- Published on
An inane film with an unlikeable protagonist but interesting characters off the screen.
ad from Exhibitors Herald World (June 29, 1929)
Date of Release: Feb 28, 1930
Studio: MGM
Director: William Nigh, Harry Beaumont
Cinematographer: Henry Sharo
Editor: Anne Bauchens
Screenplay: Crane Wilbur, Willard Mack
Music: Arthur Freed and Nacio Herb Brown, Joe Goodwin and Louis Alter, Dimitri Tiomkin and Raymond B. Egan, Richard A. Whiting
Choreographer: Sammy Lee, ballet by Albertina Rasch
Leading Actors: Charles Kaley (Roy), Ethelind Terry (Adria), Marion Shilling (Nancy), Cliff Edwards (Joe), Gwen Lee (Bessie), Benny Rubin (Phil), Drew Demorest (Edwards), John Byron (Mr Millaire), Rita Flynn (Redhead), Hazel Craven (Blondie)
Studio: MGM
Director: William Nigh, Harry Beaumont
Cinematographer: Henry Sharo
Editor: Anne Bauchens
Screenplay: Crane Wilbur, Willard Mack
Music: Arthur Freed and Nacio Herb Brown, Joe Goodwin and Louis Alter, Dimitri Tiomkin and Raymond B. Egan, Richard A. Whiting
Choreographer: Sammy Lee, ballet by Albertina Rasch
Leading Actors: Charles Kaley (Roy), Ethelind Terry (Adria), Marion Shilling (Nancy), Cliff Edwards (Joe), Gwen Lee (Bessie), Benny Rubin (Phil), Drew Demorest (Edwards), John Byron (Mr Millaire), Rita Flynn (Redhead), Hazel Craven (Blondie)
Lord Byron of Broadway tells the story of a conceited and womanizing song writer, Roy (Charles Kaley), who uses his flings with women to write hit songs.
Nell Martin in Exhibitors Herald World (Aug 8, 1925)
ad for "The Adventures of Mazie" Motion Picture News (Sept 5, 1925)
The plot came from a popular novel of the same name, published in 1928 by writer Nell Martin. Little information is currently available about Martin, despite having lived a seemingly interesting life. She wrote 8 novels, and over 200 short stories, one of which, The Adventures of Mazie, was adapted into a series of silent shorts by F.B.O. starring Alberta Vaughn (not to be confused with the Maisie films starring Ann Sothern). According to a brief biography in A Dashiell Hammett Companion, Martin worked in a variety of jobs from “migrant worker, laundry worker, clerk, and taxi driver,” to “proof reader, journalist, singer, and actress.” Film historian Edwin M. Bradley notes Martin was a “vaudevillian and newspaper reporter.” She was married twice, and was a known lover of famed writer Dashiell Hammett (who wrote The Maltese Falcon, The Thin Man, and The Glass Key, the last of which he dedicated to Martin). Dates of her death are conflicting across sources, and it appears that Nell Martin died in obscurity.
At the end of 1928, MGM announced a film version of Lord Byron of Broadway, slated to star Bessie Love and Williams Haines, with William Nigh directing. It was later announced that Charles King was starring.
As noted in Edwin M. Bradley’s Unsung Hollywood Musicals of the Golden Era, Lord Byron of Broadway was beset with casting and production problems. This didn’t stop MGM promoting the film, with an ad in Exhibitors Herald World in June 1929 extolling it was “A heart-stirring story of Tin Pan alley… It’s got everything that the human Talking screen can give!”
Production finally began around the fall of 1929, with vaudeville performers Charles Kaley, "the boy with the golden voice," a vaudevillian and master of ceremonies and Ethelind Terry, star of Rio Rita on Broadway, in the lead roles.
According to Bradley, director William Nigh was fired shortly after producer Harry Rapf saw the first rough cut, and demanded a remake. Harry Beaumont (The Broadway Melody) was bought on, who attempted to make Roy’s character more palatable.
The music was provided by MGM studio composers Arthur Freed and Nacio Herb Brown, Joe Goodwin and Louis Alter, Dimitri Tiomkin, and Raymond B. Egan, and Richard A. Whiting. Sheet music for songs “Should I?”, “The Woman in the Shoe,” “A Bundle of Old Love Letters,” and “Only Love is Real,” was released in late 1929, and proved to be popular. Victor Arden, Phil Ohman and Orchestra recorded “Should I” and “A Bundle of Old Love Letters.” “Should I” was briefly a top 10 song, and according to Variety was also the subject of four separate copyright suits.
Lord Byron of Broadway was finally released in February, 1930. Was it worth the drama? The Tin Pan Alley inspired musical was panned by the critics.
The Motion Picture Committee of The Women’s University stated it was “a weak edition of The Broadway Melody”, and The New Movie Magazine described it as “almost utterly lacking personality.” Norbert Lusk, writing for Picture Play, stated the film was “A stew without salt, because it is… careless and undistinguished…”
Several critics felt the story had potential, but, as Lusk noted, “the idea never quite comes through the morass of hackneyed situations, trite dialogue and other conventions of a backstage story.”
At the end of 1928, MGM announced a film version of Lord Byron of Broadway, slated to star Bessie Love and Williams Haines, with William Nigh directing. It was later announced that Charles King was starring.
As noted in Edwin M. Bradley’s Unsung Hollywood Musicals of the Golden Era, Lord Byron of Broadway was beset with casting and production problems. This didn’t stop MGM promoting the film, with an ad in Exhibitors Herald World in June 1929 extolling it was “A heart-stirring story of Tin Pan alley… It’s got everything that the human Talking screen can give!”
Production finally began around the fall of 1929, with vaudeville performers Charles Kaley, "the boy with the golden voice," a vaudevillian and master of ceremonies and Ethelind Terry, star of Rio Rita on Broadway, in the lead roles.
According to Bradley, director William Nigh was fired shortly after producer Harry Rapf saw the first rough cut, and demanded a remake. Harry Beaumont (The Broadway Melody) was bought on, who attempted to make Roy’s character more palatable.
The music was provided by MGM studio composers Arthur Freed and Nacio Herb Brown, Joe Goodwin and Louis Alter, Dimitri Tiomkin, and Raymond B. Egan, and Richard A. Whiting. Sheet music for songs “Should I?”, “The Woman in the Shoe,” “A Bundle of Old Love Letters,” and “Only Love is Real,” was released in late 1929, and proved to be popular. Victor Arden, Phil Ohman and Orchestra recorded “Should I” and “A Bundle of Old Love Letters.” “Should I” was briefly a top 10 song, and according to Variety was also the subject of four separate copyright suits.
Lord Byron of Broadway was finally released in February, 1930. Was it worth the drama? The Tin Pan Alley inspired musical was panned by the critics.
The Motion Picture Committee of The Women’s University stated it was “a weak edition of The Broadway Melody”, and The New Movie Magazine described it as “almost utterly lacking personality.” Norbert Lusk, writing for Picture Play, stated the film was “A stew without salt, because it is… careless and undistinguished…”
Several critics felt the story had potential, but, as Lusk noted, “the idea never quite comes through the morass of hackneyed situations, trite dialogue and other conventions of a backstage story.”
An ad for Charles Kaley in Variety (Sept 17, 1930)
Charles Kaley received entirely negative reviews for his first feature. Harrison’s Reports stated “he is like a stick” and Variety expounded his character was “a doltish conceited cad.” Ethelind Terry and Marion Shilling also received sour reviews, with critics complaining that Terry’s vaudevillian mannerisms were too over-the-top for screen work, and that Shilling was too inexperienced to be effective as the ingenue. Their supporting stars fared better, with Cliff Edwards (The Hollywood Revue of 1929, So This is College) and Benny Rubin, garnering warm praise for their performances.
Lord Byron of Broadway contained two Technicolor sequences, “Blue Daughter of Heaven” and “The Woman in the Shoe,” staged by Sammy Lee (The Hollywood Revue of 1929 and Chasing Rainbows), and Albertina Rasch (Devil-May-Care, The Hollywood Revue of 1929, Sally, Pointed Heels). The numbers didn’t do much to save the film. The New York Times’ Mordaunt Hall stated that while the numbers used “some clever staging and striking camera angles…, [they are] too dark and often indistinct.” Harrison’s Reports also noted “the color work is very poor,” and Variety’s Ruth Morris felt the dance numbers, though “very pretty,” were “incongruous.”
Reviews aside, the footage from “Woman in the Shoe” was later re-used in Nertsery Rhymes (1933) and Roast Beef and Movies (1934).
Charles Kaley performed at screenings of Lord Byron of Broadway in Chicago. This was not unusual, as many theatres still split their programming between vaudeville acts and movie screenings. A Variety review mentioned a particularly effective act presented at the Fox in Brooklyn in May 1930, which included an acrobatic troupe, The Son Linfield Co., who entered the stage via an oversized prop shoe, built to resemble the shoe house from the aforementioned “Woman in the Shoe.”
Unfortunately for Kaley, vaudeville was well on its way out. As reported in Exhibitors Herald World in February 1930, talking pictures were directly responsible for changing audience tastes and bringing about the death of vaudeville. In 1920, there had been more than 80 theatres “playing big-time, two a day policy vaudeville.” By 1930, that number had dropped to just 8. While vaudeville actors were being lured to Hollywood to film shorts for big pay, the performers quickly found themselves with less work and less pay on the stage. Compounding their problems was that, like Charles Kaley and Ethelind Terry, their stage skills did not translate well on screen.
Lord Byron of Broadway was also released as a silent film, as many theatres were still not equipped for sound. Although, for some audiences, Lord Byron of Broadway may have been their first talkie. The film received mention as the first talkie seen at the new American theatre in Harlowtown, Montana which had been fitted out with Western Electric, Vitaphone, and Movietone.
Silent or talkie, Lord Byron of Broadway flopped at the box office.
The film occasionally aired on television in the 1960s, and later on Turner Classic Movies.
Lord Byron of Broadway was included in a five-week film festival, “Musicals Before the Code,” at Film Forum 2 in New York City in 1996.
The Warner Bros Archive Collection released the film on DVD in 2010.
Modern day critics are kinder to Lord Byron of Broadway. Writing for Vitaphone Varieties, Jeff Cohen describes it as “a film I've long considered to be among the best photographed and recorded of all the early screen musicals,” and Edwin M. Bradley states “it’s a valuable reminder of good and bad of the earliest film musicals.”
I sat down to watch Lord Byron of Broadway with mixed expectations. Was it going to be like Syncopation, which was far more amusing than the critics had led me to believe? Or was it going to be another painful hour of eye-rolling why-did-I-choose-this-project boredom?
Sadly, it was the latter. The script and dialogue are inane, the music is not the best work of the composers, and not even the warm and amusing Cliff Edwards or Benny Rubin can save it all. Charles Kaley is wooden, and utterly unbelievable as someone whom all the women would fall madly in love with.
Lord Byron of Broadway contained two Technicolor sequences, “Blue Daughter of Heaven” and “The Woman in the Shoe,” staged by Sammy Lee (The Hollywood Revue of 1929 and Chasing Rainbows), and Albertina Rasch (Devil-May-Care, The Hollywood Revue of 1929, Sally, Pointed Heels). The numbers didn’t do much to save the film. The New York Times’ Mordaunt Hall stated that while the numbers used “some clever staging and striking camera angles…, [they are] too dark and often indistinct.” Harrison’s Reports also noted “the color work is very poor,” and Variety’s Ruth Morris felt the dance numbers, though “very pretty,” were “incongruous.”
Reviews aside, the footage from “Woman in the Shoe” was later re-used in Nertsery Rhymes (1933) and Roast Beef and Movies (1934).
Charles Kaley performed at screenings of Lord Byron of Broadway in Chicago. This was not unusual, as many theatres still split their programming between vaudeville acts and movie screenings. A Variety review mentioned a particularly effective act presented at the Fox in Brooklyn in May 1930, which included an acrobatic troupe, The Son Linfield Co., who entered the stage via an oversized prop shoe, built to resemble the shoe house from the aforementioned “Woman in the Shoe.”
Unfortunately for Kaley, vaudeville was well on its way out. As reported in Exhibitors Herald World in February 1930, talking pictures were directly responsible for changing audience tastes and bringing about the death of vaudeville. In 1920, there had been more than 80 theatres “playing big-time, two a day policy vaudeville.” By 1930, that number had dropped to just 8. While vaudeville actors were being lured to Hollywood to film shorts for big pay, the performers quickly found themselves with less work and less pay on the stage. Compounding their problems was that, like Charles Kaley and Ethelind Terry, their stage skills did not translate well on screen.
Lord Byron of Broadway was also released as a silent film, as many theatres were still not equipped for sound. Although, for some audiences, Lord Byron of Broadway may have been their first talkie. The film received mention as the first talkie seen at the new American theatre in Harlowtown, Montana which had been fitted out with Western Electric, Vitaphone, and Movietone.
Silent or talkie, Lord Byron of Broadway flopped at the box office.
The film occasionally aired on television in the 1960s, and later on Turner Classic Movies.
Lord Byron of Broadway was included in a five-week film festival, “Musicals Before the Code,” at Film Forum 2 in New York City in 1996.
The Warner Bros Archive Collection released the film on DVD in 2010.
Modern day critics are kinder to Lord Byron of Broadway. Writing for Vitaphone Varieties, Jeff Cohen describes it as “a film I've long considered to be among the best photographed and recorded of all the early screen musicals,” and Edwin M. Bradley states “it’s a valuable reminder of good and bad of the earliest film musicals.”
I sat down to watch Lord Byron of Broadway with mixed expectations. Was it going to be like Syncopation, which was far more amusing than the critics had led me to believe? Or was it going to be another painful hour of eye-rolling why-did-I-choose-this-project boredom?
Sadly, it was the latter. The script and dialogue are inane, the music is not the best work of the composers, and not even the warm and amusing Cliff Edwards or Benny Rubin can save it all. Charles Kaley is wooden, and utterly unbelievable as someone whom all the women would fall madly in love with.
Charles Kaley walks toward a delightfully hammy Ethelind Terry.
Contrary to what the critics believed, Ethelind Terry is a delight to watch and surprisingly funny. An unintended highlight of the film occurs when Terry looks straight at the camera mid-take with a joyful grin and a twinkle in her eye. Perhaps with better material, or a director willing to find a way to work with her stage background, Terry could have been a great screen comedienne.
Often with these dull early musicals, I have found solace in the Technicolor song-and-dance numbers. Unfortunately, I concur with the critics. Choreographed by Albertina Rasch (The Hollywood Revue of 1929, Pointed Heels, Devil-May-Care, Sally) and Sammy Lee (The Hollywood Revue of 1929, Chasing Rainbows), the numbers are just not filmed well. “Blue Daughter of Heaven” makes nice use of aerial shots, the number is essentially long-legged chorus girls dancing in circles on a revolve, made all the more problematic by the all-white cast wearing Chinese-themed costumes. “Woman in the Shoe” is amusing, and a beautifully designed play on the well-known children’s story, but the dark blackbird costumes do not look good on screen.
A saving grace of the film are the gorgeous dresses and outfits, designed by David Cox. Cox worked as the costume designer on over 40 films, and in wardrobe on another 34. According to film fashion historian Kimberly Truhler, although he is relatively unknown today, Cox’s groundbreaking designs, particularly for the 1928 silent Our Dancing Daughters starring Joan Crawford, have become the reference point for productions set in the 1920s. I’m rather enamored by the opening sequence of that film (featured on historian Heather Vaughan Lee’s blog). Just gorgeous!
A saving grace of the film are the gorgeous dresses and outfits, designed by David Cox. Cox worked as the costume designer on over 40 films, and in wardrobe on another 34. According to film fashion historian Kimberly Truhler, although he is relatively unknown today, Cox’s groundbreaking designs, particularly for the 1928 silent Our Dancing Daughters starring Joan Crawford, have become the reference point for productions set in the 1920s. I’m rather enamored by the opening sequence of that film (featured on historian Heather Vaughan Lee’s blog). Just gorgeous!
Charles Kaley returned to the diminishing vaudeville circuit, and only returned to Hollywood in small uncredited appearances in a small number of films. Ethelind Terry returned to Broadway and only appeared in another film in a small role. Marion Shilling had better success in Hollywood, appearing in over 40 films before she left the industry in 1936 to become a mother.
Lord Byron of Broadway was a lot of fun to research, from reading the scathing reviews through to discovering people like Nell Martin, Ethelind Terry, and David Cox, whom I might never have heard of otherwise. As for the film itself, it’s one that will stay on the shelf.
Lord Byron of Broadway was a lot of fun to research, from reading the scathing reviews through to discovering people like Nell Martin, Ethelind Terry, and David Cox, whom I might never have heard of otherwise. As for the film itself, it’s one that will stay on the shelf.
Sources
Books
Books
- Richard Barrios, A Song in the Dark: The Birth of the Musical Film, 2nd Ed, Oxford University Press (2010)
- Robert L. Gale, “A Dashiell Hammett Companion” Greenwood Press (2000)
- Edwin M. Bradley, Unsung Hollywood Musicals of the Golden Era: 50 Overlooked Films and Their Stars, 1929-1939, McFarland (2016)
- Jeff Cohen, “Dancing the Devil Away,” Vitaphone Varieties (Nov 7, 2007)
- Douglas Fox, “Lord Byron of Broadway,” Exhibitors Herald-World (March 15, 1930), p.37
- Mordaunt Hall, “The Screen: The Ungrateful Song Writer,” New York Times (March 8, 1930), p. 23
- P.S. Harrison, ““Lord Byron of Broadway” (100% T-F & DN)” Harrison’s Reports (March 15, 1930), p. 43
- Caryn James, “CRITIC'S NOTEBOOK;Singing, Dancing and Sinning” New York Times (April 26, 1996) Section C, p.1
- Heather Vaughan Lee, “Joan Crawford, Costumes and Publicity in ‘Our Dancing Daughters’ (1928)” Fashion Historia (May 14, 2012)
- Norbert Lusk, “The Screen in Review,” Picture Play Magazine (April 1930), p.100
- Samuel Richard Mook, “Bread-and-butter Babies Looking for Cake,” Picture Play Magazine (April 1930), p.20 - 23
- Ruth Morris, “Uncommon Chatter,” Variety (March 19, 1930), p.55
- Don Samson, “Music and Talent: Talkies Lure Stage Show Artists,” Exhibitors Herald World (Feb 15, 1930), p. 48
- Edwin Schallert, “Lord Byron of Broadway,” Motion Picture News (Jan 25, 1930), p. 43
- Kimberly Truhler, “The Style Essentials--Joan Crawford Struts Her Stuff in 1928's OUR DANCING DAUGHTERS,” Glamamor (Nov 27, 2012)
- Lawrence A. Urbach, Jerry Hoffman, “Hollywood,” Motion Picture News (Feb 16, 1929), p.497
- Uncredited, "Pictorial Section of Exhibitors Herald,” Exhibitors Herald, (Aug 8, 1925), p.45
- Uncredited, “Last Minute News” Motion Picture News, (Feb, 1929) p.6
- Uncredited, “Charles King starred,” The Film Daily, (April 14, 1929), p.10
- Uncredited, “The following 47 Pictures are available for Wired Houses,” Exhibitors Herald World, (June 29, 1929), MGM Product Announcement Feature
- Uncredited, “High and Low — Along Music Row” Motion Picture News, (Feb 8, 1930), p.62
- Uncredited, “Robbins Net $650,000 for Last Eight Months of 1929,” Motion Picture News, (March 1, 1930), p.18
- Uncredited, “Variety’s Chicago Office,” Variety, (March 5, 1930), p.69
- Uncredited, “Announce Opening House, Newly Equipped for Sound, Exhibitors Herald World, (March 29, 1930) p.22
- Uncredited, “The Big Ten: Best Selling Popular Songs of the Month,” Radio Revue, (March 1930), p. 46
- Uncredited, “The Film Estimates” The Educational Screen (April 1930), p.112
- Uncredited, April 1930 Reviews, The Motion Picture Committee of The Women’s University Club, Los Angeles Branch, American Association of University Women (April 1930)
- Uncredited, “Music of the Screen,” The New Movie Magazine, (April, 1930)
- Uncredited, “Film House Reviews: Fox, B’KLYN,” Variety, (May 28, 1930), p.43
- Uncredited, “Critical Comment on Current Films: Lord Byron of Broadway,” Screenland, (June 30, 1930)
- Uncredited, “Brief Guide,” (June, 1930), Talking Screen, p.6
- Uncredited, “18 Alleged Infringements Against M-G-M Music,” Variety, (Aug 6, 1930), p.65
- AFI Catalog, “Lord Byron of Broadway (1930)” Accessed via: https://catalog.afi.com/Film/10367-LORD-BYRONOFBROADWAY?sid=64a16e6c-b73e-43c8-b8f4-83b07e5dfaf2&sr=14.640628&cp=1&pos=0
- Published on
Warner Bros’ first contribution to the revue style musical.
Advert in Picture Play (Feb 1930)
Date of Release: Nov 20, 1929
Studio: Warner Bros
Director: John G. Adolfi
Screenplay: Frank Fay, J. Keirn Brennan
Composers: Al Bryan, Rube Bloom, Perry Bradford, J. Keirn Brennan, Nacio Herb Brown, Joe Burke, Michael H. Cleary, Al Dubin, Gus Edwards, Arthur Freed, Joe Goodwin, M. K. Jerome, Jimmy Johnson, Sam Lewis, Herb Magidson, Ray Perkins, Jean Schwartz, Bernie Seaman, Marvin Smolev, Ed Ward, Ned Washington, Joe Young
Musical Director: Louis Silvers
Choreographer: Larry Ceballos, Jack Haskell
Leading Actors: Frank Fay (Master of ceremonies), William Courtenay (The minister), H. B. Warner (The victim), Hobart Bosworth (The Executioner), Marian Nixon, Sally O'Neil, Myrna Loy, Alice Day, Patsy Ruth Miller (Florodora Sextette), Ben Turpin (Waiter), Heinie Conklin (Ice man), Lupino Lane (Street cleaner), Lee Moran (Plumber), Bert Roach (Father), Lloyd Hamilton (Hansom cabby), Noah Beery, Tully Marshall, Wheeler Oakman, Bull Montana, Kalla Pasha, Anders Randolf, Philo McCullough, Otto Matiesen, Jack Curtis (Pirates), Johnny Arthur (Hero), Julanne Johnston, Carmel Myers, Ruth Clifford, Sally Eilers, Viola Dana, Shirley Mason, Ethlyne Clair, Frances Lee, Julanne Johnston (Ladies), Douglas Fairbanks Jr. (Ambrose), Chester Conklin (Traffic cop), Grant Withers, William Collier Jr., Jack Mulhall, Chester Morris, William Bakewell (Boys), Lois Wilson, Gertrude Olmstead, Pauline Garon, Edna Murphy, Jaqueline Logan (Girls), Monte Blue (Condemned man), Albert Gran, Noah Beery, Tully Marshall, (Soldiers), Armida, John Barrymore, Richard Barthelmess, Sally Blan, Irene Bordini, Anthony Bushell, Marion Byron, Georges Carpentier, James Clemmons, Betty Compton, Dolores Costello, Helene Costello, Marceline Day, Louise Fazenda, Alexander Gray, Beatrice Lillie, Winnie Lightner, Hariette Lake, Lila Lee, Ted Lewis, Nick Lucas, Molly O'Day, Rin-Tin-Tin, E. J. Radcliffe, Sid Silvers, Sojin, Lola Vendrill, Ada Mae Vaughn, Alberta Vaughn, Ted Williams Adagio Dancers, Alice White, Loretta Young
Studio: Warner Bros
Director: John G. Adolfi
Screenplay: Frank Fay, J. Keirn Brennan
Composers: Al Bryan, Rube Bloom, Perry Bradford, J. Keirn Brennan, Nacio Herb Brown, Joe Burke, Michael H. Cleary, Al Dubin, Gus Edwards, Arthur Freed, Joe Goodwin, M. K. Jerome, Jimmy Johnson, Sam Lewis, Herb Magidson, Ray Perkins, Jean Schwartz, Bernie Seaman, Marvin Smolev, Ed Ward, Ned Washington, Joe Young
Musical Director: Louis Silvers
Choreographer: Larry Ceballos, Jack Haskell
Leading Actors: Frank Fay (Master of ceremonies), William Courtenay (The minister), H. B. Warner (The victim), Hobart Bosworth (The Executioner), Marian Nixon, Sally O'Neil, Myrna Loy, Alice Day, Patsy Ruth Miller (Florodora Sextette), Ben Turpin (Waiter), Heinie Conklin (Ice man), Lupino Lane (Street cleaner), Lee Moran (Plumber), Bert Roach (Father), Lloyd Hamilton (Hansom cabby), Noah Beery, Tully Marshall, Wheeler Oakman, Bull Montana, Kalla Pasha, Anders Randolf, Philo McCullough, Otto Matiesen, Jack Curtis (Pirates), Johnny Arthur (Hero), Julanne Johnston, Carmel Myers, Ruth Clifford, Sally Eilers, Viola Dana, Shirley Mason, Ethlyne Clair, Frances Lee, Julanne Johnston (Ladies), Douglas Fairbanks Jr. (Ambrose), Chester Conklin (Traffic cop), Grant Withers, William Collier Jr., Jack Mulhall, Chester Morris, William Bakewell (Boys), Lois Wilson, Gertrude Olmstead, Pauline Garon, Edna Murphy, Jaqueline Logan (Girls), Monte Blue (Condemned man), Albert Gran, Noah Beery, Tully Marshall, (Soldiers), Armida, John Barrymore, Richard Barthelmess, Sally Blan, Irene Bordini, Anthony Bushell, Marion Byron, Georges Carpentier, James Clemmons, Betty Compton, Dolores Costello, Helene Costello, Marceline Day, Louise Fazenda, Alexander Gray, Beatrice Lillie, Winnie Lightner, Hariette Lake, Lila Lee, Ted Lewis, Nick Lucas, Molly O'Day, Rin-Tin-Tin, E. J. Radcliffe, Sid Silvers, Sojin, Lola Vendrill, Ada Mae Vaughn, Alberta Vaughn, Ted Williams Adagio Dancers, Alice White, Loretta Young
Film Daily (Dec 16, 1929)
By the end of 1929, every studio had released a revue style musical film featuring lavish production numbers performed by the studio’s roll call of stars; MGM’s The Hollywood Revue of 1929, Fox’s Movietone Follies, Paramount’s Paramount on Parade and Warner Bros’ The Show of Shows.
The Show of Shows was the largest of the revues, and featured 77 stars and hundreds of dancing girls (some sources say up to 1000). The studio built excitement for the film with frequent “COMING SOON” notices advertising prominent stars and announcing the addition of new cast members.
The Show of Shows was the largest of the revues, and featured 77 stars and hundreds of dancing girls (some sources say up to 1000). The studio built excitement for the film with frequent “COMING SOON” notices advertising prominent stars and announcing the addition of new cast members.
PUBLICITY
Theatre managers went all out with publicity stunts. In San Diego, the Plaza Theatre printed “trick heralds” of a woman sitting in a bathtub. When the bathtub flap was pulled down, it revealed, instead of a naked woman, advertising copy for the film.
Colorado Springs installed a small bathtub and shower curtain in the foyer, complete with a life-size cutout of actress Winnie Lightner standing in the tub. The sign read “Singin’ in the shower is like singin’ in the rain, but you haven’t heard anything until you hear my comedy song hit ‘Singin' in the Bathtub’”
The Paramount Theatre in Atlanta, Georgia had a store window dressed to look like a bathroom, featuring a real bathtub with an actual girl singing in it. When the girl wasn’t on display, Victor records played hit songs from the show. According to Motion Picture News, the display drew crowds of over 50,000 people and the police had to be called in to re-direct traffic.
In October 1929, many theatres were still being wired for sound. For many people, Show of Shows was the first talkie they saw, and heard.
Theatre managers went all out with publicity stunts. In San Diego, the Plaza Theatre printed “trick heralds” of a woman sitting in a bathtub. When the bathtub flap was pulled down, it revealed, instead of a naked woman, advertising copy for the film.
Colorado Springs installed a small bathtub and shower curtain in the foyer, complete with a life-size cutout of actress Winnie Lightner standing in the tub. The sign read “Singin’ in the shower is like singin’ in the rain, but you haven’t heard anything until you hear my comedy song hit ‘Singin' in the Bathtub’”
The Paramount Theatre in Atlanta, Georgia had a store window dressed to look like a bathroom, featuring a real bathtub with an actual girl singing in it. When the girl wasn’t on display, Victor records played hit songs from the show. According to Motion Picture News, the display drew crowds of over 50,000 people and the police had to be called in to re-direct traffic.
In October 1929, many theatres were still being wired for sound. For many people, Show of Shows was the first talkie they saw, and heard.
Motion Picture News, Feb 1930
Motion Picture News, March 1930
OPENING AND RECEPTION
Opening night was a buzzy and exciting affair. Film Daily (Nov 19, 1929) reported the Winter Garden theatre in New York erected a sign “155 feet in length and 33 feet in height” to accommodate pictures of the 40 top-billed performers in 3ft stars on the marquis, and an unprecedented 18 lamps were used to light the exterior of the theatre.
The Show of Shows opened to rave reviews and did very well at the box office. The Film Daily (Nov 21, 1929) called it “a modern, sophisticated, tuneful, fast moving musical cocktail.” The Educational Screen (Jan 1930) described it as an “Elaborate spectacle, all in gorgeous color,” and Picture Play (Feb 1930) stated it was “The most gorgeous and varied and interesting of all the revues.”
Opening night was a buzzy and exciting affair. Film Daily (Nov 19, 1929) reported the Winter Garden theatre in New York erected a sign “155 feet in length and 33 feet in height” to accommodate pictures of the 40 top-billed performers in 3ft stars on the marquis, and an unprecedented 18 lamps were used to light the exterior of the theatre.
The Show of Shows opened to rave reviews and did very well at the box office. The Film Daily (Nov 21, 1929) called it “a modern, sophisticated, tuneful, fast moving musical cocktail.” The Educational Screen (Jan 1930) described it as an “Elaborate spectacle, all in gorgeous color,” and Picture Play (Feb 1930) stated it was “The most gorgeous and varied and interesting of all the revues.”
Motion Picture News, March 1930
The Show of Shows
Despite the absence of a plot, and the painful race and gender politics, The Show of Shows is one of the most entertaining musicals of 1929. The conceit is that we are watching a live stage show, presented in a revue format. Frank Fay acts as the Master of Ceremonies, performing short bits between comedy sketches, large production numbers, and solo songs.
Following the overture and credits, the film opens with a French revolution style execution. H.B Warner’s head is cut off at the guillotine, obscured from view by the attending soldiers, and cheering crowds. Hobart Bosworth announces, “On with the show of shows!”
The camera immediately cuts to a large stage, most of which is covered with a staircase that spans the stage’s width. It is soon filled with over 100 soldiers for “The Military March.” The soldiers march up and down the stairs, creating geometric formations with their bodies, and their black-and-white capes forming different patterns. The number is beautifully choreographed, and highlights choreographer Larry Caballos’ innovative skill and vision. Just when you think they couldn’t possibly fit any more people on the stage, a drum corps appears complete with twirling batons.
Frank Fay appears in front of the curtain in dressed in military garb. His patter is amusing, if not somewhat dated today, and the theme of Fay offering to perform and being interrupted by the "show" behind him recurs throughout the film. Fay was an immensely influential vaudeville star and comic. He was one of the first comedians to perform his act sans props, and as such is often cited as the first stand up comic. Although praised for his quick wit and unrelenting pace on stage, Fay was also famous for his intolerant and derisive racism and fascist affiliations.
“The Floradora Sextette” features film stars Marian Nixon, Sally O'Neil, Myrna Loy, Alice Day, and Patsy Ruth Miller. Despite their individual abilities, the number does not showcase the talents of the women. They are dressed identically, and sing in unison, wondering “what has become of the Floradora Boys?” They are soon replaced by the six Floradora Boys; Ben Turpin, Heinie Conklin, Lupino Lane, Lee Moran, Bert Roach and Lloyd Hamilton. In contrast to the women, the men are dressed in unique costumes. Each actor has a solo verse, designed to highlight his comic abilities.
Notorious for playing villains and sidekicks, Noah Beery, Tully Marshall, Wheeler Oakman, Bull Montana, Kalla Pasha, Anders Randolf, Philo McCullough, Otto Matiesen, and Jack Curtis appear as pirates for “Motion Picture Pirates.”A cheesy Gilbert and Sullivan type number, the men sing and swagger aboard a large ship. The "wenches" are summoned, and the women enter crying and screaming before singing a song about being leading ladies in distress. Johnny Arthur, “the hero” enters and promises to save the women and “protect the rear”. The women faun over the hero and exit. The hero is promptly tossed overboard, and a catch of "strange fish" is announced.
The "strange fish" are in fact a well-dressed band “from the land of jazz, rhythm and melody.” They are led by Ted Lewis, a well-known stage and screen composer and performer. The captain declares if he likes the band, they’ll live, if not, they’ll die. A somewhat flat number about jazz musicians being akin to pirates follows. The jazzy music is enough to save the band and Ted Lewis leads a spirited rendition of “Lady Luck.”
Despite the absence of a plot, and the painful race and gender politics, The Show of Shows is one of the most entertaining musicals of 1929. The conceit is that we are watching a live stage show, presented in a revue format. Frank Fay acts as the Master of Ceremonies, performing short bits between comedy sketches, large production numbers, and solo songs.
Following the overture and credits, the film opens with a French revolution style execution. H.B Warner’s head is cut off at the guillotine, obscured from view by the attending soldiers, and cheering crowds. Hobart Bosworth announces, “On with the show of shows!”
The camera immediately cuts to a large stage, most of which is covered with a staircase that spans the stage’s width. It is soon filled with over 100 soldiers for “The Military March.” The soldiers march up and down the stairs, creating geometric formations with their bodies, and their black-and-white capes forming different patterns. The number is beautifully choreographed, and highlights choreographer Larry Caballos’ innovative skill and vision. Just when you think they couldn’t possibly fit any more people on the stage, a drum corps appears complete with twirling batons.
Frank Fay appears in front of the curtain in dressed in military garb. His patter is amusing, if not somewhat dated today, and the theme of Fay offering to perform and being interrupted by the "show" behind him recurs throughout the film. Fay was an immensely influential vaudeville star and comic. He was one of the first comedians to perform his act sans props, and as such is often cited as the first stand up comic. Although praised for his quick wit and unrelenting pace on stage, Fay was also famous for his intolerant and derisive racism and fascist affiliations.
“The Floradora Sextette” features film stars Marian Nixon, Sally O'Neil, Myrna Loy, Alice Day, and Patsy Ruth Miller. Despite their individual abilities, the number does not showcase the talents of the women. They are dressed identically, and sing in unison, wondering “what has become of the Floradora Boys?” They are soon replaced by the six Floradora Boys; Ben Turpin, Heinie Conklin, Lupino Lane, Lee Moran, Bert Roach and Lloyd Hamilton. In contrast to the women, the men are dressed in unique costumes. Each actor has a solo verse, designed to highlight his comic abilities.
Notorious for playing villains and sidekicks, Noah Beery, Tully Marshall, Wheeler Oakman, Bull Montana, Kalla Pasha, Anders Randolf, Philo McCullough, Otto Matiesen, and Jack Curtis appear as pirates for “Motion Picture Pirates.”A cheesy Gilbert and Sullivan type number, the men sing and swagger aboard a large ship. The "wenches" are summoned, and the women enter crying and screaming before singing a song about being leading ladies in distress. Johnny Arthur, “the hero” enters and promises to save the women and “protect the rear”. The women faun over the hero and exit. The hero is promptly tossed overboard, and a catch of "strange fish" is announced.
The "strange fish" are in fact a well-dressed band “from the land of jazz, rhythm and melody.” They are led by Ted Lewis, a well-known stage and screen composer and performer. The captain declares if he likes the band, they’ll live, if not, they’ll die. A somewhat flat number about jazz musicians being akin to pirates follows. The jazzy music is enough to save the band and Ted Lewis leads a spirited rendition of “Lady Luck.”
Against a Parisian backdrop, Georges Carpentier sings “If I Could Love Again,” accompanied by Alice White, Patsy Miller, and the chorus girls sporting pretty parasols. The number leads into an extended dance routine, featuring some interesting choreography shot from above. The highlight of the number comes at the end of the song, when the backdrop disappears and the chorus girls climb the black wall at the rear of the stage. The visual effect is quite impressive and must look incredible on a big screen.
"Pingo-Pongo," a solo comedy number, is performed with panache by Winnie Lightner. Famous for her brassy voice and “risqué” performances, Winnie Lightner started out on the stage in vaudeville and on Broadway. Her first film Gold Diggers of Broadway (1929) was a huge hit, and she went on to make five more musicals in quick succession. The appearance of a woman in a featured number, playing a role apart from that of the damsel, is refreshing.
Frank Fay drags a German Shepherd puppy onto the stage and is ready to launch into a song about the puppy when he is interrupted by Nick Lucas. Lucas was a highly successful jazz recording artist, and one of his signature songs was "Tiptoe Through the Tulips." Lucas sings “Lady Luck,” accompanying himself on guitar. At the end of the number, the camera cuts back to Frank Fay who is now sporting a long white beard. The puppy has grown into celebrity canine Rin-Tin-Tin. Rin-Tin-Tin was rescued as a puppy from France during the First World War and went on to appear in nearly 30 films.
In front of the curtain, Louise Fazenda, Beatrice Lillie, Frank Fay and Lloyd Hamilton recite poems one by one that eventually, when read together, create an amusing speech. Louise Fazenda was a highly successful actress who worked in both silent and talking pictures. She worked for MGM, Warner Bros, and Paramount, and was known for her funny character acting and “country bumpkin” characters. Canadian born Beatrice Lillie was a highly acclaimed comedienne and actress who performed in America and England. Her show, An Evening with Beatrice Lillie, won a Special Tony Award in 1953. Lloyd Hamilton started out as a stage actor and went onto become one of the most successful and well-regarded comedic actors of the silent era. Hamilton suffered from alcoholism and it took a toll on his career which declined into the late 1920s and early 1930s
“Meet My Sister” features eight pairs of sisters (seven of which were real-life siblings); Dolores and Helene Costello, Sally O’Neil and Molly Day, Alice and Marceline Day, Sally Blaine and Loretta Young, Armida and Lola Vendrill, Harriet and Marian Bryon, Alberta and Ada Mae Vaughn, and Viola Dana and Shirley Mason. Accompanied by the chorus girls, each set of sisters is dressed in a different national “costume.” While each sister-set has their own verse, complete with a dance break in the “style” of the nationality they are representing, the whole number is designed to highlight that Hollywood gals are attractive to men from any background. The song is catchy, but the lyrics often don't fit well with the melody. The final pair, Viola Dana and Shirly Mason dressed in Dutch outfits - complete with twirling windmills in the background - end their verse with a kiss.
"Pingo-Pongo," a solo comedy number, is performed with panache by Winnie Lightner. Famous for her brassy voice and “risqué” performances, Winnie Lightner started out on the stage in vaudeville and on Broadway. Her first film Gold Diggers of Broadway (1929) was a huge hit, and she went on to make five more musicals in quick succession. The appearance of a woman in a featured number, playing a role apart from that of the damsel, is refreshing.
Frank Fay drags a German Shepherd puppy onto the stage and is ready to launch into a song about the puppy when he is interrupted by Nick Lucas. Lucas was a highly successful jazz recording artist, and one of his signature songs was "Tiptoe Through the Tulips." Lucas sings “Lady Luck,” accompanying himself on guitar. At the end of the number, the camera cuts back to Frank Fay who is now sporting a long white beard. The puppy has grown into celebrity canine Rin-Tin-Tin. Rin-Tin-Tin was rescued as a puppy from France during the First World War and went on to appear in nearly 30 films.
In front of the curtain, Louise Fazenda, Beatrice Lillie, Frank Fay and Lloyd Hamilton recite poems one by one that eventually, when read together, create an amusing speech. Louise Fazenda was a highly successful actress who worked in both silent and talking pictures. She worked for MGM, Warner Bros, and Paramount, and was known for her funny character acting and “country bumpkin” characters. Canadian born Beatrice Lillie was a highly acclaimed comedienne and actress who performed in America and England. Her show, An Evening with Beatrice Lillie, won a Special Tony Award in 1953. Lloyd Hamilton started out as a stage actor and went onto become one of the most successful and well-regarded comedic actors of the silent era. Hamilton suffered from alcoholism and it took a toll on his career which declined into the late 1920s and early 1930s
“Meet My Sister” features eight pairs of sisters (seven of which were real-life siblings); Dolores and Helene Costello, Sally O’Neil and Molly Day, Alice and Marceline Day, Sally Blaine and Loretta Young, Armida and Lola Vendrill, Harriet and Marian Bryon, Alberta and Ada Mae Vaughn, and Viola Dana and Shirley Mason. Accompanied by the chorus girls, each set of sisters is dressed in a different national “costume.” While each sister-set has their own verse, complete with a dance break in the “style” of the nationality they are representing, the whole number is designed to highlight that Hollywood gals are attractive to men from any background. The song is catchy, but the lyrics often don't fit well with the melody. The final pair, Viola Dana and Shirly Mason dressed in Dutch outfits - complete with twirling windmills in the background - end their verse with a kiss.
Winnie Lightner returns for “Singin’ in the Bathtub,” joined by a chorus of tap dancing men in drag. The dance break features tubby elderly white men dressed in old-fashioned bathers. The number ends with wrestler Bull Montana dressed in top hat and tails singing “You Were Meant for Me” to Lightner, and the boys dancing below. Italian-born Bull Montana started out as a professional wrestler and after some encouragement from Douglas Fairbanks, went onto become a Hollywood actor, appearing in over 90 films. The number is silly and fun, and its easy to see why it was selling point of the film. The song went on to become a best-seller.
Irene Bordoni stands in front of a piano, dressed in stunning black ball gown with strange white accents, and sings “Just an Hour of Love.” Her performance is lovely, though the song is forgettable. Bordoni started out a stage actress in Paris and went on to become a successful Broadway performer. She famously introduced several Cole Porter songs, including “Let’s Do It (Let’s Fall in Love).”
Irene Bordoni stands in front of a piano, dressed in stunning black ball gown with strange white accents, and sings “Just an Hour of Love.” Her performance is lovely, though the song is forgettable. Bordoni started out a stage actress in Paris and went on to become a successful Broadway performer. She famously introduced several Cole Porter songs, including “Let’s Do It (Let’s Fall in Love).”
Nick Lucas and Myrna Loy lead the visually spectacular, the horribly dated and racist, “Li-Po-Li." Loy’s dancing is decidedly average, though Lucas’ voice sounds excellent. The number ends again with an ever-increasing number of chorus girls climbing up and down frames at the rear of the stage, Lucas and Myrna watching on. In my Warner Bros dvd copy, this is the only number in Technicolor. Watch the clip above, and look out for the descending black genie set piece!
Frank Fay and Sid Silvers do an amusing bit about Al Jolson not being present in the film. Silvers does a decent Al Jolson impersonation, and it's a relief that he doesn't perform in blackface. Silvers started out in vaudeville and went on to become a prominent comedian and writer. The Show of Shows marked his screen debut.
“On a bicycle built for two” performed by William Blakewell, Chester Conklin, Douglas Fairbanks Jr., Pauline Garon, Jacqueline Logan, Chester Morris, Jack Mulhal, Edna Murphy, Gertrude Olmstead, Ann Sothern, Lois Wilson, and Grant Withers contains some fun choreography and moving set pieces.
Fay and Silvers return for “Why Should I,” which is capped by a cameo appearance by giant John Aasen.
Frank Fay and Sid Silvers do an amusing bit about Al Jolson not being present in the film. Silvers does a decent Al Jolson impersonation, and it's a relief that he doesn't perform in blackface. Silvers started out in vaudeville and went on to become a prominent comedian and writer. The Show of Shows marked his screen debut.
“On a bicycle built for two” performed by William Blakewell, Chester Conklin, Douglas Fairbanks Jr., Pauline Garon, Jacqueline Logan, Chester Morris, Jack Mulhal, Edna Murphy, Gertrude Olmstead, Ann Sothern, Lois Wilson, and Grant Withers contains some fun choreography and moving set pieces.
Fay and Silvers return for “Why Should I,” which is capped by a cameo appearance by giant John Aasen.
The infamous “Black and White Ballet” is truly a highlight, with beautiful costumes and clever choreography. The ending however is unsatisfying, with an unnamed chorus member calling a strike because the costumes are ankle length instead of knee length.
Harry Akst appears at the piano and Fay finally gets his big number, “Your Love is All That I Crave.”
Atop a pile of dead bodies, John Barrymore delivers Richard’s soliloquy from Shakespeare’s Henry VI. The soliloquy is, for the most part, shot with Barrymore’s chest and head filling the frame. It is a captivating performance.
Harry Akst appears at the piano and Fay finally gets his big number, “Your Love is All That I Crave.”
Atop a pile of dead bodies, John Barrymore delivers Richard’s soliloquy from Shakespeare’s Henry VI. The soliloquy is, for the most part, shot with Barrymore’s chest and head filling the frame. It is a captivating performance.
The lavish 10 minute finale, a medley of instrumental versions of songs from the film and book-ended by “Lady Luck”opens with two women hanging like rods in front of the curtain. The curtain opens to reveal two large chandeliers with women suspended around the lights as decorations. The number features hundreds of chorus girls and various dance soloists performing energetic routines and acrobatic tricks. Several African American dancers are featured, and it is a shame they are not credited as their tap dancing is a real highlight.
MUSIC
The film’s score was composed by Warner Bros’ immensely talented staff of contract writers. Most were Jewish men who started out in vaudeville or Tin Pan Alley and had headed west following the advent of talkies. The vast majority of the music team went onto prominent careers as film songwriters, and their songs are still remembered today.
Rare exceptions to the white and Jewish profile were two African American musicians, Perry Bradford and Jimmy Johnson. Perry Bradford was a multi-talented musician, songwriter, and producer. He was instrumental in creating the first recordings of African American bands and music, and in bringing blues and jazz to New York. Bradford’s compositions include “That Thing Called Love,” “Crazy Blues,” “You Can’t Keep a Good Man Down,” and “Keep a Knockin’.”
Jimmy Johnson, or James Price Johnson, was a highly influential African American pianist and composer who is credited for leading the transition from ragtime to jazz. He wrote popular songs, symphonies, and full length scores, and his work was used on stage and screen. His well-known songs include “The Charleston,” “If I Could Be With You (One Hour Tonight),” and “Old Fashioned Love.” Johnson taught Fats Waller, whom he also later collaborated with. He was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970.
The film’s score was composed by Warner Bros’ immensely talented staff of contract writers. Most were Jewish men who started out in vaudeville or Tin Pan Alley and had headed west following the advent of talkies. The vast majority of the music team went onto prominent careers as film songwriters, and their songs are still remembered today.
Rare exceptions to the white and Jewish profile were two African American musicians, Perry Bradford and Jimmy Johnson. Perry Bradford was a multi-talented musician, songwriter, and producer. He was instrumental in creating the first recordings of African American bands and music, and in bringing blues and jazz to New York. Bradford’s compositions include “That Thing Called Love,” “Crazy Blues,” “You Can’t Keep a Good Man Down,” and “Keep a Knockin’.”
Jimmy Johnson, or James Price Johnson, was a highly influential African American pianist and composer who is credited for leading the transition from ragtime to jazz. He wrote popular songs, symphonies, and full length scores, and his work was used on stage and screen. His well-known songs include “The Charleston,” “If I Could Be With You (One Hour Tonight),” and “Old Fashioned Love.” Johnson taught Fats Waller, whom he also later collaborated with. He was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970.
Film Daily (Nov 19, 1929)
AFTER THE SHOW
The Show of Shows highlights the dominance of white stars, and the secondary role of women. Of the 77 named stars to appear in the film, all are white. Although the film features "A Chinese Fantasy," the number is resplendent with dated stereotypes and cultural appropriation. The only Asian actor to appear in the film is actually Japanese, silent film star Sojin. He is dressed in a stereotyped costume of a Chinese farmer, and never speaks.
Apart from Winnie Lightner and Irene Bordoni, who are able to demonstrate individual skills and unique characters, women in The Show of Shows are interchangeable, white, and slim. Women exist only as silly objects for men -- highlighted by the finale, where women are literally ornamental, and part of the furniture.
The Show of Shows highlights the dominance of white stars, and the secondary role of women. Of the 77 named stars to appear in the film, all are white. Although the film features "A Chinese Fantasy," the number is resplendent with dated stereotypes and cultural appropriation. The only Asian actor to appear in the film is actually Japanese, silent film star Sojin. He is dressed in a stereotyped costume of a Chinese farmer, and never speaks.
Apart from Winnie Lightner and Irene Bordoni, who are able to demonstrate individual skills and unique characters, women in The Show of Shows are interchangeable, white, and slim. Women exist only as silly objects for men -- highlighted by the finale, where women are literally ornamental, and part of the furniture.
Most of the actors did not fare well following the advent of talkies. In the few years following The Show of Shows release, they faded into obscurity.
The Show of Shows is a fascinating contribution to the movie musical genre. An early part of Hollywood's rich tradition of borrowing from the stage, and an attempt to capture the magic of stage on film. The result is slightly clunky, visually spectacular, and, apart from the awful sexism and racism, a lot of fun.
Motion Picture News predicted in October 1929 that revue movies would now be an annual staple. By mid-1930 however, audiences had tired of revues and backstage musicals. Motion Picture printed letters to the editor complaining of the saturation of musicals. One reader wrote that he was concerned producers were seeking only to film stage shows instead of making movies. Ah, if only!!!
The Show of Shows is a fascinating contribution to the movie musical genre. An early part of Hollywood's rich tradition of borrowing from the stage, and an attempt to capture the magic of stage on film. The result is slightly clunky, visually spectacular, and, apart from the awful sexism and racism, a lot of fun.
Motion Picture News predicted in October 1929 that revue movies would now be an annual staple. By mid-1930 however, audiences had tired of revues and backstage musicals. Motion Picture printed letters to the editor complaining of the saturation of musicals. One reader wrote that he was concerned producers were seeking only to film stage shows instead of making movies. Ah, if only!!!
- Published on
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
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
The 1929 film version of Show Boat is the first of three movie musicals based on Edna Ferber’s best-selling novel. It is the least popular of the film versions, and separate to the ground-breaking Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II musical.
Date of Release: April 17, 1929
Studio: Universal
Director: Harry Pollard
Screenplay: Charles Kenyon, Edward J. Montagne, Harry Pollard, Tom Reed
Music: Gene Austin, Joseph Cherniavsky, Leo Friedman, Oscar Hammerstein II, Gene Jefferson, Jerome Kern, William H. Myddleton, Maceo Pinkard, Billy Rose, Nathaniel Shilkret, P. G. Wodehouse
Lead Players:
Prologue: Otis Harlan, Helen Morgan, Jules Bledsoe, Tess "Aunt Jemima" Gardella, The Jubilee Singers, Carl Laemmle, Florenz Ziegfeld
Main Feature: Laura La Plante, Joseph Schildkraut, Otis Harlan, Emily Fitzroy, Alma Rubens, Elsie Bartlett, Jack McDonald, Jane La Verne, Neely Edwards, Theodore Lorch, Stepin Fetchit, Gertrude Howard, Ralph Yearsley, George Chesebro, Harry Holden, Max Asher, Jim Coleman, Carl Herlinger, The Billbrew Chorus
Date of Release: April 17, 1929
Studio: Universal
Director: Harry Pollard
Screenplay: Charles Kenyon, Edward J. Montagne, Harry Pollard, Tom Reed
Music: Gene Austin, Joseph Cherniavsky, Leo Friedman, Oscar Hammerstein II, Gene Jefferson, Jerome Kern, William H. Myddleton, Maceo Pinkard, Billy Rose, Nathaniel Shilkret, P. G. Wodehouse
Lead Players:
Prologue: Otis Harlan, Helen Morgan, Jules Bledsoe, Tess "Aunt Jemima" Gardella, The Jubilee Singers, Carl Laemmle, Florenz Ziegfeld
Main Feature: Laura La Plante, Joseph Schildkraut, Otis Harlan, Emily Fitzroy, Alma Rubens, Elsie Bartlett, Jack McDonald, Jane La Verne, Neely Edwards, Theodore Lorch, Stepin Fetchit, Gertrude Howard, Ralph Yearsley, George Chesebro, Harry Holden, Max Asher, Jim Coleman, Carl Herlinger, The Billbrew Chorus
The novel Show Boat, written by Edna Ferber, was published in 1926. Following on the heels of Ferber’s Pulitzer winner novel So Big, Show Boat became a best-seller, and held the number one spot on the Best Seller’s List for twelve weeks.
Ferber was a highly prolific and influential writer who, in her lifetime, published twelve novels, twelve short story collections, nine plays, and two autobiographies. She was praised for her ability to capture the stories and lives of American people, and the American spirit. Ferber is a fascinating writer, and deserves far more space than I can give her here, (the Jewish Women’s Archive has an excellent account of her life and work).
The novel tells the inter-generational story of life aboard a show boat on the Mississippi River between 1850 and 1920. In response to the novel, the New York Times described Ferber as “one of those who are reviving first-rate story-telling.”
Within a year, the film rights had been granted to Universal, and the stage rights to Florenz Ziegfeld. Universal began production on the film as a silent picture. Whilst the movie was in production, Ziegfeld’s stage show opened on Broadway and became a smash hit.
Ferber was a highly prolific and influential writer who, in her lifetime, published twelve novels, twelve short story collections, nine plays, and two autobiographies. She was praised for her ability to capture the stories and lives of American people, and the American spirit. Ferber is a fascinating writer, and deserves far more space than I can give her here, (the Jewish Women’s Archive has an excellent account of her life and work).
The novel tells the inter-generational story of life aboard a show boat on the Mississippi River between 1850 and 1920. In response to the novel, the New York Times described Ferber as “one of those who are reviving first-rate story-telling.”
Within a year, the film rights had been granted to Universal, and the stage rights to Florenz Ziegfeld. Universal began production on the film as a silent picture. Whilst the movie was in production, Ziegfeld’s stage show opened on Broadway and became a smash hit.
Ziegfeld’s Broadway musical, Show Boat, opened in 1927 and revolutionized Broadway. With book and music by Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II, Show Boat was the first “integrated musical” — whereby plot, character, song and dance were developments of each other and came together to tell a whole story.
A break from the fluff and light humor of traditional Broadway shows, Show Boat was revolutionary for its heavy themes, realistically depicting the lives of everyday people, and for featuring actors of color in prominent roles. Show Boat is now considered the first American musical, where musical theater departs from operetta and vaudeville revues. Two movie versions of the Broadway show were made in 1936, and in 1951.
Universal’s film had virtually nothing to do with Ziegfeld’s popular production, however Universal exploited Ziegfeld’s name to sell tickets, and reportedly paid $200,000 for the rights to use the popular score in their film. Variety claimed that “the publicity of the Ziegfeld name” in conjunction with the film was worth more than the film itself. Variety predicted several times that the film was “not expected to affect the pace [box office] of Zieggy’s (sic) production…” To further capitalize on the Broadway show's notoriety, Universal filmed a short sound prologue featuring stars from the original Broadway cast singing songs from the show.
After a lengthy production period, much negotiation between Ziegfeld and Universal, and several re-shoots, the first movie version of Show Boat finally opened in April 1929. The staggered openings around the country were beset with problems. In Washington, Universal faced union troubles when a theatre refused to screen the film without Universal covering the cost of an orchestra in the pit. Union troubles also affected the signage outside the Globe Theater in New York when, just prior to opening, the sheet metal workers and sign painters held a strike over agreements for hanging electrical signs over Broadway theaters.
According to Edwin M. Bradley, unlike the other movie studios, Universal did not have its own chain of theaters, and relied on independent theaters to screen its films. As a result, Universal did all it could to promote Show Boat. In the lead up to the New York opening, Variety reported the presence of a truck equipped with a large phonograph and horn creating a “ballyhoo” down Broadway and blaring the film’s score for all to hear.
A break from the fluff and light humor of traditional Broadway shows, Show Boat was revolutionary for its heavy themes, realistically depicting the lives of everyday people, and for featuring actors of color in prominent roles. Show Boat is now considered the first American musical, where musical theater departs from operetta and vaudeville revues. Two movie versions of the Broadway show were made in 1936, and in 1951.
Universal’s film had virtually nothing to do with Ziegfeld’s popular production, however Universal exploited Ziegfeld’s name to sell tickets, and reportedly paid $200,000 for the rights to use the popular score in their film. Variety claimed that “the publicity of the Ziegfeld name” in conjunction with the film was worth more than the film itself. Variety predicted several times that the film was “not expected to affect the pace [box office] of Zieggy’s (sic) production…” To further capitalize on the Broadway show's notoriety, Universal filmed a short sound prologue featuring stars from the original Broadway cast singing songs from the show.
After a lengthy production period, much negotiation between Ziegfeld and Universal, and several re-shoots, the first movie version of Show Boat finally opened in April 1929. The staggered openings around the country were beset with problems. In Washington, Universal faced union troubles when a theatre refused to screen the film without Universal covering the cost of an orchestra in the pit. Union troubles also affected the signage outside the Globe Theater in New York when, just prior to opening, the sheet metal workers and sign painters held a strike over agreements for hanging electrical signs over Broadway theaters.
According to Edwin M. Bradley, unlike the other movie studios, Universal did not have its own chain of theaters, and relied on independent theaters to screen its films. As a result, Universal did all it could to promote Show Boat. In the lead up to the New York opening, Variety reported the presence of a truck equipped with a large phonograph and horn creating a “ballyhoo” down Broadway and blaring the film’s score for all to hear.
Universal's Show Boat received mixed reviews.Variety (April 24, 1929) said the film “by itself is an excellent picture when 25 minutes shall have been cut” and lamented the “dragginess… through prolonged scenes.” Photoplay (June 1929) wrote that “The weakness…lies in the obvious direction of Harry Pollard,” and overall described the adaptation as lackluster compared to the book.
Mordaunt Hall in his review for the New York Times (April 21, 1929) stated that Show Boat “benefits particularly by the melodies from Florenz Ziegfeld’s stage production,” and that “Fortunately for the picture, it ends with a series of the captivating melodies, which result in one leaving the theatre pardoning some of the boring periods.” He was also critical of the film’s length, and described the story as “frequently maudlin”.
Mordaunt Hall in his review for the New York Times (April 21, 1929) stated that Show Boat “benefits particularly by the melodies from Florenz Ziegfeld’s stage production,” and that “Fortunately for the picture, it ends with a series of the captivating melodies, which result in one leaving the theatre pardoning some of the boring periods.” He was also critical of the film’s length, and described the story as “frequently maudlin”.
Overall, the critics were unimpressed with the performances by the lead actors. Interestingly, lead actor Laura La Plante was dubbed by Eva Olivotti — who according to Photoplay “did it very well, indeed”. In 1929, Photoplay ran an article by Mark Larkin about Hollywood’s open secret of “voice doubling.” The article provided detailed information about which films had dubbed the singing (and instrument playing), and explained that although dubbing was a common practise, it was predicted that dubbing would soon be unnecessary as more film actors learnt to sing and play instruments.
Some of the contemporary reviews are hard to read today, thanks to the racist overtones in the way critics described actors of color — “Bledsoe’s voice registers beautifully and has an appealing quality that is bound to get over with any type of audience.” This racism is also evident in the filmmakers’ decision to remove the presence of interracial marriage, prominent in the novel, from the movie plot.
The prologue also received mixed reviews. Variety described the prologue as “not so nifty in sounding or photography.” Film Daily meanwhile praised the prologue, calling it “One of the best things in its class that has yet been presented in sound shorts.” Mordaunt Hall was similarly praiseworthy, stating that the prologue “starts things in an inspiring fashion.” Film historian Richard Barrios holds a less than favorable opinion of the prologue, stating that “What survives of the prologue is... problematic, historically significant but ultimately, inevitably, beside the point.”
With a drawcard title, Show Boat did relatively well at the box office, though not well enough to cover costs.
According to Bradley, the first movie version of Show Boat was considered lost until Miles Kreuger, historian and musical theater aficionado, tracked down copies for a tribute at MoMA to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the show's opening on Broadway. The restoration involved film reels found in the MGM Archive and, of all places, the Danish Film Archive.
An incomplete VHS copy, transferred from deteriorating reels, is held at the Film and Television Archive at UCLA. The film was aired on Turner Classic Movies in 2009, and, to date, I have not been able to source a legal DVD copy available to purchase.
The clip below contains footage reportedly from 1929. I think the footage is more likely to be from rehearsals in 1927, which according to the Film Study Center at MoMA, was filmed as part of an early sound on film experiment.
Some of the contemporary reviews are hard to read today, thanks to the racist overtones in the way critics described actors of color — “Bledsoe’s voice registers beautifully and has an appealing quality that is bound to get over with any type of audience.” This racism is also evident in the filmmakers’ decision to remove the presence of interracial marriage, prominent in the novel, from the movie plot.
The prologue also received mixed reviews. Variety described the prologue as “not so nifty in sounding or photography.” Film Daily meanwhile praised the prologue, calling it “One of the best things in its class that has yet been presented in sound shorts.” Mordaunt Hall was similarly praiseworthy, stating that the prologue “starts things in an inspiring fashion.” Film historian Richard Barrios holds a less than favorable opinion of the prologue, stating that “What survives of the prologue is... problematic, historically significant but ultimately, inevitably, beside the point.”
With a drawcard title, Show Boat did relatively well at the box office, though not well enough to cover costs.
According to Bradley, the first movie version of Show Boat was considered lost until Miles Kreuger, historian and musical theater aficionado, tracked down copies for a tribute at MoMA to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the show's opening on Broadway. The restoration involved film reels found in the MGM Archive and, of all places, the Danish Film Archive.
An incomplete VHS copy, transferred from deteriorating reels, is held at the Film and Television Archive at UCLA. The film was aired on Turner Classic Movies in 2009, and, to date, I have not been able to source a legal DVD copy available to purchase.
The clip below contains footage reportedly from 1929. I think the footage is more likely to be from rehearsals in 1927, which according to the Film Study Center at MoMA, was filmed as part of an early sound on film experiment.
I would love to see a copy of the 1929 film, especially the prologue, and compare the footage. It is a treat to have access to early Broadway in this way!
- Published on
Date of Release: Dec 15, 1928
Studio: Warner Bros
Director: Archie Mayo
Screenplay: Robert Lord, Mark Canfield, Joe Jackson, James A. Starr
Music: James Hanley, Harry Carroll, Grant Clarke, Mort Dixon, Leo Edwards, Fred Fisher, Oscar Levant, Ballard MacDonald, Blanche Merrill, Channing Pollock, Billy Rose
Leading Actors: Fanny Brice, Guinn Williams, Edna Murphy, Andrés de Segurola, Richard Tucker, Billy Seay, Arthur Hoyt, Ann Brody, Clarissa Selwynn
The Internet Is Really Great
As I near the end of films released in 1929, I’m catching up on a few films I’ve missed from the list. When I first started this project (way back when in 2010), I skipped over films that were lost, or weren’t publicly available. It’s remarkable how much information has been digitized and made available through the internet in the intervening five years.
The Internet Archive is a particularly fascinating place. With a little searching, old issues of film trade mags such as Variety, Film Daily, and PhotoPlay are all available freely online. Even more astonishingly, entire soundtracks of lost films such as My Man have been made available.
A Lost Film
My Man is famously considered a lost film. Wikipedia and IMDB claim, without references, that three of eleven reels still exist at the Associated Artists Productions (AAP) library, however no such library seems to exist. AAP and Warner Bros are now owned by Time Warner (not to be confused with Time Warner Cable), and I have been unable to find information on where or how to access their archives.
The UCLA Film and Television Archive and the Library of Congress, the two largest moving image archives in the USA, do not hold copies of the existing reels.
As My Man was released by Warner Bros, I attempted to track down the reels through them. The Warner Bros. Archives are held at the University of Southern California, but are primarily paper archives, and no film reels are kept in the collection.
Warner Bros now offers Warner Archive Instant, an online subscription-based streaming service for “classic TV and hard-to-find movies” that works similarly to Netflix or HBOGo. My best guess is that Time Warner (who also own Turner Classics and HBO) are holding the entire collection privately in order to be able to release films on their streaming services at a profit. While streaming makes content available to the wider public, not all films are available, and some are only available for a limited time.
Studio: Warner Bros
Director: Archie Mayo
Screenplay: Robert Lord, Mark Canfield, Joe Jackson, James A. Starr
Music: James Hanley, Harry Carroll, Grant Clarke, Mort Dixon, Leo Edwards, Fred Fisher, Oscar Levant, Ballard MacDonald, Blanche Merrill, Channing Pollock, Billy Rose
Leading Actors: Fanny Brice, Guinn Williams, Edna Murphy, Andrés de Segurola, Richard Tucker, Billy Seay, Arthur Hoyt, Ann Brody, Clarissa Selwynn
The Internet Is Really Great
As I near the end of films released in 1929, I’m catching up on a few films I’ve missed from the list. When I first started this project (way back when in 2010), I skipped over films that were lost, or weren’t publicly available. It’s remarkable how much information has been digitized and made available through the internet in the intervening five years.
The Internet Archive is a particularly fascinating place. With a little searching, old issues of film trade mags such as Variety, Film Daily, and PhotoPlay are all available freely online. Even more astonishingly, entire soundtracks of lost films such as My Man have been made available.
A Lost Film
My Man is famously considered a lost film. Wikipedia and IMDB claim, without references, that three of eleven reels still exist at the Associated Artists Productions (AAP) library, however no such library seems to exist. AAP and Warner Bros are now owned by Time Warner (not to be confused with Time Warner Cable), and I have been unable to find information on where or how to access their archives.
The UCLA Film and Television Archive and the Library of Congress, the two largest moving image archives in the USA, do not hold copies of the existing reels.
As My Man was released by Warner Bros, I attempted to track down the reels through them. The Warner Bros. Archives are held at the University of Southern California, but are primarily paper archives, and no film reels are kept in the collection.
Warner Bros now offers Warner Archive Instant, an online subscription-based streaming service for “classic TV and hard-to-find movies” that works similarly to Netflix or HBOGo. My best guess is that Time Warner (who also own Turner Classics and HBO) are holding the entire collection privately in order to be able to release films on their streaming services at a profit. While streaming makes content available to the wider public, not all films are available, and some are only available for a limited time.
Fragments and Sound Reels
Although the films reels are lost, stills and Vitaphone disks have survived. The English version of Photoplay released a photographic special feature to coincide with the film's release in England. It contains stills from the film, and copies of the book are available from the Fanny Brice Collection, Ebay and Abe Books.
One amazing soul has made the soundtrack available on the Internet Archive. It is not easy to ascertain where this person uploaded the soundtrack from (or with what permissions), but I'm so glad they have. With its awful dialogue and pleasant underscore, the soundtrack is quite amusing to listen to. For the most part, the stilted dialogue segues unnaturally into songs with lines like, “Hey Fanny! Sing us that song you did yesterday!” repeated before every song.
Although the films reels are lost, stills and Vitaphone disks have survived. The English version of Photoplay released a photographic special feature to coincide with the film's release in England. It contains stills from the film, and copies of the book are available from the Fanny Brice Collection, Ebay and Abe Books.
One amazing soul has made the soundtrack available on the Internet Archive. It is not easy to ascertain where this person uploaded the soundtrack from (or with what permissions), but I'm so glad they have. With its awful dialogue and pleasant underscore, the soundtrack is quite amusing to listen to. For the most part, the stilted dialogue segues unnaturally into songs with lines like, “Hey Fanny! Sing us that song you did yesterday!” repeated before every song.
Leading Lady - Fanny Brice
My Man was a star vehicle for Broadway star Fanny Brice. She was already well known for her performances in the Ziegfeld Follies, and her signature songs, including “My Man,” “I’d Rather Be Blue Over You,” and “Second-Hand Rosie” all appeared in the film. Although clearly enamored with Fanny Brice’s comedic and singing talent, both Variety and The New York Times were critical of her “Jewishness.” This didn’t stop Brice from being one of the biggest stage stars of her day, and her life was later portrayed in the Barbara Streisand star vehicles, Funny Girl and Funny Lady. A hauntingly beautiful recording of the title song, recorded in 1921 is available at the Library of Congress, and on YouTube. Unfortunately, the film version is not quite as touching as this rendition.
Cast and Crew
Apart from Guinn Williams, who went on to a healthy career in westerns, the rest of the cast faded from Hollywood as talkies gained momentum. Director Archie Mayo and screenwriter Robert Lord, continued to work extensively in Hollywood in genres other than musicals.
Most note-worthy from the cast and crew, apart from Fanny Brice, was screenwriter Mark Canfield, better known as Darryl F. Zanuck. Zanuck left Warner Bros in 1933, co-founded 20th Century Pictures and went on to become one of the greatest producers in Hollywood with over 200 movies to his name.
Music
The musical numbers received universal praise from the critics. Despite the song “I’m an Indian,” a painful reminder of America’s overtly racist past, the music throughout is light-hearted and fun. It’s easy to see why the songs were already audience favorites, and the film’s advertising plays on the their popularity. The score was composed by a large team of established musicians who all went on to become highly successful songwriters for stage and screen. Most of the My Man composers were eventually inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame.
Critical Reception
Although My Man claimed to be a “tense drama, full of tragedy and comedy,” Brice was clearly its only drawcard. Even then, some advertisements encouraged audiences to see the film even if their cinema was not yet equipped for sound. In January 1929, Variety reported that the censors had cut whole sections of dialogue from the film, but “titles bridged the gaps with a certain measure of success, few any the wiser.”
Produced during the awkward transition between silent films and talkies, My Man was not a strong example of the early movie musical. The film was criticized for being too long, and the predictable plot, centered around the trials and tribulations of an aspiring actress working in a costume house, was derided as inane.
The NY Times was critical of the clunky use of sound, and the film’s long length (though at 99 minutes, I wonder what those poor critics would have thought of later musicals which run for over three hours).
Variety called My Man technically “good and smart,” but also lamented its length, and the poor execution of technical elements including sound, scenic composition, and the fact that Brice was likely to only be a “one picture star.”
Finale
Despite the lukewarm critical praise, My Man turned a profit for Warner Bros, and ensured the studio would continue to invest in talking pictures.
My Man was a star vehicle for Broadway star Fanny Brice. She was already well known for her performances in the Ziegfeld Follies, and her signature songs, including “My Man,” “I’d Rather Be Blue Over You,” and “Second-Hand Rosie” all appeared in the film. Although clearly enamored with Fanny Brice’s comedic and singing talent, both Variety and The New York Times were critical of her “Jewishness.” This didn’t stop Brice from being one of the biggest stage stars of her day, and her life was later portrayed in the Barbara Streisand star vehicles, Funny Girl and Funny Lady. A hauntingly beautiful recording of the title song, recorded in 1921 is available at the Library of Congress, and on YouTube. Unfortunately, the film version is not quite as touching as this rendition.
Cast and Crew
Apart from Guinn Williams, who went on to a healthy career in westerns, the rest of the cast faded from Hollywood as talkies gained momentum. Director Archie Mayo and screenwriter Robert Lord, continued to work extensively in Hollywood in genres other than musicals.
Most note-worthy from the cast and crew, apart from Fanny Brice, was screenwriter Mark Canfield, better known as Darryl F. Zanuck. Zanuck left Warner Bros in 1933, co-founded 20th Century Pictures and went on to become one of the greatest producers in Hollywood with over 200 movies to his name.
Music
The musical numbers received universal praise from the critics. Despite the song “I’m an Indian,” a painful reminder of America’s overtly racist past, the music throughout is light-hearted and fun. It’s easy to see why the songs were already audience favorites, and the film’s advertising plays on the their popularity. The score was composed by a large team of established musicians who all went on to become highly successful songwriters for stage and screen. Most of the My Man composers were eventually inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame.
Critical Reception
Although My Man claimed to be a “tense drama, full of tragedy and comedy,” Brice was clearly its only drawcard. Even then, some advertisements encouraged audiences to see the film even if their cinema was not yet equipped for sound. In January 1929, Variety reported that the censors had cut whole sections of dialogue from the film, but “titles bridged the gaps with a certain measure of success, few any the wiser.”
Produced during the awkward transition between silent films and talkies, My Man was not a strong example of the early movie musical. The film was criticized for being too long, and the predictable plot, centered around the trials and tribulations of an aspiring actress working in a costume house, was derided as inane.
The NY Times was critical of the clunky use of sound, and the film’s long length (though at 99 minutes, I wonder what those poor critics would have thought of later musicals which run for over three hours).
Variety called My Man technically “good and smart,” but also lamented its length, and the poor execution of technical elements including sound, scenic composition, and the fact that Brice was likely to only be a “one picture star.”
Finale
Despite the lukewarm critical praise, My Man turned a profit for Warner Bros, and ensured the studio would continue to invest in talking pictures.
- Published on
Date of Release: 16 Oct 1929
Studio: Warner Bros.
Director: Lloyd Bacon
Music: Harry Akst, Earl Carroll, Sidney Clare, Grant Clarke, Peter DeRose, Charles Tobias
Writers: Robert Lord, Arthur Caesar, De Leon Anthony
Leading Actors: Charlotte Greenwood, Patsy Ruth Miller, Claude Gillingwater, Grant Withers, Harry Gribbon, Hallam Cooley, Marion Byron, Bert Roach, Helen Foster, Lloyd Ingraham, Jack Grey
I had high hopes for this film. Directed by Lloyd Bacon, director of the watchable The Singing Fool, and starring acclaimed Broadway actress Charlotte Greenwood, So Long Letty promised to be a highlight of early movie musical fare. It was awful. After such clunky films as this, it’s a wonder movie musicals ever took off.
Based on the 1916 Broadway musical of the same name, though with an entirely new score save for the title song, So Long Letty is a musical about wife swapping, a premise that was considered dated even at the time of its release. The New York Times review stated “The picture itself goes almost insane at times, for it possesses so many irrational moments thats it logical points seem strangely out of place.”
Of the film’s five songs, four occur in the last twenty minutes of the film. Each song sits oddly within the plot, and does not advance the story or characters in any way. The songs are used to highlight Greenwood’s gutsy alto voice, but instead of coming across as endearing or fun, her character is painful and annoying. The film comes to a merciful end with a speak-song that wraps up the plot in less than thirty seconds.
Women are portrayed in limited roles, obsessed with fame, cooking, or men. The two lead women, crass beauty shop parlour employee, Letty, played by Charlotte Greenwood, and the “nice little domestic girl” housewife, Grace, played by Patsy Ruth Miller, are both unlikeable. They are not helped by bizarre costuming choices, where Greenwood often looks like she’s dressed in a shiny sack, and Miller is too fashionably dressed for her diminutive housewife character.
The women are not helped by their male co-stars. Bert Roach is amusing as Letty’s husband, but his character is ungrateful and rude. The same can be said of Grant Withers as Harry Miller, who has a quick song at the end of the film featuring an appalling attempt at scat singing. Finally, the grouchy rich old white male of film, Uncle Claude, played by Claude Gillingwater, has no reason to be so awful and judgmental, except for the fact he is grouchy, rich, white, and old.
There is one redeeming, although all-too-short, scene in the film, set at Letty's beauty parlor. Charlotte Greenwood displays her comedic ability, and the visually appealing set makes for a great contrast from the living room and kitchen scenes that take up most of the film.
It’s not much surprise that So Long Letty was a commercial flop. The film’s humor is cheap, dated, and sexist, and with its ridiculous songs and complete absence of dancing, it barely passes as a musical. So Long Letty, and good riddance!
Studio: Warner Bros.
Director: Lloyd Bacon
Music: Harry Akst, Earl Carroll, Sidney Clare, Grant Clarke, Peter DeRose, Charles Tobias
Writers: Robert Lord, Arthur Caesar, De Leon Anthony
Leading Actors: Charlotte Greenwood, Patsy Ruth Miller, Claude Gillingwater, Grant Withers, Harry Gribbon, Hallam Cooley, Marion Byron, Bert Roach, Helen Foster, Lloyd Ingraham, Jack Grey
I had high hopes for this film. Directed by Lloyd Bacon, director of the watchable The Singing Fool, and starring acclaimed Broadway actress Charlotte Greenwood, So Long Letty promised to be a highlight of early movie musical fare. It was awful. After such clunky films as this, it’s a wonder movie musicals ever took off.
Based on the 1916 Broadway musical of the same name, though with an entirely new score save for the title song, So Long Letty is a musical about wife swapping, a premise that was considered dated even at the time of its release. The New York Times review stated “The picture itself goes almost insane at times, for it possesses so many irrational moments thats it logical points seem strangely out of place.”
Of the film’s five songs, four occur in the last twenty minutes of the film. Each song sits oddly within the plot, and does not advance the story or characters in any way. The songs are used to highlight Greenwood’s gutsy alto voice, but instead of coming across as endearing or fun, her character is painful and annoying. The film comes to a merciful end with a speak-song that wraps up the plot in less than thirty seconds.
Women are portrayed in limited roles, obsessed with fame, cooking, or men. The two lead women, crass beauty shop parlour employee, Letty, played by Charlotte Greenwood, and the “nice little domestic girl” housewife, Grace, played by Patsy Ruth Miller, are both unlikeable. They are not helped by bizarre costuming choices, where Greenwood often looks like she’s dressed in a shiny sack, and Miller is too fashionably dressed for her diminutive housewife character.
The women are not helped by their male co-stars. Bert Roach is amusing as Letty’s husband, but his character is ungrateful and rude. The same can be said of Grant Withers as Harry Miller, who has a quick song at the end of the film featuring an appalling attempt at scat singing. Finally, the grouchy rich old white male of film, Uncle Claude, played by Claude Gillingwater, has no reason to be so awful and judgmental, except for the fact he is grouchy, rich, white, and old.
There is one redeeming, although all-too-short, scene in the film, set at Letty's beauty parlor. Charlotte Greenwood displays her comedic ability, and the visually appealing set makes for a great contrast from the living room and kitchen scenes that take up most of the film.
It’s not much surprise that So Long Letty was a commercial flop. The film’s humor is cheap, dated, and sexist, and with its ridiculous songs and complete absence of dancing, it barely passes as a musical. So Long Letty, and good riddance!
- Published on
Instead of filming live musicals on a soundstage, producers should be filming live stage musicals, complete with a live audience, as a better way to give a wider audience access to live musical theatre.
NBC’s The Sound of Music Live! was an ambitious attempt to live-record a musical on a soundstage, and broadcast the feed, live, to the televisions of viewers across America. The production was watched by a massive 18.4 million viewers across the United States. Although the production received mixed reviews from critics and viewers alike, its success in introducing a wide audience to musical theatre has been celebrated.
Filming a live musical and broadcasting it is not a new phenomenon. Since the development of film, artists have attempted to capture live musicals for the screen, and The Sound of Music Live! is another installment in that history.
Gotta Sing!
Starting with the commercialization of film, producers turned to live theatre for content. With the development of the talkies in the 1920s, movie studios filmed short clips of vaudeville stars performing their routines to demonstrate the possibilities of the combination of sound and image. Broadway productions became fodder for Hollywood scripts, and, in the early movie musicals, whole scenes from currently running Broadway musicals were filmed and incorporated into the story. As movie musicals gained confidence and success, and blossomed into their own genre, live stage musicals were filmed less and less for the cinema.
Anything Goes on Television
A revival in the recording of live musical theatre occurred with the development, and availability, of television. The 1950s saw a “golden age” for live theatre on television, with theatre able to provide proven ready-made content, though most of these programs were filmed without a live audience.
Musicals were featured in short excerpts of currently playing productions, and programs such asBell Telephone Hour (NBC), The Ed Sullivan Show (CBS), and Tonight on Broadway (CBS) all featured live excerpts from Broadway. Between 1950 and 1955, the Colgate Comedy Hourfeatured popular shortened versions of contemporary musicals such as Annie Get Your Gun, Anything Goes, Kiss Me Kate, and Wonderful Town.
In 1955 NBC screened a full-length production of Peter Pan, starring Mary Martin, which thanks to its popular star, flying actors, and a variety of other effects, proved popular enough to continue to be aired into the 1960s. In 1957, CBS aired a live broadcast of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella starring Julie Andrews. The production was viewed by over 100 million people.
As with cinema, television production quickly grew more sophisticated, and developed its own content more suited to its medium. Practitioners at the time believed that theatre had to be filmed in one long continuous shot, with the stage frame always visible, in order to create the illusion of the theatre. They were also limited by heavy and bulky cameras. This way of filming, along with poor quality recordings, due to light and sound designed for the theatre and not for television, created content that became less popular, compared to material specifically created for television.
A Niche Market
In 1972 Harold Prince recorded the London production of Stephen Sondheim’s Company.
Prince began to break from traditional filming methods, but without a means of distributing the recorded production, filming live theatre did not pick up again until almost a decade later.
The availability of VHS and new filming technologies in the early 1980s gave the filming of live musicals a new chance. The use of the new technologies allowed for the use of cinematic devices such as close-ups, cuts between scenes, and multiple angles. This paved the way for filming live theatre as dynamic and exciting as watching a film or well-produced television show. Through VHS, producers were able to tap into a niche market, and more and more productions were filmed, and distributed for public consumption. Excellent examples from this period include Sondheim’sSunday in the Park with George (1986) and Into the Woods (1991), both produced by Brandman Productions.
Throughout the 1990s, and continuing to the present day, producers have intermittently recorded live musicals, such as Victor/Victoria, Oklahoma!, Candide in Concert, and Love Never Dies, for commercial release on VHS, DVD, and Blu-ray. The Great Performances series on PBS has also aired many of these productions.
The Internet is Really, Really, Great... (for musicals!)
The availability of the internet in the early 2000s provided another means for distribution to a niche market.YouTube has made it possible to watch excerpts, and indeed whole recordings, of live musical theatre performances. Bootleg recordings, where audience members covertly film a live production and post the footage online, of live musicals are not entirely uncommon. BlueGobo, a kind of Youtube for musical theatre fans, provides an archive of musical theatre clips, mostly television performances, from the 1940s through to the present day.
The quality of clips on YouTube, and even Blue Gobo, can be shaky at best, and illegal at worst. On the bright side, independent companies have used the internet to provide high quality, legal, recordings of live musical productions to viewers. Broadway Worldwide created Direct from Broadway, a pay-per-view program of Broadway productions, including Jekyll and Hyde, Smokey Joe’s Cafe, and Sondheim’s Putting it Together. In 2010, Digital Theatre, a UK-based online company providing pay-per-view live theatre content, recorded Timothy Sheader’s 2010 Regent’s Park open-air production of Stephen Sondheim’s Into the Woods. According to Suzie Rendle, Digital Theatre’s Operations Manager, the recording has been very successful, selling “hundreds a month...since the launch,” with downloads in over 63 countries, and increasing.
Martin Franklin, Director of the Digital Media program in the UK’s South Hill Park Centre for the Arts, moved into online video streaming following the success of online podcasts. In June 2012, South Hill Park Arts received a grant from the British Arts Council specifically for live streaming. The first production to be streamed was From Up Here, an original musical developed through Perfect Pitch, a UK-based organization that supports the development of new musicals. The production was streamed live for free, with the hope that the stream would generate interest for future productions, and increase attendance at the theatre itself.
Ohmigod You Guys!
As technology has improved, and recordings have become more sophisticated, the past five to ten years has seen the return of live musical theatre to television, and the cinema. In 2007 Legally Blonde: The Musical, was the first live musical production to air on television whilst still playing on Broadway. The producers aimed to use the broadcast to boost ticket sales, both on Broadway and for the national tour, and it worked. Two years after the screening, Variety reported that the telecast, along with the reality television program, Legally Blonde Search for the New Elle Woods, had helped to ensure strong ticket sales, and a continuous running tour since the show’s Broadway close in 2008. Since Legally Blonde, other Broadway musicals such as Fela!, RENT, and Into the Heights have been recorded and screened on television, and at the cinema. The availability of DVD recordings have been limited due to contractual agreements with performers and creatives.
In 2011, producer Ellen M. Krass filmed a special production of Company: Live from Lincoln Centre. The performance was released into cinemas around the world in 2012. Following the musical itself, the screening included an interview with Krass about the making of the production for cinematic release. Krass stated that she had experienced difficulty in obtaining funding for the project as investors had not yet heard of filming a live musical and releasing it as a commercial product!
Next to Normal Viewing
There are industry concerns that the availability of recorded live performance, whether on television, in the cinema, or on DVD, will replace attendance at the actual live performances. After all, the cost of a movie ticket, or watching content at home on television, or online, is vastly cheaper than the average cost of a theatre ticket.
Outside of musical theatre and into the worlds of opera and “straight” theatre, programs such asThe Met: Live and NT: Live have shown that filming live theatre for cinematic release is immensely profitable, attracts audiences who have not previously attended the theatre, and boosted ticket sales at the theatre themselves. The popularity of Legally Blonde the Musical, and The Sound of Music Live show that there is absolutely a market for filmed live musical theatre.
There is plenty of content ready for filming around the world. From the splendor of the Australian production of Love Never Dies, the fun and frivolity of the National Theatre’s London production ofOklahoma!, and the delight of star performances in the Lincoln Centre’s Company there are shows ready for filming and distribution.
So yes, let’s celebrate the success of The Sound of Music Live!. But rather than creating more soundstage musicals for broadcast, let’s get people into the theatre and film live stage musicals. We’ve been doing it for over a hundred years, and if the content from the last five years is anything to go by, it’s only going to keep getting better.
This article is based on my MA thesis, “Filming Performance: The Filming of Live Stage Musicals for Mass Distribution”, completed at the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama in 2011.
NBC’s The Sound of Music Live! was an ambitious attempt to live-record a musical on a soundstage, and broadcast the feed, live, to the televisions of viewers across America. The production was watched by a massive 18.4 million viewers across the United States. Although the production received mixed reviews from critics and viewers alike, its success in introducing a wide audience to musical theatre has been celebrated.
Filming a live musical and broadcasting it is not a new phenomenon. Since the development of film, artists have attempted to capture live musicals for the screen, and The Sound of Music Live! is another installment in that history.
Gotta Sing!
Starting with the commercialization of film, producers turned to live theatre for content. With the development of the talkies in the 1920s, movie studios filmed short clips of vaudeville stars performing their routines to demonstrate the possibilities of the combination of sound and image. Broadway productions became fodder for Hollywood scripts, and, in the early movie musicals, whole scenes from currently running Broadway musicals were filmed and incorporated into the story. As movie musicals gained confidence and success, and blossomed into their own genre, live stage musicals were filmed less and less for the cinema.
Anything Goes on Television
A revival in the recording of live musical theatre occurred with the development, and availability, of television. The 1950s saw a “golden age” for live theatre on television, with theatre able to provide proven ready-made content, though most of these programs were filmed without a live audience.
Musicals were featured in short excerpts of currently playing productions, and programs such asBell Telephone Hour (NBC), The Ed Sullivan Show (CBS), and Tonight on Broadway (CBS) all featured live excerpts from Broadway. Between 1950 and 1955, the Colgate Comedy Hourfeatured popular shortened versions of contemporary musicals such as Annie Get Your Gun, Anything Goes, Kiss Me Kate, and Wonderful Town.
In 1955 NBC screened a full-length production of Peter Pan, starring Mary Martin, which thanks to its popular star, flying actors, and a variety of other effects, proved popular enough to continue to be aired into the 1960s. In 1957, CBS aired a live broadcast of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella starring Julie Andrews. The production was viewed by over 100 million people.
As with cinema, television production quickly grew more sophisticated, and developed its own content more suited to its medium. Practitioners at the time believed that theatre had to be filmed in one long continuous shot, with the stage frame always visible, in order to create the illusion of the theatre. They were also limited by heavy and bulky cameras. This way of filming, along with poor quality recordings, due to light and sound designed for the theatre and not for television, created content that became less popular, compared to material specifically created for television.
A Niche Market
In 1972 Harold Prince recorded the London production of Stephen Sondheim’s Company.
Prince began to break from traditional filming methods, but without a means of distributing the recorded production, filming live theatre did not pick up again until almost a decade later.
The availability of VHS and new filming technologies in the early 1980s gave the filming of live musicals a new chance. The use of the new technologies allowed for the use of cinematic devices such as close-ups, cuts between scenes, and multiple angles. This paved the way for filming live theatre as dynamic and exciting as watching a film or well-produced television show. Through VHS, producers were able to tap into a niche market, and more and more productions were filmed, and distributed for public consumption. Excellent examples from this period include Sondheim’sSunday in the Park with George (1986) and Into the Woods (1991), both produced by Brandman Productions.
Throughout the 1990s, and continuing to the present day, producers have intermittently recorded live musicals, such as Victor/Victoria, Oklahoma!, Candide in Concert, and Love Never Dies, for commercial release on VHS, DVD, and Blu-ray. The Great Performances series on PBS has also aired many of these productions.
The Internet is Really, Really, Great... (for musicals!)
The availability of the internet in the early 2000s provided another means for distribution to a niche market.YouTube has made it possible to watch excerpts, and indeed whole recordings, of live musical theatre performances. Bootleg recordings, where audience members covertly film a live production and post the footage online, of live musicals are not entirely uncommon. BlueGobo, a kind of Youtube for musical theatre fans, provides an archive of musical theatre clips, mostly television performances, from the 1940s through to the present day.
The quality of clips on YouTube, and even Blue Gobo, can be shaky at best, and illegal at worst. On the bright side, independent companies have used the internet to provide high quality, legal, recordings of live musical productions to viewers. Broadway Worldwide created Direct from Broadway, a pay-per-view program of Broadway productions, including Jekyll and Hyde, Smokey Joe’s Cafe, and Sondheim’s Putting it Together. In 2010, Digital Theatre, a UK-based online company providing pay-per-view live theatre content, recorded Timothy Sheader’s 2010 Regent’s Park open-air production of Stephen Sondheim’s Into the Woods. According to Suzie Rendle, Digital Theatre’s Operations Manager, the recording has been very successful, selling “hundreds a month...since the launch,” with downloads in over 63 countries, and increasing.
Martin Franklin, Director of the Digital Media program in the UK’s South Hill Park Centre for the Arts, moved into online video streaming following the success of online podcasts. In June 2012, South Hill Park Arts received a grant from the British Arts Council specifically for live streaming. The first production to be streamed was From Up Here, an original musical developed through Perfect Pitch, a UK-based organization that supports the development of new musicals. The production was streamed live for free, with the hope that the stream would generate interest for future productions, and increase attendance at the theatre itself.
Ohmigod You Guys!
As technology has improved, and recordings have become more sophisticated, the past five to ten years has seen the return of live musical theatre to television, and the cinema. In 2007 Legally Blonde: The Musical, was the first live musical production to air on television whilst still playing on Broadway. The producers aimed to use the broadcast to boost ticket sales, both on Broadway and for the national tour, and it worked. Two years after the screening, Variety reported that the telecast, along with the reality television program, Legally Blonde Search for the New Elle Woods, had helped to ensure strong ticket sales, and a continuous running tour since the show’s Broadway close in 2008. Since Legally Blonde, other Broadway musicals such as Fela!, RENT, and Into the Heights have been recorded and screened on television, and at the cinema. The availability of DVD recordings have been limited due to contractual agreements with performers and creatives.
In 2011, producer Ellen M. Krass filmed a special production of Company: Live from Lincoln Centre. The performance was released into cinemas around the world in 2012. Following the musical itself, the screening included an interview with Krass about the making of the production for cinematic release. Krass stated that she had experienced difficulty in obtaining funding for the project as investors had not yet heard of filming a live musical and releasing it as a commercial product!
Next to Normal Viewing
There are industry concerns that the availability of recorded live performance, whether on television, in the cinema, or on DVD, will replace attendance at the actual live performances. After all, the cost of a movie ticket, or watching content at home on television, or online, is vastly cheaper than the average cost of a theatre ticket.
Outside of musical theatre and into the worlds of opera and “straight” theatre, programs such asThe Met: Live and NT: Live have shown that filming live theatre for cinematic release is immensely profitable, attracts audiences who have not previously attended the theatre, and boosted ticket sales at the theatre themselves. The popularity of Legally Blonde the Musical, and The Sound of Music Live show that there is absolutely a market for filmed live musical theatre.
There is plenty of content ready for filming around the world. From the splendor of the Australian production of Love Never Dies, the fun and frivolity of the National Theatre’s London production ofOklahoma!, and the delight of star performances in the Lincoln Centre’s Company there are shows ready for filming and distribution.
So yes, let’s celebrate the success of The Sound of Music Live!. But rather than creating more soundstage musicals for broadcast, let’s get people into the theatre and film live stage musicals. We’ve been doing it for over a hundred years, and if the content from the last five years is anything to go by, it’s only going to keep getting better.
This article is based on my MA thesis, “Filming Performance: The Filming of Live Stage Musicals for Mass Distribution”, completed at the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama in 2011.