Why do I think that this project -- scripted by a small legion of writers and storysmiths -- wasn't originally conceived as a Gold Diggers project. But the glittering title had been dormant for a while and maybe it could con a few more moviegoers into plunking down their silver. At least it had Busby Berkeley's choreography. Despite the fact that Rudy Vallee is no Dick Powell, Rosemary Lane is no Joan Blondell and the story has enough holes to drive a double-decker tour bus through, it's surprisingly entertaining. And Berkeley's high-stepping Parisian finale, while not as heady as "My Forgotten Man" or "Lullaby of Broadway" is a synchronized marvel. There's also a surprising pleasure -- the Schnickelfritz Band, a wonderfully lunatic musical aggregation who combine dixieland jazz and slapstick. It's almost worth watching just for these musical maulers who preceded and may well have inspired Spike Jones.
Review of Gold Diggers in Paris
