Ziegfeld Girl Reviews

Ignore that James Stewart, fresh off an Oscar win for The Philadelphia Story, gets top billing here. Here’s a supporting player to the trio of stage-struck hopefuls played by Judy Garland, Hedy Lamarr, and Lana Turner. The whole thing is overly long, the melodrama gets laid on a bit too thick, I did roll my eyes on several occasions, but this is the type of grand scale entertainment you’ll only find in the studio system.

Ziegfeld Girl, a loose sequel to The Great Ziegfeld, which it borrows plenty of footage from during the climatic show, is all about showing what it takes to make it in the big time, or how to burn out glamorously. Garland’s a vaudeville singer/actor that does a lot of work with her father but is getting eyed for a solo spot in the Follies. Lamarr is a devoted wife who takes the job after getting scouted during her husband’s violin audition out of pure desperation for money. Turner is discovered working an elevator and quickly goes from starry-eyed dreamer to alcoholic tramp precariously at the top of the social ladder.

If that’s not enough plot for you, there’s also James Stewart miscast as the bootlegger boyfriend of Turner, Tony Martin as a married crooner trying to have an affair with Lamarr, and Jackie Cooper as Turner’s younger brother who has a chaste romance with Garland. The whole thing is overstuffed and moves at a lugubrious pace towards a near uproarious finale for its sheer overwrought glamor trappings. Turner’s character can’t just die, she has to reenact her triumphant walk down the Follies stairs then collapse in an impassioned heap on the floor. It’s more camp white elephant cinema than honest-to-god entertainment.

It doesn’t help that two-thirds of the girls get the fuzzy end of the lollipop. Lamarr is gorgeous and swims through the frame in flowing gowns, but that’s the entirety of her role. There are a few bits where her character expresses a mild disdain for show biz and her life as a clotheshorse, which is a reflection of Lamarr’s own sensibilities. While Garland gives a rare misfire of a performance. She’s uneven as though she’s unsteadied about performing around her glamour girl co-stars. She’s a bit too self-conscious in spots, or too manic in others, but reliable in her comedic bits and that voice can sell you ice in the tundra.

It’s Lana Turner’s tragic bad girl that gets the fullest scope, and Turner rises to the occasion. She wasn’t much of an actress, but she was a presence that was fascinating to the camera. Her best roles matched her beauty with a destructive force that threatened to topple her away from sex goddess and into broken human. Ziegfeld Girl launches her into the stratosphere and waits a short bit before yanking her down into addiction, destitution, and eventual tragic (but highly photogenic) deathbed scene.    

Ziegfeld Girl is an ornate bauble that sparkles brightly but is an overly designed paper weight. Watch it for Turner’s star-making role, Lamarr’s narcotized glam, and Garland’s impassioned belting. Just don’t expect it to be one of the better films of anyone’s career.