If you can overlook six minutes of jingoistic junk (a patriotic medley meant to rouse wartime audiences into buying war bonds), you will witness one of the very finest musicals ever to come out of Hollywood. It is, first of all, uncommonly handsome, vivid in period detail and expertly shot by James Wong Howe. Its screenplay has unusual snap and is directed by Curtiz as if he were trying to preserve film (which he probably was) -- the pace is as furious as early Capra or Hawks. All right, it makes Cohan out to be a much nicer man than he was, and it skates over less pleasant aspects of his life -- a terrible first marriage, tightfistedness, his low regard for fellow actors. But what do you want, documentary or entertainment?
But the film's raison d'etre is, of course, Cagney, and his Oscar for it is one of the most deserved ever given. He's so magnetic, so expressive, a dynamic actor, an irresistible hoofer. Even though the movie is off the Warners assembly line, he gives it individuality and even more vitality than this very energetic studio usually supplied. It was a big, big hit, and except for the occasional wartime excess, it holds up beautifully.
But the film's raison d'etre is, of course, Cagney, and his Oscar for it is one of the most deserved ever given. He's so magnetic, so expressive, a dynamic actor, an irresistible hoofer. Even though the movie is off the Warners assembly line, he gives it individuality and even more vitality than this very energetic studio usually supplied. It was a big, big hit, and except for the occasional wartime excess, it holds up beautifully.