The Surprising Origin and Meaning of "Just a Gigolo"
Not everyone knew the part he was playing...
They say one post begets another, much like one wedding leads to another in the timeless proverb. My inspiration for this particular entry struck unexpectedly, sparked by a scene from the pre-code musical Flying Down to Rio (1933). While paying homage to Stanley Donen in a recent piece, I found myself watching this film again and being particularly engrossed in a charming exchange between Gene Raymond and Dolores del Río. In a lovely little scene, full of banter, identity confusion, and double entendres, Raymond's character offers a playful twist with a rendition of “Just a Gigolo”. This seemingly innocuous moment sent me down a rabbit hole of curiosity.
“Just a Gigolo” scene from Flying Down to Rio (1933) that started this post
You see, my familiarity with the song stems mainly from Louis Prima’s bouncy 1956 mashup version, so it was a surprise to discover its existence nearly two decades earlier. You may also recognize the melody of “Just a Gigolo” through its later lively renditions by The Village People and David Lee Roth. But do you truly know the song’s not-so-chipper origins? Were you aware that it traces back to the late 1920s? If, like me, you have never pondered these questions, prepare to be surprised. The answers I found unraveled a fascinating story behind this popular song that I could have never foreseen, offering a poignant glimpse of a bygone era.
In order to truly understand the initial meaning and significance of this song, we must first travel back to Austria, during the tumultuous period following the devastation caused by World War I. In the aftermath of the great conflict, the Austria-Hungary empire disintegrated, leaving Vienna, once a thriving cultural hub with large political institutions, in a state of economic hardship and social upheaval due to the huge costs of war reparations. Several years passed, and it was against this backdrop of uncertainty and disillusionment that the first notes of “Just a Gigolo” were heard. Echoing the bleak atmosphere of Bob Fosse's Cabaret (1972) with its portrayal of a nation on the brink of collapse, the earliest composition of this tune equally refers to how such a panorama affected its society and, especially, a male figure that would soon become obsolete.
The song's origins can be traced back to the late 1920s, when Italian composer Leonello Casucci and Austrian lyricist Julius Brammer crafted an Austrian tango called “Schöner Gigolo, armer Gigolo”, which translates into “nice Gigolo, poor Gigolo”. Inspired by this grim atmosphere of post-war Vienna, the song depicted the plight of a former hussar, now reduced to working as a hired dancer to make ends meet. Hussars were once members of light cavalry in European armies, particularly in Hungary. Originating in the 15th century, hussars slowly became outdated due to the evolution of modern warfare and the advent of mechanized military technology, with their impact becoming significantly diminished precisely by the end of World War I. Once prominent and admired figures, they wore flamboyant uniforms and were regarded as a prestigious class, though this status eventually faded away. Austria’s financial and social hardships led many members of the nobility to frequent cafés and cabarets, seeking the favor of unsavory liaisons. Brammer’s poignant lyrics captured the essence of a society in decline, resulting in a haunting tale:
Nice Gigolo, poor Gigolo,
Don’t think about the times anymore.
Where you as a hussar, even laced with gold,
You could ride through the streets.
Uniform fits, darling says goodbye,
Beautiful world, you were wearing fringes.
Even if your heart breaks,
Show a smiling face,
They pay and you have to dance.
In 1929, the song, already popular in Europe, underwent a transformation when US lyricist and theater composer Irving Caesar adapted it into English for the Tin Pan Alley, giving rise to the version we now know as “Just a Gigolo”. Caesar eliminated the term “hussar” and other Austrian references, and he changed the scenery to a Paris café, where the impoverished war hero was confronted with the harsh truth of his circumstances. Despite the linguistic shift, with this first adaptation, the song maintained its evocative depiction of a past era and historical backdrop, resonating with audiences far beyond the streets of Vienna. Its simple yet emotionally charged melody, coupled with its bittersweet lyrics, struck a chord with listeners, and it became a hit across the world.
By 1931, the most famous musicians, orchestras, and bands were recording “Just a Gigolo” for the general public in a string of versions that rivaled in tone and nostalgia. Those early popular versions of the song in English were by the likes of Leo Reisman, Ted Lewis, Ben Bernie and Frank Sylvano, the wonderful Louis Armstrong, and the crooner Bing Crosby. In Crosby’s rendition, an often-omitted introductory verse reveals the song’s original gloomy historical background, adding depth to his memorable rendition. This initial English version, my favorite of this era besides the original Austrian tango, was featured prominently in the harrowing final scene of an episode in the sixth season of the TV series Mad Men. The inclusion of this verse, absent in later renditions, is pivotal for understanding the extent of the song’s true emotional gravity:
It was in a Paris café that first I found him.
He was a Frenchman and hero of the war.
But war was over and here’s how peace had crowned him,
A few cheap medals to wear and nothing more.
Now every night in the same café he shows up,
And has he strolls by, ladies hear him say:
If you admire me, hire me.
A Gigolo who knew a better day…
Some later versions of the song in the 1950s and 1960s, such as those by Django Reinhardt, Jaye P. Morgan, Harry James, Sarah Vaughan, Carmen McRae, or Thelonious Monk, still retained a somewhat melancholic tone. Even Connie Francis included the initial verse in her 1968 recording for the album Connie & Clyde. However, over time, this section was often omitted in favor of the catchy chorus, leading to the song’s history and original meaning being largely forgotten. Interestingly, the song gradually shed its melancholic tone in favor of a lighter, more upbeat style, culminating in Louis Prima’s aforementioned version. Prima famously paired it with the 1915 song “I Ain’t Got Nobody”, which fostered the misconception that the original tune was a combination of these two compositions.
This 1910-born Italian-American singer, trumpeter, bandleader, and composer had been entertaining audiences since the 1930s with a variety of popular styles, such as swing, jazz, jump blues, and boogie-woogie. Among the many popular albums he recorded were “Sing, Sing, Sing”, which he wrote in 1936 and which Benny Goodman notably played with the brilliant Gene Krupa on drums. Prima was well-known for his high spirits and charisma, in addition to his musical talents. He performed a different act with Keely Smith, his creative collaborator and fourth wife, whom he married in 1953.
When Prima debuted “Just a Gigolo” at the Sahara Casino in Las Vegas in the 1950s, it was an immediate hit and a huge success. Despite having recorded the song in 1945, it was later adapted and combined with the forgotten classic “I Ain’t Got Nobody”, with the help of saxophonist and singer Sam Butera who, along with his band The Witnesses, accompanied Prima in Las Vegas. Influenced by New Orleans jazz, the singing style of Cab Calloway, who already versioned “I Ain’t Got Nobody”, can also be identified in Prima’s rendition. In 1967, he gained further fame as the voice of King Louie in Disney’s version of The Jungle Book (1967). I Wanna Be Like You remains one of my favorite classic Disney songs!
Speaking of other films, “Just a Gigolo” has a few but utterly fascinating cinematic connections. First, in 1931, there was a pre-code film titled Just a Gigolo, starring William Haines and Irene Purcell, directed by Jack Conway. This snappy, albeit forgettable, 66-minute feature vaguely questioned the practicality of marriage and morality. It seemingly featured the song in the background, intertwining its title with the film’s plot about a financially troubled gentleman whose uncle has arranged a marriage, posing as a gigolo for a bet in order to test the respectability of his fiancée. According to AFI, the film was rejected by censor boards in Ireland, Nova Scotia, and British Columbia because of the “light treatment of immoral sex subjects”. Moreover, it was a flop and one of the last films for Haines at MGM, where he was shortly released as an actor, allegedly for being gay. However, Haines found new success in the enduring friendships he had cultivated, ultimately becoming a prosperous interior decorator in Hollywood.
Several decades later, in 1978, another film emerged under the title Just a Gigolo, featuring the incomparable David Bowie. Despite boasting a star-studded cast, this ambitious production, directly inspired by the famous hit song, failed to impress critics and audiences alike. Nevertheless, it managed to unite two influential figures who were pioneers in challenging gender norms and expectations: Bowie and Marlene Dietrich, in what would be Dietrich’s final onscreen role.
In terms of the story, the film relocates from post-World War I Vienna to Berlin, centering on a former Prussian soldier portrayed by Bowie. Struggling to navigate a society ravaged by war and economic turmoil, he endeavors to support his struggling family but ultimately turns to gigolo work as a last resort. Amidst a backdrop of wealth and intrigue, he becomes entangled in relationships with various women, notably the enigmatic Helga von Kaiserling, played by Kim Novak. The cast also includes Sydne Rome, Maria Schell, Curd Jürgens, or David Hemmings, who directed the film as well. There are many similarities in look and feel to the aforementioned Cabaret. However, it fell short of capturing the emotional depth of its predecessor. Despite Bowie's involvement, the film failed to resonate with audiences the way it intended to, receiving a tepid response.
Despite its shortcomings, this failed production holds a particular fascination as the final entry in Marlene Dietrich’s illustrious film career. If anyone understood the deeper meaning of a song like “Just a Gigolo,” it was certainly Marlene. Starting as a chorus girl, she performed in cabarets, on stage, and in films in both Berlin and Vienna throughout the 1920s. This film not only represents her final on-screen role but also the last time she sang in a movie. At almost 80 years old, she delivers one of the most touching and unique renditions of the song. Her unmistakable class and style, combined with her own history, elevate the popular chorus and infuse it with the profound nostalgia that such farewell lyrics and such a performance evoke. You can find that scene on YouTube, and I highly encourage you to give it a listen.
These cinematic connections, though lacking in success, highlight the song’s impact on popular culture. Each adaptation serves as a testament to its powerful narrative and its portrayal of how life continues despite endings and hardships. The next time you hear Louis Prima’s exuberant version, consider what is inscribed on his crypt door: “When the end comes, I know they'll say, ‘just a gigolo’ as life goes on without me.” Such is the enduring legacy and the powerful meaning behind “Just a Gigolo”.
Additional links
Out of all the odd versions of this song, I have to also at least include a link of the utterly unhinged Dave Fleischer’s Betty Boop cartoon titled also Just a Gigolo. It featured Franco-American actress and singer Irène Bordoni who provides with a rousing sing-along rendition which you can find through the Internet Archive.
David Bowie and David Hemmings talk about making Just a Gigolo (1978) in different clips of interviews in this YouTube video. What’s most extraordinary is that Bowie says that his scenes with Marlene Dietrich were shot while they were both in different cities so they didn’t actually meet in person, only over the phone!
Wonderful Sarah Vaughan’s version of the song, released in 1957, is another of my favorite and more jazzy interpretations of “Just a Gigolo”.