Ex-serviceman, posing as an insurance salesman but actually working for a racketeer, allows a pretty but romantically-aloof waitress to talk him into taking the drummer's gig at the jazz club where she works; naturally, he thinks this means she loves him, but she's got eyes for his dapper former boss. "The Strip"--as in Hollywood's famous Sunset Strip--is, if nothing else, a flashback to Los Angeles in 1951, when wealthy mobsters ruled the underworld and nightclubs were packed with patrons just waiting for a hot drum solo. If it weren't for Joe Pasternak's production and Robert Surtees' cinematography, this MGM effort would easily pass for a b-movie. The script and characters are too thin to support the framing story about a shooting, while Mickey Rooney's hyper lead performance verges on camp. Rooney, playing a musician so clean-cut he actually leaves the lucrative 'dark side' for a life of hoped-for domesticity, is unconvincingly unfettered by drugs or booze--his vice is romance! The movie has no connection with reality, though the soloists (including Louis Armstrong and Vic Damone) are enjoyable. ** from ****
Review of The Strip
