RESEARCH SOURCES
Books

• Richard Barrios, A Song in the Dark: The Birth of the Musical Film, Oxford University Press (1995) 
• James L. Neibaur, The Fall of Buster Keaton: His Films for MGM, Educational Pictures, and Columbia, Bloomsbury (2010) 

​
Articles

• Brian Cady, “Free and Easy,” Turner Classic Movies (Nov 12, 2004) 
• Lindsey D, “Free and Easy (1930)” The Motion Pictures (June 5, 2014)
• Douglas Fox, “Service on Pictures: Free and Easy,” Exhibitors Herald-World (April 26, 1930) p.28​
• Ed. Bettina Gunczy, “Selected Pictures Guide: Free and Easy,” National Board of Review Magazine (March 1930) p.16
• Mordaunt Hall, “THE SCREEN; Buster Keaton Talks. "Music Hath Charms,” NY Times (April 19, 1930) 
• J. Hoberman, “Silent Comic, Finding His Voice,” NY Times (March 23, 2014) 
• Matthew Hoffman, “Buster Keaton in Free and Easy (1930),” Park Ridge Classic Film (March 10, 2017)
• Ed O’Malley, “Free and Easy,” Hollywood Filmograph (April 19, 1930), p.29
• Richard T. Ryan, “Want dopey fun? Then play ‘Dodgeball’: New to DVD,” The Ann Arbor News (Dec 10, 2004) 
• Uncredited, “The Shadow Stage: Free and Easy,” Photoplay (May 1930), p.55
• Uncredited, “Big All-Star-Cast in “Free and Easy”,” Drumheller Review (Dec 19, 1930), p.4
• Uncredited, “TV Today: Wednesday, August 20, 1958,” Tampa Bay Times, (Aug 20, 1958), p.13B
• Uncredited, “Monday late night,” The Herald: TV Herald (Rock Hill, South Carolina), (Oct 4, 1992), p.11

Websites 

• AFI Catalog, “FREE AND EASY (1930)
  Accessed via: https://catalog.afi.com/Film/9238-FREE-AND-EASY?cxt=filmography 
• Buster Keaton, “Keaton’s Films”
  Accessed via: https://web.archive.org/web/20120712140907/http://www.busterkeaton.com/ 
• Criterion Forum, “Buster Keaton Collection”
  Accessed via: https://criterionforum.org/Video/buster-keaton-collection-warner-bros-dvd 

Other

• Dir. Christopher Bird and Kevin Brownlow, So Funny It Hurts: Buster Keaton and MGM (2004) ​​

Date of Release: March 20, 1930 
Studio: MGM
Director: Malcolm St. Clair 
Cinematographer: Cedric Gibbons 
Editor: Carl Pierson, Leslie F. Wilder
Screenplay: Sylvia Thalberg, Frank Butler, Joseph White Farnham
Music: Clifford Grey, Herbert Stothart, Arthur Freed
Sound: Paul Neal, Douglas Shearer 
Production Designer: Cedric Gubbons 
Costumes: Adrian
Leading Actors: Joan Crawford (Joan), Johnny Mack Brown (Larry), Dorothy Sebastian (Elizabeth), Ricardo Cortez (Jeff), Benny Rubin (“The Doctor”), Cliff Edwards (Froggy), Karl Dane (Hank), Lloyd Ingraham (Mr. Prescott) 

Montana Moon is described by Turner Classic Movies as “the first-ever singing cowboy film.” It was a star vehicle for Joan Crawford, who had in 1929 appeared in two other talkies, MGM’s The Hollywood Revue of 1929 and Untamed. 

Crawford plays Joan “Montana” Prescott, daughter of wealthy rancher John Prescott (Lloyd Ingram). On a train headed home, Joan fights off the admiration of Jeff Pelham (Ricardo Cortez) to save the honor of her sister Elizabeth (Dorothy Sebastian), who is madly in love with Jeff. To save all the trouble, Joan hops off the train in the middle of nowhere and stumbles upon cowboy Larry Kerrigan (John Mack Brown). The unlikely pair quickly fall in love, and marry. Joan is torn between life with her cowboy husband and being her former party girl self, while Larry feels uncomfortable in Joan’s socialite crowd. Joan heads back to New York, only for the train to be “hijacked,” and she falls gratefully into the arms of her beloved cowboy. Comic interludes are provided by The Doctor (Benny Rubin) and cowboy Froggy (Cliff Edwards). 

Unusually, although there is a plethora of material about Joan Crawford available through biographies and interviews, very little has been written about the making of Montana Moon. According to Samuel Garza Bernstein, Montana Moon was intended to set Crawford and John Mack Brown as a team, however after seeing the chemistry between Crawford and Clark Gable in Dance, Fools, Dance (1931), future films with Brown were scrapped. 

It seems that Montanta Moon was viewed as trite even in its day, and was not considered a groundbreaking film, despite its status as the first “cowboy musical” and unique (at least for a musical) use of outdoor settings. 

Montana Moon was released across the United States on March 20, 1930.  

As noted in the Los Angeles Record, Leo the Lion made “in-person” appearances outside the theatre at select times in early April 1930. 

Montana Moon received lukewarm reviews. While critics found Sylvia Thalberg and Frank Butler’s plot formulaic, they generally had praise for leading lady Joan Crawford, and funny man Cliff Edwards. Almost no critics even made mention of the music. 

Mordaunt Hall, film critic for The New York Times, described the film as “An interminable, amateurish talking picture, with spasmodic snatches of melody…” Hall found the sound recording to be lacking with “little or no idea of sound perspective,” and the dialogue “poor” and “frequently lacking in good taste.” Hall felt Joan Crawford “appears to enjoy her role and sometimes her acting is quite fair.” Hall also gave credit to comedians Benny Rubin and Cliff Edwards, though felt their role was stymied by “none too witty” dialogue. Hall snarkily surmised, “...the most pleasing features of this production are Miss Crawford’s camel hair coat and her jodhpur riding outfit.” Hall also noted that the cinema audience applauded when cowboy Larry punched socialite Jeff. 

Writing for Picture Play Magazine, Norbert Lusk stated that while Joan Crawford delivered a “spontaneous, likeable performance,” it was perhaps not enough to save the “trite, artificial whole.” Screenland editor and critic Delight Evans described the plot as using a “familiar formula,” but concluded that Crawford “couldn’t very well be easier on the eyes. Mr. John Brown is nice. [And] Cliff Edwards is very funny.” 

Meanwhile, Photoplay listed Montana Moon as one of “The Best Pictures of the Month.” The Photoplay review stated “Even if you rebel in spots, you’ll care for this picture in a big way, in spite of yourself, for it has great gusto and paprika.” The review praised the comic talents of Benny Rubin, Karl Dane, and Cliff Edwards, and concluded “Bubbling Joan is back where she belongs, in a light frolicsome picture…”

Writing for Outlook and Independent, Creighton Peet was also enamored with Joan Crawford’s performance, which he described as “simple, straightforward…so honest and convincing that it almost makes up for the conventional plot…” 

Douglas Fox, writing for Exhibitors Herald-World derided the film as a “mixture of sense and nonsense which is not amusing but becomes… a positive bore, too irritating to be a sporific [sic], and not quite irritating enough to make you get up and walk out.” Fox was the only critic that mentioned the music, stating “Musical comedy bits shoved in here and there, while nice enough in themselves, stick out like sore thumbs and remind you of those early days in talking pictures a few months ago when sound was introduced for its own sake, no other excuse being available.” 

Whatever the critics thought, Crawford had box office appeal. Exhibitors Herald-World described the film as “The kind of picture that would be good anywhere” and noted “Crawford gets better and people like her.” George E. Fuller, an exhibitor from Alaska, enthusiastically wrote in Exhibitors Herald-World,

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) ​

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.

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
Books

• Richard Barrios, A Song in the Dark: The Birth of the Musical Film, 2nd Ed, Oxford University Press (2010)
• Robert L. Gale, “A Dashiell Hammett Companion” Greenwood Press (2000)
• Edwin M. Bradley, Unsung Hollywood Musicals of the Golden Era: 50 Overlooked Films and Their Stars, 1929-1939, McFarland (2016)
  
  

Articles

• Jeff Cohen, “Dancing the Devil Away,” Vitaphone Varieties (Nov 7, 2007)
• Douglas Fox, “Lord Byron of Broadway,” Exhibitors Herald-World (March 15, 1930), p.37
• Mordaunt Hall, “The Screen: The Ungrateful Song Writer,” New York Times (March 8, 1930), p. 23
• P.S. Harrison, ““Lord Byron of Broadway” (100% T-F & DN)” Harrison’s Reports (March 15, 1930), p. 43
• Caryn James, “CRITIC'S NOTEBOOK;Singing, Dancing and Sinning” New York Times (April 26, 1996) Section C, p.1
• Heather Vaughan Lee, “Joan Crawford, Costumes and Publicity in ‘Our Dancing Daughters’ (1928)” Fashion Historia (May 14, 2012)
• Norbert Lusk, “The Screen in Review,” Picture Play Magazine (April 1930), p.100
• Samuel Richard Mook, “Bread-and-butter Babies Looking for Cake,” Picture Play Magazine (April 1930), p.20 - 23
• Ruth Morris, “Uncommon Chatter,” Variety (March 19, 1930), p.55
• Don Samson, “Music and Talent: Talkies Lure Stage Show Artists,” Exhibitors Herald World (Feb 15, 1930), p. 48
• Edwin Schallert, “Lord Byron of Broadway,” Motion Picture News (Jan 25, 1930), p. 43
• Kimberly Truhler, “The Style Essentials--Joan Crawford Struts Her Stuff in 1928's OUR DANCING DAUGHTERS,” Glamamor (Nov 27, 2012)
• Lawrence A. Urbach, Jerry Hoffman, “Hollywood,” Motion Picture News (Feb 16, 1929), p.497 
• Uncredited, "Pictorial Section of Exhibitors Herald,” Exhibitors Herald, (Aug 8, 1925), p.45
• Uncredited, “Last Minute News” Motion Picture News, (Feb, 1929) p.6
• Uncredited, “Charles King starred,” The Film Daily, (April 14, 1929), p.10 

• Uncredited, “The following 47 Pictures are available for Wired Houses,” Exhibitors Herald World, (June 29, 1929), MGM Product Announcement Feature
• Uncredited, “High and Low — Along Music Row” Motion Picture News, (Feb 8, 1930), p.62
• Uncredited, “Robbins Net $650,000 for Last Eight Months of 1929,” Motion Picture News, (March 1, 1930), p.18
• Uncredited, “Variety’s Chicago Office,” Variety, (March 5, 1930), p.69
• Uncredited, “Announce Opening House, Newly Equipped for Sound, Exhibitors Herald World, (March 29, 1930) p.22
• Uncredited, “The Big Ten: Best Selling Popular Songs of the Month,” Radio Revue, (March 1930), p. 46

• Uncredited, “The Film Estimates” The Educational Screen (April 1930), p.112​
• Uncredited, April 1930 Reviews, The Motion Picture Committee of The Women’s University Club, Los Angeles Branch, American Association of University Women (April 1930) 
• Uncredited, “Music of the Screen,” The New Movie Magazine, (April, 1930)
• Uncredited, “Film House Reviews: Fox, B’KLYN,” Variety, (May 28, 1930), p.43
• Uncredited, “Critical Comment on Current Films: Lord Byron of Broadway,” Screenland, (June 30, 1930)
• Uncredited, “Brief Guide,” (June, 1930), Talking Screen, p.6

• Uncredited, “18 Alleged Infringements Against M-G-M Music,” Variety, (Aug 6, 1930), p.65
  
  

Websites

• AFI Catalog, “Lord Byron of Broadway (1930)” Accessed via: https://catalog.afi.com/Film/10367-LORD-BYRONOFBROADWAY?sid=64a16e6c-b73e-43c8-b8f4-83b07e5dfaf2&sr=14.640628&cp=1&pos=0 

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. ​

A tedious backstage comedy saved by Marie Dressler. 

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. ​

​A genuine and terrific comedy starring the Duncan Sisters. 

​Date of Release: Dec 6, 1929
Studio: MGM
Director: Sam Wood
Screenplay: Byron Morgan, Alfred Block, Al Boasborg, Willard Mack
Composers: Dave Dreyer, Sammy Fain, Irving Kahal, Ballard MacDonald, Manuel M. Ponce, Francis Wheeler
Choreographer: Sammy Lee
Leading Actors: Rosetta Duncan (Casey Hogan), Vivian Duncan (Babe Hogan), Lawrence Gray (Jimmy Dean), Benny Rubin (Benny Friedman), Jed Prouty (Mr. Parker), Clarence Burton (Cop), George Davis  (Store show stage hand), Oscar Apfel (Mr. Mandelbaum), George Periolat (Mr. Weill), Rolfe Sedan (Vaudeville violinist), Ann Dvorak (Dancer in "Hoosier Hop" number)
 
The Duncan Sisters were real-life sisters Rosetta and Vivian Duncan. The pair started performing in vaudeville as children, and became a highly popular act. By the mid-1920s they were starring in their own Broadway show, Topsy and Eva.
 
Topsy and Eva was based on the novel Uncle Tom’s Cabin, and featured Vivian as the sweet-natured Eva, and Rosetta as Topsy in blackface. The show was written by Catherine Chisolm Cushing, and featured music written by the Duncan Sisters. The show was an immense hit, with Rosetta and Vivian performing all over the United States, Europe, and South America. It was adapted into a silent film in 1927.

It’s a Great Life was the Duncan Sisters’ first talkie feature. Initially titled Imperfect Ladies and Cottons and Silks, the film was aimed as a follow up to The Broadway Melody. Surprisingly, and thankfully, the Topsy character is completely absent from It’s a Great Life, and the sisters play heightened versions of themselves.  
 
Film historian Edwin Bradley describes the film as “a charming, high-spirited show case for the duo,” and he is spot on. The film is an absolute delight, featuring fun songs, three Technicolor revue scenes, and some hilarious comedy. The story follows the trials and tribulations of the Hogan sisters, the sweet and silly Babe (Vivian Duncan) and the brash and comical Casey (Rosetta), who are store clerks with dreams of making it big in vaudeville.
 
The film opens with a policeman chasing two women who he suspects to be pickpockets. A huge crowd is soon following and causing mayhem along the street. The group laughs heartily at the policeman when it is discovered the women were only rushing to get to work at the department store.
 
The Hogan sisters rush into the morning staff meeting where it is announced that the annual show will be directed by the store’s pianist Jimmy Dean (Lawrence Gray) - who is sitting behind a collection of MGM sheet music, "The Wedding of the Painted Doll," from The Broadway Melody, also on display, and The Hollywood Revue of 1929. 

Babe has a fever dream, a beautiful Technicolor extravaganza at the Palace Theatre where the Hogan Sisters and Jimmy Dean have finally made it big. With dances by Broadway choreographer Sammy Lee, The “Hoosier Hop” and “Sailing on a Sunbeam” are terrific production numbers.

​According to a report on Hollywood work schedules in Screenland, the scene was filmed under trying conditions after a long day of rehearsals and a shoot beset with technical issues. Vivian Duncan was deeply unhappy with the result and reportedly stated “It broke my heart to have the thing go out that way when I know how much better I can sing.”  
 
The film ends with Babe, Casey, and Jimmy all happily reunited.  ​

Rosetta Duncan as Casey is a real highlight. Her strong belt coupled with fantastic comedic timing make her a wonderful performer to watch. Tragically, behind the smile, Rosetta was an alcoholic as a result of having to hide the fact she was a lesbian. She was killed in a car crash in 1959. 

Vivian Duncan is no less brilliant, and is charming as the straight-laced though ditzy sister. 
 
Film historian Edwin M. Bradley claims It’s a Great Life “faltered at the box office and helped to cut short the Duncans’ movie career,” however it played to strong houses around the country, and topped the box office takings in Los Angeles. As reported by Screenland, the film did well enough for MGM to sign the sisters to long-term contracts though they did not make any more feature films.
 
The Duncan Sisters continued to perform on stage into the 1950s, often reprising the Topsy and Eva characters. Vaudeville Old & New states that even though the use of blackface had gone out of style, “their material was still fresh.”

It's a Great Life  may have been their only feature talkie, but the film serves as a wonderful reminder of Rosetta and Vivan's skills and talent. Their genuine affection for each other radiates from the screen, and the film is a real highlight of 1929. It is currently available to watch on YouTube, and on DVD through the Warner Archive Collection.  ​

​The first musical revue style musical. 

Date of Release: June 20, 1929
Studio:  MGM
Director: Charles Reisner
Screenplay: Joe Farnham, Al Boasberg, Robert E. Hopkins
Composers: Louis Alter, Martin Broones, Nacio Herb Brown, Gus Edwards, Fred Fisher, Arthur Freed, Joe Goodwin, Jesse Greer,  Ed Haley, Robert A. Keiser, Raymond Klages, John T. Murray,  Andy Rice, Joe Trent
Musical Arrangements: Arthur Lange, Ernest Klapholtz, Ray Heindorf
Choreographer: Sammy Lee, George Cunningham
Leading Actors: Conrad Nagel, Jack Benny, John Gilbert, Norma Shearer, Joan Crawford, Bessie Love, Lionel Barrymore, Cliff Edwards, Stan Laurel, Oliver Hardy, Anita Page, Nils Asther, The Brox Sisters, Natacha Natova and Co., Marion Davies, William Haines, Buster Keaton, Marie Dressler, Charles King, Polly Moran, Gus Edwards, Karl Dane, George K. Arthur, Ann Dvorak, Gwen Lee, Albertina Rasch Ballet, The Rounders, The Biltmore Quartet

Both IMDb and AFI list the opening date for The Hollywood Revue of 1929 as November 23, 1929. However ads and articles in the various trade magazines show the film was actually released in June 1929 – making it the first revue style musical film.

Developed from an idea by producer Harry Rapf, the revue was set to feature some of MGM’s brightest stars. Addressing issues of dubbing, Motion Picture News ​reported that

Highly anticipated, the premier was reported by The Film Daily as “one of the most spectacular ever held on the Coast.” The opening featured a human billboard (pictured below) and was one of the first to announce celebrities as they walked down the aisles of theatre. Variety noted that throughout the screening, the audience sat frozen in their seats “because of the immediate thought on how is the stage going to compete with such effects…”

The Hollywood Revue of 1929 opened to rave reviews and played to sold-out houses, frequently topping the grosses list. The Film Daily called it "A smash and a wow.” Motion Picture News described it as “an excellent show,” and claimed the "Singing in the Rain" number was "by far the most effective number ever staged in either sound or silent films.” Variety stated, “it’s the top novelty film to be turned out to date.” 

​In the next scene, Natacha Natova and Co dance and perform increasingly riskier lifts and acrobatic feats, including spinning Natova by her leg. The number is truly thrilling, spoiled by frustrating occasional mid-shots which cut off the lower half of the performers bodies. ​

The penultimate number, “Orange Blossom Time” by Joe Goodwin and Gus Edwards is the second colorized sequence. The song sounds like an early Rogers and Hammerstein ballad, and the choreography is simply stunning. Featuring dancers from the Albertina Rasch ballet, the dancing is highly polished. With a range of camera angles, including wide shots of the whole stage, close-ups of the dancers’ feet, and clever use of a reflecting pool, the number is a real highlight of the film. ​

The colorized finale, a reprise of “Singin’ in the Rain,” features the entire cast singing and dancing beneath Noah’s ark, complete with a rainbow. 

Unusually for the period, the production credits are played at the film's conclusion. 

Overall, The Hollywood Revue of 1929 is highly entertaining. It is not without its flaws however. The sound quality on my Warner Bros DVD copy is not great, and the film itself has some choppy editing and poor choice of camera angles.

The dancing is surprisingly hit and miss, especially given the experience of choreographer Sammy Lee, who worked on Broadway choreographing for the Ziegfeld Follies and the original stage productions of No, No, Nanette (1925), The Cocoanuts (1925), Rio Rita (1927) and Show Boat (1927). He worked on over sixty films, and was later twice nominated for an Academy Award for Best Dance Direction for King of Burlesque (1936) and Ali Baba Goes to Town (1937). 

My theory is that some of the numbers were actually choreographed by Albertina Rasch. Austrian-born Rasch was an influential prima ballerina and choreographer. After studying in Vienna, Rasch moved to New York. She worked on over thirty Broadway, over twenty Hollywood films, and ran her own troupe of classically trained and highly disciplines dancers. The group traveled extensively to Europe, and performed on Broadway and in film. 

The most difficult aspect of watching these early musicals is the blatant sexism and racism. Women are pretty objects to be looked at, people of color are absent, and racist stereotypes prevail. 

The Hollywood Revue of 1929 is a fascinating record of some incredible artists. With the film's box office success, it's easy to see why Warner Bros and Fox followed with their own revues shortly thereafter. 

Joan Crawford's first talkie!

Date of Release: Nov 23, 1929 
Studio: MGM 
Director: Jack Conway  
Screenplay: Sylvia Thalberg, Frank Butler, Willard Mack, Lucille Newmark
Music: Louis Alter, Nacio Herb Brown, Arthur Freed, Joe Goodwin
Leading Actors: Joan Crawford, Robert Montgomery, Ernest Torrence, Holmes Herbert, John Miljan, Gwen Lee, Edward Nugent, Don Terry, Gertrude Astor, Milton Fahrney, Lloyd Ingraham, Grace Cunard, Wilson Benge

Untamed is most famous for being Joan Crawford’s first talking picture. After starting out as a dancer on Broadway, Crawford was signed by MGM. She went on to become one of the most famous, and highly paid, screen actors of her day. She appeared in over 80 films, and was nominated three times for an Academy Award for Best Actress, winning for Mildred Pierce (1945). Despite a tumultuous personal life, Crawford triumphed on the screen and is remembered as one of Hollywood's greatest actors. 

Untamed tells the story of Bingo (Crawford), a young woman raised as a wild child in the jungle “somewhere below the equator in South America.” She inherits a fortune after her father is killed, and is encouraged by her kindly guardians, Ben and Howard (Ernest Torrence and Holmes Herbert), to move to New York to be "civilized". Aboard the ship, Bingo falls in love with a penniless man, Andy (Robert Montgomery). He refuses to live off her money, and leaves the ship with another woman, Marjory (Gwen Lee). A year later, Bingo is cultured and tamed. She organizes for Andy to get a job in South America, and all ends happily. 

Despite solid performances from the cast, Untamed is a terrible movie. The NY Times criticized the unrealistic settings, trite dialogue, “unnecessary” length of the film, and the “unessential” melodies. Variety stated that despite a strong opening at the box office, Untamed was “not a particularly noteworthy feature.” Even with a remastered edition released by Warner Bros available on DVD, Untamed remains lackluster. 

The score was written by a group of men who would go on to become some Hollywood’s most influential artists and producers — Louis Alter, Arthur Freed, Joe Goodwin, and Nacio Herb Brown. Sadly, their skills are not evident here. The light and jaunty overture (reminiscent of “Tiptoe Through the Tulips”), sets the tone for this fluffy and insubstantial film. 

In the opening scene, we see Bingo sitting amidst a group of musicians strumming a guitar and singing an utterly woeful ballad, “Chant of the Jungle.” The music does nothing to enhance the ridiculous “jungle” setting, and is made even more laughable by the mismatched lyrics and choreography. One of the musicians has an unfortunate and distracting habit of staring straight into the camera. 

The music does not improve after the opening number. Once on board a ship bound for New York, we are introduced to the song “Something Wonderful.” Played on a record player, the use of music not created by on-screen musicians is rare during this period, and is a tiny glimmer of director Jack Conway’s future potential (he went on to direct many hit films, including A Tale of Two Cities (1935) and Libeled Lady (1936)). The innovation stops there and “Something Wonderful” is later reprised four more times, with little effect.

There are many moments in Untamed that had the right intentions, but their execution fails. This is particularly true of the fight scene half-way through the film. Whilst at a lavish party at Uncle Ben’s house in New York, a fight is announced between Bingo’s would-be lover Andy, and another guest. The party guests are instructed to enjoy the fight “quietly,” so as not to anger Uncle Ben (Ernest Torrence). While the announcement is humorous, the fight is poorly choreographed and strangely filmed. It looks like a scene from a silent film, and is a lost opportunity for a comedic scene. 

Untamed suffers from a lackluster script and poor pacing. The screenplay was written by a team of writers who went on to great success, (including Frank Butler who was twice nominated for Best Screenplay Oscars, and won for Going My Way in 1944), but, like their musical counterparts, their talents are not evident here. 

Unusually, there are two women in the screenwriting team - Sylvia Thalberg and Lucille Newmark. Despite penning sixteen films, there is scant information available about Thalberg — apart from the fact that she was the sister of producer Irving Thalberg (an MGM producer who was instrumental in the film company’s success). Lucille Newmark had a short career in Hollywood, and there is also currently very little information about her career. 

The representation of women in Untamed is infuriating. The film’s premise tells us that a woman can only be gutsy and independent because she has been raised as a “wild child” of the jungle. Crawford is wonderful, and it is easy to see why she became such a huge star. She is immensely watchable, and shines despite the awful material. The other women in the film, played by Gwen Lee, Gertrude Astor, and Grace Cunard, are jealous, conniving gals who exist only to be wined and dined by the men. 

Apart from seeing an early Crawford performance, the best part of Untamed is the costume design. The party scenes, with stunning dresses by Adrian, are particularly lovely to watch. Adrian worked as head of wardrobe at MGM for over twenty years, and ran a successful couture business with stores on both coasts. 

Most of the cast and crew went on to great success in Hollywood, though with the exception of the music team, not in musicals. Untamed is a film that makes you say, “well, they had to start somewhere!” 

The second movie musical to feature an all African American cast. 

Up until 1929 African American actors had only appeared in Hollywood films in minor roles playing slaves, servants, and fools. As described in Frank Manchel’s Every Step A Struggle: Interviews with Seven Who Shaped the African-American Image in Movies, the studios were reluctant to create “black films” not only because of racism within the Hollywood system, but for fear of losing profits. Theatre managers across the country raised concerns that screening such films would cause black and white people to intermingle, while others insisted they would not screen “all-black” films at all. 

Following on the heels of Hearts in Dixie, Hallelujah was the second feature film with a cast comprised entirely of African American actors. Many commentators held high expectations for the film, hoping it would break stereotypical and conventional portrayals of African American people as established in silent film. 

Hallelujah tells the story of a young farm boy, Zeke (Daniel L. Haynes) who is lured into a rigged game of chance by Chick (Nina Mae McKinney), a beautiful dancer. In a scuffle with the dealer, Hot Shot (William E. Fountaine), Zeke accidentally kills his own brother. Filled with remorse, Zeke becomes a preacher. So powerful is his message, even Chick is converted. Despite being engaged to the sweet Missy Rose (Victoria Spivey) Zeke cannot ignore his lustful feelings for Chick, and runs away with her. Hot Shot returns and Chick abandons Zeke for her former lover. Zeke kills Hot Shot and is sent to prison. Eventually he is pardoned and reunited with his family, a man at peace.

Hallelujah was director King Vidor’s personal project, and his first talkie. He had started out as a script writer and went on to become one of the most influential and prominent directors of his time. As quoted in Judith Weisenfeld’s book Hollywood Be Thy Name Vidor stated “For several years I had nurtured a secret hope. I wanted to make a film about Negores, using only Negores in the cast.” He had hoped to capture the religious fervor he had observed growing up in Texas. Vidor felt so strongly about the project, he went without his salary, agreeing to a share of the profits if it went well, to ensure MGM would agree to produce the film.​

Hallelujah underwent an unusually long production period. While other films were usually completed within a matter of months, Hallelujah took over a year. The location shoots took place in Arkansas and Tennessee. Largely due to technological constraints, and to keep production costs down, the outdoor scenes were filmed silently and the sound was painstakingly synchronized later on.

Stepin Fetchit’s biography by Mel Watkins and the aforementioned Every Step A Struggle provide a fascinating and disheartening account of life on the Hallelujah set. On location, the cast were often subjected to verbal and physical abuse from white spectators, and even occasionally from the crew. They were required to sleep in a separate hotel from the production team, and were forced to use the freight elevator at the “main” hotel. White drivers drove recklessly when commissioned to drive the cast, or refused to drive them at all. The lead actors were paid less than fifty dollars a week – less than half a “small-sized star” could expect at that time, and up to four times less what a white leading actor would be paid. Finally, the cast were fed “smaller, less appetizing lunches than the white crew.”  The actors reportedly endured the conditions in the hope the film would “open the way for the Negro in the talking screen.” In a small but important victory, the cast changed many of the lines, taking out derogatory references to “niggers” and “coons.” 
​
Most films in 1929 had grand openings in New York at a Broadway theatre. Hallelujah was the first film to open simultaneously on Broadway and in Harlem, at the Embassy Theatre and Lafayette Theatre respectively. Although the separate premiers were criticized for reinforcing segregation, the unprecedented Harlem opening drew large crowds. The guest list included members of the cast and Oscar De Priest, the first African American elected to Congress in the twentieth century.  

Some white critics were divided as to whether or not Hallelujah was good enough to hold “universal appeal,” simply because of the all-black cast. Despite the Motion Picture News prediction that Hallelujah would play well “even in the south,” many southern theatres refused to screen it all, and the film barely played in regional centers across America. According to the Dictionary of Films, Hallelujah played well in Europe – a fact reinforced by the success of African American performers such as Nina Mae McKinney in Europe during this period. ​

Where Hallelujah did play, it played to packed houses and was deemed a surprise smash. Motion Picture News (Nov 9, 1929) stated that the film’s success had surprised the industry, and attributed its success not to the wonderful performances or the powerful impact of the film, but to the advertising campaign led by a (white) publicist who later became the head of public relations at MGM, Frank Whitbeck. Every ad for Hallelujah referred to its “colored” cast and very rarely showed pictures of the actors.

Despite the racist undercurrent in trade magazine and newspaper reviews, the critical response to Hallelujah was overwhelmingly positive. The white critics focused on the film’s technical brilliance, visual scope, and King Vidor’s direction. Film Daily stated the film was “an artistic and explorable production.” Educational Screen, rarely given to bestowing a good review, wrote “A picture much out of the ordinary and with real appeal to the intelligence. Several white reviewers claimed that Hallelujah succeeded in spite of its all-black cast rather than because of it.

The National Board of Review Magazine in both in the September/October and November editions gave Hallelujah unqualified praise – “In many ways it is an astonishing picture, it is also prophetic for its hints of a nobler form of motion picture for the future, a maturer concept of what motion accompanied by sound can bring to the screen.” The film was included in a list of “Exceptional Photoplays” which was distributed to theatre managers and critics across the country. 

Variety (August 28, 1929) deemed Hallelujah to be so unique, the magazine printed three reviews – two by their regular male correspondents (one each reporting from the New York and Harlem premiers), and a third by “a girl staff writer.” The Broadway reviewer felt that white people would love it, and that “negroes” would either love it or hate it. 

The Harlem reviewer noted that the African American portion of the audience laughed riotously, even through the serious scenes. He suggested it was “just a sincere form of hysterical appreciation.” 

Many African American critics voiced frustration at the southern-based story and what was essentially a reiteration of traditional representations of rural African American life. Most were impressed by the powerful performances delivered by the cast and hoped it was a sign of better things to come.

The white critics meanwhile mostly failed to mention the actors and their performances. When they were mentioned, the actors were never named, or the credit was given to Vidor for his ability to direct these “simple amateurs.” ​

Despite repeated assertions that the actors were inexperienced, many members of the cast were already seasoned performers by the time King Vidor “discovered” them. Vidor visited New York in 1928 to recruit his actors, and in the process cast Daniel L. Haynes (Zeke), Nina Mae McKinney (Chick), and Victoria Spivey (Missy Rose).  

In 1928, Haynes was understudying the role of Jules Bledsoe in Show Boat. In the year prior he had appeared in three stage shows, The Bottom of the Cup, Earth, and Rang Tang. Although he appeared in several more films after Hallelujah, including So the Red Rose (1935) and Escape from Devil’s Island (1935), the studios never cast him in a lead, and he did not achieve great stardom like Stepin Fetchit. 

After Hallelujah Haynes returned to New York and appeared in The Green Pastures (1930 and 1935) and Androcles and the Lion (1938). According to Every Step a Struggle Haynes left show business shortly after Androcles. Clarence Muse (Stepin Fetchit) stated, “It took a lot of guts to stay in this damned business… And Haynes was one who says I had enough and he quit.” Given his performance in Hallelujah, with his rich baritone voice and ability to move between comic and tragic, it is a real shame that Haynes was not afforded more opportunity simply because of the color of his skin. 

Nina Mae McKinney was just sixteen when she appeared in Hallelujah, and she is considered the first African American woman to star in a feature film (and the first to play the “tragic mulatto” character). Born in South Carolina, McKinney moved to New York when she was twelve. By fifteen she was performing in Lew Leslie’s Blackbirds on Broadway. Like Haynes, McKinney had limited film success, and, despite her best efforts to stay in the tabloids, also had limited success as a starlet.

In a rare feature in Photoplay (July 1929) on an African American actress, Nina Mae McKenney is described entirely by her physicality with stereotypes like “She rolled them eyes and she rolled them hips,” and “the little colored spasm.” McKenney is likened to a cat and the author attempts to play down her blackness with descriptions like “Nina isn’t black, she’s coppery with a crimson, pagan mouth…” and “She may be black but she’s got a blonde soul…”  

Following on from Hallelujah McKinney continued to work on the stage in New York and in Europe where she became known as “The Black Garbo”. Nina Mae McKinney: The Black Garbo, a biography on McKinney, was published in 2011.

Texas born Victoria Spivey was a highly talented self-taught musician whose career spanned over forty years. After providing the music for her older sisters’ vaudeville acts, Spivey became a celebrated performer and recording artist, traveling all over the USA as a singer. She eventually started her own record label, Spivey Records, through which Bob Dylan made his first recording. 

Also downplayed or completely ignored by the white reviewers were the female creatives on Hallelujah – Wanda Tuchock and Eva Jessye.  ​

Although Wanda Tuchock is often criticized for the racist language she employed in the initial Hallelujah script, she is unique for being a credited, paid, female writer in Hollywood in 1929. She worked in Hollywood for almost thirty years and her credits include Show People (1928), Billy the Kid (1930), Little Orphan Annie (1932), Finishing School (1934), and This is the Life (1944). Tuchock was a charter member of the Screen Writers Guild and a lifetime member of the board of trustees of the Motion Picture and Television Fund. 

Hallelujah deserves to be better remembered and celebrated. It is a real shame that racism is the cause of shunning and ignoring the talent it showcased, and the powerful story at its heart.