Coney Island: Nostalgia and Hot Dogs with a Side of Melodrama

Alright, so Coney Island (I’m talking about the 1943 one, not some weird doc or remake) – that was one of those oldies my mormor made me watch once when she was feeling extra sentimental. It’s directed by Walter Lang – he did more shiny musicals later, but you can already spot his love for the crowd-pleasing stuff here. And Eddie Cantor! Man, that guy – always grinning, always getting out of trouble like a Swedish politician in the 90s. Sort of has a “can’t take your eyes off this mupp” energy, huh? Betty Grable’s there too, legs and all. They said in the old fan mags her legs were insured for one million dollars! In today’s krona that’s a mind-boggler.

I’m torn about this film, really. On one hand, it’s like popping into Gröna Lund in June: colors, music, folks on beaches, and that chaos you can smell just before the storm hits. Randy, funny, heaps of songs nobody really remembers. But, maybe that’s the charm? You know the story, more or less. Love triangles, misunderstandings, people singing in sequins during prohibition. Can get a bit much after a while, like eating three too many kanelbullar – sweet at first, sickly by the end.

One time, when I was about 15, we pitched an old army tent at Varamon beach and tried to recreate the movie’s wild fairground scenes. Only, instead of showgirls we had a barking dog and my mate Jocke doing the Charleston in muddy shorts. Didn’t quite capture the Grable magic but hey, the spirit was there.

If you want to escape a grey Tuesday, stick it on. Or if you miss real old-school razzmatazz and don’t care much for subtlety. Otherwise, maybe just go for a walk and hum a few tunes.

watch the full movie on Mavshack Movies on YouTube

please note that there may be geographical blocking implemented.