Variety Girl

All-star films were all the rage in the mid-1940s. Almost every Hollywood studio showcased its top contract players in lightweight vehicles that either saluted popular songwriters, pumped up enthusiasm for the war effort, or allowed drama kings and queens the chance to let their hair down and spoof their image. 1947's Variety Girl falls into the latter category, but despite more than 30 cameos by some of Paramount's biggest stars, this scatter-brained, behind-the-scenes look at Hollywood is one of the genre's weakest entries. While it's fun to spot all the various personalities in different milieus, the flimsy plot labors mightily to work them in and keep the film afloat.

Variety Girl owes its hook to the real-life Variety Clubs International, a non-profit organization that caters to underprivileged children. (It's still around today, although rebranded as Variety - the Children's Charity.) In the film's prologue, Barbara Stanwyck explains how an abandoned baby girl left on a movie theater seat in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania after a screening of Wings in 1927 transformed a show-biz social club into a charity. From there, the scenario veers into fictional territory, chronicling the madcap adventures of the original orphaned tot, who's now all grown up, an aspiring singer, and eager to make a splash in the movies.

Paramount Pictures agrees to give Catherine Brown (Mary Hatcher) a screen test, but before the perky, wide-eyed young woman arrives at the studio, a mix-up allows ambitious Hollywood wannabe Amber La Vonne (Olga San Juan) to assume Catherine's identity and nab the attention of the Paramount talent department instead. That makes it harder for Catherine to get noticed, but of course this Cinderella eventually gets her happy ending. Along the way, we visit such iconic Hollywood locales as the forecourt at Grauman's Chinese Theater and Brown Derby restaurant and traipse around the Paramount studio lot.

The plot, of course, is secondary to all the cameos that fuel the film. Though Bing Crosby and Bob Hope receive top billing, they're not really headliners. Their roles are slightly larger than those of the other guest stars, but they still play themselves and only figure minimally in the narrative. Their banter is the best part of the movie, which spends a bit too much time focusing on the beleaguered and hapless Paramount studio chief R.J. O'Connell (Frank Ferguson), who finds himself mired in myriad slapstick situations, much like Seth Rogen's Matt Remick in the current TV series The Studio. Could the humble Variety Girl possibly have been a model for that satirical comedy? (Probably not.)

In addition to Crosby, Hope, and Stanwyck, such A list Golden Age stars as Ray Milland, Gary Cooper, William Holden, Burt Lancaster, Lizabeth Scott, Paulette Goddard, Robert Preston, a young Sterling Hayden, Joan Caulfield, Veronica Lake, William Bendix, Barry Fitzgerald, and John Lund make appearances, along with a bunch of recognizable character actors. Alan Ladd and Dorothy Lamour team up for a musical number. (Who knew Ladd could sing? Well, he really can't.) Pearl Bailey makes her screen debut in a sultry, sassy specialty, and in just his second feature DeForest Kelley - who would gain immortality decades later as Dr. McCoy on the TV series Star Trek and its movie spin-offs - plays a Paramount employee who romances Catherine. Even such acclaimed Hollywood directors as Cecil B. DeMille, Mitchell Leisen, and Variety Girl's own director George Marshall pop up.

The effervescent San Juan (known as the "Puerto Rican Pepperpot" during her prime) excels in her musical and comedy scenes, often eclipsing coloratura soprano Hatcher, who seems to be channeling her inner Kathryn Grayson for most of the movie. The two make a lively pair, but struggle to overcome the limitations of a script that's more concerned with gags and disjointed interludes than character development and narrative cohesion. One of those interludes, a stop-motion animated puppet show called Romeow and Julicat, was originally shot in Technicolor, but appears here in black-and-white like the rest of the film. Whether the color footage still exists remains a mystery, but if it does, it's a shame it couldn't be included on this Blu-ray release. It really would have enlivened the proceedings.

Variety Girl supplies plenty of variety, and that's its ultimate downfall. A little more care and craftsmanship would have bolstered this gimmicky comedy-musical that can't seem to get out of its own way. If you're a Crosby-Hope completist or a diehard fan of one of the other guest stars, you might want add this flick to your collection, but as a stand-alone feature it misses the mark.

Vital Disc Stats: The Blu-ray
Variety Girl arrives on Blu-ray packaged in a standard case. Video codec is 1080p/AVC MPEG-4 and audio is DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono. Once the disc is inserted into the player, the static menu without music immediately pops up; no previews or promos precede it.

It doesn't appear as if any remastering has been performed on the film, but the source material for the 1080p/AVC MPEG-4 transfer is good enough to provide a relatively seamless viewing experience. The picture won't knock your socks off by any stretch, but clarity and contrast are quite good and the original grain structure remains intact, thus preserving the feel of celluloid. Some fairly severe image instability plagues the opening credits, but once the narrative begins the shaking stops and it's smooth sailing thereafter. Blacks are a bit anemic, whites are crisp, and a wide grayscale enhances detail and depth. Close-ups are sharp, but lack the wow factor of more refined transfers, and only a modicum of print damage disrupts the proceedings. (The biggest offenders are reel change markers.) Considering the mediocre reputation of Variety Girl, it's not surprising more care wasn't lavished on it, but the transfer is quite watchable and fans should be pleased overall.

The DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono track supplies clear, well-modulated sound. A wide dynamic scale gives the musical numbers plenty of room to breathe, while good fidelity provides a nice depth of tone. All the dialogue and song lyrics are well prioritized and easy to comprehend, and no age-related hiss, pops, or crackle intrude. This track isn't anything special, but it gets the job done without calling undue attention to itself.

There are no extras on the disc, not even a trailer.

Variety Girl just might be the weakest 1940s all-star film, but the cameos are still fun to see and some arch humor brightens the inane tale of competing movie star wannabes on the Paramount lot. À serviceable transfer and solid audio make the viewing painless, but this lightweight musical comedy is strictly For Fans Only. 

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