Word: maes
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...other assorted lecheries are shown in all their nakedness on the screen, gotten past the censors by a thin veneer of hypocritical "educational" advice to young girls and harassed mothers. The public, needless to say, is always disappointed, and might better get its vicarious sexual satisfaction from a Mae West opus; but the suckers continue to pack the theatres, and the producers continue to reap a golden harvest...
...been added. The gags in the picture have apparently been ground out by some studio back with a memory stopping at the year 1918, and with a bad case of the jitters; the music, if you care to call it such, is not bawdy enough to do the lovable Mae justice, and there is not enough of it. The plot is jerky, patchy, and long miles from the empyrean ether of originality. In short, the production has its faults...
...students of the Urdu verb forms will enjoy hearing her sing "I've found a new way to go to town," and lechery, after all, is always to the point. An excellent shot, which seems to give promise that the old girl can act, is that in which Mae shows her presents to a friend; you will see what I mean when you hear her say, "It's real jade ... he said," in a tone of trusting naivete which touches the heights. On the other hand, the scenes which attempt to portray some queer form of true love, suddenly burgeoning...
...American public wants to be amused 365 nights per year and, since there are not sufficient Mae Wests etc. to go around there must be a vast mass (or mess if you prefer) of plain movies. They tell a simple story: they point a simple moral; in short they provide an evening of passive satisfaction, of delicious mental abnegation. The box office receipts on these movies provide a vivid guide to the producer as to just what will satisfy the public at any given moment. What one finds in these productions gives an extraordinarily interesting and, I think, significant indication...
Honky tonks have been treated so exhaustively in the cinema since The Barker that the first squeak of a calliope now sounds like a warning signal of boredom to come. Even a blatant performance by Actress Bow, in the manner of a juvenile Mae West, and an ending which shows her wriggling in the midway of a Century of Progress, fail to prevent Hoopla from seeming obsolete...