ae Martin (Adele Jergens) is generally overprotective of her daughter Peggy (Marilyn Monroe), who doesn’t get to experience the typical, glamorous lifestyle of a chorus girl. It’s probably for the better, however, as bad-influence, matriarchal, lead crooner Bubbles wants to set up the young woman with a middle-aged stranger on a blind date. “There you go, judging people.” When a scuffle breaks out after insults are thrown around between Mae and Bubbles, the senior star walks out of the production, leaving Mae to take her spot. But behind the stage manager’s back, she prompts Peggy to do the number instead, which turns out to be a hit.

From here, the bulk of the film is the stage show itself; the majority of the runtime is dedicated to singing and dancing chorus girls (and comic routines), with Monroe performing a series of songs, demonstrating an unusual star power in her first leading (or co-leading) role – long before her signature, exaggeratedly wispy voice and prominent beauty mark. And she’s rather electrifying, which is somewhat unexpected for such a minimal, uninspired production. The remaining supplementary burlesque elements are lightly amusing, including an impressive tap routine by Jergens, but they’re far from top-quality, big-budget arrangements.

“I’m tired of being treated like a child!” At other times, the premise dwells on the mother/daughter relationship (Monroe was only around 8 years younger than Jergens, lending to the unconvincing visuals of this combo), which becomes a touch strained as the younger woman grows into the queen of the theater, outshining her elder. This leads, of course, to some mild bitterness and concerns about falling in with the wrong crowd or being abandoned – especially after Peggy officially meets her secret admirer, Randy Carroll (Rand Brooks), who spends a good deal of money sending orchids to commemorate every performance. It’s awfully convenient that he’s wealthy and attractive, with good intentions, which make the match far less objectionable. But this presents its own hurdles, since Peggy is of a lower social status, which will surely invite familial criticism and displeasure – and a repeating of history, as Mae’s own husband is conspicuously absent. “Oil and water don’t mix.”

This swift, simple musical, particularly with its bland script (which forces too many flat interactions that waste precious minutes; there’s even an engagement party band gig that is far removed from the chorus girl orchestrations), wasn’t enough of a vehicle to really propel Monroe toward stardom (Columbia canceled her contract after the film’s release), but it’s still a curious historical chapter in the icon’s career, especially considering that her following jobs (ignoring the next couple of virtually uncredited bit parts in “Love Happy” and “A Ticket to Tomahawk”) in “The Asphalt Jungle” and “All About Eve” were as mere supporting personas. Nevertheless, since they were bigger, better-received productions, her involvements were amplified to the public. Yet it’s clear even in this 1948/’49 release that she’s comfortable in the limelight, playing well against Jergens’ sweetly cautious voice of reason. The finale, quite expectedly, features the inevitable clash and reveal of Peggy’s position against the Carrolls’ upper-crust cohorts, but it’s agreeably progressive in its perspective – the only outcome, of course, for a traditional happy Hollywood ending.

– Mike Massie