A Little Of This, A Little Of That

From Bette Midler’s 1976 tour, Live at Last. A little schtick, a little ballad. I saw it at the Century Theater in Buffalo and remember this bit vividly.

If You Like Swing Music. . .

This classic clip from the Three Stooges (doubly so, as it’s in color) shows the triad with a bevy of Columbia-brand cuties getting into the mood, with a most unlikely inspiration (date and director unknown).

Er, These What?

Dedicated to none other than Keith H, who I can still see doing the shimmy to this song all these years later. From “Lust in the Dust” (1985, dir Paul Bartel).

Three Hep Cats

Nothing is more enjoyable than trolling through video sites that feature some great singers enjoying each other’s company. That feeling is present here, as Eddie Fisher, Andy Williams, and Bobby Darin begin singing “Do Re Mi,” a little self-consciously at first, then warming to it as they feel the audience responding. The formal wear, the simple stage, and that beautiful Technicolor all make for a dazzling number.

They Called Her A Saloon Singer

And in this video you can see why and hear what the term means. Dorothy Loudon had a hit on Broadway in “Annie” just before her turn in “Ballroom,” from which this song comes. Sentimental odes to marital infidelity don’t come around that often, much less sympathetic ones, but Loudon pulls it off.

I Don’t Know If I Ought

The slattern. Of course she doesn’t, but she does it anyway. Here, the estimable Ginger Rogers does the infamous Black Bottom in Roxy Hart (1940, dir William Wellman), the basis for the musical play and Oscar-winning film Chicago.

Two Pros

Two American cultural giants — Mary Martin (l) and Ethel Merman (r), of course — perform during the legendary production put on to commemorate Ford’s 50th anniversary in 1953. It is safe to say that we shall never see the like again.

She Wonders Where Her “Easy Rider” Has Gone!

So she does, does she? Even an old pro like West (who by the time this has been filmed had been on the stage for thirty years) can get nervous (“I hope they tuned that pie-anny”). This most captivating of women puts on a little show for the likes of sailors (note how modern-day handsome the cigar smoking fellow is [during the audience pan]). In She Done Him Wrong (1933, dir Lowell Sherman), we even get a glimpse of the young Cary Grant — as a Salvation Army missionary bent on saving Mae. Who — for the love of Christ! — is to save whom?

‘Tis Herself

Now, the affection that gay men have for Judy Garland is terribly cliché, but there is no denying how powerful this clip is if you know the story. President Kennedy often called Garland (an ardent supporter of his 1960 run for the presidency) when he was troubled. She would sing any song he requested — her knowledge of songs was encyclopedic. When he was killed, on November 22, 1963, her show was on hiatus. Her first live show on December 13 was, for her, a chance to pay tribute to a man she admired and loved. The poobahs at CBS decided that her tribute would or could be seen as an endorsement of specifically Democratic policies. As the Civil Rights Act was among them, they put the kibosh on her explicit dedication of songs to the slain president, for fear of losing viewers in the South. She wangled a tribute anyway, and her audience rewarded her with a standing ovation. Garland, no stranger to fans’ devotion, thought of this as one of the proudest moments of her life on stage.

Oh, Misha, Really Now

Technically? A knockout. Stylistically? Stratospheric.