- Published on
A touching backstage drama with songs.
Hal Skelly and Nancy Carroll, Screenland, Nov 1929
Date of Release: Sept 7, 1929
Studio: Paramount
Director: John Cromwell
Screenplay: Benjamin Glazer, George Manker Walters, Julian Johnson
Music: Sam Coslow, Walter Donaldson, Annie Fortesque Harrison, Maude Nugent, Leo Robin, Richard A. Whiting
Choreographer: Earl Lindsay
Leading Actors: Hal Skelly ([Ralph] "Skid" Johnson), Nancy Carroll (Bonny [Lee] King), Dorothy Revier (Sylvia Marco), Ralph Theadore (Harvey Howell), Charles Brown (Lefty), Al St. John (Bozo), May Boley (Gussie), Oscar Levant (Jerry), Gladys Du Bois (Miss Sherman), James Quinn (Jimmy), James Farley (Champ Melvin), George Irving (Minister), Thelma McNeal (Gilded girl, "Lady of India"), John Cromwell (Doorkeeper), Edward Sutherland (Theater attendant), Amazon Chorus Girls: Gordona Bennet, Miss La Reno, Cora Beach Shumway, Charlotte Ogden, Kay Deslys, Madga Blom
The stage play Burlesque, written by Arthur Hopkins and George Manker Watters, premiered on Broadway in September 1927. It ran for 372 performances and became the basis for three movie musicals — The Dance of Life (1929), Swing High, Swing Low (1937) and When My Baby Smiles at Me (1948). The play was revived on Broadway, starring Bert Lahr, in 1946.
Paramount opted to change the title to The Dance of Life, as they were concerned that the fading popularity of burlesque would keep audiences away.
Screenland (Feb 1930) reported that The Dance of Life was made “under trying conditions.” The new Paramount sound-proof studio had “burned” the day after it was completed, and as a result the cast and crew had to work through the night, often until dawn, to avoid the noise of car traffic ruining the shots.
Studio: Paramount
Director: John Cromwell
Screenplay: Benjamin Glazer, George Manker Walters, Julian Johnson
Music: Sam Coslow, Walter Donaldson, Annie Fortesque Harrison, Maude Nugent, Leo Robin, Richard A. Whiting
Choreographer: Earl Lindsay
Leading Actors: Hal Skelly ([Ralph] "Skid" Johnson), Nancy Carroll (Bonny [Lee] King), Dorothy Revier (Sylvia Marco), Ralph Theadore (Harvey Howell), Charles Brown (Lefty), Al St. John (Bozo), May Boley (Gussie), Oscar Levant (Jerry), Gladys Du Bois (Miss Sherman), James Quinn (Jimmy), James Farley (Champ Melvin), George Irving (Minister), Thelma McNeal (Gilded girl, "Lady of India"), John Cromwell (Doorkeeper), Edward Sutherland (Theater attendant), Amazon Chorus Girls: Gordona Bennet, Miss La Reno, Cora Beach Shumway, Charlotte Ogden, Kay Deslys, Madga Blom
The stage play Burlesque, written by Arthur Hopkins and George Manker Watters, premiered on Broadway in September 1927. It ran for 372 performances and became the basis for three movie musicals — The Dance of Life (1929), Swing High, Swing Low (1937) and When My Baby Smiles at Me (1948). The play was revived on Broadway, starring Bert Lahr, in 1946.
Paramount opted to change the title to The Dance of Life, as they were concerned that the fading popularity of burlesque would keep audiences away.
Screenland (Feb 1930) reported that The Dance of Life was made “under trying conditions.” The new Paramount sound-proof studio had “burned” the day after it was completed, and as a result the cast and crew had to work through the night, often until dawn, to avoid the noise of car traffic ruining the shots.
Theatre advertisements (Oct 12, 1929)
The film promoted itself as a “Great Revue Romance.” As reported in Motion Picture News (Oct 12, 1929) several theatres used live performers dancing in the windows of the theatre to attract pundits. At the Florida Theatre in Jacksonville, the spectacle was complete with a Victrola attached to a loudspeaker that “could be heard for blocks.” The stunt proved so popular on its first day that police had to be called in to keep the crowd moving. On the second day, the enthusiastic crowds cracked the glass window!
The promotions paid off, and The Dance of Life opened to strong audiences and rave reviews. The Film Daily (Aug 18, 1929) wrote “A finely executed drama of the show world.” Picture Play (Nov 1929) claimed the film would “rank with the finest of the new season.” The Education Screen (Oct 1929) enthusiastically agreed, “Elaborate and super sophisticated backstage story… One of the best of its breed to date.”
The critics were right. Some troubling gender politics aside, the story is touching and tragic and a far cry from the fluff of earlier backstage musicals. The plot centers around an excellent clown, Skid Johnson (Hal Skelley) and a mediocre dancer Bonny King (Nancy Carroll), who finding themselves both out of work pair up as a duo. They land a job in a mediocre burlesque troupe and eventually fall in love. To avoid Bonny being fired from the show, the pair decide to get married. Bonny soon realizes Skid is an alcoholic, and determines to make a better life for him. Skid is picked up by Ziegfeld to join his Broadway show, and Skid abandons Bonny for the glitz and glamor of Broadway. Bonny is about to re-marry, this time a loving and devoted millionaire, and realizing Skid needs her, gives up a life of luxury and comfort to stay with him.
Nancy Carroll received universally good notices for her performance as Bonny. The Film Daily (Aug 1929) wrote Carroll “emerges with flying colors,” and The Educational Screen stated that her acting was the best feature of the film. Her singing and dancing skills come across as mediocre in the film, but her straight scenes are genuinely affecting. It is easy to see why audiences of the day loved her, and that Carroll reportedly received the most fan mail of any Paramount starlet. In 1929, Carroll also appeared in Sweetie and Close Harmony.
The real star of the show is Hal Skelly, reprising the role he played on Broadway. It was considered his best role, and he shines as the tragic clown who cannot control his alcoholism. Really only at the beginning of a promising film career, which also included Behind the Make-Up (1930), and The Struggle (1931), Skelly was killed in an accident when his car was crossing a railroad track.
Although rarely mentioned by the critics, another standout performance was by Dorothy Revier, playing the wisecracking buxom Sylvia Marco. Revier was a classically trained dancer I imagine being in an older woman in Hollywood is the only reason her career didn’t last long beyond the silent era. Her comic timing, witty line delivery, and screen presence are excellent.
Although not the driving force of the story, The Dance of Life has several song and dance numbers. Unlike other hit songs from this period which tended to be upbeat jazz numbers, “True Blue Lou” was a plaintive ballad. Delivered with heart breaking sincerity by Skelly in full clown make-up, the number foreshadows Bonny’s devotion to Skid, and is a highlight of the film.
The promotions paid off, and The Dance of Life opened to strong audiences and rave reviews. The Film Daily (Aug 18, 1929) wrote “A finely executed drama of the show world.” Picture Play (Nov 1929) claimed the film would “rank with the finest of the new season.” The Education Screen (Oct 1929) enthusiastically agreed, “Elaborate and super sophisticated backstage story… One of the best of its breed to date.”
The critics were right. Some troubling gender politics aside, the story is touching and tragic and a far cry from the fluff of earlier backstage musicals. The plot centers around an excellent clown, Skid Johnson (Hal Skelley) and a mediocre dancer Bonny King (Nancy Carroll), who finding themselves both out of work pair up as a duo. They land a job in a mediocre burlesque troupe and eventually fall in love. To avoid Bonny being fired from the show, the pair decide to get married. Bonny soon realizes Skid is an alcoholic, and determines to make a better life for him. Skid is picked up by Ziegfeld to join his Broadway show, and Skid abandons Bonny for the glitz and glamor of Broadway. Bonny is about to re-marry, this time a loving and devoted millionaire, and realizing Skid needs her, gives up a life of luxury and comfort to stay with him.
Nancy Carroll received universally good notices for her performance as Bonny. The Film Daily (Aug 1929) wrote Carroll “emerges with flying colors,” and The Educational Screen stated that her acting was the best feature of the film. Her singing and dancing skills come across as mediocre in the film, but her straight scenes are genuinely affecting. It is easy to see why audiences of the day loved her, and that Carroll reportedly received the most fan mail of any Paramount starlet. In 1929, Carroll also appeared in Sweetie and Close Harmony.
The real star of the show is Hal Skelly, reprising the role he played on Broadway. It was considered his best role, and he shines as the tragic clown who cannot control his alcoholism. Really only at the beginning of a promising film career, which also included Behind the Make-Up (1930), and The Struggle (1931), Skelly was killed in an accident when his car was crossing a railroad track.
Although rarely mentioned by the critics, another standout performance was by Dorothy Revier, playing the wisecracking buxom Sylvia Marco. Revier was a classically trained dancer I imagine being in an older woman in Hollywood is the only reason her career didn’t last long beyond the silent era. Her comic timing, witty line delivery, and screen presence are excellent.
Although not the driving force of the story, The Dance of Life has several song and dance numbers. Unlike other hit songs from this period which tended to be upbeat jazz numbers, “True Blue Lou” was a plaintive ballad. Delivered with heart breaking sincerity by Skelly in full clown make-up, the number foreshadows Bonny’s devotion to Skid, and is a highlight of the film.
Lavish costumes as featured in Picture Play (Dec, 1929)
When Skid moves to Broadway we are treated to an eight minute song and dance, “The Ladies of the Dance" and "The Flippity Flop" from the Ziegfeld Follies. The grandiose sets and lavish costumes are spectacular, and it is a real shame the color prints have been lost. In other revue scenes, the awful costumes and average dancing highlight the mediocrity of the small-town burlesque shows.
Even without the production numbers, The Dance of Life still holds up as a strong drama. Director John Cromwell went on to become a prominent director with a career spanning over forty years. In that time he directed nearly fifty films including Close Harmony (1929), Dream Too Much (1935), The Prisoner of Zenda (1937), Anna and the King of Diam (1946) and The Goddess (1958). During the McCarthy era, Cromwell returned to New York, and won a Tony Award for his performance in Point of No Return (1952). He is the father of actor James Cromwell.
The Dance of Life is available through the Internet Archive and on YouTube.
The Dance of Life is available through the Internet Archive and on YouTube.
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Paramount's first stage to screen adaptation, and the film debut of the Marx Brothers.
The Gamby-Hall Girls, Motion Picture News (June 28, 1929)
Date of Release: Aug 3, 1929
Studio: Paramount
Director: Joseph Santley
Screenplay: Morrie Ryskind
Music: Irving Berlin, Frank Tours (music director)
Choreography: Chester Hale, Maria Gambarelli
Leading Actors: Groucho Marx (Hammer), Harpo Marx (Harpo), Chico Marx (Chico), Zeppo Marx (Jamison), Mary Eaton (Polly), Oscar Shaw (Bob), Kay Francis (Penelope), Margaret Dumont (Mrs. Potter), Cyril Ring (Yates), Basil Ruysdael (Hennessy), Sylvan Lee (Bell captain), Alan K. Foster Girls (Dancers), Gamby-Hall Girls (Dancing bellhops)
By 1929, thanks to Minnie Marx’s management of her sons, the Marx Brothers were already household names on the vaudeville circuit and on Broadway. The Cocoanuts was a successful stage musical with a book by George S. Kaufman and Morrie Ryskind, and music by Irving Berlin. The musical opened in December 1925 and ran for just under a year. It was revived on Broadway in 1927, and toured nationally for two years. It is still performed today.
The Cocoanuts was the Marx Brothers’ first film with Paramount, but actually the second film they had made. The first, Humor Risk, was filmed in 1921 and never released.
The film version of The Cocoanuts was Paramount’s first stage to screen adaptation, and filmed at Paramount’s Long Island studio in under three months. Critics overall loved the result, praising the comedy of the Marx Brothers and the successful transition of their material from stage to screen.
Studio: Paramount
Director: Joseph Santley
Screenplay: Morrie Ryskind
Music: Irving Berlin, Frank Tours (music director)
Choreography: Chester Hale, Maria Gambarelli
Leading Actors: Groucho Marx (Hammer), Harpo Marx (Harpo), Chico Marx (Chico), Zeppo Marx (Jamison), Mary Eaton (Polly), Oscar Shaw (Bob), Kay Francis (Penelope), Margaret Dumont (Mrs. Potter), Cyril Ring (Yates), Basil Ruysdael (Hennessy), Sylvan Lee (Bell captain), Alan K. Foster Girls (Dancers), Gamby-Hall Girls (Dancing bellhops)
By 1929, thanks to Minnie Marx’s management of her sons, the Marx Brothers were already household names on the vaudeville circuit and on Broadway. The Cocoanuts was a successful stage musical with a book by George S. Kaufman and Morrie Ryskind, and music by Irving Berlin. The musical opened in December 1925 and ran for just under a year. It was revived on Broadway in 1927, and toured nationally for two years. It is still performed today.
The Cocoanuts was the Marx Brothers’ first film with Paramount, but actually the second film they had made. The first, Humor Risk, was filmed in 1921 and never released.
The film version of The Cocoanuts was Paramount’s first stage to screen adaptation, and filmed at Paramount’s Long Island studio in under three months. Critics overall loved the result, praising the comedy of the Marx Brothers and the successful transition of their material from stage to screen.
Detailed window display, Motion Picture News (Dec 7, 1929)
Paramount ensured The Cocoanuts was well advertised. Promotions included newspaper ads, special window displays, and tie-ins with locals businesses such as “Cocoanut Sundaes” at soda bars. Theaters were also encouraged to develop their own advertisements. The Paramount Theatre in Omaha employed trucks with huge banners to drive through town. Another theatre placed a radio in front of the theatre “which sang all the songs… and also showed how the audience laughed and clapped over the Marx Brothers.” At the New Jersey State Fair, the Lincoln Theatre distributed an impressive 20,000 heralds, and also had two pajama-clad men carrying promotional umbrellas strolling through the crowds.
Although promotions describe the film as a “musical comedy,” and ads heralded The Cocoanuts as the first musical comedy straight from Broadway to film, the AFI catalogue lists The Cocoanuts as a “comedy,” and not as a musical. The Cocoanuts is one of the stronger musicals of 1929 and, like Hearts in Dixie, I’m glad I didn’t omit it from my list. As Hugh Castle wrote in the film journal Close Up (Vol. 4, No. 4, Oct 1929) “Cocoanuts is the best effort to date to make a screen musical comedy."
Although promotions describe the film as a “musical comedy,” and ads heralded The Cocoanuts as the first musical comedy straight from Broadway to film, the AFI catalogue lists The Cocoanuts as a “comedy,” and not as a musical. The Cocoanuts is one of the stronger musicals of 1929 and, like Hearts in Dixie, I’m glad I didn’t omit it from my list. As Hugh Castle wrote in the film journal Close Up (Vol. 4, No. 4, Oct 1929) “Cocoanuts is the best effort to date to make a screen musical comedy."
Motion Picture News (July 20, 1929)
The film holds up remarkably well compared to other films from this period, but getting through it is an effort.
Despite a score composed by Irving Berlin, the songs are mediocre. According to a Marx Brothers website, Groucho “teased Irving Berlin about not having been able to give them even one hit song for the show.” The main love song, “When My Dreams Come True” starts out as a pleasant duet, but is repeated ad nauseum. Mary Eaton’s eyebrow athletics during the first rendition are hysterical, and it is difficult to determine if the eyebrow movements are intentional or an unfortunate habit.
Apart from providing light entertainment, the songs do little to advance the plot or develop the characters. “The Monkey Doodle-Doo” is a fun light-hearted song and dance number. “I Want My Shirt” set to the melody of “Habanera” from Carmen is a fun moment late in the film that is better captured than the rest of the singing.
Each dance number, choreographed by Chester Hale and Maria Gambarelli and featuring the talented (all-white) Gamby-Hall Girls is highly polished. Chester Hale was an incredibly prolific choreographer who completed his training with the Ballet Russe with the likes of Anna Pavlova and Vaslav Nijinsky. He worked predominantly in New York creating large spectacles including the Ice Capades. Hale only had a short stint in Hollywood, as he found the studio system stifling.
Maria Gambarelli was a prima ballerina for the Metropolitan Opera who also appeared in three Hollywood films, Hooray for Love (1935), Here’s to Romance (1935), and Doctor Antonio (1939). Gambarelli created Gamby’s Girls, a “precision ballet” group that were the pre-cursor to the Rockettes.
The Gamby-Hall Girls seems to have been created specifically for The Cocoanuts, as there is no other reference to this group in other films or on Broadway. It is likely the dancers were a mix of girls from the Chester Hale Dancers and Gamby’s Girls.
Unfortunately, the filming falls short with strange camera angles that often cut off the dancers’ heads and feet. An exception to the poor filming is “Ballet Music,” which begins with an aerial shot of the dancers forming a human kaleidoscope — a year before Busby Berkeley’s film debut. The shot is well executed, and according to New York Times reviewer Mordaunt Hall, “This sequence proved so engaging that it elicited plaudits from many in the jammed theatre.”
The costumes are truly gorgeous. Each number features more elaborate costumes than the last, opening with bathers at the beach, moving on to cute bellboy outfits, and culminating in stunning 18th century Spanish dresses. The designer is unfortunately uncredited, but it is feasible Charles Le Maire, who worked on the original Broadway production, also did the film. He worked on nearly 300 films as wardrobe director and designer, was nominated thirteen times for an Oscar for Best Costume Design, and won for All About Eve (1950), The Robe (1953), and Love is a Many Splendored Thing (1955).
Despite a score composed by Irving Berlin, the songs are mediocre. According to a Marx Brothers website, Groucho “teased Irving Berlin about not having been able to give them even one hit song for the show.” The main love song, “When My Dreams Come True” starts out as a pleasant duet, but is repeated ad nauseum. Mary Eaton’s eyebrow athletics during the first rendition are hysterical, and it is difficult to determine if the eyebrow movements are intentional or an unfortunate habit.
Apart from providing light entertainment, the songs do little to advance the plot or develop the characters. “The Monkey Doodle-Doo” is a fun light-hearted song and dance number. “I Want My Shirt” set to the melody of “Habanera” from Carmen is a fun moment late in the film that is better captured than the rest of the singing.
Each dance number, choreographed by Chester Hale and Maria Gambarelli and featuring the talented (all-white) Gamby-Hall Girls is highly polished. Chester Hale was an incredibly prolific choreographer who completed his training with the Ballet Russe with the likes of Anna Pavlova and Vaslav Nijinsky. He worked predominantly in New York creating large spectacles including the Ice Capades. Hale only had a short stint in Hollywood, as he found the studio system stifling.
Maria Gambarelli was a prima ballerina for the Metropolitan Opera who also appeared in three Hollywood films, Hooray for Love (1935), Here’s to Romance (1935), and Doctor Antonio (1939). Gambarelli created Gamby’s Girls, a “precision ballet” group that were the pre-cursor to the Rockettes.
The Gamby-Hall Girls seems to have been created specifically for The Cocoanuts, as there is no other reference to this group in other films or on Broadway. It is likely the dancers were a mix of girls from the Chester Hale Dancers and Gamby’s Girls.
Unfortunately, the filming falls short with strange camera angles that often cut off the dancers’ heads and feet. An exception to the poor filming is “Ballet Music,” which begins with an aerial shot of the dancers forming a human kaleidoscope — a year before Busby Berkeley’s film debut. The shot is well executed, and according to New York Times reviewer Mordaunt Hall, “This sequence proved so engaging that it elicited plaudits from many in the jammed theatre.”
The costumes are truly gorgeous. Each number features more elaborate costumes than the last, opening with bathers at the beach, moving on to cute bellboy outfits, and culminating in stunning 18th century Spanish dresses. The designer is unfortunately uncredited, but it is feasible Charles Le Maire, who worked on the original Broadway production, also did the film. He worked on nearly 300 films as wardrobe director and designer, was nominated thirteen times for an Oscar for Best Costume Design, and won for All About Eve (1950), The Robe (1953), and Love is a Many Splendored Thing (1955).
This was the only online clip I could find of the dancing. Ignore the music, revel in the routine!
The best aspect of The Cocoanuts is, of course, the comedy. Groucho’s fast-paced, wise cracking, witticisms come across beautifully, and his performance is a highlight of the film.
Harpo is another highlight. His clowning is superb, and despite fears at the time that his comedy would not translate from stage to screen, plays well on camera. In addition to the clowning, we are treated to Harpo’s clarinet and harp playing. An instrumental reprise of “When My Dreams Come True” played on the harp, begins in earnest and rapidly descends into a manic and rapid variation of the melody. The scene doesn’t contribute to plot or character development and exists purely to show off Harpo’s virtuosity, but how lucky we are to have it on film!
We are also treated to Chico’s piano playing with “Gypsy Love Song.” Like Harpo’s number, Chico’s solo has no point in the plot, but he delivers a wonderful performance.
Despite the fast pacing of the dialogue, The Cocoanuts suffers from a poorly paced script. There is little to no character development, and we have no reason to invest emotionally in any of the characters. Interestingly, the script makes use of the device of romantic couple/comedic couple duos.
I had never seen a Marx Brothers comedy until now. It was fun to finally be able to see for myself why they have such a huge legacy and influence. With its gorgeous costumes, wonderful dance routines, and wise-cracking humor, The Cocoanuts sets a solid standard for the musical comedies to come.
Harpo is another highlight. His clowning is superb, and despite fears at the time that his comedy would not translate from stage to screen, plays well on camera. In addition to the clowning, we are treated to Harpo’s clarinet and harp playing. An instrumental reprise of “When My Dreams Come True” played on the harp, begins in earnest and rapidly descends into a manic and rapid variation of the melody. The scene doesn’t contribute to plot or character development and exists purely to show off Harpo’s virtuosity, but how lucky we are to have it on film!
We are also treated to Chico’s piano playing with “Gypsy Love Song.” Like Harpo’s number, Chico’s solo has no point in the plot, but he delivers a wonderful performance.
Despite the fast pacing of the dialogue, The Cocoanuts suffers from a poorly paced script. There is little to no character development, and we have no reason to invest emotionally in any of the characters. Interestingly, the script makes use of the device of romantic couple/comedic couple duos.
I had never seen a Marx Brothers comedy until now. It was fun to finally be able to see for myself why they have such a huge legacy and influence. With its gorgeous costumes, wonderful dance routines, and wise-cracking humor, The Cocoanuts sets a solid standard for the musical comedies to come.
- Published on
Date of Release: Nov 2, 1929
Studio: Paramount
Director: Frank Tuttle
Music: Richard A. Whiting and George Marion Jr.
Choreographer: Earl Lindsay
Screenplay: Lloyd Corrigan and George Marion Jr.
Leading Actors: Nancy Carroll , Helen Kane, Stanley Smith, Jack Oakie, William Austin, Stuart Erwin, Wallace MacDonald, Charles Sellon, Aileen Manning
Inspired by the Broadway college football musical smash Good News, Sweetie was one of three “college film musicals” released in 1929. Deftly directed by Frank Tuttle, Paramount’s second talkie offering is a fun film that, except for some dated racist references, holds up well over time.
Aspiring actress Barbara Pelham, (Nancy Carroll), inherits an entire all-boys college, Pelham. Her “sweeter than sweet”, Biff Bentley, (Stanley Smith), is Pelham’s football captain. Jilted by her sweetheart, Barbara arrives at the school seeking revenge, and hijinks ensue, complete with singing and dancing. The story also follows the trials and tribulations of the tomboyish Helen Fry, (Helen Kane) who attends the neighboring Miss Twill’s School for Girls, Barbara’s act partner Tap-Tap Thompson (Jack Oakie), and the unfortunate less-than-bright football jock Axel (Stuart Erwin).
Nancy Carroll was already a highly popular stage and screen actress with several hits under her belt by the time she filmed Sweetie. I enjoyed Carroll’s earlier performance in Close Harmony, and her performance here is just as charming. The screen time, and most of the songs, however, go to co-star Helen Kane. Kane was the model for Betty Boop, (she was not compensated for the use of her image), and Sweetie was released at the height of her popularity. It’s easy to see why Kane was so adored. She’s mischievous and fun, and, despite her squeaky voice, her character makes from a welcome change from the swooning silly ladies of earlier films.
Although going on to become well regarded and prolific actors, the lead men pale next to the exuberance of the women. Charles Sellon’s performance as the bumbling, well-meaning professor, Dr Oglethrope, is interesting, if bizarre. As evidenced in the first moments of the film, where he walks over and through a hedge, much of the comedy is overdone or overplayed.
At times the plot is utterly ridiculous, but throughout the script are some moments of excellent comedy and visual story-telling. Particularly noteworthy is the tongue-in-cheek commentary about the roles of women. The film opens on a beautifully shot group of young ladies learning to pour tea. The composition of the scene, although set in a garden, is intensely theatrical and visually appealing.
The world of the polite lady is shattered by the appearance of Helen Fry, a gun-popping, tree-climbing, boy-crazy lass who cannot maintain “good posture”, and has “no honor." Her wiles are amusingly showcased in the number “I Think You’ll Like It”, sung to Axel as she surreptitiously undresses him by pulling the thread on his shirt.
Upon Barbara’s arrival at Pelham, Dr. Oglethrope introduces the boys to their new headmistress - “A woman’s place is in the home, therefore let’s make it feel like home and all shall be well.” Barbara, “who will and does speak for herself,” responds with a hilarious speech about how history is positively littered with examples of women thriving in environments where they surrounded by men, such as Joan of Arc, and for that lady, “everything was quite nice”. The audience knows full well that everything was not quite nice at all for Joan of Arc, and we at once understand that Barbara is doomed as headmistress of Pelham, and impressed that she there at all.
The music, by George Marion Jr. and Richard A. Whiting, in Sweetie is terrific, and its frequent and cohesive use throughout the film make it stand out from the other films I have watched thus far. Richard A. Whiting is famous for songs such as “Hooray for Hollywood” and “On the Good Ship Lollipop,” and 1929 was his first year in Hollywood.
The music has an overarching peppy and fun tone that matches the film’s content, and the arrangements are just wonderful. Early in the film we are treated to an a cappella performance of Pelham’s spirit song “Bear Down Pelham”, sung by the football team in the locker room. The song occurs mostly off-camera, providing accompaniment for Biff’s vision of his team’s triumph. A cappella does away with the painful convention during this period to explain the presence of musicians, and fits in with the playful nature of the film.
Unfortunately, a band must appear at some point, and we are forced to sit through an unnecessarily long set-up to learn we are outside the band's rehearsal hall. Barbara is excited to see her sweetheart Biff, and what-d’ya-know, the band starts playing “her song!”. She sings “My Sweeter Than Sweet,” a saccharine ballad, describing her love for the wonderful Biff. The song is repeated, by different characters, and with varying arrangements (including a babershop quartet), to surprisingly good effect several times throughout the film.
“Alma Mammy” is an upbeat, problematic, song written to showcase the skills of Jack Oakie and parody the hugely famous Al Johnson. The first rendition is fine enough, complete with a throw-away “you ain’t heard nothin’ yet,” referencing Al Johnson's famous line from The Jazz Singer. When the song is reprised as a chorus number at the big game, all the men are wearing minstrel masks. I was confused and disturbed by the use of blackface when Al Johnson did it in The Jazz Singer, and it makes no more sense here. In the world of the film, African American people are completely absent, and there is no other reference to the minstrel tradition.
Sweetie’s choreography is attributed to “dance director” Earl Lindsay. We get a glimpse of a lovely tap number during rehearsals for Barbara and Tap-Tap’s show, complete with gorgeously designed costumes and proscenium arch. But the dancing is really featured in the lead up to the school dance with “The Prep Step”. The camera cuts between wide shots of the whole room (awkwardly, and inexplicably, framed by two ladders and later two pot plants), mid-shots of the couples dancing, and close ups of the tapping feet. The number is enhanced by the simple yet highly effective costumes, pretty light-colored uniform dresses and suits with black tap shoes. The costumes not only look great in black and white, but draw our attention to the dancers’ feet. The gorgeous dresses at the school dance are equally effective, and it is a shame the costume designer is not credited.
Apart from the glaring racism in “Alma Mammy,” Sweetie is a genuine light-hearted comedy with great music and dance. Unfortunately the restoration to DVD is not great, and the sound quality is often muddied by the whir of the film reel.
In researching this film, I was reminded that there is no such thing as a definitive movie musical list, or a clear definition of what actually constitutes a movie musical. Film historian Richard Barrios refers to three college musicals released in 1929 - Universal's College Love, MGM's So this is College, and Paramount's Sweetie. Depending on which source you look at, the first two films are often not classified as movie musicals.
I wrote to the AFI and asked them how they define the categories in their catalogue. Editor of the AFI Catalogue, Bob Birchard, states that categories are based on contemporary trade magazine classifications, and the cataloguer’s discretion.
So just what is a movie musical? I’ve been trying to answer this question for myself for a while, and it will have it’s own blog post very soon!
Studio: Paramount
Director: Frank Tuttle
Music: Richard A. Whiting and George Marion Jr.
Choreographer: Earl Lindsay
Screenplay: Lloyd Corrigan and George Marion Jr.
Leading Actors: Nancy Carroll , Helen Kane, Stanley Smith, Jack Oakie, William Austin, Stuart Erwin, Wallace MacDonald, Charles Sellon, Aileen Manning
Inspired by the Broadway college football musical smash Good News, Sweetie was one of three “college film musicals” released in 1929. Deftly directed by Frank Tuttle, Paramount’s second talkie offering is a fun film that, except for some dated racist references, holds up well over time.
Aspiring actress Barbara Pelham, (Nancy Carroll), inherits an entire all-boys college, Pelham. Her “sweeter than sweet”, Biff Bentley, (Stanley Smith), is Pelham’s football captain. Jilted by her sweetheart, Barbara arrives at the school seeking revenge, and hijinks ensue, complete with singing and dancing. The story also follows the trials and tribulations of the tomboyish Helen Fry, (Helen Kane) who attends the neighboring Miss Twill’s School for Girls, Barbara’s act partner Tap-Tap Thompson (Jack Oakie), and the unfortunate less-than-bright football jock Axel (Stuart Erwin).
Nancy Carroll was already a highly popular stage and screen actress with several hits under her belt by the time she filmed Sweetie. I enjoyed Carroll’s earlier performance in Close Harmony, and her performance here is just as charming. The screen time, and most of the songs, however, go to co-star Helen Kane. Kane was the model for Betty Boop, (she was not compensated for the use of her image), and Sweetie was released at the height of her popularity. It’s easy to see why Kane was so adored. She’s mischievous and fun, and, despite her squeaky voice, her character makes from a welcome change from the swooning silly ladies of earlier films.
Although going on to become well regarded and prolific actors, the lead men pale next to the exuberance of the women. Charles Sellon’s performance as the bumbling, well-meaning professor, Dr Oglethrope, is interesting, if bizarre. As evidenced in the first moments of the film, where he walks over and through a hedge, much of the comedy is overdone or overplayed.
At times the plot is utterly ridiculous, but throughout the script are some moments of excellent comedy and visual story-telling. Particularly noteworthy is the tongue-in-cheek commentary about the roles of women. The film opens on a beautifully shot group of young ladies learning to pour tea. The composition of the scene, although set in a garden, is intensely theatrical and visually appealing.
The world of the polite lady is shattered by the appearance of Helen Fry, a gun-popping, tree-climbing, boy-crazy lass who cannot maintain “good posture”, and has “no honor." Her wiles are amusingly showcased in the number “I Think You’ll Like It”, sung to Axel as she surreptitiously undresses him by pulling the thread on his shirt.
Upon Barbara’s arrival at Pelham, Dr. Oglethrope introduces the boys to their new headmistress - “A woman’s place is in the home, therefore let’s make it feel like home and all shall be well.” Barbara, “who will and does speak for herself,” responds with a hilarious speech about how history is positively littered with examples of women thriving in environments where they surrounded by men, such as Joan of Arc, and for that lady, “everything was quite nice”. The audience knows full well that everything was not quite nice at all for Joan of Arc, and we at once understand that Barbara is doomed as headmistress of Pelham, and impressed that she there at all.
The music, by George Marion Jr. and Richard A. Whiting, in Sweetie is terrific, and its frequent and cohesive use throughout the film make it stand out from the other films I have watched thus far. Richard A. Whiting is famous for songs such as “Hooray for Hollywood” and “On the Good Ship Lollipop,” and 1929 was his first year in Hollywood.
The music has an overarching peppy and fun tone that matches the film’s content, and the arrangements are just wonderful. Early in the film we are treated to an a cappella performance of Pelham’s spirit song “Bear Down Pelham”, sung by the football team in the locker room. The song occurs mostly off-camera, providing accompaniment for Biff’s vision of his team’s triumph. A cappella does away with the painful convention during this period to explain the presence of musicians, and fits in with the playful nature of the film.
Unfortunately, a band must appear at some point, and we are forced to sit through an unnecessarily long set-up to learn we are outside the band's rehearsal hall. Barbara is excited to see her sweetheart Biff, and what-d’ya-know, the band starts playing “her song!”. She sings “My Sweeter Than Sweet,” a saccharine ballad, describing her love for the wonderful Biff. The song is repeated, by different characters, and with varying arrangements (including a babershop quartet), to surprisingly good effect several times throughout the film.
“Alma Mammy” is an upbeat, problematic, song written to showcase the skills of Jack Oakie and parody the hugely famous Al Johnson. The first rendition is fine enough, complete with a throw-away “you ain’t heard nothin’ yet,” referencing Al Johnson's famous line from The Jazz Singer. When the song is reprised as a chorus number at the big game, all the men are wearing minstrel masks. I was confused and disturbed by the use of blackface when Al Johnson did it in The Jazz Singer, and it makes no more sense here. In the world of the film, African American people are completely absent, and there is no other reference to the minstrel tradition.
Sweetie’s choreography is attributed to “dance director” Earl Lindsay. We get a glimpse of a lovely tap number during rehearsals for Barbara and Tap-Tap’s show, complete with gorgeously designed costumes and proscenium arch. But the dancing is really featured in the lead up to the school dance with “The Prep Step”. The camera cuts between wide shots of the whole room (awkwardly, and inexplicably, framed by two ladders and later two pot plants), mid-shots of the couples dancing, and close ups of the tapping feet. The number is enhanced by the simple yet highly effective costumes, pretty light-colored uniform dresses and suits with black tap shoes. The costumes not only look great in black and white, but draw our attention to the dancers’ feet. The gorgeous dresses at the school dance are equally effective, and it is a shame the costume designer is not credited.
Apart from the glaring racism in “Alma Mammy,” Sweetie is a genuine light-hearted comedy with great music and dance. Unfortunately the restoration to DVD is not great, and the sound quality is often muddied by the whir of the film reel.
In researching this film, I was reminded that there is no such thing as a definitive movie musical list, or a clear definition of what actually constitutes a movie musical. Film historian Richard Barrios refers to three college musicals released in 1929 - Universal's College Love, MGM's So this is College, and Paramount's Sweetie. Depending on which source you look at, the first two films are often not classified as movie musicals.
I wrote to the AFI and asked them how they define the categories in their catalogue. Editor of the AFI Catalogue, Bob Birchard, states that categories are based on contemporary trade magazine classifications, and the cataloguer’s discretion.
So just what is a movie musical? I’ve been trying to answer this question for myself for a while, and it will have it’s own blog post very soon!
- Published on
The door above is the unglamorous entry to the treasure trove that is the UCLA Film and TV Archives. Hidden down a flight of stairs at the UCLA Library, and almost impossible to locate on a map, the archives are home to some of the oldest films in America. In June, I was fortunate to visit the archives and watch two films from my list. First up was the much anticipated Close Harmony. Unfortunately, the image is often fuzzy and moves in and out of the screen, and there is a constant buzzing in the soundtrack. This poor quality explains why Close Harmony has not been transferred to dvd for public consumption. For film buffs, and indeed movie musical lovers, this is a real shame, because beyond these time-induced flaws Close Harmony is a great film.
As mentioned in an earlier post, Close Harmony is about a talented musician, Al West, trying to get a break in vaudeville. There are the usual backstage shenanigans, love interests, and plenty of chorus-girls in tiny shorts. The music is mostly diagetic (a part of the scenic action), and in an exciting progression from earlier films, we hear off-screen dialogue and sound effects. The script writing is tight and sassy, with great one-liners and innuendos. There is a wonderful chemistry between Charles “Buddy” Rogers and Nancy Carroll, and their fame at the time is understandable. The supporting characters are similarly strong. Harry Green, playing the opportunistic producer, is a great comic relief with fast-paced dialogue, and plenty of quirky physical humour.
With floppy arms and loose legs, the choreography appears sloppy. But the fast-paced and tight jazz music more than makes up for the loose choreography. The music for the most part is diagetic, however each number is still in the context of a performance rather than the action itself. The song “I’m all a twitter” is a performance by Al West’s band at the Babylon Club, however could easily have worked in the scene before where Al professes his love for Marjorie. In these early years of the movie musical, characters did not just break out into song when emotions became too strong, though the songs they sing in performance do reflect their feelings.
Overall, a really wonderful film. Dramatic, fun, and humorous... Everything a good movie musical ought to be!
As mentioned in an earlier post, Close Harmony is about a talented musician, Al West, trying to get a break in vaudeville. There are the usual backstage shenanigans, love interests, and plenty of chorus-girls in tiny shorts. The music is mostly diagetic (a part of the scenic action), and in an exciting progression from earlier films, we hear off-screen dialogue and sound effects. The script writing is tight and sassy, with great one-liners and innuendos. There is a wonderful chemistry between Charles “Buddy” Rogers and Nancy Carroll, and their fame at the time is understandable. The supporting characters are similarly strong. Harry Green, playing the opportunistic producer, is a great comic relief with fast-paced dialogue, and plenty of quirky physical humour.
With floppy arms and loose legs, the choreography appears sloppy. But the fast-paced and tight jazz music more than makes up for the loose choreography. The music for the most part is diagetic, however each number is still in the context of a performance rather than the action itself. The song “I’m all a twitter” is a performance by Al West’s band at the Babylon Club, however could easily have worked in the scene before where Al professes his love for Marjorie. In these early years of the movie musical, characters did not just break out into song when emotions became too strong, though the songs they sing in performance do reflect their feelings.
Overall, a really wonderful film. Dramatic, fun, and humorous... Everything a good movie musical ought to be!
- Published on
Well, we've made it to 1929! And as mentioned in "The Next Four", although I can't actually watch the first four films 1929, I have done a little research into their history...
Despite being a commercial hit, Close Harmony survives only in 4 “quite shrunken” film reels at the UCLA Film and TV Archives. Close Harmony was directed by a duo, John Cromwell, a Broadway actor and later to become an established film director (and father of James Cromwell, better known as Farmer Hoggett inBabe, or George Sibley in that most fabulous of television series Six Feet Under), and Arthur Sutherland, an already established Hollywood director and actor. According to the book The First Hollywood Musicals, this kind of pairing of Hollywood and Broadway directors was common for Paramount movies at the time, with the belief that “the stage-trained half could concentrate on handling dialogue”.
Despite being a commercial hit, Close Harmony survives only in 4 “quite shrunken” film reels at the UCLA Film and TV Archives. Close Harmony was directed by a duo, John Cromwell, a Broadway actor and later to become an established film director (and father of James Cromwell, better known as Farmer Hoggett inBabe, or George Sibley in that most fabulous of television series Six Feet Under), and Arthur Sutherland, an already established Hollywood director and actor. According to the book The First Hollywood Musicals, this kind of pairing of Hollywood and Broadway directors was common for Paramount movies at the time, with the belief that “the stage-trained half could concentrate on handling dialogue”.
Close Harmony is another “vaudeville backstage hit”, because while talkies were taking off, it made sense to go to the other “talking” entertainment of the day, vaudeville and Broadway! The stars of the film were the beautiful Nancy Carroll and the dapper Charles “Buddy” Rogers. Both had recently starred in one of Paramount’s most successful silent films, and it was decided to showcase their musical talents in a talkie. Nancy Carroll was an established Broadway actress, and would go onto become a popular film actress. According to the IMDB, she received more fan mail than “any of her Hollywood peers of the same era”. I look forward to actually watching her perform in a later film for 1929, Sweetie. Charles “Buddy” Rogers was already an established film actor, having starred in the 1927 film Wings, the first film to win Best Picture at the Academy Awards (of which you can read a modern day review by Matt Foster, an Aussie actor in New York who inspired this project with his blog “Matt vs. The Academy", and his attempt to watch every movie ever nominated for Best Picture). Rogers was also a talented musican, and is reported to have been able to play instruments from all sections of the orchestra!
As talkies really start to take off, and as mentioned in my post about Lucky Boy, we begin to see some artistic merit being displayed in the cinematography. Again according to The First Hollywood Musicals, “Cromwell and Sutherland exhibit some dexterirty with the camera, twice using lenghty shots that move the action from the dressing rooms to the Babylon stage area”.
Despite being a commercial success, it is possible that the film was not well received critically. The prominent film magazine of the day, Photoplay, claimed that Close Harmony was “the last word in talking pictures”! Oh critics, what do they really know?!
Close Harmony is a Paramount production, and if the musings of the Vitaphone Blog are anything to go by, it perhaps will not be available for public consumption for a while -
As talkies really start to take off, and as mentioned in my post about Lucky Boy, we begin to see some artistic merit being displayed in the cinematography. Again according to The First Hollywood Musicals, “Cromwell and Sutherland exhibit some dexterirty with the camera, twice using lenghty shots that move the action from the dressing rooms to the Babylon stage area”.
Despite being a commercial success, it is possible that the film was not well received critically. The prominent film magazine of the day, Photoplay, claimed that Close Harmony was “the last word in talking pictures”! Oh critics, what do they really know?!
Close Harmony is a Paramount production, and if the musings of the Vitaphone Blog are anything to go by, it perhaps will not be available for public consumption for a while -
Close Harmony is one of a large clutch of Paramount early talkies that survive and enjoy good health, yet remain largely unseen save for sporadic archive screenings. So it goes. Oh, for a boxed DVD set of Paramount's contribution to the early sound era!
I couldn’t agree more!
UPDATE: Review can be read here.