One of the finest Broadway shows of all time, "Annie Get Your Gun," has now become one of MGM's biggest shows of all time. This just about sums up the difference: where Ethel Merman and Co. were superb, Betty Hutton and Co. are simply loud and active.

This is not to say that Annie Get Your Gun is not an entertaining movie. The Irving Berlin tunes are topnotch: "Show Business," "Doin' What Comes Naturally," "You Can't Get a Man with a Gun," "Falling in Love," "The Sun in the Morning and the Moon at Night," "The Girl I Marry." And even though Betty Hutton feels compelled to keep in constant and anatomically miraculous motion during her songs, she still has the bounce and fire required for any successor to Ethel Merman.

As Annie, the simple girl from the backwoods who can't read but who is the best shot you damn well ever saw, Miss Hutton overplays her part with her usual animal energy, and lack of artistry. Those who have a yen for her will not mind, but the discriminating may suffer, and those who have seen Miss Merman in the part had better not go.

Annie Get Your Gun, of course, stands or falls on its Annie. The rest of the cast, from Buffalo Bill to Chief Sitting Bull, is perfectly adequate. The miscellaneous Indians, cowboys, etc., who comprise the cast of thousands, are too numerous. Dear old MGM could simply not resist the temptation to stage a spectacle.