Such are the title-song lyrics to this 1933 frolic, directed by Raoul Walsh to be modest in story but long on atmosphere. Made at 20th, it has something of an MGM cast: Wallace Beery and Jackie Cooper had been such a hit in "The Champ" two years earlier, the studio must have been anxious to reteam them. Cooper was a good little actor, but here, as.an unsympathetic little ruffian in the Lower East Side of the Gay '90s, he's just marking time, and Beery, whom practically everybody who ever worked with him appears to have loathed, tries and fails to be a charmer. The story's that of Steve Brodie and his alleged jump off the Brooklyn Bridge (it was also the basis for "Kelly," a one-night 1965 musical that was, up till then, the biggest money-loser in Broadway history); it's not much of a story, but it does allow for some lively set pieces, and George Raft, as Brodie, has a part that suits him well. There's also Fay Wray, who's warm and appealing, and Pert Kelton, expertly knocking out one of the sassy broads she did so well back then. Marred by phony-looking process shots and plot implausibilities and non-clear things (I'm still not sure, did they throw a dummy off the bridge or not?), and off-the-charts non-PC by today's standards, it's nevertheless rollicking, and you can be sure that under Walsh's watch you'll get hard-hitting fights, atmosphere galore, rude insult humor, and a setting where, like the song goes, they do strange things.
Review of The Bowery
