(1938)2.5Hans J. WollsteinIlona Massey, whom Louis B. Mayer had brought over from Hungary in the wake of Hedy Lamarr, doesn't merely descend a staircase in Rosalie, but does so accompanied by the Albertina Rasch dancers and in an impossible set designed by Cedric Gibbons (or his two associates). But that is just the kind of overproduced musical extravaganza Rosalie is. The flimsy plot all but collapses under the weight of Gibbons' enormous sets and dance director David Gould's ditto choreography, and you are left with plenty of time to marvel over the casting of thirtysomething Nelson Eddy as a college football hero. Eleanor Powell's terpsichorean talents are always a sight to behold, but she, too, looks slightly diminished by the colossal surroundings and a production that apparently got completely away from the otherwise so capable W.S. Van Dyke.