- Published on
Close Up Magazine, August 1929
Date of Release: March 10, 1929
Studio: Fox
Director: Paul Sloane
Screenplay: Walter Weems
Music: Henry Thacker Burleigh, Stephen Foster, Howard Jackson, Walter Weems
Choreographer: Fanchon and Marco
Leading Actors:
Clarence Muse (Nappus), Eugene Jackson (Chiquapin), Stepin Fetchit (Gummy), Bernice Pilot (Chloe), Clifford Ingram (Rammey), Mildred Washington (Trailia), Zack Williams (Deacon), Gertrude Howard (Emmy), Dorothy Morrison (Melia), Vivian Smith (Violet), Robert Brooks (True Love), A. C. H. Billbrew (Voodoo woman), Richard Carlyle (White doctor), Bilbrew Chorus
By the beginning of 1929, all the major studios had announced projects featuring all-black casts. Walter White, secretary of the NAACP, wrote in 1929 that this was a natural continuation of the strong representation of “negro artists in the theatre” and in literature. White believed films would start in stereotypes and move to something rich, more nuanced, and created by and with African American artists.
According to Separate Cinema, the film was “originally conceived as a two-reel musical showcase of spirituals and minstrel comedy…” but the rough cuts “so impressed the producers… that the writers expanded it into a feature length film.”
The AFI categorizes films based on a number of criteria, including references in trade magazines. Give the description of Hearts in Dixie in Film Daily (March 3, 1929) as “a musical comedy put over very effectively,” and various ads describing it as "all singing and all dancing" it is surprising the film is not listed as a musical in the AFI Catalog (it is listed as a “drama/comedy” and “African American with songs"). I’m glad I didn’t skip this film, as not only is it historically significant as the first musical to feature a cast of all African-Americans, it is also the first feature film and talkie to do so.
Overall the (white) critics loved Hearts in Dixie. Film Daily declared in June 1929, the film was “another forward step in realism.” Mordaunt Hall wrote the New York Times “this Movietone production is something that is a testimonial for the talking film, much more so than any of the other audible pieces that have come to the screen.” Unfortunately, the racism in the reviews and in the coverage of the film is undeniable. In adverts and press about the film, the actors are always referred to by the color of their skin, and rarely appear in photographs.
A counter to the racism found in the trade magazines is Close Up magazine, a short-lived but excellent periodical “devoted to films as art.” In August 1929, the magazine ran an issue on “negro art in film” championing for a more authentic “negro cinema,” and content written, produced, directed, and starring African American performers.
In her article “The Negro Actor and the American Movies” Geraldyn Dismond described Hearts in Dixie as “pretentious” due its romanticized view of plantation life. Despite this, Dismond praised the film for showing African Americans “not as fools and servants, but as human beings with the same emotions, desires and weaknesses as other people’s…” Dismond firmly believed that “negro films” would challenge racism.
Hearts in Dixie is not commercially available, however it is available to view for “research purposes” at MoMA in New York. I emailed the Research Center and was able to schedule a viewing for a few weeks later. When you watch archived films at the UCLA Film and Television Archive in Los Angeles, or the New York Performing Arts Library, you sit in a tiny cubicle with a television screen and crummy headphones. It was a thrill to walk in to the MoMA Film Study Center to find I had a whole cinema to myself! Next time I have film to watch at MoMA, I’ll be inviting some friends!
Studio: Fox
Director: Paul Sloane
Screenplay: Walter Weems
Music: Henry Thacker Burleigh, Stephen Foster, Howard Jackson, Walter Weems
Choreographer: Fanchon and Marco
Leading Actors:
Clarence Muse (Nappus), Eugene Jackson (Chiquapin), Stepin Fetchit (Gummy), Bernice Pilot (Chloe), Clifford Ingram (Rammey), Mildred Washington (Trailia), Zack Williams (Deacon), Gertrude Howard (Emmy), Dorothy Morrison (Melia), Vivian Smith (Violet), Robert Brooks (True Love), A. C. H. Billbrew (Voodoo woman), Richard Carlyle (White doctor), Bilbrew Chorus
By the beginning of 1929, all the major studios had announced projects featuring all-black casts. Walter White, secretary of the NAACP, wrote in 1929 that this was a natural continuation of the strong representation of “negro artists in the theatre” and in literature. White believed films would start in stereotypes and move to something rich, more nuanced, and created by and with African American artists.
According to Separate Cinema, the film was “originally conceived as a two-reel musical showcase of spirituals and minstrel comedy…” but the rough cuts “so impressed the producers… that the writers expanded it into a feature length film.”
The AFI categorizes films based on a number of criteria, including references in trade magazines. Give the description of Hearts in Dixie in Film Daily (March 3, 1929) as “a musical comedy put over very effectively,” and various ads describing it as "all singing and all dancing" it is surprising the film is not listed as a musical in the AFI Catalog (it is listed as a “drama/comedy” and “African American with songs"). I’m glad I didn’t skip this film, as not only is it historically significant as the first musical to feature a cast of all African-Americans, it is also the first feature film and talkie to do so.
Overall the (white) critics loved Hearts in Dixie. Film Daily declared in June 1929, the film was “another forward step in realism.” Mordaunt Hall wrote the New York Times “this Movietone production is something that is a testimonial for the talking film, much more so than any of the other audible pieces that have come to the screen.” Unfortunately, the racism in the reviews and in the coverage of the film is undeniable. In adverts and press about the film, the actors are always referred to by the color of their skin, and rarely appear in photographs.
A counter to the racism found in the trade magazines is Close Up magazine, a short-lived but excellent periodical “devoted to films as art.” In August 1929, the magazine ran an issue on “negro art in film” championing for a more authentic “negro cinema,” and content written, produced, directed, and starring African American performers.
In her article “The Negro Actor and the American Movies” Geraldyn Dismond described Hearts in Dixie as “pretentious” due its romanticized view of plantation life. Despite this, Dismond praised the film for showing African Americans “not as fools and servants, but as human beings with the same emotions, desires and weaknesses as other people’s…” Dismond firmly believed that “negro films” would challenge racism.
Hearts in Dixie is not commercially available, however it is available to view for “research purposes” at MoMA in New York. I emailed the Research Center and was able to schedule a viewing for a few weeks later. When you watch archived films at the UCLA Film and Television Archive in Los Angeles, or the New York Performing Arts Library, you sit in a tiny cubicle with a television screen and crummy headphones. It was a thrill to walk in to the MoMA Film Study Center to find I had a whole cinema to myself! Next time I have film to watch at MoMA, I’ll be inviting some friends!
A segment on last week’s The Daily Show joked that for white audiences (the Academy) to be okay with films featuring African Americans, the film needs to include slaves, spirituals, and plantations. Hearts in Dixie certainly contains all three, but the message of the film is more than the sum of its parts. As The Encyclopedia of African American Actresses in Film and Television states, the film’s central theme “the empowerment of black youth…[remains] relevant today.”
Prior to the film, Richard Carlyle, the sole white cast member, delivers a prologue to camera. The prologue is still sadly relevant today, especially given the announcement of the 2016 Oscar nominations, the resulting #OscarsSoWhite backlash, and the Academy’s response that they really are working hard to ensure their members include more minorities.
Carlyle reminds the audience that “We are all brothers and sisters in our emotions,” and to allow the cinema to transport us away from our own troubles for a while by watching the trials and tribulations of others. Those others (literally “Other” in the context of the dominance of white audiences) may be “black, yellow, or white,” but as members of the human race, no matter the color of our skin, we all “laugh when we’re happy, and cry when we’re sad”.
Prior to the film, Richard Carlyle, the sole white cast member, delivers a prologue to camera. The prologue is still sadly relevant today, especially given the announcement of the 2016 Oscar nominations, the resulting #OscarsSoWhite backlash, and the Academy’s response that they really are working hard to ensure their members include more minorities.
Carlyle reminds the audience that “We are all brothers and sisters in our emotions,” and to allow the cinema to transport us away from our own troubles for a while by watching the trials and tribulations of others. Those others (literally “Other” in the context of the dominance of white audiences) may be “black, yellow, or white,” but as members of the human race, no matter the color of our skin, we all “laugh when we’re happy, and cry when we’re sad”.
Film Daily advert (March 24, 1929)
The film proper opens with a plaintive gospel rendition of the title song over the credits. The haunting music, performed by the Bilbrew Chorus, is beautifully recorded, and the music remains a highlight throughout the film.
The credits give way to a wide shot of a cotton plantation in the south, with the black workers singing an uptempo spiritual about the hardships of picking cotton. The camera cuts between wide shots of the plantation and close-ups of various workers as they finish work for the day. The men and women are looking forward to relaxing and consuming their “fried chicken.”
The credits give way to a wide shot of a cotton plantation in the south, with the black workers singing an uptempo spiritual about the hardships of picking cotton. The camera cuts between wide shots of the plantation and close-ups of various workers as they finish work for the day. The men and women are looking forward to relaxing and consuming their “fried chicken.”
Still from Close Up Magazine (August 1929)
Photoplay, May 1929
We are soon introduced to Gummy (Stepin Fetchit), a lazy fool who sits around all day and lets everybody else, including his gracious wife Chloe (Bernice Pilot), do all the work. His idea of babysitting is tying a piece of string to his foot and attaching the baby to the other end. The baby sits in the dust, while Gummy sits asleep on his broken chair.
In stark contrast to Gummy is his kindly father-in-law, Nappus, “the sweetest in Pappy in the world.” Played by the incredible Clarence Muse, Nappus worries for his daughter, helps around the house, and sings the children to sleep.
While Nappus and Chloe tend to the children, Chinquapin (Eugene Jackson) and his baby sister, Gummy suddenly finds the energy to attend a party down the road. Choreographed by Fanchon and Marco, a prominent LA-based brother and sister team who also worked on Fox Movietone Follies of 1929, the dancing is joyful and wonderfully staged. Gummy’s lightning speed tap work is a real highlight, and one of the best routines I’ve seen to date. The “Meow Chorus” featuring men singing like cats in four-part harmony is brilliantly executed.
The sweet natured and hard working Chloe shares with Nappus that she has been feeling illl, and tells him about her foreboding dreams of black cats and bad omens. Pappy encourages Chloe to see the doctor, to which she responds, “The doctor’s only good for white folks.”
Chloe and the baby fall ill with “swamp fever,” and the Voodoo Woman is called. Played with conviction by A.C. Bilbrew, the Voodoo Woman enters the house imploring Nappus not to call the white doctor — “Voodoo Woman heal ‘em. White doctor no good.” She stands over the mother and child, singing and praising God. Four women sit behind her, singing and occassionally declaring “amen” and “hallelujah.”
Despairing for his daughter’s life, Nappus runs to the white doctor. When they arrive back home, the doctor checks Chloe and the baby only to discover “they’ve been dead for some time.” Tears running down his cheeks, Nappus cries, “We didn’t know, we just didn’t know.” The scene is underscored to great effect by a solemn spiritual, performed by the unseen Bilbrew Chorus.
Less than a month after Chloe’s death, Gummy seduces another woman into marrying him, and doing all the work. Pappy works to ensure Chinquapin will have the education he never had. He sells his mule and his land to send the boy up north, away from his useless father. He receives criticism from the local pastor, but as Pappy sadly states, “What chance has he got down here?”
The final scene with Pappy and Chinquapin is gut-wrenching. As the gang-plank is lifted on the steam boat headed north, we see Chinquapin’s final view of his beloved grandfather. Chinquapin waves goodbye to Nappus and his childhood sweetheart, and we are left hoping that the boy will one day to return to the town of his childhood.
In stark contrast to Gummy is his kindly father-in-law, Nappus, “the sweetest in Pappy in the world.” Played by the incredible Clarence Muse, Nappus worries for his daughter, helps around the house, and sings the children to sleep.
While Nappus and Chloe tend to the children, Chinquapin (Eugene Jackson) and his baby sister, Gummy suddenly finds the energy to attend a party down the road. Choreographed by Fanchon and Marco, a prominent LA-based brother and sister team who also worked on Fox Movietone Follies of 1929, the dancing is joyful and wonderfully staged. Gummy’s lightning speed tap work is a real highlight, and one of the best routines I’ve seen to date. The “Meow Chorus” featuring men singing like cats in four-part harmony is brilliantly executed.
The sweet natured and hard working Chloe shares with Nappus that she has been feeling illl, and tells him about her foreboding dreams of black cats and bad omens. Pappy encourages Chloe to see the doctor, to which she responds, “The doctor’s only good for white folks.”
Chloe and the baby fall ill with “swamp fever,” and the Voodoo Woman is called. Played with conviction by A.C. Bilbrew, the Voodoo Woman enters the house imploring Nappus not to call the white doctor — “Voodoo Woman heal ‘em. White doctor no good.” She stands over the mother and child, singing and praising God. Four women sit behind her, singing and occassionally declaring “amen” and “hallelujah.”
Despairing for his daughter’s life, Nappus runs to the white doctor. When they arrive back home, the doctor checks Chloe and the baby only to discover “they’ve been dead for some time.” Tears running down his cheeks, Nappus cries, “We didn’t know, we just didn’t know.” The scene is underscored to great effect by a solemn spiritual, performed by the unseen Bilbrew Chorus.
Less than a month after Chloe’s death, Gummy seduces another woman into marrying him, and doing all the work. Pappy works to ensure Chinquapin will have the education he never had. He sells his mule and his land to send the boy up north, away from his useless father. He receives criticism from the local pastor, but as Pappy sadly states, “What chance has he got down here?”
The final scene with Pappy and Chinquapin is gut-wrenching. As the gang-plank is lifted on the steam boat headed north, we see Chinquapin’s final view of his beloved grandfather. Chinquapin waves goodbye to Nappus and his childhood sweetheart, and we are left hoping that the boy will one day to return to the town of his childhood.
Photoplay, April 1929
As Barrios states, “it’s impossible not to squirm in discomfort at the tendency to show the characters as charmingly quaint and simple.” The power of Hearts in Dixie is its ability to overcome these stereotypes with a genuinely touching a story about a grandfather who wants the best for his grandson.
In Every Step a Struggle: Interviews with Seven Who Shaped the African-American Image in Movies, Henry Dobbs stated that while “the filmmakers seemed “sincere” in their efforts…the movie has done an injustice by transplanting “the lachrymose myths of Uncle Tom’s Cabin once more to the screen.” Similarly, Alexander Walker claims “African-American critics...on the one hand...praise[d] the rare appearance of a “black” film; and, on the other hand, showing concern over the caricatures blacks had to perform.”
As The Encyclopedia of African American Actresses in Film and Television states, Hearts in Dixie “‘forward thinking’ in its day”, but “hopelessly racist by today’s standards.”
The most problematic caricature is that of Gummy, the lazy man — “You’re just nasty hopeless ain’t you,” “Act like you is a man…good for nothin’ hunk of licorice.” Played by Lincoln Perry under his stage name Stepin Fetchit, critics and historians remain divided over whether Perry’s portrayal was subversive or subservient. Barrios writes that Perry was possibly “mocking an oppressive white culture by expanding on its prejudices in the most garish fashion possible.” Hearts in Dixie was Perry’s breakout film, and his overwhelming popularity as the lay-about black man led Fox to sign Perry to a long-term contract, the first African American performer to do so.
Writer Walter Weems is credited with creating Lincoln Perry’s lazy character. In Every Step a Struggle, Clarence Muse stated “...I was seeing Mr. Weems sit him down; talking to Stepin Fetchit for hours. He’d say, “‘Step,’ I’m creating for you a characterization that’s going to make you very famous, going to get you lots of dough.” And they would rehearse him day after day in slow speed…”
In Every Step a Struggle: Interviews with Seven Who Shaped the African-American Image in Movies, Henry Dobbs stated that while “the filmmakers seemed “sincere” in their efforts…the movie has done an injustice by transplanting “the lachrymose myths of Uncle Tom’s Cabin once more to the screen.” Similarly, Alexander Walker claims “African-American critics...on the one hand...praise[d] the rare appearance of a “black” film; and, on the other hand, showing concern over the caricatures blacks had to perform.”
As The Encyclopedia of African American Actresses in Film and Television states, Hearts in Dixie “‘forward thinking’ in its day”, but “hopelessly racist by today’s standards.”
The most problematic caricature is that of Gummy, the lazy man — “You’re just nasty hopeless ain’t you,” “Act like you is a man…good for nothin’ hunk of licorice.” Played by Lincoln Perry under his stage name Stepin Fetchit, critics and historians remain divided over whether Perry’s portrayal was subversive or subservient. Barrios writes that Perry was possibly “mocking an oppressive white culture by expanding on its prejudices in the most garish fashion possible.” Hearts in Dixie was Perry’s breakout film, and his overwhelming popularity as the lay-about black man led Fox to sign Perry to a long-term contract, the first African American performer to do so.
Writer Walter Weems is credited with creating Lincoln Perry’s lazy character. In Every Step a Struggle, Clarence Muse stated “...I was seeing Mr. Weems sit him down; talking to Stepin Fetchit for hours. He’d say, “‘Step,’ I’m creating for you a characterization that’s going to make you very famous, going to get you lots of dough.” And they would rehearse him day after day in slow speed…”
Clarence Muse is outstanding as Gummy’s opposite, Nappus. Muse was an influential, multi-talented, performer and writer who appeared on stage, film, television and radio in a career that spanned over five decades. As a founding member of the Lincoln Players and the Harlem Lafayette Theatre (one of the first theatres to desegregate its audience in 1913), he was a pioneer of the black theatre movement of the 1920s. According to Frank Manchel, “the black actor with the most screen credits up to 1972 [and]... one of the most controversial black performers to outsiders who wanted to reform Hollywood.” Initially trained as a lawyer, Muse went into show business after realizing opportunities for black lawyers were far and few between. Muse also worked as a composer, and wrote the musical Way Down South (1938) as well as Louis Armstrong’s theme song, “When It’s Sleepy Time Down South.” Muse was the first African American to direct on Broadway, with Run, Little Chillun in 1943.
A.C. Hilbrew, The Afro American (September 21, 1929)
The undoubtable highlight of the film is the music, performed by the sixty member Bilbrew Chorus under the direction of A.C. Bilbrew. Bilbrew, also known as A.C. Bilbrew and Madame Bilbrew, was a renowned choral conductor and activist in Los Angeles. Bilbrew started out as an accompanist for the Hall Johnson Choir before becoming the conductor of the first African American chorus in Hollywood. She went on to direct the radio choir of “a major Los Angeles black church,” and was “famous for her Ladies Minstrel… and her much known Bilbrew Quartette.” The Quartette performed on the Orpheum Circuit, and on radio. She was also a poet, composer, and teacher. Bilbrew was a prominent activist, and her song “This is Freedom Day” became the anthem of National Freedom Day. The A C Bilbrew Library in Los Angeles is named in her honor.
The score was composed of music by three prominent musicians. Henry Thacker Burleigh was an African American composer and singer who is credited with helping to establish an “American School” in classical music. After studying under the tutelage of Dvorak at the National Conservatory of Music in New York City, Burleigh went on to a successful career performing, touring, and composing over 260 works for solo voice. He created nearly 190 choral arrangements, including arrangements of spirituals which were performed by high profile musicians. Burleigh was a soloist at both St George’s Episcopal Church, and Temple Emanu-El (the first African American soloist), for almost fifty years. He was a prominent and influential editor at Ricordi Record Company for almost thirty years and was reportedly the first African American singer to have a performance recorded.
Credited as “America’s First Composer,” Stephen Foster worked during the mid-19th century. His catalogue of over 200 songs includes “Oh Susanna,” “Swanee River,” “Camptown Races,” and “Beautiful Dreamer.” Sadly Foster was an alcoholic and badly mismanaged his funds, and despite his extensive catalogue of popular and widely known songs, died penniless. He was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970.
Howard Jackson was a composer, conductor, arranger, and music director. He worked as a performer, composer, and orchestrator for the Ziegfeld Follies in the 1930s.
The score was composed of music by three prominent musicians. Henry Thacker Burleigh was an African American composer and singer who is credited with helping to establish an “American School” in classical music. After studying under the tutelage of Dvorak at the National Conservatory of Music in New York City, Burleigh went on to a successful career performing, touring, and composing over 260 works for solo voice. He created nearly 190 choral arrangements, including arrangements of spirituals which were performed by high profile musicians. Burleigh was a soloist at both St George’s Episcopal Church, and Temple Emanu-El (the first African American soloist), for almost fifty years. He was a prominent and influential editor at Ricordi Record Company for almost thirty years and was reportedly the first African American singer to have a performance recorded.
Credited as “America’s First Composer,” Stephen Foster worked during the mid-19th century. His catalogue of over 200 songs includes “Oh Susanna,” “Swanee River,” “Camptown Races,” and “Beautiful Dreamer.” Sadly Foster was an alcoholic and badly mismanaged his funds, and despite his extensive catalogue of popular and widely known songs, died penniless. He was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970.
Howard Jackson was a composer, conductor, arranger, and music director. He worked as a performer, composer, and orchestrator for the Ziegfeld Follies in the 1930s.
Film Daily ad (March 13, 1929)
Despite the racist undertones Hearts in Dixie was a highly enjoyable film. The dancing and singing are truly fantastic and hold up remarkably well, even if some of the dated sentiments about white superiority and simplistic portrayals of African American life in the south do not.