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- Published on
Released on 30th December 1929, it's the final film of 1929! And we're going out with the blaze of a monumental flop.
Eddie Dowling and Betty Compson in Motion Picture (March 1930)
Date of Release: Dec 30, 1929
Studio: Sono-Art
Director: Renaud Hoffman
Screenplay: Henry McCarty, Renaud Hoffman
Music: James Brockman, Eddie Dowling, James F. Hanley, Ballard MacDonald, Joseph McCarthy
Leading Actors: Eddie Dowling (Eddie Williams), Betty Compson (Helen Williams),
Frankie Darro (Jean Williams), Henry B. Walthall (Burke), William Davidson (District Attorney), Ferdinand Schumann-Heink (Carl Hummel), Eddie Conrad (Abie), Frank Sabini (Tony), Broderick O'Farrell, The Rounders
Blaze o’ Glory was based on Thomas Alexander Boyd’s short story “The Long Shot”. It combined several genres, war, backstage, and crime drama, into one unbelievable tale. The plot followed Eddie Williams (Eddie Dowling) a former Follies star who has returned from serving in the War. One night whilst waiting for his wife Helen (Betty Compson) to return home, he sees her talking to a man in the street below. Believing Helen is having an affair, Eddie shoots the man. Eddie is arrested and put on trial for murder. His lawyer Burke (Henry B. Walthall) is able to have him exonerated, and all ends happily.
Sono-Art was one of the first studios to make a the same movie twice using different casts - one cast speaking in English, and the other in Spanish. The Spanish-language version was called Sombras de Gloria, and starred José “the Irving Berlin of South America” Bohr, and Mona Rico. The international cast and crew hailed from a diverse range of countries including Venezuela, Columbia, Argentina, Mexico, Portugal, Chile, Peru, and the Philippines.
Both versions were filmed at the Metropolitan Studios in Los Angeles.
Blaze o’ Glory opened at the George M. Cohan Theatre in New York. Tickets for the premier cost an outrageous $11 each. New York Times film reviewer Mordaunt Hall lamented “whether the entertainment was worth that depends upon how much tugging at the heart strings one can stand without becoming peevish.”
As reported by Variety, Blaze o’ Glory was edited down after opening night reviews panned the film. The edits could not save it, and the film played to mediocre houses.
The Film Daily described Blaze o’ Glory as “dull and lacking in continuity,” and Motion Picture News called it “hokum.” Photoplay stated it was “One of those leopard pictures… spotty.”
While the film overall received lackluster reviews, its stars fared better. The National Board of Review stated Eddie Dowling’s singing and acting were “worthy of commendation.”
Eddie Dowling was an incredibly influential and multi-talented performer who throughout his forty year career wrote, composed, directed, and produced for stage and screen. After starting out in vaudeville, Dowling went on to perform with the Ziegfeld Follies. He wrote and starred in the hit Broadway musical Sally, Irene and Mary, which was later adapted into a Hollywood film. Dowling appeared in over thirty Broadway shows as a principal player, also often producing, writing, and directing. He also appeared in Sono-Art’s first, and more successful 1929 musical, The Rainbow Man.
Betty Compson was described as “excellent” in her role. She appeared in several musicals in 1929 including Weary River, On With the Show, The Time, The Place and the Girl, Street Girl, and The Show of Shows.
Child actor Frankie Darrow received good notices, with Variety claiming “The kid is a real actor.” Born into a circus family, Darrow (also known as Frankie Darro) started performing at a very young age. As a child actor, he made many appearances in silent films, particularly in Westerns. He went on to appear in over 150 films and television shows in a career that spanned nearly fifty years. An online biography states Darrow was the male equivalent of Shirley Temple — minus the singing and dancing, but with the same level of charm and lovability. He had a brief romance and engagement with Virginia Gumm, sister to Frances Ethel Gumm, more famously known as Judy Garland.
The highest praise was reserved for Henry B. Walthall, with several critics giving special mention to his moving courtroom speech. Walthall started out as a stage actor and appeared in early silent films. His appearance in D. W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation led to consistent leading roles and he made a successful transition to talkies. Walthall continued to appear in films until 1936. Over the course of his career, he appeared in over 300 films including Klondike (1932), Me and My Gal (1932), and A Tale of Two Cities (1935).
Few reviewers mentioned the music, except to note that singing only occurred in flashbacks and that the songs were not particularly memorable. Mordaunt Hall noted in his New York Times review that Eddie Dowling was “mysteriously” accompanied by a full orchestra, suggesting that the film did not try to explain away a character breaking into song. Hall also noted that “The reproduction of the voices is quite life-like and it is a pity that the story itself is not so.”
The score featured the songs “What Do I Care?,” the novelty comedy song “The Man from the South With the Cigar in His Mouth,” ”Wrapped in a Red, Red, Rose,” “Doughboy’s Lullaby,” “Put a Little Salt on the Bluebird’s Tail,” and "Welcome Home."
The Spanish-language version also featured "Canoodle, Oodle Along,” and "Oh Paris."
Despite the critics' lack of enthusiasm, the songs sold well to the general public. The music writing team, James Brockman, Eddie Dowling, James Hanley, Ballard MacDonald, and Joseph McCarthy went on to continued successes.
Russian-born James Brockman started out as an actor before becoming a tunesmith for Hollywood films. His songs include “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles,” “I’m Like a Ship Without a Sail,” and “Down Among the Sheltering Palms.” Brockman was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970.
Composer James Hanley wrote mostly for the stage, and is most famously remembered for composing “Zing Went the Strings of My Heart”.
Ballard MacDonald was a prolific composer and lyricist for stage and film. Songs include “Beautiful Ohio,” “Rose of Washington Square,” “Clap Hands! Here Comes Charley!” and “There’s a Light That’s Burning in the Window of the Little House Upon the Hill.” MacDonald also contributed music to My Man (1928) and It’s a Great Life (1929).
Joseph McCarthy started out as a music publisher before turning his skills to writing for Broadway shows. He wrote for Broadway shows including Irene, the Ziegfeld Follies, and Rio Rita (which was also adapted into a film in 1929), and some of his songs include “You Made Me Love You,” “Oui, Oui, Marie,” and “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows.” McCarthy was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970.
Studio: Sono-Art
Director: Renaud Hoffman
Screenplay: Henry McCarty, Renaud Hoffman
Music: James Brockman, Eddie Dowling, James F. Hanley, Ballard MacDonald, Joseph McCarthy
Leading Actors: Eddie Dowling (Eddie Williams), Betty Compson (Helen Williams),
Frankie Darro (Jean Williams), Henry B. Walthall (Burke), William Davidson (District Attorney), Ferdinand Schumann-Heink (Carl Hummel), Eddie Conrad (Abie), Frank Sabini (Tony), Broderick O'Farrell, The Rounders
Blaze o’ Glory was based on Thomas Alexander Boyd’s short story “The Long Shot”. It combined several genres, war, backstage, and crime drama, into one unbelievable tale. The plot followed Eddie Williams (Eddie Dowling) a former Follies star who has returned from serving in the War. One night whilst waiting for his wife Helen (Betty Compson) to return home, he sees her talking to a man in the street below. Believing Helen is having an affair, Eddie shoots the man. Eddie is arrested and put on trial for murder. His lawyer Burke (Henry B. Walthall) is able to have him exonerated, and all ends happily.
Sono-Art was one of the first studios to make a the same movie twice using different casts - one cast speaking in English, and the other in Spanish. The Spanish-language version was called Sombras de Gloria, and starred José “the Irving Berlin of South America” Bohr, and Mona Rico. The international cast and crew hailed from a diverse range of countries including Venezuela, Columbia, Argentina, Mexico, Portugal, Chile, Peru, and the Philippines.
Both versions were filmed at the Metropolitan Studios in Los Angeles.
Blaze o’ Glory opened at the George M. Cohan Theatre in New York. Tickets for the premier cost an outrageous $11 each. New York Times film reviewer Mordaunt Hall lamented “whether the entertainment was worth that depends upon how much tugging at the heart strings one can stand without becoming peevish.”
As reported by Variety, Blaze o’ Glory was edited down after opening night reviews panned the film. The edits could not save it, and the film played to mediocre houses.
The Film Daily described Blaze o’ Glory as “dull and lacking in continuity,” and Motion Picture News called it “hokum.” Photoplay stated it was “One of those leopard pictures… spotty.”
While the film overall received lackluster reviews, its stars fared better. The National Board of Review stated Eddie Dowling’s singing and acting were “worthy of commendation.”
Eddie Dowling was an incredibly influential and multi-talented performer who throughout his forty year career wrote, composed, directed, and produced for stage and screen. After starting out in vaudeville, Dowling went on to perform with the Ziegfeld Follies. He wrote and starred in the hit Broadway musical Sally, Irene and Mary, which was later adapted into a Hollywood film. Dowling appeared in over thirty Broadway shows as a principal player, also often producing, writing, and directing. He also appeared in Sono-Art’s first, and more successful 1929 musical, The Rainbow Man.
Betty Compson was described as “excellent” in her role. She appeared in several musicals in 1929 including Weary River, On With the Show, The Time, The Place and the Girl, Street Girl, and The Show of Shows.
Child actor Frankie Darrow received good notices, with Variety claiming “The kid is a real actor.” Born into a circus family, Darrow (also known as Frankie Darro) started performing at a very young age. As a child actor, he made many appearances in silent films, particularly in Westerns. He went on to appear in over 150 films and television shows in a career that spanned nearly fifty years. An online biography states Darrow was the male equivalent of Shirley Temple — minus the singing and dancing, but with the same level of charm and lovability. He had a brief romance and engagement with Virginia Gumm, sister to Frances Ethel Gumm, more famously known as Judy Garland.
The highest praise was reserved for Henry B. Walthall, with several critics giving special mention to his moving courtroom speech. Walthall started out as a stage actor and appeared in early silent films. His appearance in D. W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation led to consistent leading roles and he made a successful transition to talkies. Walthall continued to appear in films until 1936. Over the course of his career, he appeared in over 300 films including Klondike (1932), Me and My Gal (1932), and A Tale of Two Cities (1935).
Few reviewers mentioned the music, except to note that singing only occurred in flashbacks and that the songs were not particularly memorable. Mordaunt Hall noted in his New York Times review that Eddie Dowling was “mysteriously” accompanied by a full orchestra, suggesting that the film did not try to explain away a character breaking into song. Hall also noted that “The reproduction of the voices is quite life-like and it is a pity that the story itself is not so.”
The score featured the songs “What Do I Care?,” the novelty comedy song “The Man from the South With the Cigar in His Mouth,” ”Wrapped in a Red, Red, Rose,” “Doughboy’s Lullaby,” “Put a Little Salt on the Bluebird’s Tail,” and "Welcome Home."
The Spanish-language version also featured "Canoodle, Oodle Along,” and "Oh Paris."
Despite the critics' lack of enthusiasm, the songs sold well to the general public. The music writing team, James Brockman, Eddie Dowling, James Hanley, Ballard MacDonald, and Joseph McCarthy went on to continued successes.
Russian-born James Brockman started out as an actor before becoming a tunesmith for Hollywood films. His songs include “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles,” “I’m Like a Ship Without a Sail,” and “Down Among the Sheltering Palms.” Brockman was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970.
Composer James Hanley wrote mostly for the stage, and is most famously remembered for composing “Zing Went the Strings of My Heart”.
Ballard MacDonald was a prolific composer and lyricist for stage and film. Songs include “Beautiful Ohio,” “Rose of Washington Square,” “Clap Hands! Here Comes Charley!” and “There’s a Light That’s Burning in the Window of the Little House Upon the Hill.” MacDonald also contributed music to My Man (1928) and It’s a Great Life (1929).
Joseph McCarthy started out as a music publisher before turning his skills to writing for Broadway shows. He wrote for Broadway shows including Irene, the Ziegfeld Follies, and Rio Rita (which was also adapted into a film in 1929), and some of his songs include “You Made Me Love You,” “Oui, Oui, Marie,” and “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows.” McCarthy was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970.
German-Argentinian actor Jose Bohr in Cinemundial (December 1929)
On 15 February 1930, the Spanish-language version of Blaze o’ Glory, Sombras de Gloria, became the first talkie to be played the newly wired-for-sound 55th Street Playhouse. The premier was reportedly attended by fifteen consuls from South American countries.
Sombras de Gloria also received negative reviews, though The Film Daily noted that José Bohr gave a good performance in the lead role. Born in Germany, raised in Chile, and naturalized as a Argentinian, Bohr was a popular singer and composer.
Despite hopes the film would play well in Spanish-speaking countries, Sombras de Gloria was also a monumental flop internationally.
Both Blaze o’ Glory and Sombras de Gloria are considered lost films.
Sombras de Gloria also received negative reviews, though The Film Daily noted that José Bohr gave a good performance in the lead role. Born in Germany, raised in Chile, and naturalized as a Argentinian, Bohr was a popular singer and composer.
Despite hopes the film would play well in Spanish-speaking countries, Sombras de Gloria was also a monumental flop internationally.
Both Blaze o’ Glory and Sombras de Gloria are considered lost films.
- Published on
Two sisters fight for the same man.
Olive Borden in Exhibitors Herald World (Oct 19, 1929)
Date of Release: Dec 29, 1929
Studio: First National
Director: William Beaudine
Screenplay: Ray Harris
Music: Al Bryan, Eddie Ward
Leading Actors: H. B. Warner (Lewis Dike), Lois Wilson (Cornelia Quinn), Olive Borden (Eve Quinn), Hallam Cooley (Wilfred Meadows), James Ford (Tom Hazelton), Kathlyn Williams (Agatha), Aileen Manning (Esther Quinn)
The Engagement
Wedding Rings was based on the book The Dark Swan (1924) by Ernest Pascal. English-born Pascal was a prolific writer who penned novels, Broadway plays and Hollywood screenplays. The Shirley Temple films Wee Willie Winke (1937) and The Blue Bird (1940) are among his forty screenwriting credits.
The story of Wedding Rings followed two sisters, Eve Quinn (Olive Borden), a flapper, and Cornelia Quinn (Lois Wilson), a “good girl.” Eve is forever stealing men away from Cornelia and it’s all fun and games until they meet Lewis Dike (H.B. Warner), a wealthy man. Olive falls in love with Lewis, but Eve succeeds in marrying him. Tired of Eve’s manipulations, Olive plots to break the newlyweds apart. All ends happily.
Variety thought the story trite, though felt the sister plotting to take away her sibling’s husband was “the “daring” modern angle" that "could be exploited.”
The Big Day and Reception
Opening on December 29, 1929 in New York, Wedding Rings played to strong houses around the country. Not everyone was happy with the film, as Exhibitors Herald World (Jan 4, 1930) reported, the censor in Ohio had the film banned and stated that “The picture will have to have to be entirely remade if shown.” No reason was given for the ban.
The critics gave Wedding Rings mixed reviews. The Film Daily described it as “highly entertaining” while Motion Picture News claimed it was “very dull and entirely too talkative.” Variety noted that the film was “beautifully acted and splendidly staged,” but described it as “dull.” A modern day reviewer on IMDb called the surviving reels "dead boring."
The Wedding Party
Variety praised the visuals of the production, and some of the credit must go to costume designer Edward Stevenson. Archives held at ISU Special Collections Digital Projects provide tantalizing descriptions of Stevenson’s designs for the film.
Stevenson worked for Fox, Columbia, First National, and eventually RKO, and became famous for designing beautiful gowns. In addition to his screen work, Stevenson ran a clothing boutique that catered to Hollywood’s most fashionable starlets. His work appeared in over two hundred films and television shows including Citizen Kane (1941), It’s A Wonderful Life (1946), The Lucy Show (1962-1968), and The Facts of Life (1960), the latter for which he won an Oscar.
Director William Beaudine, who had also directed The Girl from Woolworths, received generally positive reviews. After starting out as a silent film actor, Beaudine went on to become one of the most prolific directors of his time. He directed over 300 films and films and television shows, working in the UK and America, and for most of the major studios. Although he gained a reputation for low-budget films, he was highly respected within the industry for his efficiency and economical style of directing.
Variety felt actor H.B. Warner was miscast in his role. The Film Daily, however, gave him high praise stating “H.B. Warner adds another floral token to his bounty of successful and dramatically engrossing performances.” Born in England, Warner started out as a stage actor and worked on Broadway for over twenty years. He began working in film during the silent era, and made a successful transition to talkies, appearing in over 130 films. His credits include Mr. Deeds Goes to Washington (1936), It’s a Wonderful Life (1946), and Sunset Boulevard (1950).
The two female leads Lois Wilson was a much loved and highly regarded actress of stage and screen whose work spanned over four decades. She appeared in over 150 films including The Show of Shows (1929), Bright Eyes (1934), The Girl from Jones Beach (1949) and Guiding Light (1952).
In 1925 Olive Borden was named a WAMPAS Baby Star and quickly became a celebrated leading lady of the silent screen. Known as the “The Joy Girl,” Borden did not make a happy transition to talkies, and retired in 1934.
The Music
Wedding Rings was slated to feature three songs however it appears only two made the final cut – "Love Will Last Forever," a ballad, and "That's My Business," an up-tempo jazz number. Lois Wilson sang the ballad, while Olive Borden sang the jazz number. Variety stated “That’s My Business” was “nicely handled” and “likely to get some circulation.”
Both songs were composed by Al Bryan and Eddie Ward, who had previously worked together on The Show of Shows. Al Bryan frequently collaborated with Fred Fisher, and some of his well-known songs include “Come Josephine in my Flying Machine,” the popular antiwar song “I Didn’t Raise My Boy to be a Soldier,” and “Oui, Oui, Marie.” He was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970. His other credits from 1929 include The Wolf Song, Broadway Babies, The Girl from Woolworths, and Paris.
Eddie Ward was a prolific composer who worked extensively in Hollywood for over four decades. He was nominated seven times for an Academy Award for Best Music or Best Scoring. His film credits include The Show of Shows (1929), No, No, Nanette (1930), The Mystery of Edwin Drood (1935), The Women (1939), and Phantom of the Opera (1944).
It Didn't Last
Only 18 minutes worth of Wedding Rings survives, with the other reels deteriorating or missing altogether. Perhaps it's for the best this musical is no longer available...
Studio: First National
Director: William Beaudine
Screenplay: Ray Harris
Music: Al Bryan, Eddie Ward
Leading Actors: H. B. Warner (Lewis Dike), Lois Wilson (Cornelia Quinn), Olive Borden (Eve Quinn), Hallam Cooley (Wilfred Meadows), James Ford (Tom Hazelton), Kathlyn Williams (Agatha), Aileen Manning (Esther Quinn)
The Engagement
Wedding Rings was based on the book The Dark Swan (1924) by Ernest Pascal. English-born Pascal was a prolific writer who penned novels, Broadway plays and Hollywood screenplays. The Shirley Temple films Wee Willie Winke (1937) and The Blue Bird (1940) are among his forty screenwriting credits.
The story of Wedding Rings followed two sisters, Eve Quinn (Olive Borden), a flapper, and Cornelia Quinn (Lois Wilson), a “good girl.” Eve is forever stealing men away from Cornelia and it’s all fun and games until they meet Lewis Dike (H.B. Warner), a wealthy man. Olive falls in love with Lewis, but Eve succeeds in marrying him. Tired of Eve’s manipulations, Olive plots to break the newlyweds apart. All ends happily.
Variety thought the story trite, though felt the sister plotting to take away her sibling’s husband was “the “daring” modern angle" that "could be exploited.”
The Big Day and Reception
Opening on December 29, 1929 in New York, Wedding Rings played to strong houses around the country. Not everyone was happy with the film, as Exhibitors Herald World (Jan 4, 1930) reported, the censor in Ohio had the film banned and stated that “The picture will have to have to be entirely remade if shown.” No reason was given for the ban.
The critics gave Wedding Rings mixed reviews. The Film Daily described it as “highly entertaining” while Motion Picture News claimed it was “very dull and entirely too talkative.” Variety noted that the film was “beautifully acted and splendidly staged,” but described it as “dull.” A modern day reviewer on IMDb called the surviving reels "dead boring."
The Wedding Party
Variety praised the visuals of the production, and some of the credit must go to costume designer Edward Stevenson. Archives held at ISU Special Collections Digital Projects provide tantalizing descriptions of Stevenson’s designs for the film.
Stevenson worked for Fox, Columbia, First National, and eventually RKO, and became famous for designing beautiful gowns. In addition to his screen work, Stevenson ran a clothing boutique that catered to Hollywood’s most fashionable starlets. His work appeared in over two hundred films and television shows including Citizen Kane (1941), It’s A Wonderful Life (1946), The Lucy Show (1962-1968), and The Facts of Life (1960), the latter for which he won an Oscar.
Director William Beaudine, who had also directed The Girl from Woolworths, received generally positive reviews. After starting out as a silent film actor, Beaudine went on to become one of the most prolific directors of his time. He directed over 300 films and films and television shows, working in the UK and America, and for most of the major studios. Although he gained a reputation for low-budget films, he was highly respected within the industry for his efficiency and economical style of directing.
Variety felt actor H.B. Warner was miscast in his role. The Film Daily, however, gave him high praise stating “H.B. Warner adds another floral token to his bounty of successful and dramatically engrossing performances.” Born in England, Warner started out as a stage actor and worked on Broadway for over twenty years. He began working in film during the silent era, and made a successful transition to talkies, appearing in over 130 films. His credits include Mr. Deeds Goes to Washington (1936), It’s a Wonderful Life (1946), and Sunset Boulevard (1950).
The two female leads Lois Wilson was a much loved and highly regarded actress of stage and screen whose work spanned over four decades. She appeared in over 150 films including The Show of Shows (1929), Bright Eyes (1934), The Girl from Jones Beach (1949) and Guiding Light (1952).
In 1925 Olive Borden was named a WAMPAS Baby Star and quickly became a celebrated leading lady of the silent screen. Known as the “The Joy Girl,” Borden did not make a happy transition to talkies, and retired in 1934.
The Music
Wedding Rings was slated to feature three songs however it appears only two made the final cut – "Love Will Last Forever," a ballad, and "That's My Business," an up-tempo jazz number. Lois Wilson sang the ballad, while Olive Borden sang the jazz number. Variety stated “That’s My Business” was “nicely handled” and “likely to get some circulation.”
Both songs were composed by Al Bryan and Eddie Ward, who had previously worked together on The Show of Shows. Al Bryan frequently collaborated with Fred Fisher, and some of his well-known songs include “Come Josephine in my Flying Machine,” the popular antiwar song “I Didn’t Raise My Boy to be a Soldier,” and “Oui, Oui, Marie.” He was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1970. His other credits from 1929 include The Wolf Song, Broadway Babies, The Girl from Woolworths, and Paris.
Eddie Ward was a prolific composer who worked extensively in Hollywood for over four decades. He was nominated seven times for an Academy Award for Best Music or Best Scoring. His film credits include The Show of Shows (1929), No, No, Nanette (1930), The Mystery of Edwin Drood (1935), The Women (1939), and Phantom of the Opera (1944).
It Didn't Last
Only 18 minutes worth of Wedding Rings survives, with the other reels deteriorating or missing altogether. Perhaps it's for the best this musical is no longer available...
- Published on
Singing soldiers, a sword fight, a charismatic leading man, and ridiculous American and British accents in the middle of France, Devil-May-Care has it all.
Ramon Novarro and Dorothy Jordan in Screenland (March 1930)
Date of Release: Dec 27, 1929
Studio: MGM
Director: Sidney Franklin
Screenplay: Hans Kraly, Richard Schayer, Zelda Sears
Composers: Clifford Grey, Herbert Stothart, Dimitri Tiomkin
Choreography: Albertina Rasch
Leading Actors: Ramón Novarro (Armand), Dorothy Jordan (Léonie), Marion Harris (Louise). John Miljan (De Grignon), William Humphrey (Napoleon), George Davis (Groom), Clifford Bruce (Gaston)
Devil-May-Care was based on a play, La Bataille de dames (The Battle of the Ladies) by Augustin Eugène Scribe and Ernest Legouvé, which premiered in Paris in 1851.
The screenplay was written by a talented team of writers, Hans Kraly, Richard Schayer, and Zelda Sears, who all went on to successful careers in Hollywood. German born Hans Kraly, also known as Hanns Kräly, was an actor and writer. As an actor he only appeared in silent film. His writing career lasted over thirty years, spanning two continents. Kraly was nominated for three Academy Awards for Best Writing in 1930 and 1938, winning for The Patriot (1928).
Richard Schayer was a prolific writer who penned over 100 screenplays. His career spanned both silent and talkie films, and his credits include Devil-May-Care (1929), Frankenstein (1931), and The Mummy (1932). He eventually became a studio executive at Universal.
Zelda Sears started out as a reporter and stenographer, and after working on a script for a playwright became an actress. In addition to performing, Sears wrote scripts and lyrics for multiple Broadway productions in the first two decades of the twentieth century. After moving to Hollywood to work as a scenarist for MGM, Sears appeared in several Hollywood films, and wrote almost 30 screenplays including Devil-May-Care (1929), The Divorcee (1930), You Can’t Buy Everything (1934) and A Wicked Woman (1934).
The film tells the story of Armand (Ramón Novarro), a Bonapartist soldier, who cleverly escapes execution. Whilst on the run, he finds himself in the bedroom of “the most beautiful girl,” Léonie (Dorothy Jordan). Armand once again eludes the soldiers, this time finding refuge disguised as a footman at the chateau of his good friend Louise (Marion Harris). The next day, who should come to stay but Louise’s cousin, Léonie, who we discover is a staunch Royalist due to the fact Napoleon killed her family.
All the women of the household are in love with the delightful Armand, but he only has eyes for Léonie. Léonie returns his affection, but becomes distraught when she learns he is a Bonapartist.
Armand receives intelligence that Napoleon has returned to France, and he leaves the chateau to reunite with his men. Louise informs Armand that Léonie has run away with a pompous Royal soldier, proving that Léonie must really love Armand. Armand flies to her side and rescues her (against her will). The next morning, Armand and Léonie are singing love songs by the river
Studio: MGM
Director: Sidney Franklin
Screenplay: Hans Kraly, Richard Schayer, Zelda Sears
Composers: Clifford Grey, Herbert Stothart, Dimitri Tiomkin
Choreography: Albertina Rasch
Leading Actors: Ramón Novarro (Armand), Dorothy Jordan (Léonie), Marion Harris (Louise). John Miljan (De Grignon), William Humphrey (Napoleon), George Davis (Groom), Clifford Bruce (Gaston)
Devil-May-Care was based on a play, La Bataille de dames (The Battle of the Ladies) by Augustin Eugène Scribe and Ernest Legouvé, which premiered in Paris in 1851.
The screenplay was written by a talented team of writers, Hans Kraly, Richard Schayer, and Zelda Sears, who all went on to successful careers in Hollywood. German born Hans Kraly, also known as Hanns Kräly, was an actor and writer. As an actor he only appeared in silent film. His writing career lasted over thirty years, spanning two continents. Kraly was nominated for three Academy Awards for Best Writing in 1930 and 1938, winning for The Patriot (1928).
Richard Schayer was a prolific writer who penned over 100 screenplays. His career spanned both silent and talkie films, and his credits include Devil-May-Care (1929), Frankenstein (1931), and The Mummy (1932). He eventually became a studio executive at Universal.
Zelda Sears started out as a reporter and stenographer, and after working on a script for a playwright became an actress. In addition to performing, Sears wrote scripts and lyrics for multiple Broadway productions in the first two decades of the twentieth century. After moving to Hollywood to work as a scenarist for MGM, Sears appeared in several Hollywood films, and wrote almost 30 screenplays including Devil-May-Care (1929), The Divorcee (1930), You Can’t Buy Everything (1934) and A Wicked Woman (1934).
The film tells the story of Armand (Ramón Novarro), a Bonapartist soldier, who cleverly escapes execution. Whilst on the run, he finds himself in the bedroom of “the most beautiful girl,” Léonie (Dorothy Jordan). Armand once again eludes the soldiers, this time finding refuge disguised as a footman at the chateau of his good friend Louise (Marion Harris). The next day, who should come to stay but Louise’s cousin, Léonie, who we discover is a staunch Royalist due to the fact Napoleon killed her family.
All the women of the household are in love with the delightful Armand, but he only has eyes for Léonie. Léonie returns his affection, but becomes distraught when she learns he is a Bonapartist.
Armand receives intelligence that Napoleon has returned to France, and he leaves the chateau to reunite with his men. Louise informs Armand that Léonie has run away with a pompous Royal soldier, proving that Léonie must really love Armand. Armand flies to her side and rescues her (against her will). The next morning, Armand and Léonie are singing love songs by the river
Screenland's "Shot of the Month" (Jan 1930)
The plot of Devil-May-Care may be ridiculous, but the music is wonderful. In a refreshing break from 1929 conventions, the music actually contributes to the story-telling. The sense of Armand as a roguish paramour is heightened by the delightful patter-type songs “Bon Jour, Louie,” and “Madame Pompadour.” Novarro is equally at home singing love songs, with the sweet “Charming.”
The women are also given a chance to sing, with Marion Harris delivering a wonderful “If He Cared.” Her mezzo voice is warm and full of feeling, and seems like a pre-cursor to the matron songs of Rodgers and Hammerstein. Dorothy Jordan’s singing voice is less appealing (as is her character overall), and given the vast difference in her performance between scenes, it is feasible her reprise of “If He Cared” was dubbed.
Reprises are used to great effect, particularly with the return of Napoleon’s soldiers singing “March of the Old Guard.” The full male chorus is stirring with its rich full harmonies, and a welcome break from musicals full of scantily clad women.
Like the writing team, the music team of Clifford Grey, Herbert Stothart, and Dimitri Tiomkin went onto great success. Clifford Grey had a prominent career as an actor and writer in London revues before working as a song writer and librettist in New York. After a brief stint in Hollywood, Grey returned to England where he wrote screenplays and scores for British films.
Herbert Stothart was a teacher, composer, and music director. He worked prolifically on Broadway, and contributed music to over 100 films. His songs include “Tramps at Sea,” “The Cossack Love Song,” and “The Donkey Serenade.”
Russian born Dimitri Tiomkin was a highly acclaimed composer who wrote for stage and screen. He started out as accompanist for silent film and ballet. After moving to New York, he worked with, and eventually married, ballerina Albertina Rasch. In Hollywood, Tiomkin contributed music to and conducted nearly 150 films. He was nominated for an incredible seventeen Academy Awards, winning four – Best Music and Best Song for High Noon (1952), Best Music for The High and the Mighty (1954) and Best Music for The Old Man and the Sea (1958).
Of course, Devil-May-Care wouldn’t be an early musical without a female ensemble of some kind. Keeping things in-house, the Albertina Rasch ballet makes a superfluous appearance at the Grenoble celebration for Napoleon’s return. The Technicolor number has a Spanish, rather than French, flavor to it, but the costumes are spectacular. The dance corps is small compared to other films, though the use of a reflecting pool and clever camera angles makes for a visually appealing scene.
Devil-May-Care opened to favorable reviews. The Film Daily described the film as “High caliber entertainment for everybody,” and The Educational Screen stated it was “quite delightful entertainment.” The film was included in the National Board of Review Magazine “Selected Pictures Guide” (Feb 1930) who described it as “An unusually interesting and well done costume drama.”
The women are also given a chance to sing, with Marion Harris delivering a wonderful “If He Cared.” Her mezzo voice is warm and full of feeling, and seems like a pre-cursor to the matron songs of Rodgers and Hammerstein. Dorothy Jordan’s singing voice is less appealing (as is her character overall), and given the vast difference in her performance between scenes, it is feasible her reprise of “If He Cared” was dubbed.
Reprises are used to great effect, particularly with the return of Napoleon’s soldiers singing “March of the Old Guard.” The full male chorus is stirring with its rich full harmonies, and a welcome break from musicals full of scantily clad women.
Like the writing team, the music team of Clifford Grey, Herbert Stothart, and Dimitri Tiomkin went onto great success. Clifford Grey had a prominent career as an actor and writer in London revues before working as a song writer and librettist in New York. After a brief stint in Hollywood, Grey returned to England where he wrote screenplays and scores for British films.
Herbert Stothart was a teacher, composer, and music director. He worked prolifically on Broadway, and contributed music to over 100 films. His songs include “Tramps at Sea,” “The Cossack Love Song,” and “The Donkey Serenade.”
Russian born Dimitri Tiomkin was a highly acclaimed composer who wrote for stage and screen. He started out as accompanist for silent film and ballet. After moving to New York, he worked with, and eventually married, ballerina Albertina Rasch. In Hollywood, Tiomkin contributed music to and conducted nearly 150 films. He was nominated for an incredible seventeen Academy Awards, winning four – Best Music and Best Song for High Noon (1952), Best Music for The High and the Mighty (1954) and Best Music for The Old Man and the Sea (1958).
Of course, Devil-May-Care wouldn’t be an early musical without a female ensemble of some kind. Keeping things in-house, the Albertina Rasch ballet makes a superfluous appearance at the Grenoble celebration for Napoleon’s return. The Technicolor number has a Spanish, rather than French, flavor to it, but the costumes are spectacular. The dance corps is small compared to other films, though the use of a reflecting pool and clever camera angles makes for a visually appealing scene.
Devil-May-Care opened to favorable reviews. The Film Daily described the film as “High caliber entertainment for everybody,” and The Educational Screen stated it was “quite delightful entertainment.” The film was included in the National Board of Review Magazine “Selected Pictures Guide” (Feb 1930) who described it as “An unusually interesting and well done costume drama.”
Ramón Navarro, Picture Play (Jan 1930)
Ramón Novarro is genuinely charming, and received good notices for his first full-length talkie (earlier in the year he had appeared in The Pagan, in which he sang two songs). Praised by The Film Daily as one of the “greatest of the young romantic actors,” Mexican-born Novarro was a popular romantic leading man of the silent and early talkie era. He appeared in over 60 films and television shows including Ben-Hur (1925), The Cat and the Fiddle (1934), and Dr. Kildare (1964). He was tragically murdered in his home at the age of 69. A biography, Beyond Paradise: The Life of Ramon Novarro, was published in 2003.
Dorothy Jordan gives a weak performance as Léonie. She was a trained dancer who performed on stage and screen. Starting out as Adele Astaire’s understudy, Jordan moved to Hollywood just as talkies were taking off. She appeared in nearly thirty films including Words and Music (1929), In Gay Madrid (1930), The Cabin in the Cotton (1932) and The Wings of Eagles (1957).
Despite sounding like the most proper British Frenchwoman you’ve ever heard (until Cosette), Marion Harris is truly delightful as Louise. She is warm and genuine, and it is difficult to understand why she received such terrible reviews. Harris started out in vaudeville and went on to become a successful recording artist singing blues and jazz. Her hit recordings include “The Man I Love,” “Tea for Two,” “Look for the Silver Lining,” “After You’ve Gone,” and “St. Louis Blues.”
Devil-May-Care initially opened to mediocre houses, however business improved in the new year. The film premiered at the Astor Theatre in New York City, replacing The Hollywood Revue of 1929. The stage was set with “an elaborate and colorful Versailles garden” complete with working fountain, designed by Louis K. Sidney.
Dorothy Jordan gives a weak performance as Léonie. She was a trained dancer who performed on stage and screen. Starting out as Adele Astaire’s understudy, Jordan moved to Hollywood just as talkies were taking off. She appeared in nearly thirty films including Words and Music (1929), In Gay Madrid (1930), The Cabin in the Cotton (1932) and The Wings of Eagles (1957).
Despite sounding like the most proper British Frenchwoman you’ve ever heard (until Cosette), Marion Harris is truly delightful as Louise. She is warm and genuine, and it is difficult to understand why she received such terrible reviews. Harris started out in vaudeville and went on to become a successful recording artist singing blues and jazz. Her hit recordings include “The Man I Love,” “Tea for Two,” “Look for the Silver Lining,” “After You’ve Gone,” and “St. Louis Blues.”
Devil-May-Care initially opened to mediocre houses, however business improved in the new year. The film premiered at the Astor Theatre in New York City, replacing The Hollywood Revue of 1929. The stage was set with “an elaborate and colorful Versailles garden” complete with working fountain, designed by Louis K. Sidney.
Motion Picture News (Jan 4, 1930)
Ramón Navarro featured heavily in advertisements, and several theatres also employed unusual gimmicks to promote the film. The State Theatre in Minneapolis worked with Purity Baking Co. to have 45,000 ads placed in loaves of bread. The Harmanus Beeker theatre in Albany used a “concealed name contest in the classified ad pages,” and also had tie-in with a local music store. The Chicago Theatre in Chicago held a “Ramón Navarro Night” complete with a live orchestra and small group of ballerinas. Finally, the Regent theatre in Springfield held an “elaborate Spring Fashion Revue” that was tied in with an intricate window display at the Home Store.
Devil-May-Care is currently available on YouTube and from the Warner Archive. Worth a watch for the so-bad-it's-brilliant plot, delightful score, and the charming Novarro.
Devil-May-Care is currently available on YouTube and from the Warner Archive. Worth a watch for the so-bad-it's-brilliant plot, delightful score, and the charming Novarro.
- Published on
Tedious and forgettable.
Screenland (March 1930)
Date of Release: Dec 21, 1929
Studio: Paramount
Director: A. Edward Sutherland
Screenplay: Florence Ryerson, John V.A. Weaver
Music: Dimitri Tiomkin, Mack Gordon, Max Rich, Leo Robin, Richard A. Whiting
Leading Actors: William Powell (Robert Courtland), Fay Wray (Lora Nixon), Helen Kane (Dot Nixon), Richard "Skeets" Gallagher (Dash Nixon), Phillips Holmes (Donald Ogden), Adrienne Dore (Kay Wilcox), Eugene Pallette (Joe Clark)
Studio: Paramount
Director: A. Edward Sutherland
Screenplay: Florence Ryerson, John V.A. Weaver
Music: Dimitri Tiomkin, Mack Gordon, Max Rich, Leo Robin, Richard A. Whiting
Leading Actors: William Powell (Robert Courtland), Fay Wray (Lora Nixon), Helen Kane (Dot Nixon), Richard "Skeets" Gallagher (Dash Nixon), Phillips Holmes (Donald Ogden), Adrienne Dore (Kay Wilcox), Eugene Pallette (Joe Clark)
Before we were married, I had my head in my clouds. Now my feet are firmly on the ground the ground. I’ve got pointed heels.”
So says Lora Nixon (Fay Wray), a mediocre actress who must stay in work whilst her musician husband Donald Ogden (Philips Holmes) struggles to write his next masterpiece. The couple’s marriage has been tested by the rich producer Robert Courtland (William Powell) who is in love with Lora and wants her for himself. The drama is off-set by the comedic Dot and Dash (Helen Kane and Richard “Skeets” Gallagher”), Lora’s sister and brother-in-law. Of course, all ends happily.
Lora is sweet and demure, but very capable in the kitchen. Donald is a passionate musician and ultimately dumb. Dot boop-boop-i-doops through her songs, and Dash wise-cracks through everything.
With its unlikeable characters, banal plot, and lackluster score, Pointed Heels is tedious and forgettable.
The one glimmer of redemption is in the wonderful backstage shots. A variety of unusual angles and dynamic composition help to create the excitement of the backstage world before, and during, a show.
Lora is sweet and demure, but very capable in the kitchen. Donald is a passionate musician and ultimately dumb. Dot boop-boop-i-doops through her songs, and Dash wise-cracks through everything.
With its unlikeable characters, banal plot, and lackluster score, Pointed Heels is tedious and forgettable.
The one glimmer of redemption is in the wonderful backstage shots. A variety of unusual angles and dynamic composition help to create the excitement of the backstage world before, and during, a show.
A tantalizing shot of a program announcing the “Versailles Ballet” performed by the Albertina Rasch Ballet gives us hope for a spectacular dance sequence. The Technicolor ballet was described by Photoplay as “swell,” and by The Film Daily as “an especially fast ballet number.” The Technicolor footage was only recently restored, and not included in the DVD copy I viewed.
Pointed Heels was Paramount’s first Technicolor film. Production had commenced in August 1929, and the film was released in December.
Pointed Heels was Paramount’s first Technicolor film. Production had commenced in August 1929, and the film was released in December.
Motion Picture News (Feb 1, 1930)
At the Paramount Theatre in Atlanta, Georgia, the film was used to help promote the theatre’s ninth birthday. As reported in Motion Picture News (Jan 18, 1930) women were employed to hang cut-out letters outside the theatre, purposefully misspelling words to great effect. Meanwhile in Kentucky, promotions included a giant glittering red shoe on the marquis and elaborate storefront display.
Popular actor Helen Kane, famous for being (the possible) inspiration for the cartoon character Betty Boop, was featured heavily in advertisements for the film.
Music from the film, penned by Paramount’s prolific music department and generally well-received by the critics, was aired on radio on the Publix-Paramount Hour.
Historian Richard Barrios describes Pointed Heels as “Paramount’s disappointing holiday attraction for 1929,” however the film played to sold-out houses around the country, even breaking attendance records. According to The Film Daily, the picture bought in $94,000 in Brooklyn - where the previous record had been $89,000.
Overall the critics lamented the weak script but found Pointed Heels enjoyable. Several reviewers praised the film’s freshness and unique charm. As film blogger Nora Fiore (The Nitrate Diva) note, for audiences in late 1929, the film was a welcome break from the “shock of the Great Depression.”
Pointed Heels was based on a short story by Charles William Brackett, who went on to become one of Hollywood’s most prolific screenwriters. In an infamous partnership with Billy Wilder, Brackett co-wrote Ninotchka (1939), The Lost Weekend (1945), A Foreign Affair (1948), and Sunset Boulevard (1950). As a producer, Brackett worked on Titantic (1953), The King and I (1956), and State Fair (1962).
The screenplay was written by Florence Ryerson, a prolific writer who worked in Hollywood for almost forty years. In addition to penning novels and several Broadway plays, Ryerson wrote or contributed to over 40 screenplays including Everybody Sing (1938) and, most famously, The Wizard of Oz (1939). A collection of Ryerson’s papers is held at the New York Public Library.
Director Edward Sutherland received good reviews, as did Fay Wray, Skeets Gallagher and Helen Kane. Born into a theatrical family, Edward Sutherland started out as an actor in silent comedies before becoming a director. His directing credits include Close Harmony (1929), The Dance of Life (1929), Paramount on Parade (1930), Poppy (1936), The Boys from Syracuse (1940), Dixie (1943) and Abie’s Irish Rose (1946).
Fay Wray was referred to as a young Gloria Swanson. Despite appearing in over 100 films in a career spanning some sixty years, Canadian-born Wray is best remembered for her appearance as Ann Darrow in the 1933 classic King Kong.
Richard "Skeets" Gallagher started out in vaudeville and performed several times on Broadway. After being signed to Paramount, Gallagher appeared in over 60 films in a career spanning nearly four decades.
Pointed Heels is mercifully only an hour long. Perhaps the Technicolor ballet will make for interesting viewing, but you’ll be dragging your heels to get to the end.
Popular actor Helen Kane, famous for being (the possible) inspiration for the cartoon character Betty Boop, was featured heavily in advertisements for the film.
Music from the film, penned by Paramount’s prolific music department and generally well-received by the critics, was aired on radio on the Publix-Paramount Hour.
Historian Richard Barrios describes Pointed Heels as “Paramount’s disappointing holiday attraction for 1929,” however the film played to sold-out houses around the country, even breaking attendance records. According to The Film Daily, the picture bought in $94,000 in Brooklyn - where the previous record had been $89,000.
Overall the critics lamented the weak script but found Pointed Heels enjoyable. Several reviewers praised the film’s freshness and unique charm. As film blogger Nora Fiore (The Nitrate Diva) note, for audiences in late 1929, the film was a welcome break from the “shock of the Great Depression.”
Pointed Heels was based on a short story by Charles William Brackett, who went on to become one of Hollywood’s most prolific screenwriters. In an infamous partnership with Billy Wilder, Brackett co-wrote Ninotchka (1939), The Lost Weekend (1945), A Foreign Affair (1948), and Sunset Boulevard (1950). As a producer, Brackett worked on Titantic (1953), The King and I (1956), and State Fair (1962).
The screenplay was written by Florence Ryerson, a prolific writer who worked in Hollywood for almost forty years. In addition to penning novels and several Broadway plays, Ryerson wrote or contributed to over 40 screenplays including Everybody Sing (1938) and, most famously, The Wizard of Oz (1939). A collection of Ryerson’s papers is held at the New York Public Library.
Director Edward Sutherland received good reviews, as did Fay Wray, Skeets Gallagher and Helen Kane. Born into a theatrical family, Edward Sutherland started out as an actor in silent comedies before becoming a director. His directing credits include Close Harmony (1929), The Dance of Life (1929), Paramount on Parade (1930), Poppy (1936), The Boys from Syracuse (1940), Dixie (1943) and Abie’s Irish Rose (1946).
Fay Wray was referred to as a young Gloria Swanson. Despite appearing in over 100 films in a career spanning some sixty years, Canadian-born Wray is best remembered for her appearance as Ann Darrow in the 1933 classic King Kong.
Richard "Skeets" Gallagher started out in vaudeville and performed several times on Broadway. After being signed to Paramount, Gallagher appeared in over 60 films in a career spanning nearly four decades.
Pointed Heels is mercifully only an hour long. Perhaps the Technicolor ballet will make for interesting viewing, but you’ll be dragging your heels to get to the end.
- Published on
Early 1929 musical that is a part-talkie and part-silent film about a singing gangster.
Richard Barthelmess as Jerry Larrabee (Photoplay, Feb 1929)
Date of Release: Jan 25, 1929
Studio: First National
Director: Frank Lloyd
Screenplay: Courtney Ryley Cooper, Bradley King, Tom J. Geraghty, Paul Perez
Music: Grant Clarke, Louis Silvers
Leading Actors: Richard Barthelmess (Jerry Larrabee), Betty Compson (Alice), William Holden (Warden), Louis Natheaux (Spadoni), George Stone (Blackie), Raymond Turner (Elevator boy), Gladden James (Manager)
Weary River, a part-silent, part-talkie musical film, tells the story of Jerry Larrabee (Richard Barthelmess), a gangster who is framed for a shooting and sent to prison. Befriended by the kindly warden (William Holden), and shaken by the hanging of a fellow prisoner, Larrabee turns his life around through the power of music. Thanks to his work with the prison band, Larrabee is granted an early pardon. Back out in the world, he struggles to stay away from the seedy underworld. Alice, Jerry's doting girlfriend (Betty Compson), and the warden help Jerry to find happiness.
The film alternates between silent and talkie, with the talkie scenes inevitably leading into song. The silent scenes are artistically superior, with interesting composition, powerful acting from the leads, and a cracking pace. Particularly noteworthy is the haunting use of shadow to depict a convict's hanging, which takes place outside Larrabee's prison cell window.
Once the microphones are switched on, all artistry flies out the door. The shots become less interesting, the dialogue is trite, and the acting is weak. Jerry Larrabee does all the singing, crooning sappy love songs to his girlfriend, Alice. The songs do not match his gruff gangster character, and the multiple repeats of the film’s title song are uninspiring.
Barthelmess insisted he did his own singing, but it was later revealed that the singing had been dubbed by Johnny Murray.
The critics were divided as to whether the talkie/silent split worked, though most agreed that the dialogue slowed the pacing of the film.
Overall, Weary River received mixed reviews. Cine-Mundial stated “Not only is the river weary, so is the viewer,” and The Film Daily lamented that the “story lacks action and rambles too much."
Meanwhile, Close Up magazine film critic Walter Kron claimed Weary River was "one of the best talkies" he had seen. The National Board of Review Magazine included the film in its selected pictures guide, and noted “The acting and directing is good and the atmosphere in the prison sequences is well created.” Variety was also enthusiastic, stating “The advantage of Weary River is that it is artistic without being hard to 'get'.”
Richard Barthelmess' performance received mixed reviews. The Film Daily described his acting as “splendid,” while The New York Times lamented “It is a pity that Mr Barthemless should waste his talent on such a hopeless hodge-podge as this.”
Despite with lukewarm reviews, Weary River was one of the top-selling, and top-priced, tickets in town. Although the Central was a smaller theatre, the film had some of the highest box office numbers in its opening week. Business only continued to improve, and Weary River grossed higher than the popular musical hit The Broadway Melody, playing to sold out houses for over 8 weeks.
As talkies continued to blossom, so did its cast and crew. In a career spanning close to five decades, Scottish-born director Frank Lloyd directed over 130 films. He was nominated four times for an Academy Award for Best Director, winning for The Divine Lady (1929) and Mutiny on the Bounty (1935).
Josephine McLaughlin, writing under the pseudonym of Bradley King, was one of the leading female screenwriters of the 1920s and 1930s. She wrote sixty screenplays, including A Passport to Hell (1932), Maid of Salem (1937), and That’s My Man (1947). More information can be found at the Women Film Pioneers Project.
Richard Barthelmess, who had been a child actor in the theatre and an immensely popular silent film actor, continued to appear in films including The Show of Shows (1929), The Cabin in the Cotton (1932), and The Man Who Talked Too Much (1940, until his retirement in 1942.
Studio: First National
Director: Frank Lloyd
Screenplay: Courtney Ryley Cooper, Bradley King, Tom J. Geraghty, Paul Perez
Music: Grant Clarke, Louis Silvers
Leading Actors: Richard Barthelmess (Jerry Larrabee), Betty Compson (Alice), William Holden (Warden), Louis Natheaux (Spadoni), George Stone (Blackie), Raymond Turner (Elevator boy), Gladden James (Manager)
Weary River, a part-silent, part-talkie musical film, tells the story of Jerry Larrabee (Richard Barthelmess), a gangster who is framed for a shooting and sent to prison. Befriended by the kindly warden (William Holden), and shaken by the hanging of a fellow prisoner, Larrabee turns his life around through the power of music. Thanks to his work with the prison band, Larrabee is granted an early pardon. Back out in the world, he struggles to stay away from the seedy underworld. Alice, Jerry's doting girlfriend (Betty Compson), and the warden help Jerry to find happiness.
The film alternates between silent and talkie, with the talkie scenes inevitably leading into song. The silent scenes are artistically superior, with interesting composition, powerful acting from the leads, and a cracking pace. Particularly noteworthy is the haunting use of shadow to depict a convict's hanging, which takes place outside Larrabee's prison cell window.
Once the microphones are switched on, all artistry flies out the door. The shots become less interesting, the dialogue is trite, and the acting is weak. Jerry Larrabee does all the singing, crooning sappy love songs to his girlfriend, Alice. The songs do not match his gruff gangster character, and the multiple repeats of the film’s title song are uninspiring.
Barthelmess insisted he did his own singing, but it was later revealed that the singing had been dubbed by Johnny Murray.
The critics were divided as to whether the talkie/silent split worked, though most agreed that the dialogue slowed the pacing of the film.
Overall, Weary River received mixed reviews. Cine-Mundial stated “Not only is the river weary, so is the viewer,” and The Film Daily lamented that the “story lacks action and rambles too much."
Meanwhile, Close Up magazine film critic Walter Kron claimed Weary River was "one of the best talkies" he had seen. The National Board of Review Magazine included the film in its selected pictures guide, and noted “The acting and directing is good and the atmosphere in the prison sequences is well created.” Variety was also enthusiastic, stating “The advantage of Weary River is that it is artistic without being hard to 'get'.”
Richard Barthelmess' performance received mixed reviews. The Film Daily described his acting as “splendid,” while The New York Times lamented “It is a pity that Mr Barthemless should waste his talent on such a hopeless hodge-podge as this.”
Despite with lukewarm reviews, Weary River was one of the top-selling, and top-priced, tickets in town. Although the Central was a smaller theatre, the film had some of the highest box office numbers in its opening week. Business only continued to improve, and Weary River grossed higher than the popular musical hit The Broadway Melody, playing to sold out houses for over 8 weeks.
As talkies continued to blossom, so did its cast and crew. In a career spanning close to five decades, Scottish-born director Frank Lloyd directed over 130 films. He was nominated four times for an Academy Award for Best Director, winning for The Divine Lady (1929) and Mutiny on the Bounty (1935).
Josephine McLaughlin, writing under the pseudonym of Bradley King, was one of the leading female screenwriters of the 1920s and 1930s. She wrote sixty screenplays, including A Passport to Hell (1932), Maid of Salem (1937), and That’s My Man (1947). More information can be found at the Women Film Pioneers Project.
Richard Barthelmess, who had been a child actor in the theatre and an immensely popular silent film actor, continued to appear in films including The Show of Shows (1929), The Cabin in the Cotton (1932), and The Man Who Talked Too Much (1940, until his retirement in 1942.
Betty Compson and Richard Barthelmess in Photoplay (March 1929)
Betty Compson was a popular and talented actress who appeared in over two hundred films. By the age of 16 she was touring as a violin soloist on the vaudeville circuit. After being spotted by a producer, Compson went into film and became a versatile silent film actress. After running her own production company during the silent era, Compson continued to perform in well-received films throughout 1930s. Sadly, the studios considered her “old” by the age of 40, and her roles became increasingly smaller.
Weary River provides a great example of the difficult transition from silent to talkie. It has flashes of brilliance, but overall is, as the title suggests, a tiresome film.
Thanks to the work of the Library of Congress, UCLA, Warner Bros, and Turner Entertainment, Weary River is available through the Warner Bros Archive Collection.
Weary River provides a great example of the difficult transition from silent to talkie. It has flashes of brilliance, but overall is, as the title suggests, a tiresome film.
Thanks to the work of the Library of Congress, UCLA, Warner Bros, and Turner Entertainment, Weary River is available through the Warner Bros Archive Collection.
- Published on
Sequel to The Cock-Eyed World (1929).
Screenland (March 1930)
Date of Release: Dec 22, 1929
Studio: Fox
Director: Raoul Walsh
Screenplay: Charles J. McGuirk, Raoul Walsh, William K. Wells
Composers: Walter Donaldson, Edgar Leslie
Leading Actors: Victor McLaglen, Fifi D’Orsay, El Brendel, Polly Moran, Lennox Pawle, August Tollaire, George Fawcett, Charles Judels, Edward Dillon, Rosita Marstini, Agostino Borgato, Yola d’Avril, Anita Murray, Dave Balles
What a relief Hot for Paris is a lost film. Described by the critics as “broad, vulgar” and a purely “male divertissement,” Hot for Paris was the sequel of the painfully sexist lackluster musical The Cock-Eyed World.
Director Raoul Walsh was once again working with lead Victor McLaglen, and Fifi D’Orsay was bought in as the token charming French girl.
In mid-October 1929 Motion Picture News reported that production on had been delayed until 1930. On December 7, however the same magazine printed a review. Production must have happened very quickly, though it is not clear why a delay was announced in the first place.
Theatre managers employed the usual array of gimmicks to attract pundits. At a couple of theatres, managers developed the trick of making steam rise from the Hot for Paris front of house sign which “unquestionably attracted a lot of attention,” and in one instance resulted in the fire brigade being called in. Another theatre displayed a cut-out of Fifi D’Orsay “in the act of taking off a stocking.”
At the Fox Japanese Garden in NYC, the theatre had a tie-in with a local restaurant, Fleischer’s, offering “a “'hot' meal” followed by the film. The meal was a “special blue plate dinner of boneless chicken pot pie and vegetables.”
Larger theatres also used live stage shows to flesh out the bill. At the Roxy in New York, a stage show ran in conjunction with the film that had an elaborate Moulin Rouge themed set with “gala signs [and] electrically studded windmill paddles.” The live show included Apache, Russian and Spanish dances and songs, the Roxy chorus, a ballet corps, and “32 Markert girls.” The show ran for over two hours, and led into Hot for Paris, which only ran for 71 minutes. Variety (January 1930) described the stage show as one of the best of its kind. The Academy Theatre brought in a “girl band that’s rated a draw.”
Studio: Fox
Director: Raoul Walsh
Screenplay: Charles J. McGuirk, Raoul Walsh, William K. Wells
Composers: Walter Donaldson, Edgar Leslie
Leading Actors: Victor McLaglen, Fifi D’Orsay, El Brendel, Polly Moran, Lennox Pawle, August Tollaire, George Fawcett, Charles Judels, Edward Dillon, Rosita Marstini, Agostino Borgato, Yola d’Avril, Anita Murray, Dave Balles
What a relief Hot for Paris is a lost film. Described by the critics as “broad, vulgar” and a purely “male divertissement,” Hot for Paris was the sequel of the painfully sexist lackluster musical The Cock-Eyed World.
Director Raoul Walsh was once again working with lead Victor McLaglen, and Fifi D’Orsay was bought in as the token charming French girl.
In mid-October 1929 Motion Picture News reported that production on had been delayed until 1930. On December 7, however the same magazine printed a review. Production must have happened very quickly, though it is not clear why a delay was announced in the first place.
Theatre managers employed the usual array of gimmicks to attract pundits. At a couple of theatres, managers developed the trick of making steam rise from the Hot for Paris front of house sign which “unquestionably attracted a lot of attention,” and in one instance resulted in the fire brigade being called in. Another theatre displayed a cut-out of Fifi D’Orsay “in the act of taking off a stocking.”
At the Fox Japanese Garden in NYC, the theatre had a tie-in with a local restaurant, Fleischer’s, offering “a “'hot' meal” followed by the film. The meal was a “special blue plate dinner of boneless chicken pot pie and vegetables.”
Larger theatres also used live stage shows to flesh out the bill. At the Roxy in New York, a stage show ran in conjunction with the film that had an elaborate Moulin Rouge themed set with “gala signs [and] electrically studded windmill paddles.” The live show included Apache, Russian and Spanish dances and songs, the Roxy chorus, a ballet corps, and “32 Markert girls.” The show ran for over two hours, and led into Hot for Paris, which only ran for 71 minutes. Variety (January 1930) described the stage show as one of the best of its kind. The Academy Theatre brought in a “girl band that’s rated a draw.”
The reviews for Hot for Paris were mixed. The Film Daily (Jan 5, 1929) described it as “Full strength entertainment, directed with a punch. Bound to click far and wide.” The National Board of Review Magazine (January 1930) enthusiastically described it as “A super-sophisticated comedy” and stated that “The skillful direction and clever acting save the picture from vulgarity.”
Meanwhile The Educational Screen (Feb 1930) called Hot for Paris a “Broad, vulgar sex-comedy which will entertain all who are not disturbed by the question of good taste,” and rating it as “Hardly” for “intelligent adults.” Various newspapers reviewed the dialogue as “stag,” “masculine,” “obvious” and “stale.” Some reviewers preferredThe Cock-Eyed World, while others felt Hot for Paris was the superior film.
Meanwhile The Educational Screen (Feb 1930) called Hot for Paris a “Broad, vulgar sex-comedy which will entertain all who are not disturbed by the question of good taste,” and rating it as “Hardly” for “intelligent adults.” Various newspapers reviewed the dialogue as “stag,” “masculine,” “obvious” and “stale.” Some reviewers preferredThe Cock-Eyed World, while others felt Hot for Paris was the superior film.
Fifi D'Orsay in Picture Play (March 1930)
Fifi D’Orsay received universally good reviews. Described as a French bombshell, Fifi d’Orsay was actually Canadian born. She started out as a dancer in vaudeville and went on to appear in over forty films, usually playing a “French flirt.”
The press hyped up her “Frenchness" and sex appeal. The Film Daily (Jan 5, 1930) gushed
Those eyes! Can she use ‘em? Oh, boy. And those beautiful centrifugal movements of the waist line. She dances. She sings. She makes ooh-la-la. She’s a wow. A pip. Go see her and then write your own adjectives. We’ve exhausted ours.”
Motion Picture (Feb 1930) described her as “vivacious, sparkling… She is naughty without being vulgar, a talent sorely needed by the screen.” Screenland (March 1930) wrote “Her antics are so disarming that even grandmother will content herself with a gentle “Tut-tut!” The French are a great people!”
Picture Play Magazine (March 1930) ran a full-page feature article on D’Orsay, “Fifi’s Magic Touch.” The article was all about “Miss Dorsay’s [sic] wordless language” and her alluring “vamping ways.” William H. McKegg makes no apology for his entendre laden article and gushing infatuation with D’Orsay – “She flashed onto the screen with a mop of black hair, rolling eyes, and shapely legs…From that moment every member of the audience – at least evert male member – declared the Dorsay to be the real thing.”
According to d'Orsay's obituary in the New York Times, she never actually managed to visit France in person.
Picture Play Magazine (March 1930) ran a full-page feature article on D’Orsay, “Fifi’s Magic Touch.” The article was all about “Miss Dorsay’s [sic] wordless language” and her alluring “vamping ways.” William H. McKegg makes no apology for his entendre laden article and gushing infatuation with D’Orsay – “She flashed onto the screen with a mop of black hair, rolling eyes, and shapely legs…From that moment every member of the audience – at least evert male member – declared the Dorsay to be the real thing.”
According to d'Orsay's obituary in the New York Times, she never actually managed to visit France in person.
Victor McLaglen in Picture Play Magazine (June 1930)
Victor McLaglen was also generally liked, though several critics mentioned is less-than-adequate singing voice. Born in England, McLaglen was a real-life soldier who, according to his IMDb bio started out as a prizefighter, touring the vaudeville and circus circuits. He went on to become a popular action movie star, and was twice nominated for Best Actor Academy Award (once each for Best Leading Actor and Best Supporting Actor). He won Best Lead for The Informer in 1936. He appeared in over 100 films during a film career that spanned over forty years.
The rest of the cast failed to receive much mention. For the most part, the cast were silent film actors whose careers faded in the 1930s as their accents were not deemed suitable for talkies.
Hot for Paris contained just three songs. Variety was the only trade magazine to mention the music, stating that none of the songs were outstanding, and “Too light to be taken into serious consideration.” The score was written by Walter Donaldson and Edgar Leslie, both of whom went on to prominent careers.
Walter Donaldson was born into a musical family and worked in Tin Pan Alley. He went on to become a successful composer who worked for over thirty years. His hit songs include “How ‘Ya Gonna Keep ‘Em Down on the Farm (After They’ve Seen Paree),” “My Mammy,” “Carolina in the Morning,” My Blue Heaven,” and “Makin’ Whoopee”. His music was performed by Nina Simone, Dinah Washington, Al Jolson, Mel Torme and many more.
Edgar Leslie was a prolific composer who started out writing for vaudeville acts. His songs include “Lonesome,” “For Me and My Gal,” “Oh What a Pal was Mary,” “Is There Still Room for Me ‘Neath the Old Apple Tree.” Leslie was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1972.
The rest of the cast failed to receive much mention. For the most part, the cast were silent film actors whose careers faded in the 1930s as their accents were not deemed suitable for talkies.
Hot for Paris contained just three songs. Variety was the only trade magazine to mention the music, stating that none of the songs were outstanding, and “Too light to be taken into serious consideration.” The score was written by Walter Donaldson and Edgar Leslie, both of whom went on to prominent careers.
Walter Donaldson was born into a musical family and worked in Tin Pan Alley. He went on to become a successful composer who worked for over thirty years. His hit songs include “How ‘Ya Gonna Keep ‘Em Down on the Farm (After They’ve Seen Paree),” “My Mammy,” “Carolina in the Morning,” My Blue Heaven,” and “Makin’ Whoopee”. His music was performed by Nina Simone, Dinah Washington, Al Jolson, Mel Torme and many more.
Edgar Leslie was a prolific composer who started out writing for vaudeville acts. His songs include “Lonesome,” “For Me and My Gal,” “Oh What a Pal was Mary,” “Is There Still Room for Me ‘Neath the Old Apple Tree.” Leslie was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 1972.
Victor McLaglen, Fifi D’Orsay, and El Brendel in Motion Picture (Feb 1930)
Despite the mixed reviews, audiences flocked to see the film. Hot for Paris played in sold out houses around the country, and in some cities grossed even higher than The Cock-Eyed World which had been one of the top 10 grossing films of 1929.
A French language version was released in Montreal.
A French language version was released in Montreal.
- Published on
Director Mark Schweid (From the Museum of Family History)
An independent film featuring actors from the Yiddish Theatre.
Date of Release: Dec 10, 1929
Studio: Hollywood Pictures Corp
Director: Mark Schweid
Screenplay: S. Rodnow
Leading Actors: Mary Fowler (Darya), Arthur Albro (Alexis), Henrietta Tilghman (Olga), Mark Schweid (Zhuck), John Gould (Piotr), Betty Simonoff (Nadia, a gypsy), Misha Markoff (Foma), Paul Haakon (Tosha), Marsh Irvin (Borrah), Antony Andre (Deacon), Robert Norton (Bartender), Zachary Martinoff (Cossack), Ballalaika Orchestra, Imperial Cossack Choir, Ballalaika Orchestra
Wedding on the Volga was produced and released by Hollywood Pictures, a low-budget studio and distributor. Hollywood Pictures worked primarily with small-scale and independent producers, and was one of the first studios to distribute imported films in the United States.
Most of the cast and crew worked in the Yiddish Theatre in New York, and Wedding on the Volga was for the most part, their first and last feature film. According to archivist Margaret Compton, despite the ties to Yiddish theatre, the film was not centered around a Jewish wedding.
Director Mark Schweid, who also appeared in the film, was a prominent Polish-American actor, writer, and poet. He briefly served as the director of the Bronx Art Theatre, and also appeared in ten Broadway plays and five Hollywood films including East Side Sadie (1929) and Uncle Moses (1932). A collection of Schweid’s papers are held by the American Jewish Historical Society.
Actress Betty Simonoff was the daughter of celebrated actor Moshe Siminoff. Betty was interviewed about her life in 1986 for the Oral History William E. Wiener Library at the New York Public Library, and the transcript is available online.
A wonderful picture of Simonoff as a child can be found at the Museum of the City of New York.
Danish-born Paul Haakon was a prominent Broadway dancer. He appeared in several films and later worked for Warner Bros as a choreographer. The New York Times described Haakon as one of the “great male ballet dancers of the 20th century.”
The film had a limited release, and didn’t do particularly well at the box office. It was released in the UK in 1931 where it received tepid reviews.
Wedding on the Volga was considered lost until several reels were discovered in Georgia in 2015. Archivist Margaret Compton, writing for the Digital Yiddish Theatre Project, states that restoring the Wedding on the Volga would be useful in order to preserve Mark Schweid’s only film directing effort. It would be interesting to also see early footage of Paul Haakon.
Hopefully the sound reels can also be re-discovered. The score contained songs performed by a Cossack choir and Ballalaika Orchestra, providing a sound not usually heard in movie musicals at this time.
Perhaps one day we will hear the Russian wedding bells chime!
Studio: Hollywood Pictures Corp
Director: Mark Schweid
Screenplay: S. Rodnow
Leading Actors: Mary Fowler (Darya), Arthur Albro (Alexis), Henrietta Tilghman (Olga), Mark Schweid (Zhuck), John Gould (Piotr), Betty Simonoff (Nadia, a gypsy), Misha Markoff (Foma), Paul Haakon (Tosha), Marsh Irvin (Borrah), Antony Andre (Deacon), Robert Norton (Bartender), Zachary Martinoff (Cossack), Ballalaika Orchestra, Imperial Cossack Choir, Ballalaika Orchestra
Wedding on the Volga was produced and released by Hollywood Pictures, a low-budget studio and distributor. Hollywood Pictures worked primarily with small-scale and independent producers, and was one of the first studios to distribute imported films in the United States.
Most of the cast and crew worked in the Yiddish Theatre in New York, and Wedding on the Volga was for the most part, their first and last feature film. According to archivist Margaret Compton, despite the ties to Yiddish theatre, the film was not centered around a Jewish wedding.
Director Mark Schweid, who also appeared in the film, was a prominent Polish-American actor, writer, and poet. He briefly served as the director of the Bronx Art Theatre, and also appeared in ten Broadway plays and five Hollywood films including East Side Sadie (1929) and Uncle Moses (1932). A collection of Schweid’s papers are held by the American Jewish Historical Society.
Actress Betty Simonoff was the daughter of celebrated actor Moshe Siminoff. Betty was interviewed about her life in 1986 for the Oral History William E. Wiener Library at the New York Public Library, and the transcript is available online.
A wonderful picture of Simonoff as a child can be found at the Museum of the City of New York.
Danish-born Paul Haakon was a prominent Broadway dancer. He appeared in several films and later worked for Warner Bros as a choreographer. The New York Times described Haakon as one of the “great male ballet dancers of the 20th century.”
The film had a limited release, and didn’t do particularly well at the box office. It was released in the UK in 1931 where it received tepid reviews.
Wedding on the Volga was considered lost until several reels were discovered in Georgia in 2015. Archivist Margaret Compton, writing for the Digital Yiddish Theatre Project, states that restoring the Wedding on the Volga would be useful in order to preserve Mark Schweid’s only film directing effort. It would be interesting to also see early footage of Paul Haakon.
Hopefully the sound reels can also be re-discovered. The score contained songs performed by a Cossack choir and Ballalaika Orchestra, providing a sound not usually heard in movie musicals at this time.
Perhaps one day we will hear the Russian wedding bells chime!
- Published on
Nothing could help that picture."
Date of Release: Dec 9, 1929
Studio: Prudence Pictures, distributed by Sono Art
Director: Mark Sandrich
Screenplay: Mark Sandrich, Nat Carr, Darby Aaronson
Music: Al Piantadosi, Nat Carr, Jack Glogau
Leading Actors: Nat Carr (J. Pierpont Ginsburg), Fay Marbé (Adore Renée), Hope Sutherland (Ruth), Sherline Oliver (John Applegate), Edward Le Saint (Edward Hamilton), Gilbert Marbe (Reginald Whitlock), John Troughton (Butler), Al Goodman and His Orchestra, Leonidoff Ballet
At the end of the screening of “Is Love a Sin?”, the film within a film, a producer declares, “nothing could help that picture.” The same can be said for The Talk of Hollywood.
Resplendent with racism and sexism, a plodding script, and lackluster performances, The Talk of Hollywood is an abysmal film. Independently produced by Sam Zierler through Prudence Pictures, ironically formerly known as Excellent Pictures, the film was completed in May but not released until December. Perhaps they never should have released it.
The film opens with J. Pierpont Ginsburg (Nat Carr), a Jewish film producer, performing exercises to a jaunty Irish jig. Just as soon as it has begun, the comedy ends. We learn that Ginsburg is a twenty year film veteran, and he is attempting to make his first talkie. He has placed his entire savings on the project, the film is already over budget, and the star refuses to wake up before noon.
John Applegate (Sherline Oliver), Ginsberg’s lawyer, is doing everything he can to save Ginsberg’s fortune. He is also in love with, of course, Ginsberg’s sappy daughter Ruth (Hope Sutherland). Fearing she will leave her widowed father alone in the world, Ruth declines Applegate's proposal.
Thirty minutes into the The Talk of Hollywood we finally see our first musical number, “No, No, Baby.” The song is resplendent with French cliches, and along with "Goodnight in the Morning," does nothing to promote the talents of torch song singer Fay Marbé.
The ensemble, credited as the Leonidoff Ballet, are interesting to watch but their appearance is too brief. The Leonidoff Ballet may be dancers from Radio City Hall, where producer Leon Leonidoff was known for his extravagant and lavish dances. It's a shame his work is not evident here.
The dancing hints at a can-can, but the (uncredited) choreography is a poor imitation. The song and dance numbers are further undermined by poor lighting, and amateur filming.
At the eventual screening of Ginsberg’s talkie, the pacing picks up. The screening is a disaster. The drunk projectionist smashes a sound disc, which causes the sound and image to play out of sync. The humor of mismatched dialogue and image unfortunately relies on dated racist and sexist stereotypes, with a white woman saying the lines of an African American character - who is of course lamenting life in the cotton fields.
The invited audience of producers and distributors are unforgiving about the sound mishap, and declare “Is Love a Sin?” the worst talkie ever made. Ginsburg sits miserably, fearing he has lost everything.
At the last moment, a distributor calls to order "the comedy and five more just like it,” Ruth finally agrees to marry Applegate, and everyone is happy.
The Talk of Hollywood received scathing reviews, with Variety calling it "badder than bad." The critics derided the script, musical numbers, and performances, and even in 1929, considered the racism in bad taste.
Surprisingly, director Mark Sandrich went on to become a prominent musical film director, with films such as The Gay Divorcee (1934), Top Hat (1935), Shall We Dance (1937) and Holiday Inn (1942) to his name.
Only two cast members, Edward Le Saint and Nat Carr, continued to appear in films after 1929, though usually in small or uncredited roles.
The best thing that can be said about The Talk of Hollywood is that it is short, running just over an hour. If you feel like throwing away an hour of your life, the film is available to watch on YouTube.
Studio: Prudence Pictures, distributed by Sono Art
Director: Mark Sandrich
Screenplay: Mark Sandrich, Nat Carr, Darby Aaronson
Music: Al Piantadosi, Nat Carr, Jack Glogau
Leading Actors: Nat Carr (J. Pierpont Ginsburg), Fay Marbé (Adore Renée), Hope Sutherland (Ruth), Sherline Oliver (John Applegate), Edward Le Saint (Edward Hamilton), Gilbert Marbe (Reginald Whitlock), John Troughton (Butler), Al Goodman and His Orchestra, Leonidoff Ballet
At the end of the screening of “Is Love a Sin?”, the film within a film, a producer declares, “nothing could help that picture.” The same can be said for The Talk of Hollywood.
Resplendent with racism and sexism, a plodding script, and lackluster performances, The Talk of Hollywood is an abysmal film. Independently produced by Sam Zierler through Prudence Pictures, ironically formerly known as Excellent Pictures, the film was completed in May but not released until December. Perhaps they never should have released it.
The film opens with J. Pierpont Ginsburg (Nat Carr), a Jewish film producer, performing exercises to a jaunty Irish jig. Just as soon as it has begun, the comedy ends. We learn that Ginsburg is a twenty year film veteran, and he is attempting to make his first talkie. He has placed his entire savings on the project, the film is already over budget, and the star refuses to wake up before noon.
John Applegate (Sherline Oliver), Ginsberg’s lawyer, is doing everything he can to save Ginsberg’s fortune. He is also in love with, of course, Ginsberg’s sappy daughter Ruth (Hope Sutherland). Fearing she will leave her widowed father alone in the world, Ruth declines Applegate's proposal.
Thirty minutes into the The Talk of Hollywood we finally see our first musical number, “No, No, Baby.” The song is resplendent with French cliches, and along with "Goodnight in the Morning," does nothing to promote the talents of torch song singer Fay Marbé.
The ensemble, credited as the Leonidoff Ballet, are interesting to watch but their appearance is too brief. The Leonidoff Ballet may be dancers from Radio City Hall, where producer Leon Leonidoff was known for his extravagant and lavish dances. It's a shame his work is not evident here.
The dancing hints at a can-can, but the (uncredited) choreography is a poor imitation. The song and dance numbers are further undermined by poor lighting, and amateur filming.
At the eventual screening of Ginsberg’s talkie, the pacing picks up. The screening is a disaster. The drunk projectionist smashes a sound disc, which causes the sound and image to play out of sync. The humor of mismatched dialogue and image unfortunately relies on dated racist and sexist stereotypes, with a white woman saying the lines of an African American character - who is of course lamenting life in the cotton fields.
The invited audience of producers and distributors are unforgiving about the sound mishap, and declare “Is Love a Sin?” the worst talkie ever made. Ginsburg sits miserably, fearing he has lost everything.
At the last moment, a distributor calls to order "the comedy and five more just like it,” Ruth finally agrees to marry Applegate, and everyone is happy.
The Talk of Hollywood received scathing reviews, with Variety calling it "badder than bad." The critics derided the script, musical numbers, and performances, and even in 1929, considered the racism in bad taste.
Surprisingly, director Mark Sandrich went on to become a prominent musical film director, with films such as The Gay Divorcee (1934), Top Hat (1935), Shall We Dance (1937) and Holiday Inn (1942) to his name.
Only two cast members, Edward Le Saint and Nat Carr, continued to appear in films after 1929, though usually in small or uncredited roles.
The best thing that can be said about The Talk of Hollywood is that it is short, running just over an hour. If you feel like throwing away an hour of your life, the film is available to watch on YouTube.
- Published on
A glorious revue preceded by a terrible movie.
Motion Picture News (Dec 7. 1929)
Date of Release: Dec 7, 1929
Studio: Paramount
Director: Millard Webb
Screenplay: J. P. McEvoy, Millard Webb
Composers: Irving Berlin, Walter Donaldson, Larry Spier, Dave Stampner
Musical Director: Frank Tours
Choreographer: Ted Shawn and John W. Harkrider, Florenz Ziegfeld Jr.,
Leading Actors: Mary Eaton (Gloria Hughes), Eddie Cantor, Helen Morgan, Rudy Vallee,
Dan Healy (Miller), Kaye Renard ('Mooney'), Edward Crandall (Buddy), Gloria Shea (Barbara) (as Olive Shea), Sarah Edwards (Mrs. Hughes), Singing and Dancing Chorus of Seventy-Five Glorified Beauties
Glorifying the American Girl opens with a montage of women parading over a map of America. This is replaced by women sadly doing domestic chores and working, who morph into women in gorgeous costumes parading on a stage. These images are overlaid crowds of people walking, and cars going by. The incongruous images set the tone for a film riddled with clichés, a terrible script, and lavish revue scenes.
At the company picnic, we meet Gloria (Mary Eaton), Buddy (Edward Crandall) and their third wheel Barbara (Gloria Shea). Buddy is madly in love with Gloria, but she has dreams of being on the stage. Barbara is in love with Buddy, but is always left behind. Gloria dances for the crowd, and Miller (Dan Healy) asks her to be his partner in his act, “Miller and Mooney”. Gloria agrees and jumps on the next train.
At the theatre, Gloria is miserable. She misses Buddy, she’s sick of life on the road, the greasy food, and Miller’s unwanted advances. With encouragement from her pushy mother (Sarah Edwards), Gloria signs a contract with Miller agreeing to split everything they earn fifty/fifty. Of course, Gloria is unaware that an agent for Ziegfeld himself has taken interest, and in agreeing to the contract, her chances of stardom are jeopardized.
Miller and Mooney make their way to New York, where Gloria is happily reunited with Buddy. In the chaos at the train station, Barbara is left behind and hit by a truck. Realizing that Gloria is still focused on her stardom, Buddy returns miserably to his apartment. He learns of Barbara’s accident, and rushes to her side at the hospital where he promises to never leave her again.
Meanwhile, Gloria has finally landed the starring role in the Ziegfeld Follies. At her opening night, she is a triumph. The radiance of the night is dimmed when she receives a telegram from Buddy informing her that he and Barbara have married. Gloria realizes she has sacrificed love to be a star, and the curtain closes.
Studio: Paramount
Director: Millard Webb
Screenplay: J. P. McEvoy, Millard Webb
Composers: Irving Berlin, Walter Donaldson, Larry Spier, Dave Stampner
Musical Director: Frank Tours
Choreographer: Ted Shawn and John W. Harkrider, Florenz Ziegfeld Jr.,
Leading Actors: Mary Eaton (Gloria Hughes), Eddie Cantor, Helen Morgan, Rudy Vallee,
Dan Healy (Miller), Kaye Renard ('Mooney'), Edward Crandall (Buddy), Gloria Shea (Barbara) (as Olive Shea), Sarah Edwards (Mrs. Hughes), Singing and Dancing Chorus of Seventy-Five Glorified Beauties
Glorifying the American Girl opens with a montage of women parading over a map of America. This is replaced by women sadly doing domestic chores and working, who morph into women in gorgeous costumes parading on a stage. These images are overlaid crowds of people walking, and cars going by. The incongruous images set the tone for a film riddled with clichés, a terrible script, and lavish revue scenes.
At the company picnic, we meet Gloria (Mary Eaton), Buddy (Edward Crandall) and their third wheel Barbara (Gloria Shea). Buddy is madly in love with Gloria, but she has dreams of being on the stage. Barbara is in love with Buddy, but is always left behind. Gloria dances for the crowd, and Miller (Dan Healy) asks her to be his partner in his act, “Miller and Mooney”. Gloria agrees and jumps on the next train.
At the theatre, Gloria is miserable. She misses Buddy, she’s sick of life on the road, the greasy food, and Miller’s unwanted advances. With encouragement from her pushy mother (Sarah Edwards), Gloria signs a contract with Miller agreeing to split everything they earn fifty/fifty. Of course, Gloria is unaware that an agent for Ziegfeld himself has taken interest, and in agreeing to the contract, her chances of stardom are jeopardized.
Miller and Mooney make their way to New York, where Gloria is happily reunited with Buddy. In the chaos at the train station, Barbara is left behind and hit by a truck. Realizing that Gloria is still focused on her stardom, Buddy returns miserably to his apartment. He learns of Barbara’s accident, and rushes to her side at the hospital where he promises to never leave her again.
Meanwhile, Gloria has finally landed the starring role in the Ziegfeld Follies. At her opening night, she is a triumph. The radiance of the night is dimmed when she receives a telegram from Buddy informing her that he and Barbara have married. Gloria realizes she has sacrificed love to be a star, and the curtain closes.
From L-R: Mary Eaton, Edward Crandall, and Gloria Shea. Still from Picture Play Magazine (Jan 1930)
The critics found Glorifying the American Girl to be sloppy and tedious. They hated the quick transitions between color and black and white, dismissed the music as boring or old, and lampooned the cast as “amateurish”.
Watching the copy available on YouTube (presented without the color sequences), I generally tend to agree. The script is trite, with one cliché after another – complete with a love song in a row boat, a car accident that leaves the victim in hospital with her head wrapped in white gauze, and a talented store clerk who dreams of nothing but stardom.
A few performances stand out from the drudgery. Mary Eaton gives a solid performance as Gloria, and her dancing throughout the film is wonderful. A real-life Follies girl, Eaton was was one of seven siblings in show business.
The dancing was choreographed by Ted Shawn, a highly influential and respected dancer and choreographer who founded Jacob's Pillow. He appeared in a few early films including Dances of the Ages (1913) and Intolerance: Love’s Struggle Throughout the Ages (1916), though the vast majority of his work was on the stage. A wonderful biography can be found at Jacob’s Pillow.
When we first meet Sarah Edwards, playing Gloria’s mother Mrs. Hughes, she has a great comedic moment playing with her faulty reading glasses. Even with the scandalous exclamation of “dammit!” the shtick grows old when it repeats itself several times throughout the film. Born in Wales, Edwards became known for playing motherly type roles.
Gloria Shea, who at this time was appearing under the name Olive Shea, is delightful as Barbara. We barely hear her speak until her delirious calls for Buddy from her hospital bed, but her facial expressions do much to convey the desire of the oft-ignored Barbara. Shea appeared in over forty films including The Night Mayor (1932), Women Won’t Tell (1932), Dance, Girl, Dance (1933), and The Last Days of Pompeii (1935). A car accident reportedly shortened her career, though she lived until she was 85.
Edward Crandall is forgettable as Buddy, but Dan Healy plays an excellent womanizing villain. His awful nature is furthered when he cheats two African American porters out of their tip by tossing a coin and claiming “Alright boys, double or nothing for your tip. Looks like it’s nothing.” Crandall and Healy both found more work on Broadway than in Hollywood.
Watching the copy available on YouTube (presented without the color sequences), I generally tend to agree. The script is trite, with one cliché after another – complete with a love song in a row boat, a car accident that leaves the victim in hospital with her head wrapped in white gauze, and a talented store clerk who dreams of nothing but stardom.
A few performances stand out from the drudgery. Mary Eaton gives a solid performance as Gloria, and her dancing throughout the film is wonderful. A real-life Follies girl, Eaton was was one of seven siblings in show business.
The dancing was choreographed by Ted Shawn, a highly influential and respected dancer and choreographer who founded Jacob's Pillow. He appeared in a few early films including Dances of the Ages (1913) and Intolerance: Love’s Struggle Throughout the Ages (1916), though the vast majority of his work was on the stage. A wonderful biography can be found at Jacob’s Pillow.
When we first meet Sarah Edwards, playing Gloria’s mother Mrs. Hughes, she has a great comedic moment playing with her faulty reading glasses. Even with the scandalous exclamation of “dammit!” the shtick grows old when it repeats itself several times throughout the film. Born in Wales, Edwards became known for playing motherly type roles.
Gloria Shea, who at this time was appearing under the name Olive Shea, is delightful as Barbara. We barely hear her speak until her delirious calls for Buddy from her hospital bed, but her facial expressions do much to convey the desire of the oft-ignored Barbara. Shea appeared in over forty films including The Night Mayor (1932), Women Won’t Tell (1932), Dance, Girl, Dance (1933), and The Last Days of Pompeii (1935). A car accident reportedly shortened her career, though she lived until she was 85.
Edward Crandall is forgettable as Buddy, but Dan Healy plays an excellent womanizing villain. His awful nature is furthered when he cheats two African American porters out of their tip by tossing a coin and claiming “Alright boys, double or nothing for your tip. Looks like it’s nothing.” Crandall and Healy both found more work on Broadway than in Hollywood.
The highlight of the film is the Ziegfeld Revue, “Glorifying the American Girl.” Outside the theatre, real-life radio host Norman Brokenshire announces the arriving celebrities, including cameo appearances from Flo Ziegfeld and his wife Billie Burke (famed Broadway actress who is perhaps best remembered as Glinda in The Wizard of Oz), and the President of Paramount Studios, Adolph Zukor.
Clever edits between shots of the program, the audience, and the stage help to create the illusion of being at the theatre.
The footage of the revue numbers is so different to the rest of the film, I wonder if it wasn’t filmed at the theatre itself, though film historian Edwin M. Bradley states the revue was filmed “on a massive replica of the New Amsterdam Theatre”. The numbers without Mary Eaton are filmed in long shorts, giving us a view of the whole stage and proscenium arch. When the camera zooms in for tighter shots, it pans awkwardly along the stage. The first scene, a Garden of Eden tableau, does read better in color (also available on YouTube), with the pre-Code near-nudity and beautiful bodies clearly on display, though this doesn't account for the unimaginative shots.
In contrast, the numbers featuring Mary Eaton, an art-nouveau “Swan Lake” ballet, and “There Must Be Somebody Waiting for Me in Loveland,” are beautifully filmed, and it’s a pity the Technicolor footage is not publicly available. There are a variety of camera angles, including a great shot from the top of the proscenium looking down on the stage, and snappy edits that show off Eaton’s wonderful dancing, and the stunning Follies revue costumes.
Three extra scenes featuring Eddie Cantor, Rudy Valley (still no more likeable than his appearance in his film of the same name), and Helen Morgan, are also filmed differently from the rest of the film. Eddie Cantor’s tailor shop sketch, also featuring Louis Sorin (Mother's Boy and Lucky in Love) was hailed by several critics claimed as the saving grace of the film, and still holds up today. According to Bradley, these literal inserts were taken from shorts filmed by Robert Florey to try and boost publicity for the film.
Big names and publicity, which included tie-ins with local jewelry stores and beauty parlors, could not save the film. Glorifying the American Girl opened to scathing reviews, and played to mediocre houses. Mary Eaton did not find any more roles available to her, and she eventually became an alcoholic. She died from severe cirrhosis in her mid-forties.
Glorifying the American Girl is available to watch on YouTube. Skip to the last thirty minutes for the glorious revue.
Clever edits between shots of the program, the audience, and the stage help to create the illusion of being at the theatre.
The footage of the revue numbers is so different to the rest of the film, I wonder if it wasn’t filmed at the theatre itself, though film historian Edwin M. Bradley states the revue was filmed “on a massive replica of the New Amsterdam Theatre”. The numbers without Mary Eaton are filmed in long shorts, giving us a view of the whole stage and proscenium arch. When the camera zooms in for tighter shots, it pans awkwardly along the stage. The first scene, a Garden of Eden tableau, does read better in color (also available on YouTube), with the pre-Code near-nudity and beautiful bodies clearly on display, though this doesn't account for the unimaginative shots.
In contrast, the numbers featuring Mary Eaton, an art-nouveau “Swan Lake” ballet, and “There Must Be Somebody Waiting for Me in Loveland,” are beautifully filmed, and it’s a pity the Technicolor footage is not publicly available. There are a variety of camera angles, including a great shot from the top of the proscenium looking down on the stage, and snappy edits that show off Eaton’s wonderful dancing, and the stunning Follies revue costumes.
Three extra scenes featuring Eddie Cantor, Rudy Valley (still no more likeable than his appearance in his film of the same name), and Helen Morgan, are also filmed differently from the rest of the film. Eddie Cantor’s tailor shop sketch, also featuring Louis Sorin (Mother's Boy and Lucky in Love) was hailed by several critics claimed as the saving grace of the film, and still holds up today. According to Bradley, these literal inserts were taken from shorts filmed by Robert Florey to try and boost publicity for the film.
Big names and publicity, which included tie-ins with local jewelry stores and beauty parlors, could not save the film. Glorifying the American Girl opened to scathing reviews, and played to mediocre houses. Mary Eaton did not find any more roles available to her, and she eventually became an alcoholic. She died from severe cirrhosis in her mid-forties.
Glorifying the American Girl is available to watch on YouTube. Skip to the last thirty minutes for the glorious revue.