Bathtubs Over Broadway movie review (2019)

There’s no question “Bathtubs Over Broadway” could’ve been a much more scathing film, in light of how these corporations made a mockery of an art form, rendering the hard work of its hired visionaries as disposable novelties. Songwriter Hank Beebe recalls the heartache he felt while listening to his own songs from his perch in the crowd, knowing fully well it would be the only time he would hear them with an audience. Yet just as Christopher Guest paid loving homage to the cheesy yet endearing genre of folk music in “A Mighty Wind,” Young, Whisenant and co-writer Ozzy Inguanzo approach their material from an angle of genuine affection. Young’s excitement is infectious when conversing with fellow collectors like Jonathan Ward, who share his appetite for such bizarre titles as the Johnson & Johnson Sunscreen Musical of 1978. 

Perhaps the comedy writer can relate to how these artists were forced to churn out songs so fast that they, as he notes, “didn’t have the luxury to asses what they were doing.” He makes a convincing argument that many of these numbers could’ve become bonafide hits, had certain lyrics been swapped for less mundane topics. Thanks to some internet sleuthing, Young managed to locate Siegel at his home in Buffalo Grove, Illinois, before his passing in 2015, and ended up speaking at his memorial service. The filmmakers’ desire to champion the unheralded ingenuity of these talents leads to the film’s emotional highpoint, when Gjonola sings “My Bathroom”—the song she and her husband had chosen to accompany their first dance as man and wife—for an enthused crowd at Chicago’s Music Box Theatre. The ovation she receives leaves her feeling not only deeply moved, but acknowledged, a gift all creators should have the opportunity to experience.

In essence, industrial musicals now serve the same purpose as the educational movies screened by the “Mystery Science Theater 3000” crew, not least of all “Mr. B Natural.” Together, they form a portrait of the optimism that had once characterized America, fueled by a thriving middle class reliant on jobs that sustained them for life. Whisenant echoes Michael Moore’s “Roger & Me” by utilizing footage of citizens dressed as spark plugs parading through Flint, Michigan in the era when its General Motors plant supported the surrounding community. Five-time Tony-winner Susan Stroman points out that these corporate shows, however silly, provided reliable employment as well as valuable experience for directors and choreographers starting out in New York City. One sequence she oversaw involved a dance between giant beer cans, and when they accidentally collided into each other, Stroman found the sight so funny that she incorporated it into the choreography. The noble service provided by industrial musicals to instruct managers on how to better treat employees is upheld by Beebe, whose own mother never expressed pride in his work, believing it all to be just “a bunch of commercials.”

ncG1vNJzZmivp6x7s7vGnqmempWnwW%2BvzqZmq52mnrK4v46bmK2gpKqvtHnOr5yrZZKnvKKw1pqwZmpgZoY%3D