Category: Showbiz Musicals


One evening in New York City, after a wonderful romantic evening with a girl I was seeing, I walked her to the subway, and on my walk back to my apartment in the primarily Caribbean Crown Heights, I softly sang and subtly danced to “I Could Have Danced All Night” from My Fair Lady. As one of the few Caucasians in the mostly Caribbean neighborhood, I didn’t have to do much to stand out, and singing a show-tune as I walked down the street didn’t help matters. But, I was so happy and so content that I didn’t care who saw or who laughed. When people in old musicals are so overcome with happiness or sorrow that they simply burst into song, I get it. It happens to me in real life. I just don’t have an array of back-up singers (or actual musical talent) and lavish dance routines.

I’ve discussed at length on this blog the special place that musicals hold in my heart and the complicated feelings I’ve developed for them as I’ve gotten older and my tastes have gotten more sophisticated (and my critical skills grew sharper). Grease was one of the first non-children’s movies that I can remember watching, and there’s always been something about theatrical song and dance numbers that have appealed to me on a deep and personal level ever since. Unfortunately, I also recognize that a lot of these “classic” musicals are also sort of hilariously bad in the actual storytelling department. 1954’s There’s No Business Like Show Business is no exception to that rule. It’s gorgeous production and sublime Irving Berlin score make it worth every musical lover’s time, but it’s story borders on non-existent.


The Donahue clan, led by matriarch Molly (Ethel Merman) and Terry (Dan Dailey), are a struggling vaudeville family act. Though the group finds great success when the parents are joined by their children, Tim (Singing in the Rain‘s Donald O’Connor), Katie (Mitzi Gaynor), and Steve (Johnnie Ray), it isn’t long before the family act starts to fall apart. Steve wants to become a priest, and Tim falls head over heels in love with coat-check girl (and aspiring singer), Vicky Parker (How to Marry a Millionaire‘s Marilyn Monroe). And when Vicky’s career begins to take off, and she brings Tim and Katie along to be part of her new Broadway revue, it spells the beginning of the end of the Five Donahues as a performing act. Throw in Tim’s suspicion that Vicky is having an affair with her manager, and the family is set on a path towards disaster.

I love Donald O’Connor. I doubt that’s a controversial statement. He’s clearly the best part of Singing in the Rain. The title track of that film is great, but “Make ‘Em Laugh” is the best number of that whole film. And he does not disappoint in There’s No Business Like Show Business. The man can dance and he can sing, and he delivers a snappy one-liner with the best of them, and it’s always puzzled me that he wasn’t a bigger star (though I get it. He didn’t have leading man looks). Although I suspect the film would have been enjoyable without him, I also know for a fact that I wouldn’t have liked There’s No Business Like Show Business nearly as much without O’Connor’s presence. There’s a number after Tim kisses Vicky for the first time that has quickly become one of my favorite set pieces from a classic musical.


Marilyn Monroe on the other hand… she really isn’t a great actress, but unlike How to Marry a Millionaire, this film shows off an area where Monroe is actually startlingly talented: burlesque-adjacent numbers. Whenever Monroe has to deliver actual dialogue, she’s more stiff and unnatural on screen than even the non-professional cast of Steven Soderbergh’s disastrous Bubble. But, when she’s performing her musical numbers in the film, which give her a chance to show off her sultry and simmering sexuality, it’s like watching an entirely different performer. The only other actresses from that era who seem to be as aware and in control of their sexuality were Liz Taylor and Lauren Bacall. And, Monroe’s confidence and presence sell every second of her musical numbers. For an actress that we’ve come to know (from historical records) as suffering from crippling self-esteem issues, it is surprising how well she carries herself in the film’s sizzling musical numbers from Miss Monroe.

And the rest of the cast is full of established musical talent. Ethel Merman is a Broadway legend, and although her performance is about as campy as they get, it fits the silly and fun mood of this film far better than a more serious take would have. Dan Dailey was appropriately lecherous but loveable as the beleaguered family patriarch although it was probably in the film’s best interest that he was involved in as few of the musical numbers as he was. Johnnie Ray shone during what little screen time he had, at least from a singing perspective (his acting wasn’t phenomenal), and I more or less immediately fell in love with the beautiful Mitzi Gaynor who played the sister. Looking at her IMDB page, she appears to have mostly done musicals and never had much of a career which is a shame because she was both gorgeous and talented.


The costume work and set design and general composition of this film is a glorious exercise in excess. Early in the film, the Donahue’s perform a deliciously over-the-top take on the old Irving Berlin standard “Alexander’s Ragtime Band” that is far more complex and expensive than they should be able to afford, but I loved every second of its multi-national ridiculousness. And, as mentioned earlier, there’s a glorious performance of “A Man Chases a Girl (Until She Catches Him)” performed with fountains and back-up dancers disguised as statues from Donald O’Connor. That was the moment when I surrendered myself to the silly fun of There’s No Business Like Show Business. As someone who’s danced down the streets of Brooklyn after a wonderful evening with a girl, it spoke to me.

There’s No Business Like Show Business isn’t ever going to stand in the pantheon of great movie musicals, and the performance of “Heat Wave,” which featured what I’ll refer to as blackface-adjacent backup dancers, was a little offensive, but like Babes in Arms before it, there’s something just undeniably fun about this film despite (actually probably because of) its ridiculous nature. The songs are great, and not even the sight of Ethel Merman with absurd mutton-chop sideburns during “A Sailor’s Not a Sailor (Until a Sailor’s Been Tattooed” should deter you from watching this film if you have a soft spot in your heart for old musicals. If you aren’t a fan of musicals, I can’t imagine that There’s No Business Like Show Business will convert you, but for those in the fold, it’s worth the two hours of your time.

Final Score: B


Musicals are my ultimate guilty pleasure. Often threadbare plots are orchestrated around giving people the opportunity to sing and dance in often illogical and unrealistic fashion, but I eat it up like it’s going out of style. A lot of this (and so much of my personality) can be attributed to the fact that one of the first movies I can remember watching was Grease, and it’s soundtrack was also one of the first albums I can remember owning (along with Savage Garden’s self-titled LP). The sheer theatricality and enthusiasm of the productions more often than not makes up for stories that don’t particularly work and musical numbers that make no sense in the context of the film’s universe. However, for every musical I love, there are so many I can’t stand like Gypsy as the most recent (in terms of my seeing it) example. Even good music can’t save the humdrum plot or the music simply wasn’t good either. I just finished watching 1979’s The Rose which is a thinly veiled biography of Janis Joplin, and in a rare subversion of most musicals that I dislike, I found myself enthralled with Bette Midler’s fiery performance and the stellar soundtrack while simultaneously loathing practically every second of the cliched and trite story that formed the core of this overly long film.

As mentioned, The Rose is the tragic story of Janis Joplin (for who else could this film possibly be about) although Bette Midler’s character, the titular Rose, is never called Janis and is someone else entirely. The Rose is a rock and roll legend who is on a whirl-wind national tour at the height of her popularity. However, the Rose has grown tired of her life of booze, drugs, and constant work and wants to take a year off. Her manager Rudge (Alan Bates) is a controlling and greedy man who is willing to sacrifice the Rose’s well-being in order to make money and works her to near exhaustion as well as pushing more drugs and booze on her. The Roses’s life is changed for the better when she meets a cab driver named Huston who tries to give her joy in life outside of her work as well as legitimate love and affection which she hasn’t had in years. However, the demands of her career and fame work to drive a wedge in their relationship as well as conspire towards Rose’s ultimate downfall.

Bette Midler was spectacular in this role. I might have hated 75% of this film but when she was putting her performance in all four gears, she was just a sight to behold. Previous to this film, my knowledge of Bette Midler was restricted to Hocus Pocus and her guest role on Seinfeld. I never knew the kind of emotional depths and tragic vulnerability that she was capable of achieving. Also, her voice just blew me away. The film’s only real saving grace outside of Midler was the film’s soundtrack and Bette Midler has a lot to do with the success there. She does a cover of Percy Sledge’s “When a Man Loves a Woman” that I almost prefer to the original version. Frederic Forest does a good job as the enigmatic Huston who is the anchor holding Rose down to the sane world. There was a natural chemistry between the two stars that added a layer of believability to their romance that was sorely missing from the rest of the film.

Now, here are the problems with the film. With the exception of the Rose (who is still frustratingly ill-defined), every single character in this film is more of a caricature of an established type than a fully formed creation. Her manager Rudge is so villainous and evil that he really becomes camp rather than someone I can believe to have really existed. Huston seems to be the prototypical down-to-earth country boy so completely that I almost expect that they stole an extra off of a John Ford film. There’s only one scene where he really seems to be as fallible as anyone else in the film. Also, the film’s subject matter was handled in such a heavy-handed manner that there was no chance for any subtlety in the production. The way it handled addiction and the pressures of fame often made me think I had accidentally put on a PBS special rather than a feature film. The film came off as so preachy and cliche that I could never lose myself in the story taking place on screen.

This is one of those films that I can only really recommend for academic reasons. For students of film, Bette Midler’s performance is spectacular and it deserves some analysis. However, the film itself manages to drain all of the joy I get from her bravado. This movie’s score is a balance between how much I loved Bette Midler and how much I despised virtually every other aspect of the film. When I first added this movie to my blog, I thought it was a remake of Gypsy because I thought Bette Midler was in a remake of that film. When it turned out to be entirely different subject matter, I became less worried about the film. I honestly think I would have enjoyed sitting through another version of a musical I already don’t like very much. In summation, only serious students of film or those that love Bette Midler should subject themselves to the boring torture that is this bloated and trite feature.

Final Score: C+