The Big Broadcast of 1936: A chaotic, star-studded mess

Is it worth your time?

Honestly, you watch The Big Broadcast of 1936 for the variety show segments and the sheer absurdity of the star power, not for the story. If you like classic Hollywood cameos and tap dancing that makes your knees hurt just watching it, you’ll have a ball. If you are the type of person who needs a coherent narrative arc to stay awake, skip it.

The whole thing is essentially an excuse to put every single person on the Paramount payroll in front of a camera. The Radio Eye is just a MacGuffin. It’s a giant circular screen that feels more like a prop from a fever dream than a piece of technology.

Wait, was that who I think it was?

The pacing is absolutely frantic. One minute we’re dealing with radio station drama, and the next we’re watching The Nicholas Brothers doing things that defy gravity. Seriously, the way they move makes you wonder if they were actually human.

Then there’s Ethel Merman. She shows up, sings, and reminds everyone else that she’s the loudest person in the room. It’s great. It’s also completely disconnected from the rest of the film, which is probably why it works.

Observations from the cheap seats

• Gracie Allen and George Burns are the only ones who seem to know they’re in a comedy. Everyone else is acting like they’re in a high-stakes thriller.
• The special effects for the 'Radio Eye' are remarkably charming for 1936. They look like someone just glued a magnifying glass to a TV set.
• The musical numbers go on for about three years each. My coffee went cold during the first one.

There is a weird sense of emptiness in the big ensemble scenes, as if the director just said, "stand there and look important while the music plays." It reminds me of the pacing issues in Maciste in vacanza, where you just sort of wait for the next physical stunt to happen so you can stop reading subtitles or tracking plot points.

The movie doesn't even try to pretend the plot matters after the first hour. It’s just one musical number after another, stitched together with threads so thin they’re practically invisible. I found myself checking my watch, not because I was bored, but because I couldn't believe how much talent they stuffed into one frame. It’s messy, sure. But it’s a fun kind of mess.

Don't look for deep meaning here. It’s a 1930s variety hour on steroids. If you want a movie that takes itself seriously, go watch something else. If you want to see what happens when a studio throws every single asset they have at the wall to see what sticks, this is your movie. It’s a strange, glittery relic. 📻✨