After watching Ray Enright and Busby Berkeley's Dames in one of my film studies classes, one of my friends leaned over to me and said, "You could do an entire women's studies course on that The Girl at the Ironing Board number." The sequence in question was a self-contained musical number in the grand tradition of Busby Berkeley's theatrical-shows-within-a-movie. In this number, a bright-eyed woman sings of the pleasures of doing "her man's" laundry and housework. This includes her ironing his pants, scrubbing his shirts, and hanging his clothes out to dry. From a technical standpoint the number is incredibly done. But in hindsight, the scene's horrific views on women make it almost unwatchable from today's standards. But that's showbiz, I guess. You may have gotten a negative vibe from the first few sentences of this review, but in reality I enjoyed Dames. It features a standard "let's put on a play" plot where a bunch of scrappy, confident youngsters get together, defy the odds, and create a hit show. The first two-thirds consist of the film's narrative interspersed with occasional static musical numbers. But the last third is the play itself. In these scenes the Berkeley musical numbers shine with their characteristic innovation, technical prowess, and complete disregard for the rules of physics or modern good taste. However, I didn't enjoy the film as much as the other Berkeley musicals that I've seen like 42nd Street (1933) or Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933). In many of the lavish Berkeley numbers the girls look visibly exhausted and drained. One of the main characters played by Joan Blondell can't sing a note. But the comedic relief is excellent, the music catchy, and the dancing superb. If only they didn't have a number about how great it is for women to do their husband's laundry...
7/10
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