"Safety In Numbers" makes you wonder if Buddy Rogers' career would have gained more momentum had it been filmed in, say, 1934-5, after the clunkiness of early sound-on-film technology had been ironed out. This was clearly meant to be a showcase for Rogers, and he certainly makes the most of his musical opportunities, singing in every number except "You Appeal To Me." Come to think of it, NOBODY sings "You Appeal To Me," because Carole Lombard could not sing, choosing instead to speak the lyrics over the orchestral accompaniment. But Rogers zips through his songs, even playing the drums and piano at one point, not to mention a wicked trombone solo during "The Pick-Up." The only problem seems to be whether or not Rogers is meant to be a libertine or a sweet guy - clearly his uncle imagines him to be a jazz-and-sex crazed rogue, but Rogers' sweet pan and wholesome, charming personality suggest nothing more decadent than a high school football captain slightly intoxicated on grandma's elderberry wine.
Regardless, the film is a risqué romp through an early Depression garden of opportunities to see young women in their underthings for extended periods of time (Rogers ingenuously asks one of the girls what a bra is - she answers: "A ping-pong net." He deadpans: "I love ping-pong.") It's difficult to tell Carole Lombard and Josephine Dunn apart in long shot, but up close (and when they opens their mouths), it's clear that Lombard had an edge on Dunn in terms of comedy and timing. Both Dunn and Crawford were forgotten by the mid-thirties; the former's blandness and the latter's staginess probably did nothing to contribute to their longevity.
Credit goes to George Marion Jr.'s lyrics - he is one of the more obscure Tin Pan Alley lyricists, but I always find his words snappy, literate, and loaded with internal rhymes and fresh ideas (ridiculous as "A Bee in Your Boudoir" might be, it's a clever song that sticks in your head).
If you can find the film, give it a whirl, for the sake of Buddy Rogers, a half dozen great songs, and a look at the "naughty" musical cinema of the Depression before the Code crackdown in mid-1934.
Regardless, the film is a risqué romp through an early Depression garden of opportunities to see young women in their underthings for extended periods of time (Rogers ingenuously asks one of the girls what a bra is - she answers: "A ping-pong net." He deadpans: "I love ping-pong.") It's difficult to tell Carole Lombard and Josephine Dunn apart in long shot, but up close (and when they opens their mouths), it's clear that Lombard had an edge on Dunn in terms of comedy and timing. Both Dunn and Crawford were forgotten by the mid-thirties; the former's blandness and the latter's staginess probably did nothing to contribute to their longevity.
Credit goes to George Marion Jr.'s lyrics - he is one of the more obscure Tin Pan Alley lyricists, but I always find his words snappy, literate, and loaded with internal rhymes and fresh ideas (ridiculous as "A Bee in Your Boudoir" might be, it's a clever song that sticks in your head).
If you can find the film, give it a whirl, for the sake of Buddy Rogers, a half dozen great songs, and a look at the "naughty" musical cinema of the Depression before the Code crackdown in mid-1934.