An inane film with an unlikeable protagonist but interesting characters off the screen. ​

Date of Release: Feb 28, 1930
Studio: MGM
Director: William Nigh, Harry Beaumont
Cinematographer: Henry Sharo
Editor: Anne Bauchens
Screenplay: Crane Wilbur, Willard Mack
Music: Arthur Freed and Nacio Herb Brown, Joe Goodwin and Louis Alter, Dimitri Tiomkin and Raymond B. Egan, Richard A. Whiting
Choreographer: Sammy Lee, ballet by Albertina Rasch
Leading Actors: Charles Kaley (Roy), Ethelind Terry (Adria), Marion Shilling (Nancy), Cliff Edwards (Joe), Gwen Lee (Bessie), Benny Rubin (Phil), Drew Demorest (Edwards), John Byron (Mr Millaire), Rita Flynn (Redhead), Hazel Craven (Blondie) ​

The plot came from a popular novel of the same name, published in 1928 by writer Nell Martin. Little information is currently available about Martin, despite having lived a seemingly interesting life. She wrote 8 novels, and over 200 short stories, one of which, The Adventures of Mazie, was adapted into a series of silent shorts by F.B.O. starring Alberta Vaughn (not to be confused with the Maisie films starring Ann Sothern). According to a brief biography in A Dashiell Hammett Companion, Martin worked in a variety of jobs from “migrant worker, laundry worker, clerk, and taxi driver,” to “proof reader, journalist, singer, and actress.” Film historian Edwin M. Bradley notes Martin was a “vaudevillian and newspaper reporter.” She was married twice, and was a known lover of famed writer Dashiell Hammett (who wrote The Maltese Falcon, The Thin Man, and The Glass Key, the last of which he dedicated to Martin). Dates of her death are conflicting across sources, and it appears that Nell Martin died in obscurity.

At the end of 1928, MGM announced a film version of Lord Byron of Broadway, slated to star Bessie Love and Williams Haines, with William Nigh directing. It was later announced that Charles King was starring.

As noted in Edwin M. Bradley’s Unsung Hollywood Musicals of the Golden Era, Lord Byron of Broadway was beset with casting and production problems. This didn’t stop MGM promoting the film, with an ad in Exhibitors Herald World in June 1929 extolling it was “A heart-stirring story of Tin Pan alley… It’s got everything that the human Talking screen can give!”

Production finally began around the fall of 1929, with vaudeville performers Charles Kaley, "the boy with the golden voice," a vaudevillian and master of ceremonies and Ethelind Terry, star of Rio Rita on Broadway, in the lead roles.

According to Bradley, director William Nigh was fired shortly after producer Harry Rapf saw the first rough cut, and demanded a remake. Harry Beaumont (The Broadway Melody) was bought on, who attempted to make Roy’s character more palatable.

The music was provided by MGM studio composers Arthur Freed and Nacio Herb Brown, Joe Goodwin and Louis Alter, Dimitri Tiomkin, and Raymond B. Egan, and Richard A. Whiting. Sheet music for songs “Should I?”, “The Woman in the Shoe,” “A Bundle of Old Love Letters,” and “Only Love is Real,” was released in late 1929, and proved to be popular. Victor Arden, Phil Ohman and Orchestra recorded “Should I” and “A Bundle of Old Love Letters.” “Should I” was briefly a top 10 song, and according to Variety was also the subject of four separate copyright suits.

Lord Byron of Broadway was finally released in February, 1930. Was it worth the drama? The Tin Pan Alley inspired musical was panned by the critics.

The Motion Picture Committee of The Women’s University stated it was “a weak edition of The Broadway Melody”, and The New Movie Magazine described it as “almost utterly lacking personality.” Norbert Lusk, writing for Picture Play, stated the film was “A stew without salt, because it is… careless and undistinguished…”

Several critics felt the story had potential, but, as Lusk noted, “the idea never quite comes through the morass of hackneyed situations, trite dialogue and other conventions of a backstage story.”

Charles Kaley received entirely negative reviews for his first feature. Harrison’s Reports stated “he is like a stick” and Variety expounded his character was “a doltish conceited cad.” Ethelind Terry and Marion Shilling also received sour reviews, with critics complaining that Terry’s vaudevillian mannerisms were too over-the-top for screen work, and that Shilling was too inexperienced to be effective as the ingenue. Their supporting stars fared better, with Cliff Edwards (The Hollywood Revue of 1929, So This is College) and Benny Rubin, garnering warm praise for their performances.

Lord Byron of Broadway contained two Technicolor sequences, “Blue Daughter of Heaven” and “The Woman in the Shoe,” staged by Sammy Lee (The Hollywood Revue of 1929 and Chasing Rainbows), and Albertina Rasch (Devil-May-Care, The Hollywood Revue of 1929, Sally, Pointed Heels). The numbers didn’t do much to save the film. The New York Times’ Mordaunt Hall stated that while the numbers used “some clever staging and striking camera angles…, [they are] too dark and often indistinct.” Harrison’s Reports also noted “the color work is very poor,” and Variety’s Ruth Morris felt the dance numbers, though “very pretty,” were “incongruous.”

Reviews aside, the footage from “Woman in the Shoe” was later re-used in Nertsery Rhymes (1933) and Roast Beef and Movies (1934).

Charles Kaley performed at screenings of Lord Byron of Broadway in Chicago. This was not unusual, as many theatres still split their programming between vaudeville acts and movie screenings. A Variety review mentioned a particularly effective act presented at the Fox in Brooklyn in May 1930, which included an acrobatic troupe, The Son Linfield Co., who entered the stage via an oversized prop shoe, built to resemble the shoe house from the aforementioned “Woman in the Shoe.”   

Unfortunately for Kaley, vaudeville was well on its way out. As reported in Exhibitors Herald World in February 1930, talking pictures were directly responsible for changing audience tastes and bringing about the death of vaudeville. In 1920, there had been more than 80 theatres “playing big-time, two a day policy vaudeville.” By 1930, that number had dropped to just 8. While vaudeville actors were being lured to Hollywood to film shorts for big pay, the performers quickly found themselves with less work and less pay on the stage. Compounding their problems was that, like Charles Kaley and Ethelind Terry, their stage skills did not translate well on screen.

Lord Byron of Broadway was also released as a silent film, as many theatres were still not equipped for sound. Although, for some audiences, Lord Byron of Broadway may have been their first talkie. The film received mention as the first talkie seen at the new American theatre in Harlowtown, Montana which had been fitted out with Western Electric, Vitaphone, and Movietone.

Silent or talkie, Lord Byron of Broadway flopped at the box office.

The film occasionally aired on television in the 1960s, and later on Turner Classic Movies.

Lord Byron of Broadway was included in a five-week film festival, “Musicals Before the Code,” at Film Forum 2 in New York City in 1996.

The Warner Bros Archive Collection released the film on DVD in 2010.

Modern day critics are kinder to Lord Byron of Broadway. Writing for Vitaphone Varieties, Jeff Cohen describes it as “a film I've long considered to be among the best photographed and recorded of all the early screen musicals,” and Edwin M. Bradley states “it’s a valuable reminder of good and bad of the earliest film musicals.”

I sat down to watch Lord Byron of Broadway with mixed expectations. Was it going to be like Syncopation, which was far more amusing than the critics had led me to believe? Or was it going to be another painful hour of eye-rolling why-did-I-choose-this-project boredom?

Sadly, it was the latter. The script and dialogue are inane, the music is not the best work of the composers, and not even the warm and amusing Cliff Edwards or Benny Rubin can save it all. Charles Kaley is wooden, and utterly unbelievable as someone whom all the women would fall madly in love with.

Often with these dull early musicals, I have found solace in the Technicolor song-and-dance numbers. Unfortunately, I concur with the critics. Choreographed by Albertina Rasch (The Hollywood Revue of 1929, Pointed Heels, Devil-May-Care, Sally) and Sammy Lee (The Hollywood Revue of 1929, Chasing Rainbows), the numbers are just not filmed well. “Blue Daughter of Heaven” makes nice use of aerial shots, the number is essentially long-legged chorus girls dancing in circles on a revolve, made all the more problematic by the all-white cast wearing Chinese-themed costumes. “Woman in the Shoe” is amusing, and a beautifully designed play on the well-known children’s story, but the dark blackbird costumes do not look good on screen.

A saving grace of the film are the gorgeous dresses and outfits, designed by David Cox. Cox worked as the costume designer on over 40 films, and in wardrobe on another 34. According to film fashion historian Kimberly Truhler, although he is relatively unknown today, Cox’s groundbreaking designs, particularly for the 1928 silent Our Dancing Daughters starring Joan Crawford, have become the reference point for productions set in the 1920s. I’m rather enamored by the opening sequence of that film (featured on historian Heather Vaughan Lee’s blog). Just gorgeous!

Charles Kaley returned to the diminishing vaudeville circuit, and only returned to Hollywood in small uncredited appearances in a small number of films. Ethelind Terry returned to Broadway and only appeared in another film in a small role. Marion Shilling had better success in Hollywood, appearing in over 40 films before she left the industry in 1936 to become a mother.​

Lord Byron of Broadway was a lot of fun to research, from reading the scathing reviews through to discovering people like Nell Martin, Ethelind Terry, and David Cox, whom I might never have heard of otherwise. As for the film itself, it’s one that will stay on the shelf.

Sources
Books

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

Articles

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

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

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

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

Websites

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

Date of Release: Jan 31, 1930
Studio: MGM
Director: Jack Conway and Sam Wood
Screenplay: A.P. Younger (story), Sarah Y. Mason (scenario), Arthur “Bugs” Baer (dialogue)
Music: Milton Ager, Jack Yellen
Choreographer: Sammy Lee
Leading Actors:
Joe Schenck (Jack)
Gus Van (Jerry)
Bessie Love (Mary)
Mary Doran (Daisy)
J.C. Nugent (Stafford)
Benny Rubin (Sam)
Tom Dugan (Tim)
Eddie Gribbon (Brennan)
Francis X. Bushman Jr. (Haskins)
Nina Mae McKinney (Harlem Madness Singer)
Cliff Edwards (Singer in Harlem Madness)

Van and Schenck were well-known vaudeville performers from Brooklyn. The duo had been performing together for nearly two decades, and had appeared in several MGM “movietone” shorts.

Initially announced in late 1929 under the titles Playing the Field, The Pennant Winning Battery, and Play it Big, Van and Schenck’s first and only feature film They Learned About Women was released by MGM in January 1930. The final title was derived from a 1927 Van and Schenck short.

The film was written by Sarah Y. Mason, who also wrote for Broadway Melody, along with sports commentator Arthur “Bugs” Baer. Giant’s player Mike Donin also reportedly served as the baseball supervisor.

They Learned About Women tells the story of two Blue Sox baseball players, straight-laced Jack (Schenck) and party boy Jerry (Van) who perform a vaudeville act in the off-season. Jack is in love with Mary (Bessie Love), but is quickly wooed by “bad girl” Daisy (Mary Doran). Jack marries Daisy, who forces Jack to leave baseball and his vaudeville partner of fifteen years to start their own act. The Blue Sox are in the finals of the World Series, but things are looking grim without the old partnership of Jerry and Jack. Jack returns, no longer with Daisy, and brings about a win for the Blue Sox. Realizing his buddy still loves Mary, and that Mary still loves Jack, Jerry graciously steps away.

I had initially brushed off the notion of vaudeville singin’ baseball players as a contrived way to work music into a baseball themed movie, but after chatting with baseball historian and theatre director Ralph Carhart, I discovered this was actually quite common.

As baseball historian John Thorn notes in the foreward to Carhart’s book The Hall Ball, “Players. That standard baseball term… derives from the theater… Practitioners of the baseball arts were thus named because they were regarded as entertainers…” Schenck and Van were not themselves professional baseball players, but were reportedly avid fans. Schenck had also “once captained the vaudeville “All-stars” team.”


Schenck and Van were not themselves professional baseball players, but were reportedly avid fans. Schenck had also “once captained the vaudeville “All-stars” team.”

Perhaps testing the waters to see how Van and Schenck fared in a feature length film, MGM did not give They Learned About Women much in the way of publicity.

Some theatre owners attempted new ways to lure in patrons. The Fox Theatre in Detroit invited the local baseball team, the Detroit Tigers, to attend a showing, while Trenton theatre in Lynchburg, Virginia, collaborated with Power Laundries for a promotion using an anagraphic puzzle and movie pass giveaways. The Lyric Theatre in Tennessee attempted to use “the feminine penchant for reducing,” ie. losing weight, to entice female audiences by promoting Bessie Love’s “1930 Beauty Form Chart.” According to Exhibitors Herald-World, the chart detailed how Love retained her “vim, vigor, and vitality,” and encouraged daily physical activity in the form of physical culture.

The Film Daily noted “the baseball stuff is good” and summarized that the film was a “a peppy number that should please.” The Motion Picture Committee of the Los Angeles Branch of The Women’s University Club stated the film would “probably have a wide range of appeal since it combines the ever-popular baseball theme with new song hits.”

They Learned About Women featured 6 songs by Milton Ager and Jack Yellen (both of whom had previously worked on Honkey Tonk and Chasing Rainbows) — ‘There Will Never Be Another Mary’, ’Harlem Madness’, ‘Does My Baby Love?’, ‘He’s That Kind of a Pal’, ‘Aintcha Baby’, ’A Man of My Own’ — and 2 songs by Van and Schenck, ‘Dougherty is the Name’  and ‘I’m an Old Fashioned Guy’. 

Despite predictions of wide appeal, Exhibitors Herald-World published several reports noting that They Learned About Women failed to draw in audiences. Some also mentioned that the film’s strange title did not help.

Apart from a few industry reviews, They Learned About Women was not reviewed by any major publications.

As with just about every movie musical from this period, watching They Learned About Women today is both a frustrating and surprising experience. The ho hum story of the love diamond between Jerry, Jack, Mary, and Daisy is eye-roll inducing, and the only two speaking women in the film fall into the predictable dichotomy of sweet good girl/vixen bad girl.

People of color exist only in subservient roles, until we arrive at the theatre. The film features the fabulous ‘Harlem Madness’, a musical number performed by a troupe made up entirely of people of color. The troupe is led by Nina Mae McKinney, who was uncredited, who had starred in Hallelujah the year before. ‘Harlem Madness’ was originally shot in Technicolor, and oh for those prints to be restored! The scene is a joyous highlight of the film, even if it has no relevance to the plot.

The inane script, and terrible politics aside, the music is delightful and Joe Schenck and Gus Van are charming. The joyful chemistry between them, and with Bessie Love (who had previously starred in Broadway Melody, The Girl in the Show, and Chasing Rainbows) is clearly visible.

The camaraderie is also evident in the fun shower room scene following baseball practise. The entire male cast engages in silly play, and joyful ensemble singing of ‘Ten Sweet Mamas’. The fellow baseball players are good in their comedic sidekick roles, notably Tom Dugan as a stuttering fool.

The final scene was shot at Wrigley Stadium, and features 1000s of extras. Despite some repetitive use of one or two action shots, the scene successfully conveys the excitement and drama of a high stakes baseball game.

They Learned About Women was Van and Schenck’s last feature film. Schenck died suddenly of a heart attack whilst on tour in June, 1930, reportedly dying in Van’s arms.

The film was the basis for the 1949 musical Take Me Out to the Ball Game starring Gene Kelly, Frank Sinatra, and Esther Williams, and a guest appearance by Tom Dugan.

TCM released They Learned About Women on television and on laser-disc in the mid-1990s. The Warner Archive Collection released They Learned About Women on DVD in 2009. ​