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6.4/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.4/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Phil Spitalny and His Musical Queens remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
Look, if you’re looking for a plot, you’re in the wrong place. This isn't The Flirting Widow. It’s essentially a filmed stage act, and it knows exactly what it is.
Phil Spitalny’s orchestra is all-female, and they are very committed to the white gown aesthetic. It’s a bit jarring at first, seeing them all lined up like that, but you get used to the uniformity.
The music is fine. It’s that snappy, big band stuff that makes you feel like you’re sitting in a smoky lounge in 1940. Or, you know, watching a very old reel at 2 AM.
It reminded me a bit of the vibe in Rolling Along, just without the narrative stuff that actually keeps you guessing. It’s just ladies playing violins and then, suddenly, they’re singing. There’s zero transition.
One of the violinists looks like she’s trying to telepathically communicate with the camera operator. Or maybe she just forgot her lines. It’s impossible to tell. 🎻
If you have ten minutes and a strange urge to see what cabaret looked like before color film was a standard thing, sure, hit play. Otherwise, you’re not missing a masterpiece. It’s just curious, really.
I found myself wondering if they ever got tired of the white dresses. They look so stiff. But hey, the rhythm is there. It’s a weird, charming little artifact that doesn't pretend to be anything more than a show.