GIRL CRAZY: Blu-ray (MGM, 1943) Warner Archive

If MGM could have, it would have put Judy Garland into every movie slated on its year-end roster of pictures to make; Garland, in only a few short years, having risen in L.B. Mayer’s estimation from “my little hunchback” to his #1, A-lister musical super star. As it was, after the titanic one/two knock-out punch of 1939’s The Wizard of Oz and Babes in Arms, Mayer wasted no time exploiting Garland’s box office appeal. From that golden epoch in the picture-making biz to 1943, the year she and Mickey Rooney co-starred for their second to last time together in Girl Crazy, Garland appeared in no less than 9 movies, and 6 musical shorts, to say nothing of her breakneck schedule in cross-country personal appearances to promote the studio’s latest big screen offerings. To suggest all of this took its toll on Garland’s emotional and physical well-being is an understatement. Worse, Garland’s marriage to band leader, David Rose – initially viewed by Judy as an opportunity to escape from under the yoke of her mother’s constant meddling in her private life – had already begun to crumble.  And Girl Crazy, for all its zeal, zest and accomplishment, would be the proverbial straw to break even this sturdy camel’s back.  Chiefly, Garland resented the picture’s director, Busby Berkeley. While Judy could certainly recognize Berkeley’s talent, and had endeavored to give him everything he asked for – and then some – on the sets of both Strike Up the Band (1940) and Babes on Broadway (1941), cracks in the ‘liberty bell’ of their mutual animosity had flared while collaborating on For Me and My Gal (1942). They would all but rupture as Girl Crazy entered rehearsals, Garland bitterly resenting Berkeley’s slavish demands on her.  

The first number to be shot by Berkeley, ‘I Got Rhythm’ (initially planned, not as the picture’s finale) would also wind up being his last. As Berkeley amassed a chorus of several hundred plucky teenage dancers, garbed in rodeo gear and toting whips, pistols and canons, he ran into deep opposition from music supervisor, Roger Edens, who had toiled on a meticulous arrangement for Tommy Dorsey and his orchestra that Berkeley then proceeded to bury beneath his kaleidoscopic display of choreographed dancers and a very noisy soundtrack, firing off cap guns and canons to mask the melody. Adding a whopping $97,418.99 to the picture’s budget, Berkeley’s creativity knew no bounds. As for Judy, Berkeley put her through the most rigorous paces yet, barking orders from his megaphone that even gossip columnist, Hedda Hopper, visiting the set on this particular afternoon, found shamefully debilitating. Garland, who had suffered from repeated illness just prior to this, and, due to her impossible schedule, had also managed to unintentionally drop almost twenty pounds, transforming her vital figure into a wraith, was also under the influence of studio-sanctioned prescription drugs to keep her going at this staggering clip. On their first day’s shooting of the ‘I Got Rhythm’ number, co-star, Mickey Rooney took one look at the gaunt Garland, attired in her white leather rodeo outfit and sarcastically declared her “an ice cream cone.” Berkeley approached the day’s shoot as though he were commanding a platoon to invade Burma with Garland as the ‘buck private’ to his ornery drill sergeant. By mid-day, what energies Judy had amassed were completely spent and Berkeley, drained by his inability to will a performance from her, had yet to warm up to his most caustic assault.

In fairness to ‘Buzz’, he was suffering from a horrendous ulcer, exacerbated by his woe unto strong drink. This had left him brittle and belligerent. But Judy, plagued by his chronic belittling, and seemingly worn to a frazzle, finally collapsed under the strain, suspending the completion of the number. By then, word on the lot had spread - one of them had to go. And, as Garland – not Berkeley’s – name was above the title, it came as virtually no surprise when he, not she, was given the ole heave-ho after finishing the finale that nearly finished its star. Production was shut down for nearly a month – a decision to wreak havoc on the scheduling of Garland, and costars, Nancy Walker and June Allyson. While Judy toggled between the sets of Girl Crazy and Presenting Lily Mars, Walker and Allyson split their time between this and the set of Best Foot Forward. Allyson, whose star was rising quickly at MGM, was given Girl Crazy’s specialty number, ‘Treat Me Rough’ while Walker appeared, as would become her métier, strictly as comic relief as Polly Williams. Uncharacteristic for an MGM musical, Girl Crazy utilized virtually all of the 1930 Broadway show’s original George and Ira Gershwin score, save ‘Fascinating Rhythm’ – plucked from the Gershwin’s other runaway stage smash, ‘Lady Be Good’. If Girl Crazy’s movie’s plot, that of a spoiled playboy given his comeuppance on a dude ranch, bore no earthly resemblance to the Gershwin’s stagecraft, their iconic songs were salvageable and neatly to fit into a new premise, adapted by screenwriters, Fred F. Finklehoffe, Dorothy Kingsley, William Ludwig and Sid Silvers. Of this lot, only Finkehoffe’s name would appear for the writing credits.  

Meanwhile, Berkeley’s replacement, director, Norman Taurog, proved far more empathetic to Garland’s emotional needs. As Judy always worked best when she believed the man behind the camera respected her, the rest of Girl Crazy ought to have been a piece of cake. Alas, hardly! To accommodate Mickey Rooney’s desire to go to Palm Springs, Taurog agreed to shoot the number ‘Could You Use Me?’ on a desolate strip of desert just beyond the city limits. This necessitated packing up a caravan of cast and crew in limousines and buses, adding considerable cost to the budget. But the first, and, second day’s shoot was chronically delayed due to technical difficulties, forcing everyone to retreat back to their hotel rooms. On the third morning, Garland failed to materialize – likely, for the best, as an epic sandstorm sent cast and crew scattering for cover, destroying equipment and decimating the plywood erected sets. Judy was felled again, this time, by ‘a romantic entanglement’ that sent her packing back to Los Angeles, and, disappearing for several more days while Taurog regrouped and shot, as best he could, around her absence until no more scenes could be made without his leading lady’s participation. As everyone sat idle in their desert digs, tensions mounted – enough to land a fully clothed Roger Edens in the swimming pool one evening.

The thimble of a plot to Girl Crazy concerns, Danny Churchill (Mickey Rooney), heir to his father’s (Henry O'Neill) publishing empire. Alas, after Danny’s latest scandal, performing an impromptu song and dance at one of New York’s nightclubs, is covered in all the papers, Mr. Churchill makes the executive decision to take his son out of Yale, and instead, send him to Cody College of Mines and Agriculture in Codyville, as remote a spot on the American West as one could hope to find. The college is not coeducational. And, as the town is practically nonexistent, the prospects for Danny getting into any more trouble with the opposite sex are virtually nil. Trudging 8 miles in the stifling heat of the desert, Danny comes upon local postmistress, Ginger Gray (Judy Garland) attempting engine repair on her old conked out jalopy. Danny is immediately smitten, emotions hardly reciprocated by the more forthright Ginger. As Danny’s reputation as a bon vivant has preceded him, she is not amused by his sophomoric advances. After getting her car to start, Ginger leaves Danny stranded to lump it on foot the rest of the way to the college. Upon his arrival at Cody, Danny is greeted by a cohort of his fellow students, including roommate, Bud Livermore (Gil Stratton) who waste no time ‘breaking him in’ to their daily routines, including rising at the crack of dawn and riding one of the roughest broncos, Whitey, to their scheduled barbeque. Alas, the buck is spirited. After Whitey throws Danny, Rags (Rags Ragland), an ex-New York cabbie presently working for the college, gives him a ride to the BBQ in his buckboard. Despite his initial smart talk, Danny proves to be a team player, invigorated by his desire to win Ginger’s heart.  

She, of course, feigns little interest in him – at first. Resigned to this rejection, Danny briefly contemplates leaving Cody for home. He is persuaded otherwise and returns to the college on the eve of a grand birthday celebration given in Ginger’s honor where the amiable, if slightly dull suitor, Henry Lathrop (Robert E. Strickland) proposes marriage. Tenderly, Ginger lets Henry down. Elated by her rejection of Henry, Danny reveals himself to Ginger now and confides he has come back to Cody just to be near her. As proof of his fidelity, Danny offers Ginger his grandmother's locket. And while flattered, she instead urges him to hold on to it for luck. Later, Danny gives Rags a message to wire back home. However, when Rags hands it to the clerk, who reads it aloud in front of Henry and other Cody students, they discover Danny has very little good to say about the college. Disgusted by his comments, Henry makes them known to Dean Phineas Armour (Guy Kibbee) who orders Henry and Danny to call a truce to their competitiveness. And although Danny steadily makes inroads into Ginger’s heart, the pair are devastated when Dean Armour informs them the college will close after this semester, due to poor enrollment. Exploiting his father’s business and society contacts, Danny manages a momentary reprieve for the school from Governor Tait (Howard Freeman) – but only if the pending fall’s enrollment improves. Yet, how to achieve this miracle. Once again, Danny has the answer; by ‘bringing back the west’ in a spectacular show and beauty contest, surely to put Cody on the map and increase its popularity with potential students.

Tait agrees to a 30-day stay of his initial order to close Cody. As a pledge of good faith, Danny is invited by Tait to attend the coming out party of his daughter, Marjorie (Francis Rafferty). At the ball, Danny plies his slick charm to all the attractive debutantes eager to participate in the planned beauty contest. Alas, Marjorie takes a liking to Danny and, much to his chagrin, manages to snatch away his grandmother’s locket. At the beauty contest, Danny confides his love for Ginger, but awards Marjorie the top prize as the contest’s winner. Spying the locket about Marjorie’s neck, Ginger presumes Danny is merely up to his own playboy tricks and bitterly packs with plans to return back East. With little time to spare, Danny retrieves the locket from Marjorie, much to her chagrin, and rushes to Ginger’s side. Invigorated by his devotion to her, and also, amazed when literally hundreds of applications for enrollment arrive at Cody for the fall semester, thus transforming it into a coeducational institution and sparing its foreclosure, Ginger and Danny race to the pre-arranged fundraising show, featuring Tommy Dorsey and his orchestra, to perform the spirited ‘I Got Rhythm’ finale.

With a magical score from the Gershwins, to include a pair of gorgeous ballads, ‘Embraceable You’ and, ‘But Not For Me’, Girl Crazy was an unabashedly sentimental and vigorous smash for MGM. Curiously, it also marked the end to that 4-picture spate of Garland/Rooney musicals, begun with 1939’s Babes in Arms. Why Mayer never reteamed Garland and Rooney again remains a mystery. The costars would make only one final appearance together, Garland performing a cameo and singing ‘I Wish I Were In Love Again’ with Rooney in Words and Music (1948); by then, two old pros of the Hollywood gristmill, with minor exceptions, whose most prolific spate of ‘best work’ was decidedly behind them. Girl Crazy also marked the official kick start to producer, Arthur Freed’s musical outpouring at MGM. Given carte blanche by L.B. Mayer to pursue whatever properties he deemed profitable, Freed’s verve for the movie musical had, in only a few short years, transformed Metro’s backlot into a veritable paradise of popular pictures and stars; responsible for acquiring the contracts of Gene Kelly, June Allyson, Lucille Ball, Lena Horne, Eleanor Powell, Busby Berkeley and Vincente Minnelli, among others. And Freed’s output from 1939’s The Wizard of Oz onward, produced an enviable slate of mega hits in the musical genre, to include up until Girl Crazy, Babes in Arms, Strike Up the Band, and, Little Nellie Kelly (both in 1940), Lady Be Good, and, Babes on Broadway (both in 1941) Panama Hattie, and, For Me and My Gal (1942), and, Cabin in the Sky, Du Barry Was A Lady, Best Foot Forward and Girl Crazy (all in 1943). Ostensibly, Freed had yet to hit his real stride – throughout the next 2 decades, achieving ever-lasting immortality with such iconic fare as Meet Me In St. Louis (1944), The Harvey Girls (1946), Good News (1947), Easter Parade (1948), Annie Get Your Gun (1950), Show Boat, and, An American in Paris (1951), Singin’ in the Rain (1952), The Band Wagon (1953), and Gigi (1958) – to name only the highlights from his massive body of work.

Viewed today, Girl Crazy somehow seems less of a perfect entertainment than it once was, especially when compared to the formidable Babes on Broadway that preceded it, but has, as yet, to find its way to hi-def via the Warner Archive (WAC). Girl Crazy on home video has endured some problematic remastering efforts, as no original camera negative exists to perform a ground-up restoration. The DVD release from 2006 left a good deal to be desired, marred by a lot of edge enhancement and some chroma bleeding. WAC’s newly minted Blu-ray rectifies much of the sins of this aforementioned release. Alas, the main titles continue to be plagued by some curious mis-registration that causes the first few title credits to uncontrollably strobe. I really am at a loss to explain how this anomaly, virtually baked into all previous home video releases of Girl Crazy, has remained in this new 4K remastering effort, dumbed down to 1080p. Mercifully, the edge effects that afflicted the rest of the image are gone. Girl Crazy’s gray scale, however, is quite anemic. Everything falls into a mid-register of tonal grays with very few true blacks and/or pristine whites. Fine detail, however, is exceptional. For the first time, we get to see detail in hair, clothing and background information previously lost.  If William H. Daniels and Robert Planck’s cinematography never entirely sparkles as it likely once did, much of what is here is a vast improvement over how Girl Crazy has always looked on home video. Likely, WAC has done their very best to preserve much of the picture for future generations to study and admire. But again, the one exception I take umbrage to is the main titles – the first thing we see, and severely marred by image jitter and that ugly strobing effect. Badly done! The audio is 2.0 DTS mono and sounds marvelous. Extras have all been ported over from the previous DVD release and include a stereo cut of ‘I Got Rhythm’, several short subjects, and finally, a badly worn theatrical trailer. Bottom line: I was a little disappointed with this release, given WAC’s usual affinity for digitally correcting every and any shortcoming inherent in old remastering efforts of their back catalog. With just a hint of due diligence applied, this one could have been perfect. It’s not. Regrets.

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

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

2