George White's 1935 Scandals is a weird, clunky time capsule

Is this thing worth your Saturday afternoon?

Honestly, only if you’re a massive fan of 1930s musical numbers or if you just really like watching Eleanor Powell tap her heart out. If you’re looking for a coherent story or characters you actually want to spend time with, you might want to look elsewhere.

The whole premise feels like it was written on a napkin in five minutes. George White (playing himself, because why not) gets annoyed that a small-town theater is using his name. Then, in the most convenient turn of events ever, he finds a group of perfect performers just hanging out in the middle of nowhere. It's almost too easy, isn't it?

The pacing is a complete mess. One minute we're in Georgia, and before you can even blink, we're suddenly in the middle of a massive New York production. It makes you wonder if they just forgot to film the middle part of the movie. Wait, where did the transition go?

Eleanor Powell is the only reason this thing stays afloat, really. Every time she hits the stage, the screen feels like it has actual electricity. She moves so fast it makes the rest of the cast look like they’re wading through molasses. You can tell the camera knows it, too—it just stays glued to her feet whenever she starts tapping.

A couple of notes from the sidelines:

• Ned Sparks is in this, and his voice is basically a permanent grumble. It’s kind of funny the first time, but by the tenth time, you just want him to take a nap.
• The "Scandals Beauties" scenes are exactly what you expect. A lot of synchronized walking and smiling into the void. It’s very 1935.
• The romantic drama between the leads feels like it was tacked on just so the movie would hit a standard runtime. You don't really buy that they're in love, and you certainly don't care when they start fighting.

There’s a weird, hollow feeling to the stage performances. It’s like the sound was recorded in a bathroom, and the crowd noise is clearly looped on a loop. It’s not quite as charmingly low-budget as Cracked Ice, but it definitely has that "we need to finish this by Friday" vibe.

I found myself zoning out during the dialogue scenes and checking my watch. The movie gets noticeably better when it stops trying to tell a story and just lets the performers do their thing. Maybe it should have just been a series of musical shorts?

It’s not bad, but it’s not really good either. It’s just... there. Like a piece of furniture you don't really notice until you trip over it. 🤷‍♂️