Whoopee! (1930)

At first rather annoying in its heavy emphasis on reenactments, this movie ultimately proves fascinating, simply because the complicated, highly dramatic tale it tells still almost defies belief.

A movie that not only functions as a solid scarefest but a razor-sharp satire.

It’s fine. It's literally the definition of a fine movie. You’ve seen it before, you know every beat and outcome before the characters even do. Only question is how much escapism you’re looking for.

There's a more than satisfactory amount of boom-boom in the movie's trim running time.

This early talkie musical in two-strip Technicolor is notable mainly as the first film to be choreographed by Busby Berkeley having previously done his stuff on the stage. His technique is noticeable even here in his early work with both the overhead shot of the dancers (which wasn't entirely his invention as some other previous sound films have this but this was one he frequently used) and the way he gets close-ups of all the pretty girls' faces when the camera pans on each one of them during their dances. This was also Eddie Cantor's first feature in the sound era. I had laughed plenty when first watching this on a VHS tape that I used to record off AMC when they were doing one of their Film Preservation Festivals of which this was a part of and I still did when watching this just now on YouTube. Even his blackface bit wasn't too offensive since he doesn't do the stereotypical dialect and does the shuffle for satirical purposes like most of his jokes concerning the pop culture of the time. He and Ethel Shutta as his nurse make a fine comedy team here. The story of a half-breed in love with a white woman which involves the romantic leads reflects the prejudicial attitudes of the time especially when it's conveniently revealed at the end that the man was actually a white infant left on the reservation just so they can marry without disapproval from the bride's father. So that story did not appeal to me then nor now but since Cantor is front and center most of the time, he made most of the picture go down easier for me. Oh, and I always love when he's performing "Makin' Whoopee" so there's that...

This is one of the oldest surviving all-color talking films. The only other one I can think of from 1930 that is still with us is Universal's "King of Jazz" and "Under a Texas Moon". It will probably seem odd to you at first that the sheriff and his deputies - I assume they are deputies - are all dressed in rather cartoonish over-sized cowboy hats and pink scarves, but you have to remember two things. First this is, at heart, a musical farce and the costumes are part of that farce. Secondly, remember that two-strip Technicolor was all they had in 1930, that it was still considered a treat by the public, and that pink and blue were the colors this process rendered best.The tale that acts as a vehicle for all of Eddie Cantor's antics is a simple one, and one that is repeated in several films over the years - that of forbidden love between races. Sally, a white girl, falls in love with Wanenis, an Indian. Since such marriages were forbidden, Wanenis goes away into the wilderness to deal with the fact they cannot be together. In the meantime, Sally's father arranges for her to marry Sheriff Bob Wells. Wanenis returns on Sally's wedding day, not knowing it is her wedding day. When Sally sees Wanenis, she knows she cannot go through with the sham wedding and runs away. The fun comes in with how she runs away. She tells sickly Henry Williams (Eddie Cantor) that she and Bob are planning to elope, and that she needs him to drive her into the next town. However, she leaves a note for everyone else saying she has eloped with Henry. Not only is the vengeful sheriff, his men, and Sally's father soon hot on their trail, but Henry's aggressively love-sick nurse is after them too. Only Wanenis finds this whole thing an odd turn of events and takes a short cut to go looking for them, separate from the rest of the pack. Complications and opportunities for Cantor's always enjoyable remarks, eye movements, and musical interludes ensue.This film survives intact in splendid shape, and the Technicolor truly yields a spectacular painted desert. Although best remembered songs from this film will always be title song "Makin' Whoopee" and "My Baby Just Cares For Me", both performed by Eddie Cantor, I also really liked the love ballad sung by the star-crossed lovers Sally and Wanenis -"I'll Still Belong to You". It has an operatic quality that is typical of love songs from that era, and oddly enough was written by Nacio Herb Brown of MGM songwriting fame.Finally, let me mention the fact that some of the racial aspects of this film might leave the modern viewer squeamish such as the stereotypes of native peoples and the fact that Eddie Cantor usually appeared in black-face as part of his act and does here too. Try to remember that none of this is out of character for a film made 80 years ago and no mean-spiritedness was intended at the time. Highly recommended for a chance to see Eddie Cantor in one of his best.

I had my reservations about this movie before I watched it. But, when the movie ended, I was very surprised by how entertained I was.The storyline to this movie is very simple. Henry Williams (Eddie Cantor) elopes with Sally Morgan (Eleanor Hunt), who is already engaged to Sheriff Bob Wells (Jack Rutherford). After Bob Wells finds out that Sally and Henry eloped, him and his buddies head out to find Henry and Sally, and they plan to hang Henry as punishment for running off with the Sheriff's fiancé, and the comedy goes on from there.Like I said, it is a very entertaining film. Eddie Cantor shows his true comedic talent (as always) in this film. I would highly suggest this film. It is very humorous and entertaining. And it's got some great routines.

"Whooppee!" was made at a perfect time, 1930. It has experimentation with the new two-strip Technicolor process (which gives an unreal, pleasing pastel quality). The Hays Office (the censorship arm of movies from 1934 to 1956) hadn't come in, allowing for some funny off-color jokes, and some wild costuming of shapely dancing girls. The star, Eddie Cantor was in his prime. Eddie plays a hypochondriac on a cross country auto trip. He winds up at an Indian reservation, wrongfully hunted by the Sheriff. The film moves from being a comic gift from long ago, to a scary reminder of poor race relations only 70 years ago. Eddie hides in coal stove that explodes, and he emerges in black face, allowing him to walk past his pursuers in disquise. He approaches the leading lady of the film. She sees him and yells "How dare YOU speak to ME?!" Looking past the social-incorrectness of the film, the dance numbers have some amazing choreography by Busby Berkeley, who was just beginning to discover new and exciting ways to film dancers.