This Movie Can Only Be Described With One Word.

Plot so thin, it passes unnoticed.

After playing with our expectations, this turns out to be a very different sort of film.

The thing I enjoyed most about the film is the fact that it doesn't shy away from being a super-sized-cliche;

In 1945, rising prosperity and war's end were sending Americans to the movies in record numbers. As a result, Hollywood underwent a growing demand for what they would call "product". That's likely why career second banana (The Jack Benny Show) Phil Harris got the lead in this minor Columbia musical, along with the more seasoned Eddie "Rochester" Anderson, also from the Benny show. Together, they bring a lot of bounce and style to a string of undistinguished musical numbers.Harris is no singer, but he does talk a good tune, especially his signature rendition of "That's What I like About the South". Brooks nicely warbles, or at least lip-synchs, a couple of forgettable numbers, while Anderson entertains humorously as Newton B. Newton, bodyguard and agent extraordinaire. And that's about it, except for the slender plot, which unfortunately becomes too heavy during the last third, bringing down the former verve and uplift. In fact, this may be the only movie musical, major or minor, not to end the proceedings with a bang-up production number. Oddly, the ending is more like the producers suddenly ran out of film or script or something. In passing-- James Burke was a familiar face from that era, usually as a cop or slightly dense official of some type. Here he plays Charles Gibley, owner of the nightclub. Watch him tilt back his head and deliver a withering squinty-eyed stare at any and all who are trying to hustle him. It's really a priceless bit of business. There were many of these distinctive "types" like Burke who performed unforgettably over the years, but whose names were generally unknown and their passings generally unnoticed. God bless them all.

This is an obscure time filler from Columbia Pictures. Obviously lots of musical numbers, and they're not bad. But it's too bad that Phil Harris is the star. Not that he's awful or unlikeable, it's simply that he's too light and uninteresting a performer to carry a picture. Harris was leading his own band at the time and he's fine in that function, and in being a second banana to the antics of Jack Benny on radio, but his starring in a film is equivalent to seeing Carson bandleaders Tommy Newsome or Doc Severinson trying to be leading men.The stale amnesia angle doesn't help either, but there it is. Harris and his assistant Eddie "Rochester" Anderson are painters doing a job at a nightclub. Harris tries to help in his small way with struggling singer Leslie Brooks, and clumsily falls on his head in the process and takes the ol' amnesia route. By circumstance and guesswork he's made to believe he's actually a bandleader. Oddly enough, he's got an innate talent for it and becomes a success -- and Anderson, even though he knows Harris is really a painter, attaches himself as a Man Friday in order to ride along on Harris' bandleader success. Brooks plays an angle as well, but falls in love with him in the process. There's a few more contrivances, a few more musical numbers, and a predictable finish. There's also a quick joke where Harris as his screen character makes fun of the real Harris as a bandleader. Actually, the only reason to watch this film is to catch the always pleasing Eddie Anderson. Obviously his race kept him from being the star of this movie, and that's too bad because he's the only one of Jack Benny's cast members who could carry a film -- and he certainly could have carried this one. Instead it's Harris who fills the screen (almost literally considering his bulk). Nonetheless, it's a pleasant little movie that's easy on the brain... but hard to see considering its virtual unavailability.

This is a very pleasant little B movie from Columbia. The plot is that Phil Harris, a house painter in partnership in with Eddie 'Rochester' Anderson, comes down with amnesia and becomes a band leader, getting wealth and the girl in the process. In this they are ably abetted by old hand Del Lord in the director's chair and the inimitable Walter Catlett in his usual seedy hustler mode. Mr. Harris sings a couple of his hits. Rochester, as always, steals the show.While this movie led no place in particular for anyone's career -- Harris and Rochester went back to radio, Del Lord back to the shorts department and the rest of the cast went on doing whatever it was they did, there are a lot worse movies out there taking up more of your time for less effect.

I was very impressed with movie, I Love A Bandleader. I recently bought copy & shared it with my family. My interest in movie was sparked when I read an article about my great aunt (my father's mother's sister), who was a musician. She was a member of female quartet(The Four Vees)that was featured in audition segment of movie. It turns out that Aunt Mata, who was a pianist, was not the musician on keyboard in film (much to my dismay). My family has a copy of a promo studio photo of The Four Vees, showing my great aunt & other three musicians that were in movie. I'd like to know if there's a way for me to send copy of photo to attach to the group's name. Thanks M.A.