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Cult Review
Senior Film Conservator
Honestly, only if you're a serious film historian or someone who gets a kick out of watching 1930s-era variety acts. If you’re looking for a plot, you’re in the wrong place. This is pure, unadulterated archival fluff.
Who will hate this? Anyone who needs a story to keep them awake. If you hate variety hours, stay far away.
The film just throws stuff at you. We get an all-female string sextet dressed like they’re auditioning for a period piece in the French court, then suddenly we’re on a whirlwind musical history tour. It’s jarring, to say the least.
It reminds me a bit of the disjointed energy you find in A Coo-ee from Home, where the focus shifts so fast you get whiplash. One minute it's a sketch, next it's a travelogue of Sydney.
There’s this one segment where they try to condense all of musical history into a few minutes. It feels like watching a student film project that ran out of budget halfway through. It’s almost charming in its desperation to be entertaining.
Clyde Rose and the rest of the crew are doing their best, but you can feel the strain. Sometimes a reaction shot lingers for three seconds too long, and you start counting the dust motes on the lens. 📽️
It’s not as polished as something like Bucking Broadway, but it’s got this weird, scrappy heart. It doesn't really land any of its jokes, but it's not trying to be a masterpiece either. Sometimes it’s just nice to see what people thought was 'variety' ninety years ago.
I wouldn't watch it twice. But once? Sure, why not. Grab a coffee, ignore the plot holes, and just enjoy the outfits.