An inane film with an unlikeable protagonist but interesting characters off the screen. Date of Release: Feb 28, 1930 Studio: MGM Director: William Nigh, Harry Beaumont Cinematographer: Henry Sharo Editor: Anne Bauchens Screenplay: Crane Wilbur, Willard Mack Music: Arthur Freed and Nacio Herb Brown, Joe Goodwin and Louis Alter, Dimitri Tiomkin and Raymond B. Egan, Richard A. Whiting Choreographer: Sammy Lee, ballet by Albertina Rasch Leading Actors: Charles Kaley (Roy), Ethelind Terry (Adria), Marion Shilling (Nancy), Cliff Edwards (Joe), Gwen Lee (Bessie), Benny Rubin (Phil), Drew Demorest (Edwards), John Byron (Mr Millaire), Rita Flynn (Redhead), Hazel Craven (Blondie) Lord Byron of Broadway tells the story of a conceited and womanizing song writer, Roy (Charles Kaley), who uses his flings with women to write hit songs. The plot came from a popular novel of the same name, published in 1928 by writer Nell Martin. Little information is currently available about Martin, despite having lived a seemingly interesting life. She wrote 8 novels, and over 200 short stories, one of which, The Adventures of Mazie, was adapted into a series of silent shorts by F.B.O. starring Alberta Vaughn (not to be confused with the Maisie films starring Ann Sothern). According to a brief biography in A Dashiell Hammett Companion, Martin worked in a variety of jobs from “migrant worker, laundry worker, clerk, and taxi driver,” to “proof reader, journalist, singer, and actress.” Film historian Edwin M. Bradley notes Martin was a “vaudevillian and newspaper reporter.” She was married twice, and was a known lover of famed writer Dashiell Hammett (who wrote The Maltese Falcon, The Thin Man, and The Glass Key, the last of which he dedicated to Martin). Dates of her death are conflicting across sources, and it appears that Nell Martin died in obscurity. At the end of 1928, MGM announced a film version of Lord Byron of Broadway, slated to star Bessie Love and Williams Haines, with William Nigh directing. It was later announced that Charles King was starring. As noted in Edwin M. Bradley’s Unsung Hollywood Musicals of the Golden Era, Lord Byron of Broadway was beset with casting and production problems. This didn’t stop MGM promoting the film, with an ad in Exhibitors Herald World in June 1929 extolling it was “A heart-stirring story of Tin Pan alley… It’s got everything that the human Talking screen can give!” Production finally began around the fall of 1929, with vaudeville performers Charles Kaley, "the boy with the golden voice," a vaudevillian and master of ceremonies and Ethelind Terry, star of Rio Rita on Broadway, in the lead roles. According to Bradley, director William Nigh was fired shortly after producer Harry Rapf saw the first rough cut, and demanded a remake. Harry Beaumont (The Broadway Melody) was bought on, who attempted to make Roy’s character more palatable. The music was provided by MGM studio composers Arthur Freed and Nacio Herb Brown, Joe Goodwin and Louis Alter, Dimitri Tiomkin, and Raymond B. Egan, and Richard A. Whiting. Sheet music for songs “Should I?”, “The Woman in the Shoe,” “A Bundle of Old Love Letters,” and “Only Love is Real,” was released in late 1929, and proved to be popular. Victor Arden, Phil Ohman and Orchestra recorded “Should I” and “A Bundle of Old Love Letters.” “Should I” was briefly a top 10 song, and according to Variety was also the subject of four separate copyright suits. Lord Byron of Broadway was finally released in February, 1930. Was it worth the drama? The Tin Pan Alley inspired musical was panned by the critics. The Motion Picture Committee of The Women’s University stated it was “a weak edition of The Broadway Melody”, and The New Movie Magazine described it as “almost utterly lacking personality.” Norbert Lusk, writing for Picture Play, stated the film was “A stew without salt, because it is… careless and undistinguished…” Several critics felt the story had potential, but, as Lusk noted, “the idea never quite comes through the morass of hackneyed situations, trite dialogue and other conventions of a backstage story.” Charles Kaley received entirely negative reviews for his first feature. Harrison’s Reports stated “he is like a stick” and Variety expounded his character was “a doltish conceited cad.” Ethelind Terry and Marion Shilling also received sour reviews, with critics complaining that Terry’s vaudevillian mannerisms were too over-the-top for screen work, and that Shilling was too inexperienced to be effective as the ingenue. Their supporting stars fared better, with Cliff Edwards (The Hollywood Revue of 1929, So This is College) and Benny Rubin, garnering warm praise for their performances. Lord Byron of Broadway contained two Technicolor sequences, “Blue Daughter of Heaven” and “The Woman in the Shoe,” staged by Sammy Lee (The Hollywood Revue of 1929 and Chasing Rainbows), and Albertina Rasch (Devil-May-Care, The Hollywood Revue of 1929, Sally, Pointed Heels). The numbers didn’t do much to save the film. The New York Times’ Mordaunt Hall stated that while the numbers used “some clever staging and striking camera angles…, [they are] too dark and often indistinct.” Harrison’s Reports also noted “the color work is very poor,” and Variety’s Ruth Morris felt the dance numbers, though “very pretty,” were “incongruous.” Reviews aside, the footage from “Woman in the Shoe” was later re-used in Nertsery Rhymes (1933) and Roast Beef and Movies (1934). Charles Kaley performed at screenings of Lord Byron of Broadway in Chicago. This was not unusual, as many theatres still split their programming between vaudeville acts and movie screenings. A Variety review mentioned a particularly effective act presented at the Fox in Brooklyn in May 1930, which included an acrobatic troupe, The Son Linfield Co., who entered the stage via an oversized prop shoe, built to resemble the shoe house from the aforementioned “Woman in the Shoe.” Unfortunately for Kaley, vaudeville was well on its way out. As reported in Exhibitors Herald World in February 1930, talking pictures were directly responsible for changing audience tastes and bringing about the death of vaudeville. In 1920, there had been more than 80 theatres “playing big-time, two a day policy vaudeville.” By 1930, that number had dropped to just 8. While vaudeville actors were being lured to Hollywood to film shorts for big pay, the performers quickly found themselves with less work and less pay on the stage. Compounding their problems was that, like Charles Kaley and Ethelind Terry, their stage skills did not translate well on screen. Lord Byron of Broadway was also released as a silent film, as many theatres were still not equipped for sound. Although, for some audiences, Lord Byron of Broadway may have been their first talkie. The film received mention as the first talkie seen at the new American theatre in Harlowtown, Montana which had been fitted out with Western Electric, Vitaphone, and Movietone. Silent or talkie, Lord Byron of Broadway flopped at the box office. The film occasionally aired on television in the 1960s, and later on Turner Classic Movies. Lord Byron of Broadway was included in a five-week film festival, “Musicals Before the Code,” at Film Forum 2 in New York City in 1996. The Warner Bros Archive Collection released the film on DVD in 2010. Modern day critics are kinder to Lord Byron of Broadway. Writing for Vitaphone Varieties, Jeff Cohen describes it as “a film I've long considered to be among the best photographed and recorded of all the early screen musicals,” and Edwin M. Bradley states “it’s a valuable reminder of good and bad of the earliest film musicals.” I sat down to watch Lord Byron of Broadway with mixed expectations. Was it going to be like Syncopation, which was far more amusing than the critics had led me to believe? Or was it going to be another painful hour of eye-rolling why-did-I-choose-this-project boredom? Sadly, it was the latter. The script and dialogue are inane, the music is not the best work of the composers, and not even the warm and amusing Cliff Edwards or Benny Rubin can save it all. Charles Kaley is wooden, and utterly unbelievable as someone whom all the women would fall madly in love with. Contrary to what the critics believed, Ethelind Terry is a delight to watch and surprisingly funny. An unintended highlight of the film occurs when Terry looks straight at the camera mid-take with a joyful grin and a twinkle in her eye. Perhaps with better material, or a director willing to find a way to work with her stage background, Terry could have been a great screen comedienne.
Often with these dull early musicals, I have found solace in the Technicolor song-and-dance numbers. Unfortunately, I concur with the critics. Choreographed by Albertina Rasch (The Hollywood Revue of 1929, Pointed Heels, Devil-May-Care, Sally) and Sammy Lee (The Hollywood Revue of 1929, Chasing Rainbows), the numbers are just not filmed well. “Blue Daughter of Heaven” makes nice use of aerial shots, the number is essentially long-legged chorus girls dancing in circles on a revolve, made all the more problematic by the all-white cast wearing Chinese-themed costumes. “Woman in the Shoe” is amusing, and a beautifully designed play on the well-known children’s story, but the dark blackbird costumes do not look good on screen. A saving grace of the film are the gorgeous dresses and outfits, designed by David Cox. Cox worked as the costume designer on over 40 films, and in wardrobe on another 34. According to film fashion historian Kimberly Truhler, although he is relatively unknown today, Cox’s groundbreaking designs, particularly for the 1928 silent Our Dancing Daughters starring Joan Crawford, have become the reference point for productions set in the 1920s. I’m rather enamored by the opening sequence of that film (featured on historian Heather Vaughan Lee’s blog). Just gorgeous! Charles Kaley returned to the diminishing vaudeville circuit, and only returned to Hollywood in small uncredited appearances in a small number of films. Ethelind Terry returned to Broadway and only appeared in another film in a small role. Marion Shilling had better success in Hollywood, appearing in over 40 films before she left the industry in 1936 to become a mother. Lord Byron of Broadway was a lot of fun to research, from reading the scathing reviews through to discovering people like Nell Martin, Ethelind Terry, and David Cox, whom I might never have heard of otherwise. As for the film itself, it’s one that will stay on the shelf. Sources
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Vaudeville meets baseball with an inane love diamond. Date of Release: Jan 31, 1930 Studio: MGM Director: Jack Conway and Sam Wood Screenplay: A.P. Younger (story), Sarah Y. Mason (scenario), Arthur “Bugs” Baer (dialogue) Music: Milton Ager, Jack Yellen Choreographer: Sammy Lee Leading Actors: Joe Schenck (Jack) Gus Van (Jerry) Bessie Love (Mary) Mary Doran (Daisy) J.C. Nugent (Stafford) Benny Rubin (Sam) Tom Dugan (Tim) Eddie Gribbon (Brennan) Francis X. Bushman Jr. (Haskins) Nina Mae McKinney (Harlem Madness Singer) Cliff Edwards (Singer in Harlem Madness) Van and Schenck were well-known vaudeville performers from Brooklyn. The duo had been performing together for nearly two decades, and had appeared in several MGM “movietone” shorts. Initially announced in late 1929 under the titles Playing the Field, The Pennant Winning Battery, and Play it Big, Van and Schenck’s first and only feature film They Learned About Women was released by MGM in January 1930. The final title was derived from a 1927 Van and Schenck short. The film was written by Sarah Y. Mason, who also wrote for Broadway Melody, along with sports commentator Arthur “Bugs” Baer. Giant’s player Mike Donin also reportedly served as the baseball supervisor. They Learned About Women tells the story of two Blue Sox baseball players, straight-laced Jack (Schenck) and party boy Jerry (Van) who perform a vaudeville act in the off-season. Jack is in love with Mary (Bessie Love), but is quickly wooed by “bad girl” Daisy (Mary Doran). Jack marries Daisy, who forces Jack to leave baseball and his vaudeville partner of fifteen years to start their own act. The Blue Sox are in the finals of the World Series, but things are looking grim without the old partnership of Jerry and Jack. Jack returns, no longer with Daisy, and brings about a win for the Blue Sox. Realizing his buddy still loves Mary, and that Mary still loves Jack, Jerry graciously steps away. I had initially brushed off the notion of vaudeville singin’ baseball players as a contrived way to work music into a baseball themed movie, but after chatting with baseball historian and theatre director Ralph Carhart, I discovered this was actually quite common. As baseball historian John Thorn notes in the foreward to Carhart’s book The Hall Ball, “Players. That standard baseball term… derives from the theater… Practitioners of the baseball arts were thus named because they were regarded as entertainers…” Schenck and Van were not themselves professional baseball players, but were reportedly avid fans. Schenck had also “once captained the vaudeville “All-stars” team.” Schenck and Van were not themselves professional baseball players, but were reportedly avid fans. Schenck had also “once captained the vaudeville “All-stars” team.” Perhaps testing the waters to see how Van and Schenck fared in a feature length film, MGM did not give They Learned About Women much in the way of publicity. Some theatre owners attempted new ways to lure in patrons. The Fox Theatre in Detroit invited the local baseball team, the Detroit Tigers, to attend a showing, while Trenton theatre in Lynchburg, Virginia, collaborated with Power Laundries for a promotion using an anagraphic puzzle and movie pass giveaways. The Lyric Theatre in Tennessee attempted to use “the feminine penchant for reducing,” ie. losing weight, to entice female audiences by promoting Bessie Love’s “1930 Beauty Form Chart.” According to Exhibitors Herald-World, the chart detailed how Love retained her “vim, vigor, and vitality,” and encouraged daily physical activity in the form of physical culture. The Film Daily noted “the baseball stuff is good” and summarized that the film was a “a peppy number that should please.” The Motion Picture Committee of the Los Angeles Branch of The Women’s University Club stated the film would “probably have a wide range of appeal since it combines the ever-popular baseball theme with new song hits.” They Learned About Women featured 6 songs by Milton Ager and Jack Yellen (both of whom had previously worked on Honkey Tonk and Chasing Rainbows) — ‘There Will Never Be Another Mary’, ’Harlem Madness’, ‘Does My Baby Love?’, ‘He’s That Kind of a Pal’, ‘Aintcha Baby’, ’A Man of My Own’ — and 2 songs by Van and Schenck, ‘Dougherty is the Name’ and ‘I’m an Old Fashioned Guy’. Despite predictions of wide appeal, Exhibitors Herald-World published several reports noting that They Learned About Women failed to draw in audiences. Some also mentioned that the film’s strange title did not help. Apart from a few industry reviews, They Learned About Women was not reviewed by any major publications. As with just about every movie musical from this period, watching They Learned About Women today is both a frustrating and surprising experience. The ho hum story of the love diamond between Jerry, Jack, Mary, and Daisy is eye-roll inducing, and the only two speaking women in the film fall into the predictable dichotomy of sweet good girl/vixen bad girl. People of color exist only in subservient roles, until we arrive at the theatre. The film features the fabulous ‘Harlem Madness’, a musical number performed by a troupe made up entirely of people of color. The troupe is led by Nina Mae McKinney, who was uncredited, who had starred in Hallelujah the year before. ‘Harlem Madness’ was originally shot in Technicolor, and oh for those prints to be restored! The scene is a joyous highlight of the film, even if it has no relevance to the plot. The inane script, and terrible politics aside, the music is delightful and Joe Schenck and Gus Van are charming. The joyful chemistry between them, and with Bessie Love (who had previously starred in Broadway Melody, The Girl in the Show, and Chasing Rainbows) is clearly visible. The camaraderie is also evident in the fun shower room scene following baseball practise. The entire male cast engages in silly play, and joyful ensemble singing of ‘Ten Sweet Mamas’. The fellow baseball players are good in their comedic sidekick roles, notably Tom Dugan as a stuttering fool. The final scene was shot at Wrigley Stadium, and features 1000s of extras. Despite some repetitive use of one or two action shots, the scene successfully conveys the excitement and drama of a high stakes baseball game. They Learned About Women was Van and Schenck’s last feature film. Schenck died suddenly of a heart attack whilst on tour in June, 1930, reportedly dying in Van’s arms. The film was the basis for the 1949 musical Take Me Out to the Ball Game starring Gene Kelly, Frank Sinatra, and Esther Williams, and a guest appearance by Tom Dugan. TCM released They Learned About Women on television and on laser-disc in the mid-1990s. The Warner Archive Collection released They Learned About Women on DVD in 2009. SOURCES
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Early Lubitsch musical with great performances and terrible sexism. Date of Release: Jan 18, 1930 Studio: Paramount Director: Ernst Lubitsch Screenplay: Guy Bolton, Ernest Vajda Music: Clifford Grey, Victor Schertzinger Leading Actors: Maurice Chevalier (Count Alfred) Jeanette MacDonald (Queen Louise) Lupino Lane (Jacques) Lillian Roth (Lulu) Edgar Norton (Master of ceremonies) Lionel Belmore (Prime Minister) Albert Roccardi (Foreign Minister) Carlton Stockdale (Admiral) Eugene Pallette (Minister of War) Russell Powell (Afghan Ambassador) E. H. Calvert (Ambassador) André Sheron (Le Mari) Yola d’Avril (Paulette) Winter Hall (Priest) Ben Turpin (Cross-Eyed Lackey) Anton Vaverka (Cabinet Minster) Albert De Winton (Cabinet Minster) William von Hardenburg (Cabinet Minsters) Margaret Fealy (Lady in Waiting) Virginia Bruce (Lady in Waiting) Josephine Hall (Lady in Waiting) Rosalind Charles (Lady in Waiting) Helene Friend (Lady in Waiting) Like Sally, The Love Parade received a limited release in late 1929 and was officially released in early 1930. The Love Parade was frequently referred to in advertising as the “first film operetta,” however The Desert Song was actually the first. Some advertising refers to The Love Parade as the first original operetta, though as it was based on the play The Prince Consort by Leon Xanrof and Jules Chancel, this claim is also not entirely true. According to Screenland, the film was shot in seven weeks and cost $650,000 to make. The Love Parade received extensive publicity. In addition to print publicity, songs and scenes from the film were aired on Columbia Radio on the Paramount-Publix Hour. It was the first film to be advertised in a “tie-up” between Paramount and the Philco Storage Battery Company. In an unusual publicity stunt, the Capitol Theatre in Macon, Georgia, had a tie-in with the Goodyear Tire company. A giant tire with a sign bearing the film’s title was positioned outside the theatre, and featured in a parade. Motion Picture News described the stunt as “one of the best traveling “billboards” ever used in exploiting a picture.”
The Love Parade premiered in New York at the Criterion Theatre on November 19, 1929. The film was a smash hit, breaking the Criterion’s records for advance sales and continuing to play well during an extended run. The film was released around the world, including in London, Sydney, and Buenos Aires. In London, the film became the longest running talking picture at the Carleton Theatre. English and French versions were released in Canada. Unusually, The Love Parade was screened in Antarctica. As reported in The Film Daily, the film was broadcast from the Prince Edward Theatre in Sydney to Richard E. Byrd who was on expedition in the Antarctic. Audiences and critics alike fell for The Love Parade, and the film received universal rave reviews. Reviewers praised the performances of Maurice Chevalier and Jeanette MacDonald, and Ernst Lubitsch’s artful direction. After reading a slew of ecstatic reviews, I was excited to sit down and watch The Love Parade, which Criterion released on DVD in 2008 as part of an Ernst Lubitsch musicals collection. German-born Ernst Lubitsch was a prolific actor, writer, director, and producer who was considered one of the finest artists of his generation. His style, known as “the Lubitsch Touch,” was characterized by poignant humor and insightful representations of money and sex. After starting out as an actor, Lubitsch transitioned to directing where he had great success in Germany. His success continued in the United States, where he directed comedies, musicals, and dramas. Criterion released a set of Lubitsch musicals on DVD in 2008. The collection includes The Love Parade (1929), Monte Carlo (1930), The Smiling Lieutenant (1931), and One Hour With You (1932). The Love Parade opens with Count Alfred (Maurice Chevalier), Sylvanian ambassador to France, caught in yet another love scandal. Alfred is promptly requested to return home to Sylvania for an audience with Queen Louise. Queen Louise (Jeanette MacDonald), who sleeps in late and has time to luxuriate in baths, is tired of all her subjects wondering when she is going to find herself a husband. Count Alfred returns to court, and as punishment for all his affairs is to marry Louise. Alfred may only ever have the rank of Consort, and his life quickly descends into boredom, because it is clearly unnatural for a man to be at the whim of a woman. Louise must keep up the facade of a happy marriage, or else foreign countries will not repay their loans and Sylvania will become bankrupt. The film ends with Louise tearfully declaring Alfred may be King, and order is restored. Lubitsch’s direction lives up to the hype. The film is visually stunning, with terrific performances by its leads Maurice Chevalier and Jeanette MacDonald. The couple have a pleasant screen chemistry, but it is hard to believe they love each other romantically. Lupino Lane and Lillian Roth deliver equally spirited performances, however their comedic side-plot could be cut from the film without any loss to the story. The Love Parade features a terrific score by Clifford Grey (who had also composed for Syncopation, Sally, and The Vagabond Lover), and Victor Schertzinger (who had directed Fashions in Love). The songs are light-hearted, with catchy melodies and fun lyrics. Highlights include “Champagne,” a chance for Chevalier to show off his Frenchness, “Let’s Be Common,” a delightful Cole Porter-esque duet, and the rousing “March of the Grenadiers” featuring Jeanette MacDonald supported by a male chorus. Lubitsch’s direction helps to lift the songs. Clever staging, dynamic camera work, and use of the ensemble to frame the lead singer all contribute to making the songs an integral part of the film. Tellingly, The Love Parade was the first film where critics were not annoyed by the fact characters just broke out into song, without first explaining why. Despite the performances and music, the inherent sexism in The Love Parade makes for painful viewing. The basic premise of the film is that women should be submissive to men. Even as queen, Louise cannot escape the fact she is “just a mere woman.” She is defined only by her beauty, having the most “perfect” legs in the land, and her relationship to men.
Along with its overtly sexist script, The Love Parade also suffers from racism. The entire population of the fictional Sylvania is white (though I suppose it receives points for not casting people of color as servants). The token foreign head of state is Afghani, known for his belief that women can’t hold power, and played by white actor Russell Powell dressed with a turban. Perhaps worth a watch for early Jeanette MacDonald and Maurice Chevalier, and a demonstration of Lubitsch’s iconic style, but not a recommended early movie musical. Visually stunning musical that is a treat in Technicolor. Date of Release: Jan 12, 1930 Studio: First National Director: John Francis Dilllon Screenplay: Waldermar Young Music: Joe Burke, B. G. DeSylva, Al Dubin, Clifford Grey, Jerome Kern Choreographer: Larry Ceballos Leading Actors: Marilyn Miller (Sally), Alexander Gray (Blair Farquar), Joe E. Brown (Connie [The Grand Duke]), T. Roy Barnes (Otis Hooper), Pert Kelton (Rosie, his girlfriend), Ford Sterling ("Pops" Shendorff), Maude Turner Gordon (Mrs. Ten Brock), Nora Lane (Marcia, her daughter), E. J. Ratcliffe (John Farquar, Blair's father), Jack Duffy (The Old Roué), Albertina Rasch Ballet Sally was based on Ziegfeld’s Broadway musical of the same name. The Broadway show opened in 1920 and ran for two years, and marked the height of leading lady Marilyn Miller’s career. Marilyn Miller was a popular Broadway actress who performed in the USA and across Europe. Miller was married and divorced several times, and suffered from chronic sinus issues and alcoholism. Sally was the first of three film appearances for Miller, and she was reportedly paid $100,000 for her film debut. While not the top salary in Hollywood, it was certainly one of the highest. Sally had a limited release in late December 1929 at the Winter Garden Theatre, New York, but did not officially open until January 12, 1930. It played at the Winter Garden until March, when it moved to the Strand. In Los Angeles, the film played at the Warner Bros Theatre in Hollywood. The critics praised the use of Technicolor, describing the visuals as spectacular and gorgeous. The usually restrained Education Screen described it “One of the best productions of its kind to date,” and The New York Times stated it “…the most beautiful picture that has come to the screen.” Variety was less enthusiastic, claiming the film was “old-fashioned” and predicting it wouldn’t last longer than a week. The prediction proved inaccurate, and Sally broke box office records around the country. Sally was one of the earliest First National films to have a nationally coordinated advertising effort. Advertisements focused heavily on Marilyn Miller, the use of Technicolor, and the idea that the movie was bigger than the Broadway production. Among some unusual stunts were free movie tickets to women named Sally, and a tie-in with a bakery that distributed free tickets in loaves of bread. It was common for musicals of this period to include one or two lavish production numbers filmed in Technicolor. In a break from convention, the entirety of Sally was filmed in Technicolor. It is unclear if the full color prints have survived. In 1971, MoMA announced that a full color print had been found, and a screening would take place as part of an American musical film retrospective. For reasons yet unknown, the screening did not take place. After contacting MoMA, I learnt that the print was on loan from United Artists, which is now owned by Warner Bros. While this print may still exist, the Warner Archive DVD release from 2009 only contains one Technicolor scene. Sally was directed by John Francis Dilllon, also known as Jack Dillon, an actor and director of the silent era. The screenplay was written by Waldermar Young, a Mormon screenwriter whose twenty year career spanned both the silent and early talkie eras. Given that most early musicals created by silent film veterans are painful to watch today, and the fact that most of the film is now only available to view in black and white, Sally is a surprise treat. Marilyn Miller is gorgeous, and it is clear she was a terrific stage performer, but her singing and dancing do not read well on screen. While Alexander Gray’s voice comes across as rich and resonant, Miller’s voice is grating. Most songs are played as performances at the club, at the Ten Brock garden party, or on Broadway, however a couple of songs are sung as extensions of the characters’ feelings. Some critics were not enamored with this breaking of musical convention. As Motion Picture News noted, “Right then and there, logic died and musical comedy was crowned king.” The score was written by Joe Burke, B.G. DeSylva, Al Dubin, Clifford Grey, and Jerome Kern. This team of highly accomplished musicians and composers contributed to many of the movie musicals of 1929 including The Show of Shows, Gold Diggers of Broadway, The Hollywood Revue of 1929, Say it With Songs, The Cock-Eyed World, The Vagabond Lover, and Show Boat. Blair (Alexander Gray) sings “Look for the Silver Lining” to comfort the miserable Sally (Marilyn Miller). Gray’s rich baritone voice is incongruous with his sappy character, but the delightful melody and arrangement are a treat. Alexander Gray was a classically trained singer who appeared on Broadway in the Ziegfeld Follies and several musical productions including Rio Rita and The Desert Song. He was reportedly bought onto Sally at Marilyn Miller’s request. Gray also appeared in The Show of Shows (1929), and No, No, Nanette (1930). Later, Blair literally exclaims he “doesn’t have the words to express what I really think of her” and breaks out into the charming tune “Sally.” His party of friends join in with a rich male chorus refrain. A reprise of “Look for the Silver Lining” has a well filmed dance number, but the music and choreography are incongruous. The music is light and floating, while the dancing is energetic and staccato. Sally’s dance at the club, "All I Want To Do, Do, Do Is Dance” is another energetic tap number, however the routine is uninspiring. A comedy routine involving a ladder and Joe E. Brown playing an old man is presumably lifted straight from the Broadway show. It is amusing, but drags on too long. Brown deservedly received good notices for his role in Sally. He started out as an acrobat in vaudeville, and worked as a baseball player, and briefly in business. After returning to show business, he appeared in at least six Broadway productions, and toured extensively around the country. Brown was awarded a Special Tony Award in 1948 for his work in the touring production of Harvey. He appeared in over 70 films including On With the Show (1929) Show Boat (1951), and Some Like it Hot (1959), His biography, Laughter is a Wonderful Thing was published in 1956. “Wild Rose” takes place at the Ten Brock garden, "the biggest party of the year", and is the only number currently available in color. The composition of the shots, the dancing, and music all come together to create a visually radiant scene. The color prints bring the scene to life in a way black and white cannot replicate. The presence of an all-male ensemble, instead of the usual white long-limbed girls is also refreshing! The final number is a reproduction of the Butterfly Ballet from the Broadway show. Even in black and white it is visually stunning, and one can only imagine how it must have looked in color.
The most difficult aspect of Sally is the dialogue. It is stilted and cliched, unaided by use of unchanging straight on mid-shots. Marilyn Miller appeared in two more films, Sunny (1930) and Her Majesty, Love (1931) before her death in 1936 at the age of 37. Sally is currently available on Youtube (sans the Technicolor) and on DVD through the Warner Archive. A tedious backstage comedy saved by Marie Dressler. Date of Release: Jan 10, 1930 Studio: MGM Director: Charles F. Reisner Screenplay: Wells Root, Bess Meredyth, Charles F. Reisner, Robert Hopkins, Kenyon Nicholson, Al Boasberg Music: Milton Ager, Louis Alter, Sam Coslow, Joe Goodwin, Leo Robin, Richard A. Whiting, Jack Yellen Leading Actors: Bessie Love (Carlie), Charles King (Terry), Jack Benny (Eddie), George K. Arthur (Loster), Polly Moran (Polly), Gwen Lee (Peggy), Nita Martan (Daphne), Eddie Phillips (Cordova), Marie Dressler (Bonnie), Youcca Troubetzkoy (Lanning) Aiming to capitalize on the success of The Broadway Melody, MGM paired Bessie Love and Charles King together again in yet another backstage comedy musical. Initially titled The Road Show, the studio wanted to release the film under the title Happy Days, using the title of one of its theme songs. Unfortunately, Fox already had a release on the way under the same title. MGM settled on Chasing Rainbows and the film was released at the beginning of 1930. The film included several Technicolor production numbers, featuring Bessie Love and Charles King singing and dancing. Theatre managers engaged the usual publicity stunts to draw pundits. The Park Theatre Manager organized a tie-in with a local prom, which included a pot-o-pennies guessing competition, free tickets, and an orchestra performing songs from the film. Another theatre in Washington connected with a local dance school which offered “free instruction in a “Rainbow Tap” dance.” Stars Bessie Love and Charles King were featured heavily in promotions. In San Francisco, free pictures of the actors were distributed with purchases of the films record, and in Albany the cinema window display featured life-size cardboard cut-outs. The Palace Theatre in Torrington, Connecticut had a tie-in with a local newspaper where a photographer published photos taken around town, and anyone whose face appeared in the picture received a free ticket to the film. Chasing Rainbows received lackluster reviews. Most critics dismissed the tedious plot, and lamented that the whole film was an inferior copy of The Broadway Melody. Mordaunt Hall of the New York Times wrote “It is so utterly nonsensical that it becomes tedious before it is half way over, and that in spite of some impressive Technicolor episodes.” Modern day viewer Jeff Cohen of Vitaphone Varieties called it a “dismal affair.” The story follows Terry (Charles King) and Carlie (Bessie Love), a partner act in a touring musical revue “Last Days,” a musical comedy about the end of the war. Carlie is in love with Terry, doing all his chores for him and being his greatest support. Terry only has eyes for the show’s leading lady, a rotating cast of women who leave once they become sick of Terry’s depressive moods. Daphne (Nita Martan) is bought into star in the show. She is in love with Cordova (Eddie Phillips), and she only wants to use Terry to get to Broadway. The film bounces around the various love intrigues, with the supporting ensemble Bonnie (Marie Dressler), Polly (Polly Moran), and stage manager Eddie (Jack Benny) providing the much needed comic relief. Warner Bros Archive have restored Chasing Rainbows and made it available on DVD. Chasing Rainbows opens with the credits playing over footage of a speeding train. The opening number is the tail end of the finale of a show, “Happy Days.” The composition of the scene is great, and the music is fun and engaging. Chasing Rainbows suffers from needing to explain actors breaking out into song. The first full song, “Poor but Honest,” sung by Marie Dressler, is performed on the train to entertain the company. The camera stays on Dressler in a tight mid-shot, and it is Dressler’s wonderful interpretation that keeps the audience riveted through the patter song. “Lucky Me, Lovable You,” performed in rehearsal, is a sweet love song which moves into a light tap number performed by Bessie Love and Charles King. Following the dance break, the accompaniment shifts into a three-part harmony sung by three male members of the ensemble. It is a wonderful arrangement, showcasing the flexibility of the delightful tune. “Do I Know What I’m Doing?” performed at the same rehearsal, is lackluster during Nita Martan’s verse, but gains energy when handed over to Marie Dressler and Polly Moran performing a comedic bit with a hot iron. Charles King sings the inane ballad reprise of “Lucky Me, Loveable You,” as Terry tries to win back Carlie. While the opening number provides promise of high quality production numbers, the footage of the Technicolor numbers has been lost. Warner Bros have attempted to fill in the gaps with stills and segments of the music.
While the existing musical numbers are outstanding, the script and dialogue are tedious. The hour and a half running time (even without the missing production numbers), feels like an eternity. The awful script is is surprising given the later prominence of the scriptwriting team. After starting out as a newspaper writer and editor, Wells Root went on to become a prominent screen writer and educator. He was a founding member of the Screen Writers Guild, and wrote for film and television. In addition to teaching at UCLA for over thirty years, Root published the highly popular and successful handbook Writing the Script. Also known as Helen MacGlashan, Bess Meredyth, was born into a theatrical family. During the silent era, Meredyth worked extensively as a director, writer, and actor and was highly regarded in the industry for ability to create a high level of work under pressure. A fascinating biography can be found at the Women Film Pioneers Project. Robert E. Hopkins started out as a title writer, and went onto to write over 50 scripts in a career spanning almost 25 years. He was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Writing (Original Story) for San Francisco (1936). He also contributed to The Hollywood Revue of 1929. Kenyon Nicholson was a novelist and playwright. He wrote over 20 screenplays, and nearly as many Broadway plays. Scriptwriter Al Boasberg would go on to become a highly influential comedic writer, script doctor and director. He also wrote So This is College (1929), and contributed to The Hollywood Revue of 1929. The performances by the cast are admirable given the material. Charles King is utterly detestable as the leading man who falls in and out of love with his leading ladies. Bessie Love, whom the New York Times declared "is worthy of a far better vehicle," is immensely watchable as Terry's ever-suffering act partner. It is frustrating to watch her moon over the awful man that is Terry. Jack Benny, appearing in his first feature film, is delightful as the stage manager Eddie. He started out in vaudeville as a violinist, and went on to become a prominent entertainment personality and comedian, working in film, radio, and television. His television show, The Jack Benny Show, ran for over fifteen years. The saving grace of Chasing Rainbows is Marie Dressler. Dressler appeared in the The Vagabond Lover and was my favorite supporting actor of 1929. She received universal praise for her performance in Chasing Rainbows. Early on in the film Dressler states, “I’m getting too good for musical comedy.” It's unfortunately true. She steals every scene with her contorting facial expressions, dry delivery, and outstanding comic timing. Close behind Dressler is another great comedienne, Polly Moran. Moran was a successful internationally touring vaudeville artist. She appeared in the 1929 musicals So This is College and Hot for Paris. Dressler and Moran are a fantastic duo. It is refreshing to watch entire minutes of two hilarious women hamming it up, and not once pining after a man or needing to be the object of a man’s affections. More like this please! Despite the critical reviews and awful script, Chasing Rainbows proved a draw and performed very well at the box office, occasionally breaking box office records. Here’s hoping archivists continue to chase the Technicolor rainbow to restore the rest of the production numbers to give us something more interesting to watch. |
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