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Ads featured in Motion Picture News (Jan 4, 1930)
The first “deranged ventriloquist” film.
Date of Release: Sept 12, 1929
Studio: Sono-Art
Director: James Cruze
Screenplay: Ben Hecht, Hugh Herbert
Music: Lynn Cowan, Paul Titsworth, Donald McNamee, King Zany, Howard Jackson
Choreographer: Maurice L. Kusell
Leading Actors: Erich von Stroheim (Gabbo), Betty Compson (Mary), Donald Douglas (Frank), Margie Kane (Babe)
Date of Release: Sept 12, 1929
Studio: Sono-Art
Director: James Cruze
Screenplay: Ben Hecht, Hugh Herbert
Music: Lynn Cowan, Paul Titsworth, Donald McNamee, King Zany, Howard Jackson
Choreographer: Maurice L. Kusell
Leading Actors: Erich von Stroheim (Gabbo), Betty Compson (Mary), Donald Douglas (Frank), Margie Kane (Babe)
The Great Gabbo was based on “The Rival Dummy,” a magazine serial by Ben Hecht published in 1929 (and later novelized). Despite performing well at the box office, it was considered to be inferior to the earlier Sono-Art hit The Rainbow Man. The Great Gabbo was Erich Von Stoheim’s first talkie, and it was an early talkie for silent film director and actor James Cruze.
The Great Gabbo was dogged by lawsuits. The Great Lester, a New York ventriloquist, attempted to sue Sono-Art and the creatives for using his life story without permission. An ad from Variety (September 1929) however, claims von Stroheim was impersonating Marshal Montgomery, “America’s foremost ventriloquist.”
The Great Gabbo was dogged by lawsuits. The Great Lester, a New York ventriloquist, attempted to sue Sono-Art and the creatives for using his life story without permission. An ad from Variety (September 1929) however, claims von Stroheim was impersonating Marshal Montgomery, “America’s foremost ventriloquist.”
Variety (Sept 1929)
Motion Picture News (March 22, 1930) reported that Pauline Starke, who was originally signed to play the role of Mary, sued for breach of contract after director Cruze replaced her with his own wife, Betty Compson.
Later, the Good Amusement Company attempted to sue James Cruze for failing to pay laboratory bills, and threatened to hold the film’s negative until Cruze settled his debt. The case went to the New York Supreme Court, where the judge ruled in Cruze’s favor, stating that the Good Amusement Company didn’t have distribution rights, and therefore couldn’t hold onto the negative.
Later, the Good Amusement Company attempted to sue James Cruze for failing to pay laboratory bills, and threatened to hold the film’s negative until Cruze settled his debt. The case went to the New York Supreme Court, where the judge ruled in Cruze’s favor, stating that the Good Amusement Company didn’t have distribution rights, and therefore couldn’t hold onto the negative.
Finally, Sono-Art sought an injunction against the New York Police Department to stop the police from taking down a “living sign” in Times Square. The studio had erected a giant spider web, a recreation of a scene in the film, featuring thirty Chester Hale girls who posed, paraded, and performed two live shows for amused onlookers. The sign caused traffic chaos, and police attempted to intervene. Sono-Art won the injunction with Supreme Court Justice Cotillo ruling that “Broadway, especially Times Square, is a street of ballyhoo…” Truer words have never been spoken!
The Great Gabbo opened at the Selwyn Theatre on September 12, and later moved to the larger Globe Theatre. Moving to a bigger house kept sales ticking over, and the film continued to play well. It played to sold out houses around the country, occasionally even breaking box office records. The film was later exported to the UK, Korea, and Japan, and a German version was slated in March 1930.
The Great Gabbo opens in silence. We are introduced to Gabbo, who is being helped into his costume by Mary. We immediately see Gabbo’s tyrannical behavior – the coffee is too hot, the coffee is too cold – and Mary can’t do anything right. Gabbo is mercurial, vicious, and mean. Mary is sweet and kind to him, but she’s no pushover. She talks back to Gabbo and threatens to leave.
During the act, we are witness to Gabbo’s skill as a ventriloquist. He smokes and drinks while his puppet, Otto, sings a sweet oom-pa-pah song, "I'm Laughing." Mary drops a tray in the middle of the act and Gabbo is furious. Tired of Gabbo’s fits of rage and abusive behavior, Mary tells Gabbo, “I won’t put up with it anymore… You’re so wrapped up in yourself, it’s always you, you, you.” Gabbo attempts to defend himself, stating that he is focused on the act, and cares only for his career.
Mary genuinely loves Gabbo, but she can no longer cope with his terrible behavior. She finds the courage to leave, and tells Otto as she departs, “I’m sorry to leave you. You’re the only think about him that has a soul, even if you’re made of wood.”
When Mary leaves, Gabbo starts drinking. Otto tells Gabbo, “uh uh uh, you don’t need a drink Gabbo.” Through Otto we witness Gabbo’s split personality. He is outwardly awful and angry, but his tempestuous behavior is just a mask for a tortured artist who longs to be recognized. Later, Gabbo can only express his love for Mary through Otto, using the puppet to shower her with praise and invite her to dinner.
A year later, Gabbo has finally found success and is famous as the “Great Gabbo.” He performs publicity stunts at a large restaurant, where he charms other guests by eating lobster and caviar while Otto sings and cracks jokes. The guests agree that Otto is wonderful, but Gabbo is arrogant and driven by ego. Although Gabbo refers to Otto as his “other half,” the world views them as separate entities.
The Great Gabbo opens in silence. We are introduced to Gabbo, who is being helped into his costume by Mary. We immediately see Gabbo’s tyrannical behavior – the coffee is too hot, the coffee is too cold – and Mary can’t do anything right. Gabbo is mercurial, vicious, and mean. Mary is sweet and kind to him, but she’s no pushover. She talks back to Gabbo and threatens to leave.
During the act, we are witness to Gabbo’s skill as a ventriloquist. He smokes and drinks while his puppet, Otto, sings a sweet oom-pa-pah song, "I'm Laughing." Mary drops a tray in the middle of the act and Gabbo is furious. Tired of Gabbo’s fits of rage and abusive behavior, Mary tells Gabbo, “I won’t put up with it anymore… You’re so wrapped up in yourself, it’s always you, you, you.” Gabbo attempts to defend himself, stating that he is focused on the act, and cares only for his career.
Mary genuinely loves Gabbo, but she can no longer cope with his terrible behavior. She finds the courage to leave, and tells Otto as she departs, “I’m sorry to leave you. You’re the only think about him that has a soul, even if you’re made of wood.”
When Mary leaves, Gabbo starts drinking. Otto tells Gabbo, “uh uh uh, you don’t need a drink Gabbo.” Through Otto we witness Gabbo’s split personality. He is outwardly awful and angry, but his tempestuous behavior is just a mask for a tortured artist who longs to be recognized. Later, Gabbo can only express his love for Mary through Otto, using the puppet to shower her with praise and invite her to dinner.
A year later, Gabbo has finally found success and is famous as the “Great Gabbo.” He performs publicity stunts at a large restaurant, where he charms other guests by eating lobster and caviar while Otto sings and cracks jokes. The guests agree that Otto is wonderful, but Gabbo is arrogant and driven by ego. Although Gabbo refers to Otto as his “other half,” the world views them as separate entities.
At the Manhattan Revue, we are treated to an elaborate stage show. The numbers are filled with large numbers of men and women in gorgeous costumes, singing and dancing on increasingly extravagant sets. The numbers come thick and fast, with wonderful choreography by the innovative Maurice L. Kusell. The dances range from a ballet on point for “I’m in Love With You,” to the fast and flashy tap routine “The New Step,” to the stunning “Web of Love” set on a giant spider web complete with dancers dangling upside down. The revue scenes were originally shot in multicolor, however only the black and white prints have been preserved.
Gabbo finally expresses his love for Mary, without the aid of Otto. It is too late however, as Mary is already married to Frank, her new act partner. Although she will always carry a flame for Gabbo, she loves Frank and is happier with him. The flashy numbers are overlaid onto a close-up of Gabbo having a breakdown. The twirling and grandiose set pieces serve to beautifully illustrate Gabbo’s tormented mind.
Gabbo finally expresses his love for Mary, without the aid of Otto. It is too late however, as Mary is already married to Frank, her new act partner. Although she will always carry a flame for Gabbo, she loves Frank and is happier with him. The flashy numbers are overlaid onto a close-up of Gabbo having a breakdown. The twirling and grandiose set pieces serve to beautifully illustrate Gabbo’s tormented mind.
Mary’s oft-repeated phrase, “We only take out of this life what we put into it,” rings true too late, and Gabbo is doomed to a life of loneliness and misery. Gabbo leaves the theatre, and watches his name being taken down from the marquee. He walks dejected and alone down the street, and the Great Gabbo is no more.
The Great Gabbo received mixed reviews. Photoplay (December 1929) called it a “bitter disappointment” and stated that “lighting and scenario are terrible.” Cine-Mundial (December 1929) thought that although James Cruze and Erich von Stroheim were usually outstanding artists, The Great Gabbo was decidedly a miss. Close Up (January 1930) described the film as “simple” “listless and diffident in construction,” while The Educational Screen (January 1930) felt that the musical scenes “overloaded” the story. Several critics claimed von Stroheim should have directed, and director James Cruze should have played Gabbo.
On the flip side, The Film Daily (Sept 13, 1929) enthusiastically stated that The Great Gabbo “deserves a place right up in the front ranks of the first crop of sophisticated talkers...”and that Cruzes’ “singing and dancing numbers… are the finest we have seen to date.” Motion Picture News (Oct 12, 1929) claimed The Great Gabbo “possesses all the fine points that the average theatregoers look for…”
It is difficult to understand why the critics were so harsh. Although another backstage story, The Great Gabbo has much to commend it. Despite the critics claims to the contrary, the production numbers are an integral part of the story-telling, as well as being visually spectacular and well executed. The performances, particularly by Erich von Stroheim and Betty Compson, are nuanced and affecting. It is also refreshing to see a female character take ownership of her life, putting her own happiness before that of her love interest.
On the flip side, The Film Daily (Sept 13, 1929) enthusiastically stated that The Great Gabbo “deserves a place right up in the front ranks of the first crop of sophisticated talkers...”and that Cruzes’ “singing and dancing numbers… are the finest we have seen to date.” Motion Picture News (Oct 12, 1929) claimed The Great Gabbo “possesses all the fine points that the average theatregoers look for…”
It is difficult to understand why the critics were so harsh. Although another backstage story, The Great Gabbo has much to commend it. Despite the critics claims to the contrary, the production numbers are an integral part of the story-telling, as well as being visually spectacular and well executed. The performances, particularly by Erich von Stroheim and Betty Compson, are nuanced and affecting. It is also refreshing to see a female character take ownership of her life, putting her own happiness before that of her love interest.
Picture Play (Dec 1929)
Erich von Stroheim was an influential director and actor who started out in Hollywood as an extra and set dresser. Like his character, von Stroheim had a reputation for being tyrannical, exacting, and extravagant, often bristling against the Hollywood studio system. His credits include Greed (1924), The Merry Widow (1925), and The Wedding March (1928). As an actor he appeared in over seventy films and was nominated for an Academy Award for his performance in Sunset Boulevard (1950). He won a BAFTA for services to film as a director and actor in 1954.
At the age of 16, Betty Compson was touring as a violin soloist on the vaudeville circuit. She went on to become a talented and popular actress, appearing in over two hundred films including Street Girl, On with the Show, The Time, The Place and the Girl, and The Show of Shows. Despite her successes, including being nominated for an Academy Award for her role in The Barker (1928), Compson was considered “old” by the age of 40, and throughout the 1930s her roles became increasingly smaller.
The music by Lynn Cowan, Paul Titsworth, Donald McNamee, King Zany, and Howard Jackson, is well done. Although the songs were dismissed by the critics, the two theme songs “I’m in Love With You,” and “Web of Love,” were best-sellers.
The strangest aspect of The Great Gabbo is the ventriloquist’s doll, Otto. He may be sweet and funny, but he’s creepy looking. Blogger Elizabeth A. Kingsley writes The Great Gabbo was the “first “deranged ventriloquist” film,” and it’s easy to see why filmmakers later reversed Hecht’s story and made the doll the agent of evil.
At the age of 16, Betty Compson was touring as a violin soloist on the vaudeville circuit. She went on to become a talented and popular actress, appearing in over two hundred films including Street Girl, On with the Show, The Time, The Place and the Girl, and The Show of Shows. Despite her successes, including being nominated for an Academy Award for her role in The Barker (1928), Compson was considered “old” by the age of 40, and throughout the 1930s her roles became increasingly smaller.
The music by Lynn Cowan, Paul Titsworth, Donald McNamee, King Zany, and Howard Jackson, is well done. Although the songs were dismissed by the critics, the two theme songs “I’m in Love With You,” and “Web of Love,” were best-sellers.
The strangest aspect of The Great Gabbo is the ventriloquist’s doll, Otto. He may be sweet and funny, but he’s creepy looking. Blogger Elizabeth A. Kingsley writes The Great Gabbo was the “first “deranged ventriloquist” film,” and it’s easy to see why filmmakers later reversed Hecht’s story and made the doll the agent of evil.
Picture Play (Dec 1929)
The Great Gabbo is undeniably one of the stronger musicals of 1929. The Film Daily (September 13, 1929) rightfully stated that The Great Gabbo
deserves a place right up in the front ranks of the first crop of sophisticated talkers and, in the progressiveness of its treatment, is another manifestation of the fact that the silent drama is gone, forever and forever and a day.”
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A couple-swapping comedy featuring a concert pianist.
A still featured in Picture Play Magazine, October 1929
Date of Release: June 29, 1929
Studio: Paramount Famous Lasky Corp
Director: Victor Schertzinger
Screenplay: Louise Long, Melville Baker, Richard H. Digges Jr.
Music: Leo Robin, Victor Schertzinger
Leading Actors: Adolphe Menjou (Paul de Remy), Fay Compton (Marie de Remy), Miriam Seegar (Delphine Martin), John Miljan (Dr. Martin), Joan Standing (Miss Weller), Robert Wayne (Levisohn), Russ Powell (Joe), Billie Bennett (Jane), Jacques Vanaire (Valet)
Studio: Paramount Famous Lasky Corp
Director: Victor Schertzinger
Screenplay: Louise Long, Melville Baker, Richard H. Digges Jr.
Music: Leo Robin, Victor Schertzinger
Leading Actors: Adolphe Menjou (Paul de Remy), Fay Compton (Marie de Remy), Miriam Seegar (Delphine Martin), John Miljan (Dr. Martin), Joan Standing (Miss Weller), Robert Wayne (Levisohn), Russ Powell (Joe), Billie Bennett (Jane), Jacques Vanaire (Valet)
Fashions in Love was the film version of Hermann Bahr’s highly acclaimed play The Concert. The play opened on Broadway in 1910 and played 264 performances.
As described by Variety, the plot centered around a “temperamental musician, the idol of women who gets way with anything but depends on his wife for everything.” The pianist organizes a “private concert,” or weekend away, with his new girlfriend, only to discover his wife, and girlfriend’s husband, are along for the ride. To the surprise of the pianist, the jilted pair declare their love. Eventually all return happily to their spouses.
The storyline received mixed reviews, but the critics loved Fashions in Love. The Educational Screen (September 1929) called it “A worthy screening of the stage original,” while Motion Picture News stated, it “brings the laughs in good measure."
The reviewers unanimously agreed that Adolphe Manjou had triumphed in his first talkie. The Film Daily stated “Menjou scores a personal triumph, and comes through… with flying colors and lots to spare.” The Educational Screen and Picture Play Magazine both declared the performance to be one his best.
Menjou started out as an extra and went on to become a highly celebrated dapper leading man of silent and sound films. He appeared in nearly 150 films and in 1931 was nominated for an Academy Award (Best Actor in a Leading Role) for The Front Page (1931). His autobiography, It Took Nine Tailors, was published in 1948. Manjou's film credits include A Farewell to Arms (1932), Gold Diggers of 1935 (1935), The Goldwyn Follies (1938), and Pollyanna (1960).
The other leads, Fay Compton, Miriam Seegar, and John Miljan, generally received positive reviews. English-born Fay Compton came from a theatrical family and was herself a prominent stage and screen actress. She performed in both contemporary and classic plays and appeared in over 80 films and television shows. Compton’s screen credits include Strauss’ Great Waltz (1934), The Life and Adventures if Nicholas Nickleby (1947), Laughter in Paradise (1951), Othello (1952), various series featuring plays for television, and I Start Counting (1970).
English-born Miriam Seegar started out as a stage actress and appeared in 17 Hollywood films. She retired in 1933 after marriage. She was one of the last surviving silent film stars when she died at the age of 103 in 2011.
John Miljan was a highly prolific actor with a successful career playing villains. He appeared in over 200 films and television shows, and his credits include Innocents of Paris (1929), Untamed (1929), Devil-May-Care (1929), Show Girl in Hollywood (1930), The Ghost Walks (1934), and The Ten Commandments (1956).
Director Victor Schertzinger also received critical praise. He was a multi-talented and highly prolific musician, composer, director and writer. After an illustrious start as a child prodigy on the violin, Schertzinger went on to become an influential Hollywood player. Reportedly one of the first people to compose a score for film, he also wrote dozens of songs including “Tangerine,” “Dream Lover,” “Paris,” and “Marquita.” Schertzinger directed 90 films including Paramount on Parade (1930), The Mikado (1939), and Road to Zanzibar (1941).
Unusually for this period the leading script writer was a woman, Louise Long. She wrote 18 screenplays between 1926 and 1933, and appeared in three films. Unfortunately, there is scant information about her currently available.
The critics did not mention the music, except for the fact that it was poorly recorded. Fashions in Love featured two songs, “Delphine” and “I Still Believe in You” by Schertzinger and Leo Robin.
Fashions in Love opened to strong houses, but the numbers quickly dwindled.
Although not lost, the reels currently held at UCLA are significantly damaged and not watchable.
As described by Variety, the plot centered around a “temperamental musician, the idol of women who gets way with anything but depends on his wife for everything.” The pianist organizes a “private concert,” or weekend away, with his new girlfriend, only to discover his wife, and girlfriend’s husband, are along for the ride. To the surprise of the pianist, the jilted pair declare their love. Eventually all return happily to their spouses.
The storyline received mixed reviews, but the critics loved Fashions in Love. The Educational Screen (September 1929) called it “A worthy screening of the stage original,” while Motion Picture News stated, it “brings the laughs in good measure."
The reviewers unanimously agreed that Adolphe Manjou had triumphed in his first talkie. The Film Daily stated “Menjou scores a personal triumph, and comes through… with flying colors and lots to spare.” The Educational Screen and Picture Play Magazine both declared the performance to be one his best.
Menjou started out as an extra and went on to become a highly celebrated dapper leading man of silent and sound films. He appeared in nearly 150 films and in 1931 was nominated for an Academy Award (Best Actor in a Leading Role) for The Front Page (1931). His autobiography, It Took Nine Tailors, was published in 1948. Manjou's film credits include A Farewell to Arms (1932), Gold Diggers of 1935 (1935), The Goldwyn Follies (1938), and Pollyanna (1960).
The other leads, Fay Compton, Miriam Seegar, and John Miljan, generally received positive reviews. English-born Fay Compton came from a theatrical family and was herself a prominent stage and screen actress. She performed in both contemporary and classic plays and appeared in over 80 films and television shows. Compton’s screen credits include Strauss’ Great Waltz (1934), The Life and Adventures if Nicholas Nickleby (1947), Laughter in Paradise (1951), Othello (1952), various series featuring plays for television, and I Start Counting (1970).
English-born Miriam Seegar started out as a stage actress and appeared in 17 Hollywood films. She retired in 1933 after marriage. She was one of the last surviving silent film stars when she died at the age of 103 in 2011.
John Miljan was a highly prolific actor with a successful career playing villains. He appeared in over 200 films and television shows, and his credits include Innocents of Paris (1929), Untamed (1929), Devil-May-Care (1929), Show Girl in Hollywood (1930), The Ghost Walks (1934), and The Ten Commandments (1956).
Director Victor Schertzinger also received critical praise. He was a multi-talented and highly prolific musician, composer, director and writer. After an illustrious start as a child prodigy on the violin, Schertzinger went on to become an influential Hollywood player. Reportedly one of the first people to compose a score for film, he also wrote dozens of songs including “Tangerine,” “Dream Lover,” “Paris,” and “Marquita.” Schertzinger directed 90 films including Paramount on Parade (1930), The Mikado (1939), and Road to Zanzibar (1941).
Unusually for this period the leading script writer was a woman, Louise Long. She wrote 18 screenplays between 1926 and 1933, and appeared in three films. Unfortunately, there is scant information about her currently available.
The critics did not mention the music, except for the fact that it was poorly recorded. Fashions in Love featured two songs, “Delphine” and “I Still Believe in You” by Schertzinger and Leo Robin.
Fashions in Love opened to strong houses, but the numbers quickly dwindled.
Although not lost, the reels currently held at UCLA are significantly damaged and not watchable.
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A touching backstage drama with songs.
Hal Skelly and Nancy Carroll, Screenland, Nov 1929
Date of Release: Sept 7, 1929
Studio: Paramount
Director: John Cromwell
Screenplay: Benjamin Glazer, George Manker Walters, Julian Johnson
Music: Sam Coslow, Walter Donaldson, Annie Fortesque Harrison, Maude Nugent, Leo Robin, Richard A. Whiting
Choreographer: Earl Lindsay
Leading Actors: Hal Skelly ([Ralph] "Skid" Johnson), Nancy Carroll (Bonny [Lee] King), Dorothy Revier (Sylvia Marco), Ralph Theadore (Harvey Howell), Charles Brown (Lefty), Al St. John (Bozo), May Boley (Gussie), Oscar Levant (Jerry), Gladys Du Bois (Miss Sherman), James Quinn (Jimmy), James Farley (Champ Melvin), George Irving (Minister), Thelma McNeal (Gilded girl, "Lady of India"), John Cromwell (Doorkeeper), Edward Sutherland (Theater attendant), Amazon Chorus Girls: Gordona Bennet, Miss La Reno, Cora Beach Shumway, Charlotte Ogden, Kay Deslys, Madga Blom
The stage play Burlesque, written by Arthur Hopkins and George Manker Watters, premiered on Broadway in September 1927. It ran for 372 performances and became the basis for three movie musicals — The Dance of Life (1929), Swing High, Swing Low (1937) and When My Baby Smiles at Me (1948). The play was revived on Broadway, starring Bert Lahr, in 1946.
Paramount opted to change the title to The Dance of Life, as they were concerned that the fading popularity of burlesque would keep audiences away.
Screenland (Feb 1930) reported that The Dance of Life was made “under trying conditions.” The new Paramount sound-proof studio had “burned” the day after it was completed, and as a result the cast and crew had to work through the night, often until dawn, to avoid the noise of car traffic ruining the shots.
Studio: Paramount
Director: John Cromwell
Screenplay: Benjamin Glazer, George Manker Walters, Julian Johnson
Music: Sam Coslow, Walter Donaldson, Annie Fortesque Harrison, Maude Nugent, Leo Robin, Richard A. Whiting
Choreographer: Earl Lindsay
Leading Actors: Hal Skelly ([Ralph] "Skid" Johnson), Nancy Carroll (Bonny [Lee] King), Dorothy Revier (Sylvia Marco), Ralph Theadore (Harvey Howell), Charles Brown (Lefty), Al St. John (Bozo), May Boley (Gussie), Oscar Levant (Jerry), Gladys Du Bois (Miss Sherman), James Quinn (Jimmy), James Farley (Champ Melvin), George Irving (Minister), Thelma McNeal (Gilded girl, "Lady of India"), John Cromwell (Doorkeeper), Edward Sutherland (Theater attendant), Amazon Chorus Girls: Gordona Bennet, Miss La Reno, Cora Beach Shumway, Charlotte Ogden, Kay Deslys, Madga Blom
The stage play Burlesque, written by Arthur Hopkins and George Manker Watters, premiered on Broadway in September 1927. It ran for 372 performances and became the basis for three movie musicals — The Dance of Life (1929), Swing High, Swing Low (1937) and When My Baby Smiles at Me (1948). The play was revived on Broadway, starring Bert Lahr, in 1946.
Paramount opted to change the title to The Dance of Life, as they were concerned that the fading popularity of burlesque would keep audiences away.
Screenland (Feb 1930) reported that The Dance of Life was made “under trying conditions.” The new Paramount sound-proof studio had “burned” the day after it was completed, and as a result the cast and crew had to work through the night, often until dawn, to avoid the noise of car traffic ruining the shots.
Theatre advertisements (Oct 12, 1929)
The film promoted itself as a “Great Revue Romance.” As reported in Motion Picture News (Oct 12, 1929) several theatres used live performers dancing in the windows of the theatre to attract pundits. At the Florida Theatre in Jacksonville, the spectacle was complete with a Victrola attached to a loudspeaker that “could be heard for blocks.” The stunt proved so popular on its first day that police had to be called in to keep the crowd moving. On the second day, the enthusiastic crowds cracked the glass window!
The promotions paid off, and The Dance of Life opened to strong audiences and rave reviews. The Film Daily (Aug 18, 1929) wrote “A finely executed drama of the show world.” Picture Play (Nov 1929) claimed the film would “rank with the finest of the new season.” The Education Screen (Oct 1929) enthusiastically agreed, “Elaborate and super sophisticated backstage story… One of the best of its breed to date.”
The critics were right. Some troubling gender politics aside, the story is touching and tragic and a far cry from the fluff of earlier backstage musicals. The plot centers around an excellent clown, Skid Johnson (Hal Skelley) and a mediocre dancer Bonny King (Nancy Carroll), who finding themselves both out of work pair up as a duo. They land a job in a mediocre burlesque troupe and eventually fall in love. To avoid Bonny being fired from the show, the pair decide to get married. Bonny soon realizes Skid is an alcoholic, and determines to make a better life for him. Skid is picked up by Ziegfeld to join his Broadway show, and Skid abandons Bonny for the glitz and glamor of Broadway. Bonny is about to re-marry, this time a loving and devoted millionaire, and realizing Skid needs her, gives up a life of luxury and comfort to stay with him.
Nancy Carroll received universally good notices for her performance as Bonny. The Film Daily (Aug 1929) wrote Carroll “emerges with flying colors,” and The Educational Screen stated that her acting was the best feature of the film. Her singing and dancing skills come across as mediocre in the film, but her straight scenes are genuinely affecting. It is easy to see why audiences of the day loved her, and that Carroll reportedly received the most fan mail of any Paramount starlet. In 1929, Carroll also appeared in Sweetie and Close Harmony.
The real star of the show is Hal Skelly, reprising the role he played on Broadway. It was considered his best role, and he shines as the tragic clown who cannot control his alcoholism. Really only at the beginning of a promising film career, which also included Behind the Make-Up (1930), and The Struggle (1931), Skelly was killed in an accident when his car was crossing a railroad track.
Although rarely mentioned by the critics, another standout performance was by Dorothy Revier, playing the wisecracking buxom Sylvia Marco. Revier was a classically trained dancer I imagine being in an older woman in Hollywood is the only reason her career didn’t last long beyond the silent era. Her comic timing, witty line delivery, and screen presence are excellent.
Although not the driving force of the story, The Dance of Life has several song and dance numbers. Unlike other hit songs from this period which tended to be upbeat jazz numbers, “True Blue Lou” was a plaintive ballad. Delivered with heart breaking sincerity by Skelly in full clown make-up, the number foreshadows Bonny’s devotion to Skid, and is a highlight of the film.
The promotions paid off, and The Dance of Life opened to strong audiences and rave reviews. The Film Daily (Aug 18, 1929) wrote “A finely executed drama of the show world.” Picture Play (Nov 1929) claimed the film would “rank with the finest of the new season.” The Education Screen (Oct 1929) enthusiastically agreed, “Elaborate and super sophisticated backstage story… One of the best of its breed to date.”
The critics were right. Some troubling gender politics aside, the story is touching and tragic and a far cry from the fluff of earlier backstage musicals. The plot centers around an excellent clown, Skid Johnson (Hal Skelley) and a mediocre dancer Bonny King (Nancy Carroll), who finding themselves both out of work pair up as a duo. They land a job in a mediocre burlesque troupe and eventually fall in love. To avoid Bonny being fired from the show, the pair decide to get married. Bonny soon realizes Skid is an alcoholic, and determines to make a better life for him. Skid is picked up by Ziegfeld to join his Broadway show, and Skid abandons Bonny for the glitz and glamor of Broadway. Bonny is about to re-marry, this time a loving and devoted millionaire, and realizing Skid needs her, gives up a life of luxury and comfort to stay with him.
Nancy Carroll received universally good notices for her performance as Bonny. The Film Daily (Aug 1929) wrote Carroll “emerges with flying colors,” and The Educational Screen stated that her acting was the best feature of the film. Her singing and dancing skills come across as mediocre in the film, but her straight scenes are genuinely affecting. It is easy to see why audiences of the day loved her, and that Carroll reportedly received the most fan mail of any Paramount starlet. In 1929, Carroll also appeared in Sweetie and Close Harmony.
The real star of the show is Hal Skelly, reprising the role he played on Broadway. It was considered his best role, and he shines as the tragic clown who cannot control his alcoholism. Really only at the beginning of a promising film career, which also included Behind the Make-Up (1930), and The Struggle (1931), Skelly was killed in an accident when his car was crossing a railroad track.
Although rarely mentioned by the critics, another standout performance was by Dorothy Revier, playing the wisecracking buxom Sylvia Marco. Revier was a classically trained dancer I imagine being in an older woman in Hollywood is the only reason her career didn’t last long beyond the silent era. Her comic timing, witty line delivery, and screen presence are excellent.
Although not the driving force of the story, The Dance of Life has several song and dance numbers. Unlike other hit songs from this period which tended to be upbeat jazz numbers, “True Blue Lou” was a plaintive ballad. Delivered with heart breaking sincerity by Skelly in full clown make-up, the number foreshadows Bonny’s devotion to Skid, and is a highlight of the film.
Lavish costumes as featured in Picture Play (Dec, 1929)
When Skid moves to Broadway we are treated to an eight minute song and dance, “The Ladies of the Dance" and "The Flippity Flop" from the Ziegfeld Follies. The grandiose sets and lavish costumes are spectacular, and it is a real shame the color prints have been lost. In other revue scenes, the awful costumes and average dancing highlight the mediocrity of the small-town burlesque shows.
Even without the production numbers, The Dance of Life still holds up as a strong drama. Director John Cromwell went on to become a prominent director with a career spanning over forty years. In that time he directed nearly fifty films including Close Harmony (1929), Dream Too Much (1935), The Prisoner of Zenda (1937), Anna and the King of Diam (1946) and The Goddess (1958). During the McCarthy era, Cromwell returned to New York, and won a Tony Award for his performance in Point of No Return (1952). He is the father of actor James Cromwell.
The Dance of Life is available through the Internet Archive and on YouTube.
The Dance of Life is available through the Internet Archive and on YouTube.
- Published on
Can't sing? Can't dance? That's entertainment!
Screenland, Sept 1929
Release Date: June 30, 1929
Studio: First National
Director: Mervyn LeRoy
Writers: Monte Katterjohn, Humphrey Pearson, Paul Perez
Choreography: Larry Caballos
Costumes: Max Rée
Music: Al Bryan, Harry Akst, Grant Clarke, George W. Meyer
Cast: Alice White (Delight Foster), Charles Delaney (Billy Buvanny), Fred Kohler (Percé Gessant), Tom Dugan (Scotty), Bodil Rosing (Sarah Durgen), Sally Eilers (Navarre King), Marion Byron (Florine Chandler), Jocelyn Lee (Blossom Royale), Louis Natheaux (Gus Brand), Maurice Black (Nick)
Another backstage musical and vehicle for Alice White, Broadway Babies was loosely based on the short story “Broadway Musketeers” by Jay Gelzer.
Similarly to Show Girl, the critics were not enamored with Broadway Babies. The Film Daily (June 25, 1929) commented that the film was “A rather obvious story of life as seen from the chorus line.” Educational Screen (September 1929) stated it was “Lively but cheap. Another contribution to bad taste.” Meanwhile Variety (June 26, 1929) claimed the film “does not even contain a suggestive gesture,” and that the camera frequently cut off the limbs of the dancers.
The reviewers all generally agreed that despite its flaws, the film was fun entertainment. The audiences felt the same way and, despite a lukewarm opening, Broadway Babies played to good houses — particularly in regional areas.
The entertainment factor fulfilled director Mervyn LeRoy’s fervent goal that movies be just that: entertaining. LeRoy started out in vaudeville before moving to film where he worked in a variety of departments until he became a writer and actor. Under the guidance of Cecile B. DeMille, LeRoy became a director and went on to direct a variety of well-received films including Show Girl in Hollywood (1930), Little Caeser (1931), Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933), Madame Curie (1943), Rose Marie (1954) and Gypsy (1962).
The average script can be attributed to Monte Katterjohn, who predominantly only wrote during the silent era.
Humphrey Pearson contributed dialogue to the film. He was a prolific writer whose work appeared on both stage and film. In under seven years he wrote over twenty scripts including Hot Stuff (1929), They Never Grow Up (1930), and Face in the Sky (1933). The 1929 musical On With the Show was based on his play Shoestring. Still only on the cusp of a promising career, Pearson was tragically shot dead in his home in what was deemed an accident.
Modern day viewers are far more generous with their criticism of Broadway Babies. Film historian Edwin M. Bradley describes it as “very watchable.” The reviews on IMDb call the film a “terrific little musical,” “a treat” and “highly, highly recommended.” Jeff Cohen at Vitaphone Varities writes “Best of all, by today’s standards, Broadway Babies doesn’t dull the senses – it excites them.”
Studio: First National
Director: Mervyn LeRoy
Writers: Monte Katterjohn, Humphrey Pearson, Paul Perez
Choreography: Larry Caballos
Costumes: Max Rée
Music: Al Bryan, Harry Akst, Grant Clarke, George W. Meyer
Cast: Alice White (Delight Foster), Charles Delaney (Billy Buvanny), Fred Kohler (Percé Gessant), Tom Dugan (Scotty), Bodil Rosing (Sarah Durgen), Sally Eilers (Navarre King), Marion Byron (Florine Chandler), Jocelyn Lee (Blossom Royale), Louis Natheaux (Gus Brand), Maurice Black (Nick)
Another backstage musical and vehicle for Alice White, Broadway Babies was loosely based on the short story “Broadway Musketeers” by Jay Gelzer.
Similarly to Show Girl, the critics were not enamored with Broadway Babies. The Film Daily (June 25, 1929) commented that the film was “A rather obvious story of life as seen from the chorus line.” Educational Screen (September 1929) stated it was “Lively but cheap. Another contribution to bad taste.” Meanwhile Variety (June 26, 1929) claimed the film “does not even contain a suggestive gesture,” and that the camera frequently cut off the limbs of the dancers.
The reviewers all generally agreed that despite its flaws, the film was fun entertainment. The audiences felt the same way and, despite a lukewarm opening, Broadway Babies played to good houses — particularly in regional areas.
The entertainment factor fulfilled director Mervyn LeRoy’s fervent goal that movies be just that: entertaining. LeRoy started out in vaudeville before moving to film where he worked in a variety of departments until he became a writer and actor. Under the guidance of Cecile B. DeMille, LeRoy became a director and went on to direct a variety of well-received films including Show Girl in Hollywood (1930), Little Caeser (1931), Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933), Madame Curie (1943), Rose Marie (1954) and Gypsy (1962).
The average script can be attributed to Monte Katterjohn, who predominantly only wrote during the silent era.
Humphrey Pearson contributed dialogue to the film. He was a prolific writer whose work appeared on both stage and film. In under seven years he wrote over twenty scripts including Hot Stuff (1929), They Never Grow Up (1930), and Face in the Sky (1933). The 1929 musical On With the Show was based on his play Shoestring. Still only on the cusp of a promising career, Pearson was tragically shot dead in his home in what was deemed an accident.
Modern day viewers are far more generous with their criticism of Broadway Babies. Film historian Edwin M. Bradley describes it as “very watchable.” The reviews on IMDb call the film a “terrific little musical,” “a treat” and “highly, highly recommended.” Jeff Cohen at Vitaphone Varities writes “Best of all, by today’s standards, Broadway Babies doesn’t dull the senses – it excites them.”
Though his name is not well known today, Larry Ceballos was an innovative choreographer of stage and screen who worked in Hollywood from 1927 until 1951. His credits include ten Broadway shows and over sixty films including On With the Show! (1929), Honky Tonk (1929), No, No, Nanette (1930), Redheads on Parade (1935), Follies Girl (1943) and an episode of The Colgate Comedy Hour (1951) which was a tribute to vaudeville.
Ceballos was the head of dance at Warner Bros and First National from its early talkie days.
Many sources cite Busby Berkley and Fred Astaire for changing the way dance was filmed. In the few years before either arrived on the scene, Ceballos was creating dance sequences that were innovative and often well received by the critics and loved by audiences. In 1930 a feature article (as referenced on Vitaphone Varieties) describes how Ceballos understood that in order for the camera to effectively capture the chorus line on camera, it was better to stage the dancers vertically instead of horizontally.
Ceballos advocated for a variety of camera angles in filming his sequences, such as from the perspective of the orchestra pit, the top of the curtain, and from the follow spot. Although a live theatre audience would not be able to see from all those angles, Ceballos understood that film requires “greater realism than the stage.” In increasing the shots available to the audience, Ceballos aimed to create a more authentic viewing experience for the audience. It would be fascinating to see what Ceballos would come up with given today’s technology!
As she did for Show Girl, Alice White received mixed reviews. The critics found her to be a fine enough actress, but could not understand how an actress with no singing or dancing ability kept getting cast in musical comedies. After watching the clips included in this post, I'm unfortunately inclined to agree.
Ceballos was the head of dance at Warner Bros and First National from its early talkie days.
Many sources cite Busby Berkley and Fred Astaire for changing the way dance was filmed. In the few years before either arrived on the scene, Ceballos was creating dance sequences that were innovative and often well received by the critics and loved by audiences. In 1930 a feature article (as referenced on Vitaphone Varieties) describes how Ceballos understood that in order for the camera to effectively capture the chorus line on camera, it was better to stage the dancers vertically instead of horizontally.
Ceballos advocated for a variety of camera angles in filming his sequences, such as from the perspective of the orchestra pit, the top of the curtain, and from the follow spot. Although a live theatre audience would not be able to see from all those angles, Ceballos understood that film requires “greater realism than the stage.” In increasing the shots available to the audience, Ceballos aimed to create a more authentic viewing experience for the audience. It would be fascinating to see what Ceballos would come up with given today’s technology!
As she did for Show Girl, Alice White received mixed reviews. The critics found her to be a fine enough actress, but could not understand how an actress with no singing or dancing ability kept getting cast in musical comedies. After watching the clips included in this post, I'm unfortunately inclined to agree.
Broadway Babies contained three songs, “Broadway Baby Dolls” and “Jig, Jig, Jigaloo,” and “Wishing and Waiting for Love.” The score was composed by Tin Pan Alley composers Al Bryan, Harry Akst, Grant Clarke, and George W. Meyer.
Al Bryan, also known as Alfred Bryan, was a composer for stage and screen. He frequently collaborated with Fred Fisher, and some of his well-known songs include “Come Josephine in my Flying Machine,” the popular antiwar song “I Didn’t Raise My Boy to be a Soldier,” and “Oui, Oui, Marie.” He was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970.
Harry Akst was a talented pianist and a prolific composer. Collaborating with Sam Lewis, Irving Berlin, and Benny Davis, Akst wrote hundreds of songs. Some of his well-known compositions include “Am I Blue,” “Baby Face,” “Dinah,” and “In the Land of Let’s Pretend.” Akst is credited with discovering Judy Garland whilst he was on one of many tours. He was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1983.
Grant Clarke was a charter member of ASCAP and wrote for stage and screen. He contributed lyrics to The Jazz Singer and, in collaboration with a host of other composers composed “My Sahara Rose,” “Ragtime Cowboy Joe,” and “Second Hand Rose.”
George W. Meyer was a charter member of ASCAP, and for a considerable time also served as its director. His hit songs include “For My and My Gal,” “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep” and “Under my Umbrella.”
Unfortunately I had trouble tracking down a copy of Broadway Babies. It has been released on Blu-Ray, but not on DVD. According to Project Gutenburg, it has been aired on television and cable. The film can also be viewed at the UCLA Film and Television Archive.
Al Bryan, also known as Alfred Bryan, was a composer for stage and screen. He frequently collaborated with Fred Fisher, and some of his well-known songs include “Come Josephine in my Flying Machine,” the popular antiwar song “I Didn’t Raise My Boy to be a Soldier,” and “Oui, Oui, Marie.” He was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970.
Harry Akst was a talented pianist and a prolific composer. Collaborating with Sam Lewis, Irving Berlin, and Benny Davis, Akst wrote hundreds of songs. Some of his well-known compositions include “Am I Blue,” “Baby Face,” “Dinah,” and “In the Land of Let’s Pretend.” Akst is credited with discovering Judy Garland whilst he was on one of many tours. He was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1983.
Grant Clarke was a charter member of ASCAP and wrote for stage and screen. He contributed lyrics to The Jazz Singer and, in collaboration with a host of other composers composed “My Sahara Rose,” “Ragtime Cowboy Joe,” and “Second Hand Rose.”
George W. Meyer was a charter member of ASCAP, and for a considerable time also served as its director. His hit songs include “For My and My Gal,” “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep” and “Under my Umbrella.”
Unfortunately I had trouble tracking down a copy of Broadway Babies. It has been released on Blu-Ray, but not on DVD. According to Project Gutenburg, it has been aired on television and cable. The film can also be viewed at the UCLA Film and Television Archive.
- Published on
The 1929 film version of Show Boat is the first of three movie musicals based on Edna Ferber’s best-selling novel. It is the least popular of the film versions, and separate to the ground-breaking Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II musical.
Date of Release: April 17, 1929
Studio: Universal
Director: Harry Pollard
Screenplay: Charles Kenyon, Edward J. Montagne, Harry Pollard, Tom Reed
Music: Gene Austin, Joseph Cherniavsky, Leo Friedman, Oscar Hammerstein II, Gene Jefferson, Jerome Kern, William H. Myddleton, Maceo Pinkard, Billy Rose, Nathaniel Shilkret, P. G. Wodehouse
Lead Players:
Prologue: Otis Harlan, Helen Morgan, Jules Bledsoe, Tess "Aunt Jemima" Gardella, The Jubilee Singers, Carl Laemmle, Florenz Ziegfeld
Main Feature: Laura La Plante, Joseph Schildkraut, Otis Harlan, Emily Fitzroy, Alma Rubens, Elsie Bartlett, Jack McDonald, Jane La Verne, Neely Edwards, Theodore Lorch, Stepin Fetchit, Gertrude Howard, Ralph Yearsley, George Chesebro, Harry Holden, Max Asher, Jim Coleman, Carl Herlinger, The Billbrew Chorus
Date of Release: April 17, 1929
Studio: Universal
Director: Harry Pollard
Screenplay: Charles Kenyon, Edward J. Montagne, Harry Pollard, Tom Reed
Music: Gene Austin, Joseph Cherniavsky, Leo Friedman, Oscar Hammerstein II, Gene Jefferson, Jerome Kern, William H. Myddleton, Maceo Pinkard, Billy Rose, Nathaniel Shilkret, P. G. Wodehouse
Lead Players:
Prologue: Otis Harlan, Helen Morgan, Jules Bledsoe, Tess "Aunt Jemima" Gardella, The Jubilee Singers, Carl Laemmle, Florenz Ziegfeld
Main Feature: Laura La Plante, Joseph Schildkraut, Otis Harlan, Emily Fitzroy, Alma Rubens, Elsie Bartlett, Jack McDonald, Jane La Verne, Neely Edwards, Theodore Lorch, Stepin Fetchit, Gertrude Howard, Ralph Yearsley, George Chesebro, Harry Holden, Max Asher, Jim Coleman, Carl Herlinger, The Billbrew Chorus
The novel Show Boat, written by Edna Ferber, was published in 1926. Following on the heels of Ferber’s Pulitzer winner novel So Big, Show Boat became a best-seller, and held the number one spot on the Best Seller’s List for twelve weeks.
Ferber was a highly prolific and influential writer who, in her lifetime, published twelve novels, twelve short story collections, nine plays, and two autobiographies. She was praised for her ability to capture the stories and lives of American people, and the American spirit. Ferber is a fascinating writer, and deserves far more space than I can give her here, (the Jewish Women’s Archive has an excellent account of her life and work).
The novel tells the inter-generational story of life aboard a show boat on the Mississippi River between 1850 and 1920. In response to the novel, the New York Times described Ferber as “one of those who are reviving first-rate story-telling.”
Within a year, the film rights had been granted to Universal, and the stage rights to Florenz Ziegfeld. Universal began production on the film as a silent picture. Whilst the movie was in production, Ziegfeld’s stage show opened on Broadway and became a smash hit.
Ferber was a highly prolific and influential writer who, in her lifetime, published twelve novels, twelve short story collections, nine plays, and two autobiographies. She was praised for her ability to capture the stories and lives of American people, and the American spirit. Ferber is a fascinating writer, and deserves far more space than I can give her here, (the Jewish Women’s Archive has an excellent account of her life and work).
The novel tells the inter-generational story of life aboard a show boat on the Mississippi River between 1850 and 1920. In response to the novel, the New York Times described Ferber as “one of those who are reviving first-rate story-telling.”
Within a year, the film rights had been granted to Universal, and the stage rights to Florenz Ziegfeld. Universal began production on the film as a silent picture. Whilst the movie was in production, Ziegfeld’s stage show opened on Broadway and became a smash hit.
Ziegfeld’s Broadway musical, Show Boat, opened in 1927 and revolutionized Broadway. With book and music by Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II, Show Boat was the first “integrated musical” — whereby plot, character, song and dance were developments of each other and came together to tell a whole story.
A break from the fluff and light humor of traditional Broadway shows, Show Boat was revolutionary for its heavy themes, realistically depicting the lives of everyday people, and for featuring actors of color in prominent roles. Show Boat is now considered the first American musical, where musical theater departs from operetta and vaudeville revues. Two movie versions of the Broadway show were made in 1936, and in 1951.
Universal’s film had virtually nothing to do with Ziegfeld’s popular production, however Universal exploited Ziegfeld’s name to sell tickets, and reportedly paid $200,000 for the rights to use the popular score in their film. Variety claimed that “the publicity of the Ziegfeld name” in conjunction with the film was worth more than the film itself. Variety predicted several times that the film was “not expected to affect the pace [box office] of Zieggy’s (sic) production…” To further capitalize on the Broadway show's notoriety, Universal filmed a short sound prologue featuring stars from the original Broadway cast singing songs from the show.
After a lengthy production period, much negotiation between Ziegfeld and Universal, and several re-shoots, the first movie version of Show Boat finally opened in April 1929. The staggered openings around the country were beset with problems. In Washington, Universal faced union troubles when a theatre refused to screen the film without Universal covering the cost of an orchestra in the pit. Union troubles also affected the signage outside the Globe Theater in New York when, just prior to opening, the sheet metal workers and sign painters held a strike over agreements for hanging electrical signs over Broadway theaters.
According to Edwin M. Bradley, unlike the other movie studios, Universal did not have its own chain of theaters, and relied on independent theaters to screen its films. As a result, Universal did all it could to promote Show Boat. In the lead up to the New York opening, Variety reported the presence of a truck equipped with a large phonograph and horn creating a “ballyhoo” down Broadway and blaring the film’s score for all to hear.
A break from the fluff and light humor of traditional Broadway shows, Show Boat was revolutionary for its heavy themes, realistically depicting the lives of everyday people, and for featuring actors of color in prominent roles. Show Boat is now considered the first American musical, where musical theater departs from operetta and vaudeville revues. Two movie versions of the Broadway show were made in 1936, and in 1951.
Universal’s film had virtually nothing to do with Ziegfeld’s popular production, however Universal exploited Ziegfeld’s name to sell tickets, and reportedly paid $200,000 for the rights to use the popular score in their film. Variety claimed that “the publicity of the Ziegfeld name” in conjunction with the film was worth more than the film itself. Variety predicted several times that the film was “not expected to affect the pace [box office] of Zieggy’s (sic) production…” To further capitalize on the Broadway show's notoriety, Universal filmed a short sound prologue featuring stars from the original Broadway cast singing songs from the show.
After a lengthy production period, much negotiation between Ziegfeld and Universal, and several re-shoots, the first movie version of Show Boat finally opened in April 1929. The staggered openings around the country were beset with problems. In Washington, Universal faced union troubles when a theatre refused to screen the film without Universal covering the cost of an orchestra in the pit. Union troubles also affected the signage outside the Globe Theater in New York when, just prior to opening, the sheet metal workers and sign painters held a strike over agreements for hanging electrical signs over Broadway theaters.
According to Edwin M. Bradley, unlike the other movie studios, Universal did not have its own chain of theaters, and relied on independent theaters to screen its films. As a result, Universal did all it could to promote Show Boat. In the lead up to the New York opening, Variety reported the presence of a truck equipped with a large phonograph and horn creating a “ballyhoo” down Broadway and blaring the film’s score for all to hear.
Universal's Show Boat received mixed reviews.Variety (April 24, 1929) said the film “by itself is an excellent picture when 25 minutes shall have been cut” and lamented the “dragginess… through prolonged scenes.” Photoplay (June 1929) wrote that “The weakness…lies in the obvious direction of Harry Pollard,” and overall described the adaptation as lackluster compared to the book.
Mordaunt Hall in his review for the New York Times (April 21, 1929) stated that Show Boat “benefits particularly by the melodies from Florenz Ziegfeld’s stage production,” and that “Fortunately for the picture, it ends with a series of the captivating melodies, which result in one leaving the theatre pardoning some of the boring periods.” He was also critical of the film’s length, and described the story as “frequently maudlin”.
Mordaunt Hall in his review for the New York Times (April 21, 1929) stated that Show Boat “benefits particularly by the melodies from Florenz Ziegfeld’s stage production,” and that “Fortunately for the picture, it ends with a series of the captivating melodies, which result in one leaving the theatre pardoning some of the boring periods.” He was also critical of the film’s length, and described the story as “frequently maudlin”.
Overall, the critics were unimpressed with the performances by the lead actors. Interestingly, lead actor Laura La Plante was dubbed by Eva Olivotti — who according to Photoplay “did it very well, indeed”. In 1929, Photoplay ran an article by Mark Larkin about Hollywood’s open secret of “voice doubling.” The article provided detailed information about which films had dubbed the singing (and instrument playing), and explained that although dubbing was a common practise, it was predicted that dubbing would soon be unnecessary as more film actors learnt to sing and play instruments.
Some of the contemporary reviews are hard to read today, thanks to the racist overtones in the way critics described actors of color — “Bledsoe’s voice registers beautifully and has an appealing quality that is bound to get over with any type of audience.” This racism is also evident in the filmmakers’ decision to remove the presence of interracial marriage, prominent in the novel, from the movie plot.
The prologue also received mixed reviews. Variety described the prologue as “not so nifty in sounding or photography.” Film Daily meanwhile praised the prologue, calling it “One of the best things in its class that has yet been presented in sound shorts.” Mordaunt Hall was similarly praiseworthy, stating that the prologue “starts things in an inspiring fashion.” Film historian Richard Barrios holds a less than favorable opinion of the prologue, stating that “What survives of the prologue is... problematic, historically significant but ultimately, inevitably, beside the point.”
With a drawcard title, Show Boat did relatively well at the box office, though not well enough to cover costs.
According to Bradley, the first movie version of Show Boat was considered lost until Miles Kreuger, historian and musical theater aficionado, tracked down copies for a tribute at MoMA to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the show's opening on Broadway. The restoration involved film reels found in the MGM Archive and, of all places, the Danish Film Archive.
An incomplete VHS copy, transferred from deteriorating reels, is held at the Film and Television Archive at UCLA. The film was aired on Turner Classic Movies in 2009, and, to date, I have not been able to source a legal DVD copy available to purchase.
The clip below contains footage reportedly from 1929. I think the footage is more likely to be from rehearsals in 1927, which according to the Film Study Center at MoMA, was filmed as part of an early sound on film experiment.
Some of the contemporary reviews are hard to read today, thanks to the racist overtones in the way critics described actors of color — “Bledsoe’s voice registers beautifully and has an appealing quality that is bound to get over with any type of audience.” This racism is also evident in the filmmakers’ decision to remove the presence of interracial marriage, prominent in the novel, from the movie plot.
The prologue also received mixed reviews. Variety described the prologue as “not so nifty in sounding or photography.” Film Daily meanwhile praised the prologue, calling it “One of the best things in its class that has yet been presented in sound shorts.” Mordaunt Hall was similarly praiseworthy, stating that the prologue “starts things in an inspiring fashion.” Film historian Richard Barrios holds a less than favorable opinion of the prologue, stating that “What survives of the prologue is... problematic, historically significant but ultimately, inevitably, beside the point.”
With a drawcard title, Show Boat did relatively well at the box office, though not well enough to cover costs.
According to Bradley, the first movie version of Show Boat was considered lost until Miles Kreuger, historian and musical theater aficionado, tracked down copies for a tribute at MoMA to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the show's opening on Broadway. The restoration involved film reels found in the MGM Archive and, of all places, the Danish Film Archive.
An incomplete VHS copy, transferred from deteriorating reels, is held at the Film and Television Archive at UCLA. The film was aired on Turner Classic Movies in 2009, and, to date, I have not been able to source a legal DVD copy available to purchase.
The clip below contains footage reportedly from 1929. I think the footage is more likely to be from rehearsals in 1927, which according to the Film Study Center at MoMA, was filmed as part of an early sound on film experiment.
I would love to see a copy of the 1929 film, especially the prologue, and compare the footage. It is a treat to have access to early Broadway in this way!
- Published on
Program for "My Man". Click image for link.
Date of Release: Dec 15, 1928
Studio: Warner Bros
Director: Archie Mayo
Screenplay: Robert Lord, Mark Canfield, Joe Jackson, James A. Starr
Music: James Hanley, Harry Carroll, Grant Clarke, Mort Dixon, Leo Edwards, Fred Fisher, Oscar Levant, Ballard MacDonald, Blanche Merrill, Channing Pollock, Billy Rose
Leading Actors: Fanny Brice, Guinn Williams, Edna Murphy, Andrés de Segurola, Richard Tucker, Billy Seay, Arthur Hoyt, Ann Brody, Clarissa Selwynn
The Internet Is Really Great
As I near the end of films released in 1929, I’m catching up on a few films I’ve missed from the list. When I first started this project (way back when in 2010), I skipped over films that were lost, or weren’t publicly available. It’s remarkable how much information has been digitized and made available through the internet in the intervening five years.
The Internet Archive is a particularly fascinating place. With a little searching, old issues of film trade mags such as Variety, Film Daily, and PhotoPlay are all available freely online. Even more astonishingly, entire soundtracks of lost films such as My Man have been made available.
A Lost Film
My Man is famously considered a lost film. Wikipedia and IMDB claim, without references, that three of eleven reels still exist at the Associated Artists Productions (AAP) library, however no such library seems to exist. AAP and Warner Bros are now owned by Time Warner (not to be confused with Time Warner Cable), and I have been unable to find information on where or how to access their archives.
The UCLA Film and Television Archive and the Library of Congress, the two largest moving image archives in the USA, do not hold copies of the existing reels.
As My Man was released by Warner Bros, I attempted to track down the reels through them. The Warner Bros. Archives are held at the University of Southern California, but are primarily paper archives, and no film reels are kept in the collection.
Warner Bros now offers Warner Archive Instant, an online subscription-based streaming service for “classic TV and hard-to-find movies” that works similarly to Netflix or HBOGo. My best guess is that Time Warner (who also own Turner Classics and HBO) are holding the entire collection privately in order to be able to release films on their streaming services at a profit. While streaming makes content available to the wider public, not all films are available, and some are only available for a limited time.
Studio: Warner Bros
Director: Archie Mayo
Screenplay: Robert Lord, Mark Canfield, Joe Jackson, James A. Starr
Music: James Hanley, Harry Carroll, Grant Clarke, Mort Dixon, Leo Edwards, Fred Fisher, Oscar Levant, Ballard MacDonald, Blanche Merrill, Channing Pollock, Billy Rose
Leading Actors: Fanny Brice, Guinn Williams, Edna Murphy, Andrés de Segurola, Richard Tucker, Billy Seay, Arthur Hoyt, Ann Brody, Clarissa Selwynn
The Internet Is Really Great
As I near the end of films released in 1929, I’m catching up on a few films I’ve missed from the list. When I first started this project (way back when in 2010), I skipped over films that were lost, or weren’t publicly available. It’s remarkable how much information has been digitized and made available through the internet in the intervening five years.
The Internet Archive is a particularly fascinating place. With a little searching, old issues of film trade mags such as Variety, Film Daily, and PhotoPlay are all available freely online. Even more astonishingly, entire soundtracks of lost films such as My Man have been made available.
A Lost Film
My Man is famously considered a lost film. Wikipedia and IMDB claim, without references, that three of eleven reels still exist at the Associated Artists Productions (AAP) library, however no such library seems to exist. AAP and Warner Bros are now owned by Time Warner (not to be confused with Time Warner Cable), and I have been unable to find information on where or how to access their archives.
The UCLA Film and Television Archive and the Library of Congress, the two largest moving image archives in the USA, do not hold copies of the existing reels.
As My Man was released by Warner Bros, I attempted to track down the reels through them. The Warner Bros. Archives are held at the University of Southern California, but are primarily paper archives, and no film reels are kept in the collection.
Warner Bros now offers Warner Archive Instant, an online subscription-based streaming service for “classic TV and hard-to-find movies” that works similarly to Netflix or HBOGo. My best guess is that Time Warner (who also own Turner Classics and HBO) are holding the entire collection privately in order to be able to release films on their streaming services at a profit. While streaming makes content available to the wider public, not all films are available, and some are only available for a limited time.
Tantilizing stills from "My Man" book released by Photoplay in 1928. Click image for link.
Fragments and Sound Reels
Although the films reels are lost, stills and Vitaphone disks have survived. The English version of Photoplay released a photographic special feature to coincide with the film's release in England. It contains stills from the film, and copies of the book are available from the Fanny Brice Collection, Ebay and Abe Books.
One amazing soul has made the soundtrack available on the Internet Archive. It is not easy to ascertain where this person uploaded the soundtrack from (or with what permissions), but I'm so glad they have. With its awful dialogue and pleasant underscore, the soundtrack is quite amusing to listen to. For the most part, the stilted dialogue segues unnaturally into songs with lines like, “Hey Fanny! Sing us that song you did yesterday!” repeated before every song.
Although the films reels are lost, stills and Vitaphone disks have survived. The English version of Photoplay released a photographic special feature to coincide with the film's release in England. It contains stills from the film, and copies of the book are available from the Fanny Brice Collection, Ebay and Abe Books.
One amazing soul has made the soundtrack available on the Internet Archive. It is not easy to ascertain where this person uploaded the soundtrack from (or with what permissions), but I'm so glad they have. With its awful dialogue and pleasant underscore, the soundtrack is quite amusing to listen to. For the most part, the stilted dialogue segues unnaturally into songs with lines like, “Hey Fanny! Sing us that song you did yesterday!” repeated before every song.
Fanny Brice with a koala. From Photoplay Magazine (Dec, 1928) - click image for link. Photoplay incorrectly calls the koala "a bear" (it's a marsupial). Brice reportedly brought the poor creature to the set of "My Man" and "caused a panic."
Leading Lady - Fanny Brice
My Man was a star vehicle for Broadway star Fanny Brice. She was already well known for her performances in the Ziegfeld Follies, and her signature songs, including “My Man,” “I’d Rather Be Blue Over You,” and “Second-Hand Rosie” all appeared in the film. Although clearly enamored with Fanny Brice’s comedic and singing talent, both Variety and The New York Times were critical of her “Jewishness.” This didn’t stop Brice from being one of the biggest stage stars of her day, and her life was later portrayed in the Barbara Streisand star vehicles, Funny Girl and Funny Lady. A hauntingly beautiful recording of the title song, recorded in 1921 is available at the Library of Congress, and on YouTube. Unfortunately, the film version is not quite as touching as this rendition.
Cast and Crew
Apart from Guinn Williams, who went on to a healthy career in westerns, the rest of the cast faded from Hollywood as talkies gained momentum. Director Archie Mayo and screenwriter Robert Lord, continued to work extensively in Hollywood in genres other than musicals.
Most note-worthy from the cast and crew, apart from Fanny Brice, was screenwriter Mark Canfield, better known as Darryl F. Zanuck. Zanuck left Warner Bros in 1933, co-founded 20th Century Pictures and went on to become one of the greatest producers in Hollywood with over 200 movies to his name.
Music
The musical numbers received universal praise from the critics. Despite the song “I’m an Indian,” a painful reminder of America’s overtly racist past, the music throughout is light-hearted and fun. It’s easy to see why the songs were already audience favorites, and the film’s advertising plays on the their popularity. The score was composed by a large team of established musicians who all went on to become highly successful songwriters for stage and screen. Most of the My Man composers were eventually inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame.
Critical Reception
Although My Man claimed to be a “tense drama, full of tragedy and comedy,” Brice was clearly its only drawcard. Even then, some advertisements encouraged audiences to see the film even if their cinema was not yet equipped for sound. In January 1929, Variety reported that the censors had cut whole sections of dialogue from the film, but “titles bridged the gaps with a certain measure of success, few any the wiser.”
Produced during the awkward transition between silent films and talkies, My Man was not a strong example of the early movie musical. The film was criticized for being too long, and the predictable plot, centered around the trials and tribulations of an aspiring actress working in a costume house, was derided as inane.
The NY Times was critical of the clunky use of sound, and the film’s long length (though at 99 minutes, I wonder what those poor critics would have thought of later musicals which run for over three hours).
Variety called My Man technically “good and smart,” but also lamented its length, and the poor execution of technical elements including sound, scenic composition, and the fact that Brice was likely to only be a “one picture star.”
Finale
Despite the lukewarm critical praise, My Man turned a profit for Warner Bros, and ensured the studio would continue to invest in talking pictures.
My Man was a star vehicle for Broadway star Fanny Brice. She was already well known for her performances in the Ziegfeld Follies, and her signature songs, including “My Man,” “I’d Rather Be Blue Over You,” and “Second-Hand Rosie” all appeared in the film. Although clearly enamored with Fanny Brice’s comedic and singing talent, both Variety and The New York Times were critical of her “Jewishness.” This didn’t stop Brice from being one of the biggest stage stars of her day, and her life was later portrayed in the Barbara Streisand star vehicles, Funny Girl and Funny Lady. A hauntingly beautiful recording of the title song, recorded in 1921 is available at the Library of Congress, and on YouTube. Unfortunately, the film version is not quite as touching as this rendition.
Cast and Crew
Apart from Guinn Williams, who went on to a healthy career in westerns, the rest of the cast faded from Hollywood as talkies gained momentum. Director Archie Mayo and screenwriter Robert Lord, continued to work extensively in Hollywood in genres other than musicals.
Most note-worthy from the cast and crew, apart from Fanny Brice, was screenwriter Mark Canfield, better known as Darryl F. Zanuck. Zanuck left Warner Bros in 1933, co-founded 20th Century Pictures and went on to become one of the greatest producers in Hollywood with over 200 movies to his name.
Music
The musical numbers received universal praise from the critics. Despite the song “I’m an Indian,” a painful reminder of America’s overtly racist past, the music throughout is light-hearted and fun. It’s easy to see why the songs were already audience favorites, and the film’s advertising plays on the their popularity. The score was composed by a large team of established musicians who all went on to become highly successful songwriters for stage and screen. Most of the My Man composers were eventually inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame.
Critical Reception
Although My Man claimed to be a “tense drama, full of tragedy and comedy,” Brice was clearly its only drawcard. Even then, some advertisements encouraged audiences to see the film even if their cinema was not yet equipped for sound. In January 1929, Variety reported that the censors had cut whole sections of dialogue from the film, but “titles bridged the gaps with a certain measure of success, few any the wiser.”
Produced during the awkward transition between silent films and talkies, My Man was not a strong example of the early movie musical. The film was criticized for being too long, and the predictable plot, centered around the trials and tribulations of an aspiring actress working in a costume house, was derided as inane.
The NY Times was critical of the clunky use of sound, and the film’s long length (though at 99 minutes, I wonder what those poor critics would have thought of later musicals which run for over three hours).
Variety called My Man technically “good and smart,” but also lamented its length, and the poor execution of technical elements including sound, scenic composition, and the fact that Brice was likely to only be a “one picture star.”
Finale
Despite the lukewarm critical praise, My Man turned a profit for Warner Bros, and ensured the studio would continue to invest in talking pictures.
- Published on
image from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paris_(1929_film)
Date of Release: Nov 7, 1929
Studio: First National Pictures
Director: Clarence Badger
Screenplay: Hope Loring
Music: Al Bryan, Edgar Leslie, Horatio Nicholls, Eddie Ward
Choreographer: Larry Ceballos (dance director)
Leading Actors: Irene Bordini, Jack Buchanan, Louise Closser Hale, Jason Robards, ZaSu Pitts, Margaret Fielding
Based on the Martin Brown Broadway musical of the same name, Paris is the story of an American art student living in Paris who falls in love with a French actress. She agrees to marry him, but only with his mother’s blessing.
The plot initially sounds like An American in Paris, and interestingly, the original Gershwin symphonic poem was composed in the same year as Brown’s play premiered on Broadway, 1928. It seems stories about American artists falling in love in Paris were very much in vogue in the late 1920s!
Unfortunately, we cannot compare the two films as Paris only survives in fragmentary sound reels at the UCLA Film and Television Archive.
Paris was produced by First National Pictures, an independent movie studio that merged with Warner Bros in 1928. The movie was filmed in black and white with two technicolor (and by most accounts, extravagant and unnecessary), revue scenes. Paris received mixed reviews and was considered a moderate success, playing better overseas where its leading lady, French actress Irene Bordini, was more well known.
Like many other stage to screen adaptations of the period, the Broadway score was largely replaced for the film version. A great shame, as the Broadway show featured songs by Cole Porter including “Let’s Fall in Love”.
The Vitaphone Varieties blog has a fascinating, and incredibly detailed, history of Paris. The post includes beautiful stills of the technicolor sequences, and transcripts of the remaining sound reels.
What is fascinating to me about Paris is that it features something I have not yet come across in this project: a female screenwriter. Hope Loring was a prolific screenwriter in Hollywood, often working in partnership with her husband Louis "Buddy" Lighton. You can read more about her here.
Final tidbit, in researching this post I discovered that director Clarence Badger retired to Sydney, Australia (where I grew up), and Hope Loring retired to Mallorca, Spain (where some of my ancestors hail from)! Small world.
Studio: First National Pictures
Director: Clarence Badger
Screenplay: Hope Loring
Music: Al Bryan, Edgar Leslie, Horatio Nicholls, Eddie Ward
Choreographer: Larry Ceballos (dance director)
Leading Actors: Irene Bordini, Jack Buchanan, Louise Closser Hale, Jason Robards, ZaSu Pitts, Margaret Fielding
Based on the Martin Brown Broadway musical of the same name, Paris is the story of an American art student living in Paris who falls in love with a French actress. She agrees to marry him, but only with his mother’s blessing.
The plot initially sounds like An American in Paris, and interestingly, the original Gershwin symphonic poem was composed in the same year as Brown’s play premiered on Broadway, 1928. It seems stories about American artists falling in love in Paris were very much in vogue in the late 1920s!
Unfortunately, we cannot compare the two films as Paris only survives in fragmentary sound reels at the UCLA Film and Television Archive.
Paris was produced by First National Pictures, an independent movie studio that merged with Warner Bros in 1928. The movie was filmed in black and white with two technicolor (and by most accounts, extravagant and unnecessary), revue scenes. Paris received mixed reviews and was considered a moderate success, playing better overseas where its leading lady, French actress Irene Bordini, was more well known.
Like many other stage to screen adaptations of the period, the Broadway score was largely replaced for the film version. A great shame, as the Broadway show featured songs by Cole Porter including “Let’s Fall in Love”.
The Vitaphone Varieties blog has a fascinating, and incredibly detailed, history of Paris. The post includes beautiful stills of the technicolor sequences, and transcripts of the remaining sound reels.
What is fascinating to me about Paris is that it features something I have not yet come across in this project: a female screenwriter. Hope Loring was a prolific screenwriter in Hollywood, often working in partnership with her husband Louis "Buddy" Lighton. You can read more about her here.
Final tidbit, in researching this post I discovered that director Clarence Badger retired to Sydney, Australia (where I grew up), and Hope Loring retired to Mallorca, Spain (where some of my ancestors hail from)! Small world.
- Published on
From Kevin John Bozelka's blog. Click picture for link.
Date of Release: Oct 16, 1929
Director: Charles J. Hunt
Studio: Rayart Pictures
Leading Actors: Tommy Christian, Ellalee Ruby, Jack J. Clark, Lucy Ames, Art Barnett
Music: Billy Moll
Choreographer: Jack Clark
The Making Of
Rayart Pictures Corporation, initially a silent film company, filmed various musical shorts at one of several east coast studios, Metropolitan Sound Studios, in New Jersey. One of those films, Howdy Broadway was not widely released and was a monumental flop. It is now available on DVD through Alpha Home Entertainment.
Plot
A backstage comedy centered on college students.
What The Critics Said
The NY Times described Howdy Broadway as “amateurish”, and a “barely released embarrassment that didn’t further the careers of anyone involved”. The film receives similarly harsh reviews from modern day viewers.
Richard Koszarski, in his book Hollywood on the Hudson, describes Hunt’s direction of the film as “incompetent and listless”. He states that Howdy Broadway “offers nothing to suggest any degree of pride, interest or imagination on the part of those who made it.”
According to Edwin M. Bradley, Howdy Broadway was “made to capitlize on the modest following of bandleader-saxophonist-composer Tommy Christian and his band the Collegians”. The production company, Rayart Pictures, folded shortly after the advent of talkies. It’s easy to see why.
Modern Day Viewing
The best thing about this film is that it is only 47 minutes long. The script, direction, and editing are so woeful, it’s comedic. It’s easy to see where the Singin’ In the Rain creative team later drew their inspiration.
The script, by director Charles J. Hunt, is undeveloped and full of terrible dialogue. Centered around a group of jocks who inexplicably become Broadway performers, we learn nothing about the characters, nor do we particularly care for them.
The direction is similarly inadequate. Each scene is blocked as if for a stage play. The ensemble stands awkwardly in the background, watching the action with their best “listening” faces on. Random musicians, the real life Collegians, are inexplicably poised at the ready to play in almost every scene. Two ensemble members each have a line, but the microphones don’t pick them up.
The acting is mostly suitable for silent films, hammy and over-the-top. In an early number, the actor spends the entire song looking away from the camera to an unseen audience, stage left. In the next scene, an irate police officer delivers his entire speech upstage, with his back to the camera.
The editing is also amateurish. Scenes take too long to end, with actors standing still, as if waiting for “cut” to be called. Cuts between different shots within one scene make the actors appear to switch positions although they are standing still, and the sound is often not synchronized with the image.
Women appear in the film as the sweet love interest, the scheming performer, and the scantily clad chorus girls. The lead female, Lucy Ames, is a nice enough soprano, but her lack of depth or desires beyond her beau make her uninteresting. Lyrics such as “Anything you say, anything you need, I’ll agree. You can always count on me” make her even less endearing. Her costume, a pretty dress with a giant white corsage that covers her entire shoulder, is so distracting that even her male counterpart has no choice but to play with it while she sings.
Sweet though forgettable songs, with a good balance of ballads and jaunty up-tempo numbers, at least keep the film rolling at a reasonable pace. The orchestrations are simple, predominantly making use of piano, guitar, a violin or two, and an alto sax. Two songs occur as an expression of a character’s feelings, however most of the song and dance numbers are performed as a show within a show.
The choreography is basic, and at times hilarious. One number features a solo male dancer doing some impressive high kicks, while another features chorus girls tap dancing. Most of the dancing is filmed with the whole body in the frame, though one solo number cuts to close-ups of the male dancer’s “fancy” footwork.
Howdy Broadway is amusing to watch today, thanks to how utterly awful it is. As a musical, it is completely forgettable. As a piece of film history, it is fascinating to see how far we still have to go before the “glory days” of the Hollywood musical.
Director: Charles J. Hunt
Studio: Rayart Pictures
Leading Actors: Tommy Christian, Ellalee Ruby, Jack J. Clark, Lucy Ames, Art Barnett
Music: Billy Moll
Choreographer: Jack Clark
The Making Of
Rayart Pictures Corporation, initially a silent film company, filmed various musical shorts at one of several east coast studios, Metropolitan Sound Studios, in New Jersey. One of those films, Howdy Broadway was not widely released and was a monumental flop. It is now available on DVD through Alpha Home Entertainment.
Plot
A backstage comedy centered on college students.
What The Critics Said
The NY Times described Howdy Broadway as “amateurish”, and a “barely released embarrassment that didn’t further the careers of anyone involved”. The film receives similarly harsh reviews from modern day viewers.
Richard Koszarski, in his book Hollywood on the Hudson, describes Hunt’s direction of the film as “incompetent and listless”. He states that Howdy Broadway “offers nothing to suggest any degree of pride, interest or imagination on the part of those who made it.”
According to Edwin M. Bradley, Howdy Broadway was “made to capitlize on the modest following of bandleader-saxophonist-composer Tommy Christian and his band the Collegians”. The production company, Rayart Pictures, folded shortly after the advent of talkies. It’s easy to see why.
Modern Day Viewing
The best thing about this film is that it is only 47 minutes long. The script, direction, and editing are so woeful, it’s comedic. It’s easy to see where the Singin’ In the Rain creative team later drew their inspiration.
The script, by director Charles J. Hunt, is undeveloped and full of terrible dialogue. Centered around a group of jocks who inexplicably become Broadway performers, we learn nothing about the characters, nor do we particularly care for them.
The direction is similarly inadequate. Each scene is blocked as if for a stage play. The ensemble stands awkwardly in the background, watching the action with their best “listening” faces on. Random musicians, the real life Collegians, are inexplicably poised at the ready to play in almost every scene. Two ensemble members each have a line, but the microphones don’t pick them up.
The acting is mostly suitable for silent films, hammy and over-the-top. In an early number, the actor spends the entire song looking away from the camera to an unseen audience, stage left. In the next scene, an irate police officer delivers his entire speech upstage, with his back to the camera.
The editing is also amateurish. Scenes take too long to end, with actors standing still, as if waiting for “cut” to be called. Cuts between different shots within one scene make the actors appear to switch positions although they are standing still, and the sound is often not synchronized with the image.
Women appear in the film as the sweet love interest, the scheming performer, and the scantily clad chorus girls. The lead female, Lucy Ames, is a nice enough soprano, but her lack of depth or desires beyond her beau make her uninteresting. Lyrics such as “Anything you say, anything you need, I’ll agree. You can always count on me” make her even less endearing. Her costume, a pretty dress with a giant white corsage that covers her entire shoulder, is so distracting that even her male counterpart has no choice but to play with it while she sings.
Sweet though forgettable songs, with a good balance of ballads and jaunty up-tempo numbers, at least keep the film rolling at a reasonable pace. The orchestrations are simple, predominantly making use of piano, guitar, a violin or two, and an alto sax. Two songs occur as an expression of a character’s feelings, however most of the song and dance numbers are performed as a show within a show.
The choreography is basic, and at times hilarious. One number features a solo male dancer doing some impressive high kicks, while another features chorus girls tap dancing. Most of the dancing is filmed with the whole body in the frame, though one solo number cuts to close-ups of the male dancer’s “fancy” footwork.
Howdy Broadway is amusing to watch today, thanks to how utterly awful it is. As a musical, it is completely forgettable. As a piece of film history, it is fascinating to see how far we still have to go before the “glory days” of the Hollywood musical.