by Trevor Sheffield The documentary is a genre that has fairly limitless potential when it comes to subject matter. Whether it’s tackling the life of a single person or attempting to inform the masses of something immensely important (that wouldn’t otherwise land in another medium), documentaries are no stranger to the film landscape. However, a film recently released uses the format to introduce audiences to something they may have never heard of before in their lives: musicals that are semi-literal commercials. Bathtubs Over Broadway (released in 2018 and directed/co-written/co-produced by Dava Whisenant) follows the story of Steve Young, a (now-former) comedy writer for David Letterman, and his quest for knowledge on the subject of corporate musicals after unintentionally stumbling upon an album for “The Bathrooms are Coming!,” a musical meant to sell bathroom fixtures to investors and salesman, never to be seen by public eyes. Young finds himself going down the rabbit hole as he does so, armed with a massive collection of industrial albums, and ultimately learns a thing or two about himself and his obsession that doesn’t involve selling Deere tractors along the way. From a sheer production perspective, Bathtubs hits all the right notes. While it does tend to follow more traditional documentary tropes in terms of cinematography, the film never hangs on an angle long enough for it to go stale. In turn, the film’s editing is swift and succinct, letting the moments that do need to hang do so, as well as keep up the overall lively pace. There are moments, however, that break away from the more down-to-Earth cinematography in lieu of something more adjacent to fiction, and they feel extremely organic in relation to the overall whole of the feature. However, it is impossible to forget the film’s astounding soundtrack, the grand majority of which is comprised of songs from the musicals discussed therein. There is original music created for the film of course (including a number that I need not divulge further so as to avoid spoilers), but the selections chosen for the soundtrack thread the line between a sense of ironically fun ridiculousness and actual, genuine good. A number that’s featured early on in the picture, “My Bathroom” (from the “Bathrooms are Coming” record that seemingly started all of this), is an unintentional masterpiece of humor (one of the lyrics is “Where I cream, and dream, and dream. Dream”). However, when the song is used later in the film (and in a far-less mocking context than initially presented), it takes on a far more impactful tone, sounding like it belongs in a museum rather than a backwater record store oddity bin. Bathtubs Over Broadway is a film that shouldn’t exist, and yet, it more than justifies its existence over the course of its’ 87 minute runtime. I could go further into just how well this film was made, but part of what makes it work is a true lack of knowledge going in. In conclusion, Bathtubs is a genuinely sincere letter to a genre that no one (at least up until now) knew about, except for the folks who made it to begin with. Unlike the records that inspired it, this movie should be seen and heard by everyone who has the opportunity. Trite as it may sound, this one’s for the dreamers.
