Rufus Jones for President: A surreal, tiny time capsule

Is it worth your time?

If you have an itch for weird, forgotten musical oddities from the early thirties, sure. Go for it. But if you are looking for a coherent story, you might find yourself staring at the screen wondering how we got here. It is short, it is loud, and it is honestly a bit of a mess. Sammy Davis Jr. is the whole show here, even at seven years old. He has that spark that you can’t really teach.

The whole thing feels like a stage play that got lost on its way to a movie set. The sets are flat, the lighting is harsh, and everyone seems to be performing at a volume of eleven. There is this weird, frantic energy that reminds me a little bit of the chaotic bits in Betty Boop's Crazy Inventions, just with more singing and less animation.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Rufus Jones for President (1933) through its definitive frames.

Seeing a child cast as the President is obviously the hook, but the movie doesn't really know what to do with that premise. It just sort of jumps from one song number to the next. It’s exhausting in a way that feels oddly earnest. The Jubilee Singers show up, and suddenly the room feels way too small for the amount of sound they’re pushing out.

Some thoughts while watching:

• The transition between scenes is basically non-existent. It’s like the editor just gave up.
• Sammy’s tap dancing is honestly better than most adults I’ve seen on screen.
• The political commentary? Yeah, don’t look for it. It’s not there.
• The Will Vodery Girls have these costumes that look like they were made out of leftover stage curtains.

It is definitely not a masterpiece. It feels like one of those things you dig up in an attic and wonder, "Why did anyone think this was a good idea?" But then, Sammy starts dancing, and you stop caring about the plot holes. It’s not polished, but it is definitely alive in a way a lot of modern stuff isn't. 🤷‍♂️

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Rufus Jones for President (1933) through its definitive frames.

It’s definitely a weird companion to something like Introduce Me if you’re trying to build a playlist of strange, early sound-era curios. Just don’t expect it to make much sense by the time the credits roll. It barely makes sense while it's happening.

I found myself wondering if they just let the kid improvise half of this. Some of the expressions he makes at the camera are genuinely funny, totally unscripted-looking stuff. The movie gets a lot better once it stops trying to pretend it’s a political satire and just lets everyone sing their hearts out.