This superb film is a spectacular presentiment of the evil already brewing in 1935; encompassing the relationship between capitalism and the great economic depression soon to culminate in the eruption of World War II, five short years later; and the silliness and inanity of the gold digging frivolity with which it was being preceded. It is only with the wisdom of the hindsight of multiple decades that Berkeley's instinctive perceptions of the evil to come can be fully appreciated. The unsurpassed climactic finale is both a reflection of the rise of fascism, and an anticipation of the catastrophe which would ultimately unwind. It's high art, besides the uniquely impressive musical numbers. The much derided plot is actually highly witty, and there is plenty of well-delivered, humorous dialogue. I found it funny, as well as disturbing. It should be understood as a satiric comment on the times, similar to the Berlin atmosphere later depicted in Cabaret. "Stop chewing on my fingers", says the deluded matron.

"Gold Diggers of 1935" is golden age Hollywood at its over-the-top best. Busby Berkley, the undisputed master of epic song and dance numbers, pulls out all the stops to enchant his depression era audience with escapist fantasies including dancing grand pianos and a surreal Broadway 'day in the life' (to the Academy Award winning song "Lullaby of Broadway"). The humour and acting style are a bit dated and the plot chiffon-light, but everything serves simply to set up the musical numbers, which are superb. All in all: a great film from a different time. Enjoy!

This is the story of extravagantly rich people, mostly fools, on vacation at an upscale resort in New Hampshire who put on a show for "the milk fund." There are enough problems to make you tear your hair out. Mrs. Prentice's dividend has been reduced from sixty cents to only forty cents on her six million shares. And this is 1935.It's pretty silly, although it has some decent built-in amusement. Sometimes it's strident. People shout at one another, arguing over who gets one third of the half of the fourth third's insurance that they are conning out of poor Mrs. Prentice.Dick Powell, Warner's resident juvenile crooner, gets to sing three songs (by Al Dubin and Harry Warren) to Gloria Stuart, the most nearly memorable being the climactic "Lullaby of Broadway".It's pleasant-enough nonsense and Busby Berkeley's direction moves forward with the speed of an express but, to tell the truth, it's not really vulgar enough for my taste. True, there is the "Song of Love" number with a thousand blonds dressed in white gowns seated at a thousand white grand pianos, and the pianos (and the girls) begin to move sinuously and form sine curves and double helices and whatnot. And, pretty soon, the girls stand up and swirl slowly around, flouncing their flounces, while the thousand pianos began to do a slow ensemble routine by themselves. Now -- I'll bet you didn't know that a couple of dozen pianos, in grand piano shape, curved where they should be curved, when fitted properly together will form a perfect square on which a young lady can dance. You did? I didn't.The "Lullaby of Broadway" number, it can be said, is at least a bit less decorous. More dancers are involved -- men and women both -- and they pound the floor with greater energy. Not satisfied with a full brigade of dancers seen from balcony height, Berkeley shows us a pair of shoes from BELOW, slamming and scooping on a transparent floor. That's nice. At least in one shot, when the dancers thump in rhythm, you can actually see the floor beneath resonate slightly, which is why no Army commander will march his unit across a bridge in anything but what's called "route step." I just threw that in for the heck of it.But I didn't see any overhead shots of a thousand scantily dressed girls unfolding into flowers or forming a pattern resembling the face of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. And nothing from underwater, nothing that even approaches the obscene. A grave disappointment.Still, it's distracting, and you get to identify with people in evening dress who complain about the character of the vintage champagne.

Two words: Busby Berkeley (BB). If you know anything about movies or dancing (or even direction) you've heard the name and this movie (& others like it) is the reason why. BB's genius is that he "got it.". He understood that film was capable of so much more than being a newsreel or just capturing what you can see on a stage. It's more than an amusement but can be used to actually stimulate surrealistic thought. What Picasso did with color BB did with a palette of black, white & gray. Not only stimulating and simulating surreal dreams, but giving them an uneasy feeling, keeping the dark, sharp edge on the lust others only sought to elicit but never examine. As if to say "Images direct thought & these are the thoughts you're leaning towards...Is this the way for you?", Rod Serling's "sign post up ahead" years out of time. There is (strangely) humor, some rather awful singing, and some other fluff around the Berkeley numbers. But they serve only as a frame. BB's work hits you in the eye & travels to your brain as it has for millions to mimic & mock since then. And it alone makes this movie worth watching.