Midshipmaid Gob: A weirdly charming, dusty bit of musical theater

Is this actually worth the time?

Honestly, you probably already know if you like Midshipmaid Gob. If you’re a fan of those creaky, stage-bound British comedies from the thirties where everyone talks like they’re in a P.G. Wodehouse novel, you’ll have a blast. If you need pacing that doesn’t feel like it’s running through molasses, you might want to skip it.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Midshipmaid Gob (1932) through its definitive frames.

It’s one of those movies that feels more like a filmed variety hour than a real narrative. Sir Percy shows up, talks about saving money, and then immediately forgets all about the economy because there’s a stage to build. It makes no sense, but that’s the charm.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Midshipmaid Gob (1932) through its definitive frames.

The "Plot"

Celia is the engine of this whole thing. She decides the best way to deal with austerity measures is to put on a show for the fleet. Because, you know, nothing fixes a national debt crisis like a bunch of sailors singing in unison. The romantic stuff with the fiancé feels like it was tacked on in a single afternoon.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Midshipmaid Gob (1932) through its definitive frames.

There’s a scene where they’re rehearsing a dance number that goes on for a solid four minutes too long. You can almost see the actors wondering if they’re ever going to get a lunch break. It’s strangely hypnotic watching them try to hit their marks on a deck that definitely isn't moving.

Small things that caught my eye

• The extras in the background look like they haven’t seen a real ship in their entire lives.
• The dialogue is so clipped and proper it makes my teeth ache sometimes.
• Every time someone mentions "Naval expenditures," the movie gets a little more bored with itself.

It reminds me a bit of the vibe in Bashful Buccaneer, just with more singing and less actual buccaneering. There’s a similar feeling of "let's just put people in costumes and see what happens." It’s not quite as manic as Noisy Neighbors, but it gets the job done.

I found myself zoning out during the dialogue and just waiting for the next musical interlude. It’s the kind of film that doesn’t mind if you get up to make a sandwich while it’s playing. It’ll still be exactly where you left it when you get back. 🎷

It’s not trying to be The Animal Kingdom, and thank goodness for that. It’s just a bit of light fluff. Sometimes that’s enough, even if the ending feels like it was cut off with a pair of kitchen shears.