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Alice White’s forgotten third talkie.
Image from the Woolworths Museum
Date of Release: Oct 27, 1929
Studio: First National
Director: William Beaudine
Screenplay: Adele Comandini, Richard Weil, Edward Ludwig
Music: George W. Meyer, Al Bryan, M.K. Jerome
Leading Actors: Alice White (Pat King), Charles Delaney (Bill Harrigan), Wheeler Oakman (Lawrence Mayfield), Ben Hall (Jerry Donnelly), Rita Flynn (Tille Hart), Gladden James (Dowling), Bert Moorhouse (Dave), Patricia Caron (Cleo), William Orlamond (Pa Donnelly), Milla Davenport (Ma Donnelly)
Following on from Show Girl (1928) and Broadway Babies (1929), The Girl from Woolworth’s was Alice White’s third talkie.
This film is a strange anomaly in my research in that there is very little information available about it. It only receives a footnote mention in Richard Barrios’ in A Song in the Dark, which states that the film was re-shot with Mervyn LeRoy directing, as the “first version…turned out poorly.”
It is conceivable Mervyn LeRoy assisted in the direction of The Girl from Woolworth's. He had directed Alice White in the earlier 1929 film Broadway Babies, and worked with her again on the popular 1930 film Show Girl in Hollywood.
The credited director, William Beaudine, started out as a silent film actor and went on to become one of the most prolific directors of his time. He directed over 300 films and films and television shows, working in the UK and America, and for most of the major studios. Although he gained a reputation for low-budget films, he was highly respected within the industry for his efficiency, and economical style of directing. He was the father of production manager and producer William Beaudine Jr.
It seems The Girl from Woolworth’s received a limited release, and little publicity, though it enjoyed strong box office sales.
The Woolworths Museum has limited information and some media, and describes the film was “a smash at the box office” in the USA and UK.
The Girl from Woolworth’s opened at the Strand in New York on October 27, 1929. The critics were divided in their response. Motion Picture News described the film as White’s “best work of her career,” and Evening World stated she “puts over her stuff surprisingly well.”
The Graphic meanwhile described White as “a course, untalented young woman,” and Mordaunt Hall in his review for the New York Times stated she was “vapid, ingenuous and camera conscious.”
The Billings Gazette found the film be well directed, “Human and direct and simple.” While Mordaunt Hall found it to be “far short of being a satisfactory presentation.” Hall was also critical of the stylish and beautiful costumes, which were incongruous with the characters' meager incomes.
Cecilia Ager of the Variety Women’s Page described the costumes in detail:
Studio: First National
Director: William Beaudine
Screenplay: Adele Comandini, Richard Weil, Edward Ludwig
Music: George W. Meyer, Al Bryan, M.K. Jerome
Leading Actors: Alice White (Pat King), Charles Delaney (Bill Harrigan), Wheeler Oakman (Lawrence Mayfield), Ben Hall (Jerry Donnelly), Rita Flynn (Tille Hart), Gladden James (Dowling), Bert Moorhouse (Dave), Patricia Caron (Cleo), William Orlamond (Pa Donnelly), Milla Davenport (Ma Donnelly)
Following on from Show Girl (1928) and Broadway Babies (1929), The Girl from Woolworth’s was Alice White’s third talkie.
This film is a strange anomaly in my research in that there is very little information available about it. It only receives a footnote mention in Richard Barrios’ in A Song in the Dark, which states that the film was re-shot with Mervyn LeRoy directing, as the “first version…turned out poorly.”
It is conceivable Mervyn LeRoy assisted in the direction of The Girl from Woolworth's. He had directed Alice White in the earlier 1929 film Broadway Babies, and worked with her again on the popular 1930 film Show Girl in Hollywood.
The credited director, William Beaudine, started out as a silent film actor and went on to become one of the most prolific directors of his time. He directed over 300 films and films and television shows, working in the UK and America, and for most of the major studios. Although he gained a reputation for low-budget films, he was highly respected within the industry for his efficiency, and economical style of directing. He was the father of production manager and producer William Beaudine Jr.
It seems The Girl from Woolworth’s received a limited release, and little publicity, though it enjoyed strong box office sales.
The Woolworths Museum has limited information and some media, and describes the film was “a smash at the box office” in the USA and UK.
The Girl from Woolworth’s opened at the Strand in New York on October 27, 1929. The critics were divided in their response. Motion Picture News described the film as White’s “best work of her career,” and Evening World stated she “puts over her stuff surprisingly well.”
The Graphic meanwhile described White as “a course, untalented young woman,” and Mordaunt Hall in his review for the New York Times stated she was “vapid, ingenuous and camera conscious.”
The Billings Gazette found the film be well directed, “Human and direct and simple.” While Mordaunt Hall found it to be “far short of being a satisfactory presentation.” Hall was also critical of the stylish and beautiful costumes, which were incongruous with the characters' meager incomes.
Cecilia Ager of the Variety Women’s Page described the costumes in detail:
…Alice White... is clothed in typical night-club costumes and very fetching, too. One-piece tights are appliqued with gold and sequins, with a high neck in front ending with an ostrich collar. Skirt in back is long ostrich plumes. Gold headdress embroidered with jewels. Standard, but worn better than standard. An evening dress doesn’t fare so well. So tight-fitting, it wrinkles a bit of tulle attached to the skirt merely looks skimp. There is a tulle flower on the shoulder.”
The Girl from Woolworth’s told the story of Pat King (Alice White), a singer at the Woolworth’s Demonstration Counter, who dreams of performing on Broadway. She meets and falls in love with Bill Harrigan (Charles Delaney). Harrigan works on the subway by day, and plays saxophone by night. Pat lands a chance to sing in a club, but the manager is only interested in one thing. After the manager makes his advances, Pat decides to quit being a career girl, and marries Harrigan.
The script was written by Adele Comandini, Richard Weil, and Edward Ludwig. There is little information about the three writers. Comandini wrote thirty screenplays and was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Writing for Three Smart Girls in 1936. Her other credits include Jane Eyre (1934), and Christmas in Connecticut (1945).
Actor Charles Delaney appeared predominantly in action and Western films, and his career spanned over five decades. The supporting cast were predominantly silent film actors who found their roles became increasingly diminished in the years following the introduction of talkies.
The music by George B. Meyer and Al Bryan can be heard on the Woolworths Museum site. George W. Meyer was a composer and lyricist who worked in Tin Pan Alley. His songs include “For Me and My Gal,” “Dixie Dreams,” and “Beautiful Annabelle Lee.” Al 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.” Both composers were inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970.
Except for the trailer, which was found by the Vitaphone Project in 1997, The Girl from Woolworth’s is considered a lost film.
The script was written by Adele Comandini, Richard Weil, and Edward Ludwig. There is little information about the three writers. Comandini wrote thirty screenplays and was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Writing for Three Smart Girls in 1936. Her other credits include Jane Eyre (1934), and Christmas in Connecticut (1945).
Actor Charles Delaney appeared predominantly in action and Western films, and his career spanned over five decades. The supporting cast were predominantly silent film actors who found their roles became increasingly diminished in the years following the introduction of talkies.
The music by George B. Meyer and Al Bryan can be heard on the Woolworths Museum site. George W. Meyer was a composer and lyricist who worked in Tin Pan Alley. His songs include “For Me and My Gal,” “Dixie Dreams,” and “Beautiful Annabelle Lee.” Al 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.” Both composers were inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970.
Except for the trailer, which was found by the Vitaphone Project in 1997, The Girl from Woolworth’s is considered a lost film.
- Published on
A fascinating movie that is at once brilliant and banal, technically spectacular, and completely overdone.
Date of Release: May 27, 1929
Studio: Universal
Director: Paul Fejos
Screenplay: Philip Dunning and George Abbott (original play), Edward T. Lowe Jr. (adaptation), Charles Furthman (dialogue)
Music: Con Conrad, Archie Gottler, Sidney Mitchell, Howard Jackson (orchestrations)
Choreographer: Maurice L. Kusell
Leading Actors: Glenn Tryon (Roy Lane), Evelyn Brent (Pearl), Merna Kennedy (Billie Moore), Thomas E. Jackson (Dan McCorn), Robert Ellis (Steve Crandall), Otis Harlan (‘Porky’ Thompson), Paul Porcasi (Nick Verdis), Marion Lord (Lil Rice), Fritz Feld (Mose Levett), Leslie Fenton (‘Scar’ Edwards), Arthur Housman (Dolph), George Davis (Joe), Betty Francisco (Mazie), Edyth Flynn (Ruby), Florence Dudley (Ann), Ruby McCoy (Grace), Gus Arnheim (Orchestra Leader)
Broadway has been made available to the general public as a special feature on Criterion’s DVD release of the 1928 silent film by the same director, Lonesome. Although more of a “drama with songs” than a musical, Broadway is a fascinating and surprisingly watchable film.
The original play of the same name, by Philip Dunning and George Abbott, opened in 1926 was a huge hit on Broadway and ran for 603 performances. Philip Dunning worked as an actor, writer, director, and producer for over twenty years, often in collaboration with George Abbott. He wrote predominantly for the stage, and several of his plays were adapted into film. The plays Broadway (1926) and 20th Century (1932) which Dunning wrote and produced respectively, were his most successful projects.
George Abbott is a name that will make many appearances in this blog (if I can ever get past 1929!). Masterworks Broadway describes Abbott as “One of the most important and admired men in the entire history of Broadway – indeed, some have said that he WAS the history of Broadway…” With over 100 Broadway credits to his name, including some of the most well-known and cherished shows of the 20th century (including Damn Yankees, Wonderful Town, The Pajama Game, Flora and the Red Menace, and A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum), and over forty film credits (including All Quiet on the Western Front, and film versions of his musicals), Abbott was a tour de force. Broadway was his first big hit after several years struggling as an actor in New York. He went on to earn many awards including 7 Tony Awards, the Pulitzer Prize for Drama, and an Oscar nomination. He died at the age of 107.
Like the play, the film Broadway is a gangster drama set in a New York cabaret club. The backstage setting provides a quirky backdrop for the shady bootlegging criminals, but does not add anything to the plot.
As reported by Variety, Universal paid $200,000 for the screen rights, and the film became a production of many firsts. It was the first million dollar talkie, the first to film with a crane, the first to use tungsten lamps in filming (tungsten lamps create a warm light which is most similar to natural daylight, and allows for colors to be accurately captured on film), and the first to use (poor) Spanish dubbing when it played in Spanish-speaking countries.
The critics were divided between those who had seen the stage show, and those who had not. Critics who had seen the stage show found the movie to be overdone. The film sets were too grandiose, the chorus girls too numerous, and the flashy camera angles too distracting for the plot and dialogue. The critics who had not seen the stage show were far more generous in their praise, calling the film “high quality,” “impressive,” and “nerve-gripping.”
Overall, critics resoundingly praised the technical brilliance of the film and Fejos’ direction.
In an attempt to make the movie even more exciting than the hit play, director Paul Fejos decided to up the scale, setting the story in an impossibly lavish club, and filming with a specially manufactured 50ft crane.
Studio: Universal
Director: Paul Fejos
Screenplay: Philip Dunning and George Abbott (original play), Edward T. Lowe Jr. (adaptation), Charles Furthman (dialogue)
Music: Con Conrad, Archie Gottler, Sidney Mitchell, Howard Jackson (orchestrations)
Choreographer: Maurice L. Kusell
Leading Actors: Glenn Tryon (Roy Lane), Evelyn Brent (Pearl), Merna Kennedy (Billie Moore), Thomas E. Jackson (Dan McCorn), Robert Ellis (Steve Crandall), Otis Harlan (‘Porky’ Thompson), Paul Porcasi (Nick Verdis), Marion Lord (Lil Rice), Fritz Feld (Mose Levett), Leslie Fenton (‘Scar’ Edwards), Arthur Housman (Dolph), George Davis (Joe), Betty Francisco (Mazie), Edyth Flynn (Ruby), Florence Dudley (Ann), Ruby McCoy (Grace), Gus Arnheim (Orchestra Leader)
Broadway has been made available to the general public as a special feature on Criterion’s DVD release of the 1928 silent film by the same director, Lonesome. Although more of a “drama with songs” than a musical, Broadway is a fascinating and surprisingly watchable film.
The original play of the same name, by Philip Dunning and George Abbott, opened in 1926 was a huge hit on Broadway and ran for 603 performances. Philip Dunning worked as an actor, writer, director, and producer for over twenty years, often in collaboration with George Abbott. He wrote predominantly for the stage, and several of his plays were adapted into film. The plays Broadway (1926) and 20th Century (1932) which Dunning wrote and produced respectively, were his most successful projects.
George Abbott is a name that will make many appearances in this blog (if I can ever get past 1929!). Masterworks Broadway describes Abbott as “One of the most important and admired men in the entire history of Broadway – indeed, some have said that he WAS the history of Broadway…” With over 100 Broadway credits to his name, including some of the most well-known and cherished shows of the 20th century (including Damn Yankees, Wonderful Town, The Pajama Game, Flora and the Red Menace, and A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum), and over forty film credits (including All Quiet on the Western Front, and film versions of his musicals), Abbott was a tour de force. Broadway was his first big hit after several years struggling as an actor in New York. He went on to earn many awards including 7 Tony Awards, the Pulitzer Prize for Drama, and an Oscar nomination. He died at the age of 107.
Like the play, the film Broadway is a gangster drama set in a New York cabaret club. The backstage setting provides a quirky backdrop for the shady bootlegging criminals, but does not add anything to the plot.
As reported by Variety, Universal paid $200,000 for the screen rights, and the film became a production of many firsts. It was the first million dollar talkie, the first to film with a crane, the first to use tungsten lamps in filming (tungsten lamps create a warm light which is most similar to natural daylight, and allows for colors to be accurately captured on film), and the first to use (poor) Spanish dubbing when it played in Spanish-speaking countries.
The critics were divided between those who had seen the stage show, and those who had not. Critics who had seen the stage show found the movie to be overdone. The film sets were too grandiose, the chorus girls too numerous, and the flashy camera angles too distracting for the plot and dialogue. The critics who had not seen the stage show were far more generous in their praise, calling the film “high quality,” “impressive,” and “nerve-gripping.”
Overall, critics resoundingly praised the technical brilliance of the film and Fejos’ direction.
In an attempt to make the movie even more exciting than the hit play, director Paul Fejos decided to up the scale, setting the story in an impossibly lavish club, and filming with a specially manufactured 50ft crane.
According to a wonderful interview with Hal Mohr (included as a special on the DVD), the crane was self-propelled and had its own generator. It could hold two cameras and up to six people, and was so large that a special studio had to be built to accommodate it. Film critic Dave Kehr states that crane remained in use for decades, and became known as the “Broadway crane”.
The crane is a fascinating element of Broadway. The fluid shots, and the incredible set built to capitalize on the specially-created technology, are no doubt well done, but they don’t add anything to the film. It’s all show and no substance.
Visually, Broadway is a far cry from other talkies of this period. With cinematography by Hal Mohr, who would later go on to win two Academy Awards (A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1935) and The Phantom of the Opera (1943)), the scenes are beautifully shot, and carefully composed — even those not filmed with the infamous crane. The camera angles are dynamic, with rapid shifts between perspectives, mid-shots and close-ups. The visual composition is aided by beautiful costumes, designed by Johanna Mathieson.
The visual feast is evident from the opening scene, where a giant muscle man seems to be standing right on top of Times Square, laughing and sloshing champagne. The image is surreal, and doesn’t appear again until the end of the film. The aerial shots of the lights of Broadway, imposed over images of bands playing, hoofers dancing, and festive parties, make for a dynamic and exciting opening sequence.
The first few scenes are distinct for their use of sound. When the club owner, Nick (played by Paul Porcasi, reprising his stage role), heads backstage and closes the door, the music becomes softer. No time is wasted setting up musical numbers or explaining why people are holding instruments. All the musical numbers take place in the club, and people sing and dance because they are performing. Although the sound is occasionally low quality, the dialogue and use of sound effects are surprisingly natural.
The script is strong, and a far cry from the other musicals of this period. It is refreshing to watch something with a bit of grit and genuine drama. The pace slows somewhat once the dialogue starts, yet the dialogue is witty and snappy.
Like the crane, the musical numbers are gorgeous but superfluous. The first song, “Hittin’ the Ceiling” is a fun uptempo jazz number. The set manages to overwhelm the thirty odd chorus girls, dressed as matching Manhattan buildings with fabulous black tutus and outrageous headpieces. The subsequent numbers, “Let’s Play Whoopee,” “Chicken or Egg,” have a similar feel, and almost identical choreography.
Maurice L. Kusell was a choreographer and teacher, and was reportedly “one of the first to use 100 to 300 dancers or more in intricate dance steps and stagings.” His other credits include Puttin’ On the Ritz and Be Yourself (1930). Kusell’s skill is evident in Broadway, and the tap dancing during “Chicken and Egg” is particularly well-done.
The technicolor finale, a reprise of “Hittin’ the Ceiling” is disappointing. The sound and visuals are muddy, and the choreography, costumes, and music are carbon copies of what we have seen before.
The crane is a fascinating element of Broadway. The fluid shots, and the incredible set built to capitalize on the specially-created technology, are no doubt well done, but they don’t add anything to the film. It’s all show and no substance.
Visually, Broadway is a far cry from other talkies of this period. With cinematography by Hal Mohr, who would later go on to win two Academy Awards (A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1935) and The Phantom of the Opera (1943)), the scenes are beautifully shot, and carefully composed — even those not filmed with the infamous crane. The camera angles are dynamic, with rapid shifts between perspectives, mid-shots and close-ups. The visual composition is aided by beautiful costumes, designed by Johanna Mathieson.
The visual feast is evident from the opening scene, where a giant muscle man seems to be standing right on top of Times Square, laughing and sloshing champagne. The image is surreal, and doesn’t appear again until the end of the film. The aerial shots of the lights of Broadway, imposed over images of bands playing, hoofers dancing, and festive parties, make for a dynamic and exciting opening sequence.
The first few scenes are distinct for their use of sound. When the club owner, Nick (played by Paul Porcasi, reprising his stage role), heads backstage and closes the door, the music becomes softer. No time is wasted setting up musical numbers or explaining why people are holding instruments. All the musical numbers take place in the club, and people sing and dance because they are performing. Although the sound is occasionally low quality, the dialogue and use of sound effects are surprisingly natural.
The script is strong, and a far cry from the other musicals of this period. It is refreshing to watch something with a bit of grit and genuine drama. The pace slows somewhat once the dialogue starts, yet the dialogue is witty and snappy.
Like the crane, the musical numbers are gorgeous but superfluous. The first song, “Hittin’ the Ceiling” is a fun uptempo jazz number. The set manages to overwhelm the thirty odd chorus girls, dressed as matching Manhattan buildings with fabulous black tutus and outrageous headpieces. The subsequent numbers, “Let’s Play Whoopee,” “Chicken or Egg,” have a similar feel, and almost identical choreography.
Maurice L. Kusell was a choreographer and teacher, and was reportedly “one of the first to use 100 to 300 dancers or more in intricate dance steps and stagings.” His other credits include Puttin’ On the Ritz and Be Yourself (1930). Kusell’s skill is evident in Broadway, and the tap dancing during “Chicken and Egg” is particularly well-done.
The technicolor finale, a reprise of “Hittin’ the Ceiling” is disappointing. The sound and visuals are muddy, and the choreography, costumes, and music are carbon copies of what we have seen before.
The production numbers are a mere distraction to the more dramatic events happening backstage and the camera often (frustratingly) leaves to find the action elsewhere mid-dance. The numbers do not add to the plot or provide insight into the characters’ motives, and, aside from their technical ingenuity, the film would be stronger if they were cut.
Broadway would also have benefited from a stronger male lead. Glen Tryon as the aspiring hoofer who has "got personality" is sadly without charisma. Tryon acted predominantly during the silent era for various studios including Hal Roach, and, later, Universal. His performance in director Paul Fejos’ more acclaimed Lonesome is described as the performance of his career. According to Tryon's biographer, Richard M Roberts, after the introduction of talkies, Tryon “had the sense to move behind the camera,” and found success as a comedy writer and producer.
Broadway would also have benefited from a stronger male lead. Glen Tryon as the aspiring hoofer who has "got personality" is sadly without charisma. Tryon acted predominantly during the silent era for various studios including Hal Roach, and, later, Universal. His performance in director Paul Fejos’ more acclaimed Lonesome is described as the performance of his career. According to Tryon's biographer, Richard M Roberts, after the introduction of talkies, Tryon “had the sense to move behind the camera,” and found success as a comedy writer and producer.
Aside from the spectacular visuals, the strength of the film lies in a few stand-out performances. Evelyn Brent is brilliant as the put-out chorus girl, Pearl. Her character is driven by real needs and wants, and her scowl (for which she was famous) is utterly killer. George Davis, as the silent ever-suffering butler Joe, possesses excellent comic timing, and steals all the scenes he is in.
One of my favorite elements of Broadway are the sassy chorus girls. They are rude, backstabbing and mean, and unafraid to say what they think. Women who drive the comedy and the plot are a refreshing break from the sappy women who need men to be happy.
Director Fejos only spent a few years in Hollywood, leaving the United States, and eventually commercial film-making altogether, as he felt creatively constricted by the Hollywood system. His brilliant and innovative vision is strongly evident in Broadway, and we are lucky that Criterion has made the film available.
One of my favorite elements of Broadway are the sassy chorus girls. They are rude, backstabbing and mean, and unafraid to say what they think. Women who drive the comedy and the plot are a refreshing break from the sappy women who need men to be happy.
Director Fejos only spent a few years in Hollywood, leaving the United States, and eventually commercial film-making altogether, as he felt creatively constricted by the Hollywood system. His brilliant and innovative vision is strongly evident in Broadway, and we are lucky that Criterion has made the film available.
- 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.