There are problems with this big-budget Arthur Freed production, directed by Rouben Mamoulian. It's a musical adaptation of Eugene O'Neill's play, Ah, Wilderness!, which was first filmed by director Clarence Brown in 1935.
There's a good cast. You can't find much fault with people like Selena Royle, Agnes Moorehead, Frank Morgan, etc. But for a big MGM musical, Summer Holiday is underpopulated with song-and-dance talent. Marilyn Maxwell and Gloria DeHaven are real singers. Rooney, in the lead, is not. Huston (who had a hit record of September Song), has a few good musical minutes, but at least one of his songs was cut. And anyway, you can't expect Walter Huston to carry the male singing chores in a screen musical.
Mickey did star in musicals before this. But he probably shouldn't have been expected to carry this kind of film. He was a huge talent, but as a musical lead, he was a different type, a showman (as he proved in the hit Broadway show, Sugar Babies, years later). He wasn't a song and dance man, like Donald O'Connor. You don't find yourself eagerly awaiting his next vocal or dance number.
As for his being too old, he is. But even when he was a lot younger, he just wasn't really the type to pull off this naive, bumptious character. He's a good actor, he tries, and he does well, overall. It's just that I didn't buy it and you probably won't, either.
The songs are good, but they don't have a lot of zing. They're pleasant. The numbers themselves are sometimes truncated. The cuts are rather obvious, at times.
The thing I enjoyed most was the recreation of various American paintings (like Grant Wood's American Gothic) in one sequence. It was both charming and satirical.
By the way, I don't know if anyone else noticed, but director Rouben Mamoulian chose to have the costumes and sets done almost entirely in whites, light grays, tans, and other soft, neutral tones. I'm guessing this was in order to contrast with the film's colorful Omar Kiam fantasy sequence.
But the sequence was cut, resulting in a colorless, drab-looking Technicolor film. Only the scene with Marilyn Maxwell, whose costume becomes more flamboyant the more drunk Mickey Rooney gets, remains as a contrast to all that colorlessness.
Mamoulian was clearly a man of talent, and his cast and technical crew were the finest the studio could provide, so it's a shame to report this film was less than the sum of its parts.
