REET, PETITE, AND GONE (1947)

Band leader Louis Jarvis is called away from his hit radio show to see his dying father Schyler. Also called for a final visit is Honey Carter, the daughter of the late singer Lovey Linn. In a flashback, we see that Schyler discovered Lovey in New Orleans and brought her to New York City to sing in a show with him. They fell in love but Lovey's mother married her off to a wealthy man named Carter. To his dying day, Schyler never forgot Lovey, and he wants her daughter to marry his son. His somewhat convoluted way of accomplishing this is to make a will that insists that, to get Schyler's money, Louis must marry a woman of particular measurements, those of Honey, and do it in four weeks. Schyler dies before Louis or Honey get to see him, and his conniving lawyer Talbot secretly changes the measurements in the will to those of his secretary Rusty, and he works it out so if Louis fails to marry the woman, the money defaults to Talbot. Louis thinks the whole thing is crazy, and he's not at all interested in Rusty, but he needs an infusion of money for a show he's about to put on, so in the process of holding auditions for a leading lady, he agrees to have all the women measured. Honey shows up and, though she doesn't measure up, she and Lous hit it off. At the end of the four weeks, Schyler's valet shows up with a secret letter given to him by Schyler that might just make everything right. 

That’s a lot of plot for a 67-minute Poverty Row movie in which the first eight minutes consist of songs, and another 25 minutes or so of songs are presented before the end. Well known swing bandleader Louis Jordan (pictured, who is in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as an early influencer) plays both Louis and Schyler and, let's just say that there's a reason he never took another dramatic part in a movie. Honestly, however, few of the actors here are really "actors," and many never made any other films. June Richmond, who plays Honey's pal June, was better known for singing with Jimmy Dorsey's band and sustained a solid career as a jazz singer in Europe. She's also better than everyone else here. They all seem pretty amateurish, but she's enthusiastic and probably could have forged an acting career if she'd been interested, or, more to the point, if she could have gotten any roles. This is what was called a "race film" with an all-Black cast. The only cast member with a substantial career was Lorenzo Tucker (Talbot). The music is the main reason for the film's existence; some of it is fine, some is dated, but the dancing is strictly amateur all the way. During "Let the Good Times Roll," performed with Jordan's band the Tympany Five, Jordan refers to himself as "Mr. Jordan" rather than "Mr. Jarvis." The plot point about the female measurements just felt mind-numbingly dumb to me—it never even comes off as racy or funny. Good viewing as a novelty. [TCM]