42nd Street [DVD] [1933]

The premiere Warner Bros. musical of the 1930s (which, as of 2001, is in revival in its stage incarnation in New York) has been given unusually ambitious treatment on a low-priced DVD. The transfer runs circles around the laserdisc edition in clarity and contrast, and the audio, although mastered at a slightly low level, is smooth and clean, without any of the harshness of the prior laser editions. One would have thought that Warner Bros., United Artists, and MGM/UA -- the various distributors who controlled the movie at different times over the past seven decades -- would have taken an interest in preserving this movie, one of the top moneymakers of the 1930s. Until this DVD release, however, that would have been impossible to prove; even the laserdisc of 42nd Street, which came courtesy of Turner Entertainment, had flaws in its source. This disc, on the other hand, genuinely looks as good as the movie must have in 1933. Every thread, every shadow, even the textures of the walls behind the actors in the close-ups, and the smoke from Julian Marsh's cigarette in the wide shots of the rehearsal scenes, are perfect. The only flaws that seem obvious are a handful of missing frames around 64 minutes in, and a slight image jitter 71 minutes into the movie, none of which lasted for much more than a second. The perfect transfer wouldn't be a huge deal, but it's care on this level that makes the movie such a joy. Today, 42nd Street seems filled with cliches, but those elements were fresh and new when the movie came out. Equally important to the movie's success, director Lloyd Bacon and choreographer Busby Berkeley got the camera moving again, in terms that were particularly suited to the musical, and the visual lyricism of the movie, even in the non-musical sequences, remains one of its most beguiling traits -- the end result is a movie that's almost as bracing and exciting to watch today as it was 68 years ago. The movie has been augmented with the presence of a trio of Vitaphone shorts, of which "Harry Warren: America's Foremost Composer" is the most relevant to the main feature. This ten-minute short, a celebration of the songwriter (who is seen at the piano) and his work, is photographed nearly as beautifully as the Warner Bros. features of the day, and it's as pretty to look at as 42nd Street, even if it doesn't have Busby Berkeley's elaborate choreography. The other two Vitaphone shorts don't focus on 42nd Street, but offer entertaining behind-the-scenes glimpses at the movie business, with an inordinate amount of screen time given to Hugh Herbert, as well as little vignettes involving Jean Muir, Warren William, Pat O'Brien, Ann Dvorak, James Cagney, Dolores Del Rio, et al., as well as composers Irving Kahal and Sammy Fain. As a final bonus, viewers get the original trailer, which tries to build up some genuine excitement about the movie, and places a heavy emphasis on Berkeley, showing that Warner Bros. understood full well what it had in its hands. The menu opens on start-up, and is very easy to use, with the special feature selector advancing automatically with each supplement's play.