Stage Door Canteen is a fairly fascinating parade of famous faces and wartime attitudes. The USO zaniness of 1941 is no joke; the consistently attractive girls here are all doing their bit by spending time with soldiers bound for overseas.

The innocence of Delmer Daves' screenplay borders on the ludicrous. To a man, the soldiers are all boyish, naive, lovable and noble at heart. The hostesses are all patriotic lasses who assume the 'duty' of being handholding faux-romance dream girls, feigning interest in the GIs as a 'comfort' before they go overseas. The attitudes are downright weird. The boys can do no wrong, even when they make bold innuendos; the girls are ordered up by specs ("I want a blonde, 5'3"!") and have little identity except as generic 'girls.' There are no wallflowers, only luscious babes (the women are clearly the best starlets Hollywood has to offer) and the key guys are cute types mother would love, like Lon McCallister, a veritable cherub noted for playing page boys and jockeys. The most attention goes to beauty Cheryl Walker, a former Rose Bowl queen, she later became a supporter of anti-Communist causes. Much is made of the rule that the girls can't date the boys outside of the club (what an extra frustration should any real romances be kindled), yet the way the female flesh is dished up for 'the boys' the Canteen seems to operate like a strangely neutered brothel. Hopefully boys at real USO clubs had a better time.

If that's all there was to Stage Door Canteen, this review would be over, because nothing much of interest happens except that kindly officer Jean Louis Heydt keeps giving the guys renewed 24 hour passes to go see their girls again. The only tension Daves can offer in this variety show is to criticize the leading lady for wanting to use the Canteen for selfish career purposes. She gets a stage role with Paul Muni anyway.

As a star-watching exercise, Stage Door Canteen is terrific. The long list of names above are fun to look out for, and everybody is so young-looking!

In this fantasy, the canteen is staffed and operated by the biggest stars in New York. Katharine Cornell does a bit of Romeo and Juliet with a soldier, and the Lunts wash dishes. Everyone on the lists above gets at least a walkthrough, naturally maintaining the notion that their screen and stage personae are their real selves. For instance, Ed Wynn does his silly clown routine as if he really was that person. Many stars like Tallulah Bankhead and Katharine Hepburn act like big sisters to the aspiring starlets who actually dance with the boys; Hepburn's given the main 'we're doing it for them' speech to the despondent Walker (pictured on the cover above). Younger maidens like luscious Virginia Grey have walk-ons greeting the soldiers.

We're shown a supposed Broadway producer bussing a table (yeah, sure) and lots of character actors waiting tables and washing dishes. These range from odd (Ned Sparks ogling Gypsy Rose Lee's chaste non-strip strip number) to chummy (William Demarest) to weird (Otto Kruger tries to swipe some coffee because he lost his ration book). Most of the VIPs are identified ("Hey that's Judith Anderson!") but some smaller players we have to guess at, like an incredibly young Jack Lambert in a bit as a sailor. He became a frequent baddie in westerns and crime pix like Kiss Me Deadly; he can't be 20 here but his famous ugly mug is instantly recognizable.

Producer Sol Lesser released this rah-rah programmer through United Artists, and I'd like to know how the show was put together. Few talents corralled by major studios appear; I'm assuming the likes of Kate Hepburn were free agents. Was the film for profit? I'm sure these stars weren't all paid as the show is put together like a celebrity telethon.

The big music acts must have been Lesser's crowning achievement. Kay Kyser, Benny Goodman, Count Basie and the rest were just as popular or more popular than the stars, and we get several extended performances with their equally well-known singers. Ethel Waters (so thin!) does a nice song with Count Basie, and the captivating Lina Romay with Xavier Cugat is always worth the price of admission. Even more surprising is seeing an incredibly young Peggy Lee belt out a blues song in her silky smooth style, with an ultracool that wouldn't become the style until after the war.

Some of the acts drag; kulture sneaks in with Yehudi Menuhuin playing Brahms and a woman singing The Lord's Prayer (reeeach for that remote). The same woman's first song is a savage bit of jingoism about shooting down Japs, rat tat tat tat! It's met with big approval but plays much differently now.

Favorite surprise moment (aside from Peggy Lee) is a dishwashing gag where Johnny Weissmuller removes his shirt ('boy, it's hot'). Co-washer Franklin Pangborn, fully into his limp-wristed pansy act, remarks at Mr. Tarzan's muscular chest. Pretty weird.

Critics' Choice's DVD of Stage Door Canteen is no winner in the quality stakes; without seeing it it's unfair to judge, but I'll bet the Image disc is better (it only came out last March, and Savant didn't think to request it). This is really no better than VHS quality taped from television, and therefore you'd be better off waiting for a screening on TCM. The last reel looked a frame or two out of synch as well. But the show only has a few splices and is mostly intact, unlike an earlier Critics' Choice show that was so bad Savant couldn't watch it. Critics' Choice reinvents the definition of plain-wrap: no extras, no trailer, no scene selections, no nothing.

On a scale of Excellent, Good, Fair, and Poor, Stage Door Canteen rates:
Movie: Good
Video: Fair -
Sound: Fair
Supplements: none
Packaging: Keep case
Reviewed: November 3, 2003