Howard Hughes's line up of acts is basically his way of responding to the other studios' efforts to do the same thing. There are echoes of the Garland/Rooney cycle of musicals from MGM, with a spice of Fox glitz and the good ol' feelin' of well-being from Warners' Doris Day vehicles of a similar period.
The only snag is that Hughes did really have any big stars on his payroll. What TWO TICKETS TO Broadway presents is a panoply of would-be leading lights, youngsters on their way to stardom, and imitations of more famous originals such as Bob Crosby who does a specialty number with a cardboard cutout of his more illustrious sibling Bing.
Having said that, some of the cast give winning turns. The triumvirate of Janet Leigh, Ann Miller and Gloria DeHaven adumbrate a similar conception in Fox's GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES (1953); and they acquit themselves thoroughly well in the song and dance sequences, with Miller getting the chance to show off her famed legs. Tony Martin croons his way through one or two numbers, to the delights of hordes of adoring bobbysoxers. Eddie Bracken camps it up in a largely extraneous comedy role.
Yet perhaps the most interesting aspect of James V. Kern's all-star line-up is its inherent structural contradiction that tells us a lot about the contradictions of movie capitalism at the time. The film begins in Garland/ Rooney fashion by suggesting that, given time and talent, anyone can make it big so long as they have the drive and energy to do so, even if they originate from small-town and America and have to travel to New York by Greyhound bus. This is precisely what Leigh, DeHaven and Miller try to do.
Yet once they get there, they find that they are very much at the agents' and radio program-makers' mercy. They have to alter their work to suit specific formats, and compromise at every opportunity in line with their employers' requirements. We wonder at this point whether Broadway - like Hollywood - actually values originality, or whether or not both institutions would be much happier with carbon copies of tried and tested formulas.
The film does not attempt to answer the question, of course (why should it, when it was planned as a joyful musical), but it reveals an undercurrent of cynicism about the potentially adverse effects of money-making and success.
The only snag is that Hughes did really have any big stars on his payroll. What TWO TICKETS TO Broadway presents is a panoply of would-be leading lights, youngsters on their way to stardom, and imitations of more famous originals such as Bob Crosby who does a specialty number with a cardboard cutout of his more illustrious sibling Bing.
Having said that, some of the cast give winning turns. The triumvirate of Janet Leigh, Ann Miller and Gloria DeHaven adumbrate a similar conception in Fox's GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES (1953); and they acquit themselves thoroughly well in the song and dance sequences, with Miller getting the chance to show off her famed legs. Tony Martin croons his way through one or two numbers, to the delights of hordes of adoring bobbysoxers. Eddie Bracken camps it up in a largely extraneous comedy role.
Yet perhaps the most interesting aspect of James V. Kern's all-star line-up is its inherent structural contradiction that tells us a lot about the contradictions of movie capitalism at the time. The film begins in Garland/ Rooney fashion by suggesting that, given time and talent, anyone can make it big so long as they have the drive and energy to do so, even if they originate from small-town and America and have to travel to New York by Greyhound bus. This is precisely what Leigh, DeHaven and Miller try to do.
Yet once they get there, they find that they are very much at the agents' and radio program-makers' mercy. They have to alter their work to suit specific formats, and compromise at every opportunity in line with their employers' requirements. We wonder at this point whether Broadway - like Hollywood - actually values originality, or whether or not both institutions would be much happier with carbon copies of tried and tested formulas.
The film does not attempt to answer the question, of course (why should it, when it was planned as a joyful musical), but it reveals an undercurrent of cynicism about the potentially adverse effects of money-making and success.