ – a show that conveniently closed the night before, so she and her dowdy cohort, Kay Pritchett (Dorothea Kent) can gain access inside New York’s fashionable nightclub on their girl’s night out. Predictably, Lorry’s lie catches up to her when the club’s manager, Eddie Hall (Joe E. Brown) thinks she is Tommy Dooley’s date for the evening, and has her and Kay seated at his table, only to find Tommy and his wing man, Dud Miller (Dave Willcock) newly arrived to a standing ovation. Whoops! Lorry keeps her past, as one of the amiable hostesses of a USO canteen in Missoula, Missouri, a secret from Tommy, who could not be happier at having found an ‘authentic’ girl who is not interested in tricking him into a relationship. Oh, really?!? Inadvertently, Tommy falls hard for Lorry and promises to write her. Jealous of her competition, singer, Molly McKay goads Lorry into performing a number from ‘Remember Me’ – the Broadway show from which she has presumably just retired. Reluctantly, Lorry complies, accompanied by Charlie Spivak and His Orchestra. Quite literally, however, she stops the show. After their Cinderella-like night on the town, Lorry and Kay revert to their full-time jobs as stenographers working in Washington’s wartime bureau.   

Only now, another problem arises: George Davis (Roger Clark) – the amiable fellow Lorry became ‘engaged to’ while working at the canteen. Actually, to hear Lorry tell it, she is engaged to half the United States Army. Despite George being handsome and congenial, Lorry finds every opportunity to avoid him like the plague. She is less successful at eluding Tommy who, along with Dud, has arrived at the bureau to report to Commander Barney Briggs (Eugene Palette). Briggs, who feigns an aversion to women – but actually has one waiting for him at home in a bubble bath – has assigned a stenographer to take down all of the particulars of Tommy’s experiences at the Battle of Guadalcanal. Thinly disguising herself as a frumpy and cross-eyed working girl, Lorry nevertheless learns Tommy’s mind is not on his work. Indeed, he is completely smitten with ‘the girl’ he met in New York and eventually confides his heart will not rest until he has found her again. To help this reunion along, Lorry pretends to take a call from herself regarding Tommy and then passes along ‘the information’ to him. That evening Tommy and Lorry rendezvous on the mall for a picnic dinner. Under moonlit skies, Lorry confides her desire to be a singer and Tommy uses his clout and friendship with Eddie to land her a plum ‘star attraction’ contract at Eddie’s new nightclub.

More jealous than ever of Lorry’s ambition and success, Molly discovers George and decides to break up Lorry and Tommy by surprising Lorry with George’s arrival at the club. Tommy’s heart is temporarily wounded. But in short order, Lorry sets the record straight; both, with George, whom she does not love and lets down easy, and Tommy, whom she adores and cannot wait to spend the rest of her life. These romantic entanglements conveniently resolved, Tommy and Dud attend the club and bear witness to Lorry’s grand performance. The last act to Pin Up Girl is pretty nonsensical; Grable, appearing in a sultry black gown with a slit down the middle, to intermittently tease us with flashes of her luscious legs, surrounded by a chorus of tuxedo and gown-attired extras dancing a waltz as she warbles, ‘The Story of the Very Merry Widow’ – a truly awkward little ditty. Presumably, to close the picture on a patriotic note, this dissolves into Grable, now attired as a WAC, barking out commands to a veritable platoon of marching gals in uniform, toting rifles and performing an interminable six-and-a-half minutes of regimented military exercises.  

Pin Up Girl was a huge hit for Fox in 1944. Today, it barely registers as a blip. There are far better musicals in general, and a goodly number of more delightful ones starring Betty Grable – a reality that even critics of their day were quick to point out.  Interesting, photographer, Frank Powolny’s ‘infamous’ poster art of Grable in her one-piece bathing suit, giving us an ‘over-the-shoulder’ come hither glance, features rather prominently as artwork under Pin Up Girl’s main titles, and, as a plaque set outside Eddie’s club to promote his ‘new’ star attraction.  The unaltered version of this strangely sweet, yet uber-sexy innocence sold millions of copies during the war and even managed to eclipse sales of Rita Hayworth’s 1941 pin-up. Grable’s appeal in Pin Up Girl runs right down the middle of her own comfort zone. Despite Darryl F. Zanuck’s best intentions to broaden her range, Grable remained circumspect about ‘said range’ and preferred to play it safe. She also chose to star opposite nondescript ‘leading men’ who could not upstage her. For her due diligence, Grable would remain ‘queen’ of these Fox glossy Technicolor escapist musicals throughout the rest of the forties. Despite their general lack of originality, and practically nonexistent story lines, Grable’s movies proved immensely popular with the public and Zanuck, not about to overlook a good thing, kept her cranking out the froth and fun while re-channeling the profits derived from her movies back into Fox’s line-up of ‘prestige’ pictures.’

Taken within the context of Grable’s movie career, Pin Up Girl comes dead center in her overall arc of success at the studio. Taking time off immediately thereafter to give birth to her daughter, Grable’s sunny return to form in Billy Rose's Diamond Horseshoe (1945), was yet another crowd-pleaser – so gargantuan, that even when earning $3 million at the box office (a sizable intake), it struggled to turn a profit. She followed this up with The Dolly Sisters that same year, co-starring opposite newcomer, June Haver, whom it was rumored had been hired to ‘replace’ Grable as the studio’s blonde du jour. Dear Darryl Zanuck: he clearly had a thing for blondes. From Shirley Temple to Marilyn Monroe, Fox’s leading ladies were usually platinum-haired charmers of which Betty Grable proved one of the most resilient and longest-lasting. After yet another absence from the screen, this time to rest and recuperate, Grable marked the end of the decade in considerable style with a spate of hits: 1947’s Mother Wore Tights, 1948’s That Lady in Ermine, and, When My Baby Smiles at Me. But by now, either the movies were tiring of Grable, or was it the other way around?  The Beautiful Blonde from Bashful Bend (1949) seemed to suggest her time had passed.  But then came Wabash Avenue (1950) a very loose remake of Grable’s own Coney Island (1943) – another bell-ringer for the studio, followed by two more. Had Grable had the good sense to continue on, she might have experienced her greatest success yet. Alas, greed intervened. Attempting to renegotiate her contract for more money, Grable was instead replaced by Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) – a resounding success. Although the sun had already begun to set on Grable’s tenure at Fox, it was decidedly the dawn of a new blonde that virtually every red-blooded American male seemed to prefer. Grable's advice to Monroe? "I've had mine, honey, Go out and get yours!" 

Pin Up Girl arrives on Blu-ray via Twilight Time in a transfer that can only be described as a colossal travesty. It isn’t TT’s fault, however, as we must first acknowledge the idiocy of a regime at Fox – long defunct – though not before its executive logic (or lack thereof) had taken the studio’s vibrant history and dumped virtually all of its treasures into the ocean – literally – and, for what? To make space in their vaults. After the Zanucks had departed Fox in the mid-70’s, the new management sought to economize and streamline. With no perceived re-sale value in these original nitrate and Technicolor elements, the decision was made to create a single master dupe negative printed on then current Eastman/Kodak color stock. No one thought to first inspect the original Technicolor elements for differential shrinkage, fading, or other age-related anomalies, or to cull from the best possible surviving sources to ensure at least moderate integrity to the original source materials. Instead, elements were simply ‘recorded’ onto the new film stock with all their baked in imperfections: zero inspection afforded at the start and virtually no follow-up to confirm the integrity of the new print master, standing in as the only surviving copy. Once this process was completed, all original elements were junked. Unfortunately, after the purge, a most un-welcome surprise surfaced. The new dupes were not only misaligned and fuzzy, but severely compromised in their reproduction of color fidelity. Worse, the new stock proved to have an even shorter shelf life than the original elements – already in a state of decay. So, that unique use of Technicolor in Fox’s heyday, to have typified their movies with a particularly bawdy and bold vibrancy, was gone and for all time; replaced by wan copies that in no way came anywhere close to achieving the same level of razor-sharp detail or color accuracy.

There is no getting around it: Pin Up Girl looks atrocious – blurry, under exposed in spots, and over-exposed in others. Fine detail…what’s that? Contrast? Ugly. Color? Well, it’s not vintage Technicolor for sure. If anything, the color here veers between pasty and/or muddy hues, and intermittent explosions, so ‘off the charts’ saturated it looks as though someone has taken Crayolas to the whole nasty affair. Flesh tones are either ruddy brown or washed out pink. In its current state, Pin Up Girl belies one of the big reasons to seeing it – Technicolor, in all its blazing glory. Fox might have had a bit more success performing a new 4K scan of the surviving elements and applying some digital wizardry to balance the color, and correct some of the contrast and under-exposed blacks, that either register as washed-out gray, or become so dark they virtually disappear into an undistinguished murky mess. But such ‘restorations’ take time and money. And, in the end, while the overall image quality might have marginally improved, in no conceivable way, would it represent vintage Technicolor as it once was in 1944. This, quite frankly, breaks my heart. The 2.0 mono DTS audio is competently rendered and gives a good representation of the original sound mix. Extras are limited to an audio commentary from Richard Schickel, recorded for Fox’s DVD release from 2001, and, an even more badly worn ‘deleted number’ – This is It. Bottom line: Pin Up Girl, while likely to appeal to Grable completionists, should be regarded as more of a footnote to her career. The Blu-ray doesn’t even rate that dubious distinction. Pass, and be very glad that you did!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

2

VIDEO/AUDIO

1

EXTRAS

1