The Harvey Girls Reviews

I have been screening dozens of movies from the Golden Age of cinema, and most times I go into them almost completely cold without any expectations. Other than knowing that this starred Judy Garland and her Wizard of Oz costar Ray Bolger, I didn't really know much else about it, While I did have a passing knowledge of Harvey Houses thanks to my strong interest in history, the fusion of that story with a musical was intriguing. This musical could easily be placed in my top 10 in that category, and one of the most entertaining movies I've seen from the golden age. The Harvey Girls has an embarrassment of riches with respect to the cast. Some favorite moments? When Judy Garland, with a determined gait and two six shooters, goes across to the saloon to take back a storehouse of stolen beefsteaks. Some incredible physical comedy. Unflinching. What's more, we are presented with the beloved Ray Bolger, and a dance number that is hypnotic and filled with pure joy. From top to bottom everyone in this cast is giving their all.

Ah, these cornpone musicals are delightfully hokey and corny. I mean, here’s a big musical starring Judy Garland with a tagline about “how the fairer sex conquered the Old West!” Deep or memorable art this is not, but it’s a pleasant way to spend two hours.

 

The Harvey Girls offers up a story about a group of girls banding together to find a better life for themselves by working as waitresses in a corporate establishment. Ye olde gentrification zips into effect as the presence of the girls symbolizes an encroaching domesticity and respectability to the rock ‘em, sock ‘em Wild West.

 

If there’s anything that leaves a major distaste in your mouth, it’s the sense that The Harvey Girls views women in two forms: virgins and whores. That old complex is presented in the challenging dynamic between Garland and a brazen, tough Angela Lansbury as Em, the leader of the saloon girls. The makers want us to root for Garland, but Lansbury has so much fun with her bad girl part that we feel ourselves inadvertently rooting for her schemes and machinations. The ending is smart enough to allow for a note of complexity in Em and let her off the hook for their rivalry, even if it comes at the cost of Em leaving for parts unknown.

 

Even worse is the unbelievable love triangle. Lansbury and Garland sell their material well, even if Lansbury’s vocal dubbing is not convincing, but John Hodiak is dead weight. He’s more convincing as the duplicitous core to the town’s moral rot than as a romantic foil for good girl Judy. He’s tamed and made an honest man by the film’s end, but Hodiak is possibly Garland’s weakest leading man and least convincing song-and-dance man.

 

You’d think all of these strikes against the film would render my enjoyment of The Harvey Girls as nil, but it’s not so. The film knows it’s goofy balm for a post-war psyche and turns up the hokum to eleven. There’s the bravura technique on display during the thundering “On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe” number that zips away from the rest of the film as a perfect piece of popcorn entertainment. Just as good is the low key “It’s a Great Big World” that finds Garland, Cyd Charisse, and Virginia O’Brien joining arms in sisterly solidarity against the knocks the wider world has given them. It’s touching and lovely for its combination of resilience and quietness.

 

The likes of O’Brien, Marjorie Main, and Ray Bolger add in some fun bits of color. O’Brien’s deadpan gets a humorous, cynical ditty in “The Wild, Wild West.” She promptly disappears from the film after this point due to Garland’s bad behavior and O’Brien’s growing pregnancy proving impossible to work around, but what a dry note to go out on. It’s generally sweet to see Garland and her rubber-legged scarecrow reunite on the big screen, and Bolger gets some cute bits to play in a smaller role. While Main delivers her gravely voiced, gruff mannered type, and I always welcome the sight of it.

 

No one will argue that is a high-water mark for anyone involved, but it’s an enjoyable B-list movie. This ersatz western town could only exist in the MGM dream factory, and even the just competent of those films offer up minor pleasures. Here’s Garland, the queen of the splashy Technicolor musical in fine form, surrounded by a pleasant enough score, reliable supporting players, and a silly script. What more do you need?