5/10
As visions of sugar plums tap-danced on their brains.
5 January 2013
Warning: Spoilers
Once upon a time, there was a glorious kingdom named Hollywood where the stars had faces but no voices. A beloved cowboy star (Richard Dix) was the hero of kids everywhere, particularly Billy (Bill Burrud), a young boy who has spent the most of his life inside and outside of hospitals. But Dix's reign was not to last. A nasty little device called sound recording equipment came in and made it impossible for him to ride the range and speak at the same time. The Dukes and Duchesses of the new sound era of film considered him a has-been, a peasant among royalty, except one: his former leading lady (Fay Wray) who has managed to (at least) temporarily survive the transition from silent films to sound. She gets him a supporting role in a movie, but when Dix discovers that the director wants him to play a villain, he rebels and walks off the set. All finished, Dix is packing it in when the young fan shows up at his doorstep, pleading with him to let them visit. Feeling sorry for the kid, Dix sets up a party for the stand-ins of Hollywood stars to make guest appearances so young Billy will be able to return home happy.

A fantasy world of Hollywood, this is an extended version of dozens of shorts and a variation of such features as "Merton of the Movies", "Once in a Lifetime", "Movie Crazy" and the same year's "A Star is Born". There's even a trace of "Singin' in the Rain" with its view of the transition of Hollywood in its most difficult period outside of the depression. Chances to see Garbo and Dietrich together (or at least their look-alikes), Chaplin and W.C. (with Mae West nearby) clowning, as well as Crawford, Crosby, Shearer and the delightful Zeffie Tillbury ("The Grapes of Wrath's" feisty grandmother and the cranky old lady in an "Our Gang" short who uses a slingshot to destroy all of her pills) as May Robson's stand-in. Dix, a mega-star of the early '30's ("Cimarron") seems a bit "long in the tooth" to be a matinée idol, but Wray is lovely. If you can get over the sentimentality of the ailing pre-teen, you may enjoy this. I found it a bit manipulative, self-congratulating and obvious, but enjoyed it in spite of those misgivings.
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