I just watched Whoopee! on an excellent laserdisc print, and my nostalgia conceit was fed yet again. The world seemed happier and lazier, the chorus girls sweeter and prettier, the tunes bouncier and brighter. Viewers' comments about Eddie Cantor prancing in blackface miss the point: it is not racism that is projected, but a society in which racism is meaningless. My conceit, of course, is absurd; there are no "good old days", and it was no bed of roses to be an average Joe or Jane in 1930 when Whoopee! was made. But movies like these are my escape to Happyland, and while a steady diet of the same would be cloying, a dip into an old musical guarantees me a dreamy uplift.
