150 Word Review: 'Gypsy' (1962)
Ya either got it, or ya ain't
I can’t believe this is my first time watching Gypsy. I thought it would be happier! Brighter! Razzmatazz-ier! It is basically Death of a Salesman in heels, a cynical, snazzy, mid-century cautionary tale about crushed ambition and capitalism, loosely based on the memoir of burlesque performer Gypsy Rose Lee.
Rosalind Russel is Mama Rose, a single-minded stage mother-slash-monster determined to make at least one of her daughters a vaudeville star. Natalie Wood plays her oldest, a tomboy who doesn’t have her younger sister Shirley Temple’s talents. Karl Malden, one of the greatest schnozzes in cinema, is Herbie, another showbiz bottom-feeder. He made the mistake of falling for Rose (there were many before him). The songs are catchy, deceptively corny, with music by Jule Styne and sharp lyrics by 28-year-old Stephen Sondheim.
Mervyn LeRoy directs Gypsy with Old Hollywood get-up-and-go, but that last brassy number is a defiant, self-pitying war cry.