As I've said before and will no doubt say again moviegoers were were easily satisfied in the thirties as this hotch potch illustrates to a fare-thee-well. Bing Crosby as a seasoned rodeo competitor is about as convincing as Fred Astaire playing a coal miner and with that as a premise all that is lacking is a pair of red shoes, a yellow brick road and a talking scarecrow. The runaway heiress plot makes an early appearance and is pursued half-heartedly for three or four reels. Martha Raye makes her debut and blends in to the story the way Tarzan blends into Snow White And The Seven Dwarfs. In between there are songs, all placed perfectly - like Empty Saddles at Madison Square Garden or the sophisticated 'Eastern' references of I'm An Old Cowhand From The Rio Grande at an Arizona camp fire. Apart from reservations like these this is a pleasant enough curio.
Review of Rhythm on the Range
