29 March 2009

"Among Sinister Shadows"

In March of 1929, Paramount sought to entice newspaper readers into theaters with the following prepared review of William Wellman's "Chinatown Nights" ---

"There is more mystery on one Chinese standing in a shadowy Chinatown doorway than in all the mystery stories ever written. And in 'Chinatown Nights,' showing at the _______ there are more than five hundred Chinese revealed in all the intriguing and little known business of their powerful tongs."

"'Chinatown Nights' is a picture for everyone who loves drama, excitement and mystery. The suspense and action of the picture are excellently handled and the revelation of the inscrutable practices of the Chinese tong are surprising. A superior cast of screen artists enact this superb drama. Wallace Beery, Florence Vidor, Warner Oland and Jack Oakie head the cast of noted screen players. The picture was directed by William Wellman, the man who made 'Wings.'"

"'Chinatown Nights' is the story of a white boss of Chinatown who wins the love of a white society woman. She sacrifices everything for him, but not until she is dragged down into the mire of the underworld, does she awaken to his love for her."

"The Whole Cast Talks!" declared period print ads for the film, and according to one genuine newspaper review of the film in late March of 1929, that fact was, in of itself, a problem:

"'Chinatown Nights' is one of those talking pictures which would have been just as good, if not better, with sound effects only and the old style sub-titles. Wallace Beery and Florence Vidor are the stars in this Chinatown opus, but you go away feeling that Warner Oland, cast as 'Boston Charley,' makes the picture. "

"In this Gallery God's humble opinion, both Beery and Miss Vidor are miscast in a big way. Beery is the white boss of Chinatown, a part which he fills well, but you hardly can see the refined background which he is supposed to have. Miss Vidor makes a very good society woman, but as a drunken creature she wins no sympathy. And, what the sound box does to Miss Vidor's voice, is nobody's business.'"

"The plot deals with the society woman who falls in love with the white boss of a Chinese tong and tries to get him to quit it all and go her way. There is a war, with no small amount of shooting and killing. Some of the sound effects are excellent. In a Chinese theater scene, to cover the bark of guns, one tong throws firecrackers into the air and the staccato is splendidly recorded. There are some interesting scenes of Chinatown and a few inner workings of the tong are exposed."

Happily, while with us today, and an inarguable important entry in early talking film history, William Wellman's "Chinatown Nights" is difficult to fairly judge and nearly impossible to encounter in any form other than horribly bad dupes that, seemingly, first surfaced on Betamax tape ---the stunning photography reduced to wavering blotches of white and gray, and the busy soundtrack, once "splendidly recorded" now a shrill cacophony.

Despite the William Wellman branding, which raises weak hopes that the film may one day surface on DVD simply based on its lineage (early sound films can never seem to receive recognition based solely upon their place in cinema history --- only owing to either who directed them or who appears in them, inexplicably perhaps the only genre of film treated in this odd way) but then too, there is no getting away from the stereotypes that decorate the film (I'll leave it to someone else to use the word "plague") and all the baggage that goes with it. Understandably, "Chinatown Nights" may well long remain lurking in the darkened corners of film history, amidst sinister shadows of quite another sort.


Syndicated publicity item, April 1929:


"To celebrate the completion of 'Chinatown Nights,' the all-talking picture in which he was featured with Florence Vidor, actor Wallace Beery gave a little party at his home. The director, William Wellman, the staff workers, and the cast, including Warner Oland, Jack Oakie and all the others, were invited."


"As they came in, Beery told each that he had arranged with a prominent radio station to broadcast his party, commenting on the arrival of each guest, etc. As they entered, Beery phoned a certain number and almost immediately from the radio loudspeaker came laudatory words of welcome. The guests thought it very fine and complimented Beery on the stunt."


"William Wellman was one of the last to arrive. As he entered the door of the house, the radio spoke words to this effect: 'Here is Billy Wellman, the slave-driving director who beats his wife, sticks pins in his children and tortures his actors. He should be in jail and probably will be soon.'"



"After Wellman had recovered from the shock, and the guests from their hysteria, Beery revealed that the radio was a private affair and that the 'announcer' was George Bancroft, out in the garage."

We pause for melody! Who, of a certain age, won't recognize Paul Whiteman's 1928 recording of "Dancing Shadows" as serving as incidental scoring on what seemed like countless dozens of silent films in the earliest years of home video marketing? Infinitely more interesting than most of the films it accompanied at that time, hearing it again is not unlike greeting an old friend who, maddeningly, never seems to age.

"Dancing Shadows" (1928)



Mr. Ian McIver, who maintains the astounding "Virtual Radiogram" website based in the United Kingdom -- a mecca for theater organ enthusiasts, historians and all else in between -- and a reader of these pages, kindly sent along two of his favorite recordings by Regal Cinema organist Sydney Torch. The first, "When East Meets West" (a medley recorded in 1935 at the Regal Cinema, Edmonton) fits nicely with our nod towards "Chinatown Nights." The second, "Hotter than Ever," (recorded in 1934 at the Regal Cinema, Marble Arch) is sheer, shimmering cinema organ pleasure.

"When East Meets West" (1935)

"Hotter Than Ever" (1934)


Mr. McIver's website (link in above paragraph) is a multi-layered treasure of information (Jesse Crawford fans will be especially delighted!) of cinema organ history in the States, the United Kingdom, Australia and other locales --- accompanied by heaps of graphics and, best of all, a myriad of audio files. Be prepared to spend many a happy hour exploring! Many thanks to Mr. McIver for sharing with us!

Summer, 1929:

"The rhythmic tapping of the feet of 50 dancing girls - the wailing of saxophones and the high notes of an opera tenor in a theatrical boarding house - the bark of gangster's guns and the quiet 'raise you five grand' in a poker game are said to be some of the high spots in the First National Vitaphone picture 'Broadway Babies.'"

"'Broadway Babies' takes you behind the scenes in a big musical comedy theater, into night clubs of Broadway, and into the theatrical boarding house. It is a story of theatrical life, the experiences of three young hoofers who are fighting for recognition behind the footlights. Dazzling sets, particularly the theatrical scenes and those in the night clubs, promise to be exceptional."

So declared studio publicity releases farmed out to newspaper syndicates in mid 1929, and for once, the claims were valid --- and remain valid in 2009.

Is there a more charmingly cluttered (both visually and aurally) early talking film than "Broadway Babies?" Despite the abundance of optical and audio excess --- or because of it, "Broadway Babies" could easily (and should!) be called upon to serve as the leading surviving example of what talking cinema was like at that point in time --- when the part-talking hybrids had largely given up the ghost, and Hollywood had resolved to embrace and enhance the new medium. Best of all, by today's standards, "Broadway Babies" doesn't dull the senses -- it excites them.

The overly-decorated sets give the eye something to settle upon at every viewing (once one has had enough time to digest Alice White's limited repertoire of acting modes) and the soundtrack, bless it --- is a technical masterpiece of the period. Long before the term "multi-track" had even been a fanciful notion, "Broadway Babies" layers dialogue, incidental sound effects and a nearly start-to-finish astonishingly intricate background musical score into a practically seamless, unified whole.

"Broadway Babies" served as the opening talking picture attraction at the newly wired-for-sound Lantex Theater (Llano, Texas) in late 1929, and the arrival of talkies themselves was deemed of enough importance to warrant a special newspaper pull-out "Talkie Section" as well. Perhaps in the days leading up to the re-opening of the theater, citizens heard this special Victor exploitation recording being played outside the theater or in local record and phonograph shops?:

"Broadway Babies" (1929)



The following publicity placement for the now presumed-lost 1930 film "She Couldn't Say No" was heralded as being written by the film's star, Winnie Lightner, herself. While doubtful at best, the piece does serve to give us an idea of the filmed that can't easily be gleaned otherwise:

"While I was playing the leading role in 'She Couldn't Say No,' I realized for the first time what a heartbreaking experience it is for a woman to love a man who does not love her. I studied the part so thoroughly that I am sure I gained a complete understanding of the character. Of course, it would not do for me to say that I play it convincingly, but when you see 'She Couldn't Say No,' I hope you will enjoy my performance. I sure did my best to entertain you."

"In the story I am Winnie Harper, a big-hearted night club entertainer, who falls madly in love with Jerry, a racketeer, and then almost breaks her neck reforming him - which is always a silly thing for a woman to do. But then, Winnie loved the way she did everything else. With all her heart and soul."


"She succeeds in keeping him on the straight and narrow path for a long time by employing him as her manager. Inspired by the love she lavishes on him, she goes on to bigger and better things until she lands a job as the prize attraction at the swellest night club in town. With Jerry drawing 10% of her salary things go along smoothly and Winnie begins to think that her luck has changed and that she and Jerry are going to live happily ever after."

"Blinded by her own love, she refuses to see that Jerry's indifference is due to the fact that he does not love her. And then the dreadful blow! Winnie discovers that Jerry has fallen in love with a society girl who is attracted to him because he is so different from the men she has been acquainted with all her life. To keep up with her crowd he joins the 'gang' in a job, is arrested and sent to jail."

"Winnie still fights for the man and just when she thinks she is winning, the society girl steps into the picture again. Believe me, this poor girl certainly has her heartbreaking moments. When you see the picture you will sympathize with her just as I did. Of course, Jerry eventually comes to his sense but - well, it's too late. In watching the misfortunes of Winnie you, too, are going to understand what a tragic thing it is for a woman to love in vain."

Clearly, today's film trailers which painstakingly spell out each plot twist and treat you to every notable scene, visual element or clever line of dialogue, can trace their lineage back to this sort of counter-productive publicity placement! Sadly, at this stage in the game, it is unlikely we'll ever have the chance to see for ourselves --- but, stranger things have indeed happened.

As performed by vocalist Welcome Lewis, these two covers of melodies from "She Couldn't Say No" are pleasant enough, but nobody could belt 'em out like Winnie, so --- lacking Vitaphone disc audio in absence of the film itself, we must content ourselves.

"Watching My Dreams Go By" and "A Darn Fool Woman Like Me" (1930) Welcome Lewis

Melody that arrived between the end of the Great War and the dawn of the 1920's is as unique, to my way of thinking, as it is difficult to describe. There's a palpable sense of release and relief in this music, as we moved away from the terrible struggles and senseless death that permeated the War, and began to find a new place and sense of self in the weak first light of the new decade. Teetering and wavering between the old and the new, tentatively dipping into new forms of musical expression, these tunes capture a moment in time and history when all seemed possible, once having survived what was once deemed impossible.

"Darling" (1919)
"Rose Room" (1920)
Art Hickman & His Orchestra (Above)



"Make Believe" (1921)

Nora Bayes (Above)

"Oh By Jingo" (1919)
as performed by:

Margaret Young (1920) and Frank Crumit (1920)
(Imagine what Charlotte Greenwood did with this song!)

"Girl of My Dreams" (1929)
"I'm Waiting for Ships That Never Come In"
Performed by Maurice Gunsky (above)

Has anyone any information about this rather interesting vocalist?


Medley from "Whoopee!" (1930)
Medley from "Monte Carlo" (1930)
Performed with Orchestra by Pianist Raye de Costa

Medley from "The Love Parade" (1929)
Jack Payne & His BBC Orchestra

"Why Be Good?" (1929)
Vitaphone Disc Excerpt
A quiet, lilting melody in a sea of swirling jazz --- can anyone identify it?

"Nola" (1927) The Revelers
"Hello Bluebird" (1926) Vincent Lopez & His Orchestra
"High, High, High Up in the Hills" (1927) Nat Shilkret & the Victor Orchestra

Excerpt from "Jack White & His Montrealers"
(Vitaphone Short Subject # 791)
"I'm Ka-Razy For You" ("Say It With Songs") - Ruth Petty
"Mean to Me" - The Lee Sisters

Medley - "The Gold Diggers of Broadway" (1929)

Wishing all Readers a Happy, Safe and --- Let's Hope --- PROSPEROUS Spring Season!

###

20 December 2008

A Yuletide Frolic III - "Cheer Up and Smile!"

Happy Holidays! For this third annual Yuletide Frolic edition of "Vitaphone Varieties," we'll acknowledge the disconcerting notion that the less romantic and fanciful aspects of the late 20's and early 30's might be closer to us than we suspect by entirely ignoring that fact and simply having fun with this post!

While postmen today don't seem to carry parcels any longer --- or smile much either for that matter, one can't help but wonder at the contents of some of those neatly wrapped parcels he cheerfully lugs up this snowy residential city street --- here forever caught in a mid-delivery time warp of the sort that most of us still experience today every now and then.

To accompany him on his appointed route, let's pipe in Eddie Cantor's (timely!) 1931 recording of "Cheer Up! Smile! Nertz!"

"Cheer Up! Smile! Nertz!" (1931)




Although this second image was taken on the same stretch of street, we have another smiling postman here --- and a grateful recipient as well. To continue and cap this little introductory "Cheer Up" motif, we've coaxed the fragile Noel Francis out of the dark and distant old posts from these pages to warble "Cheer Up and Smile" from the preserved but elusive "New Movietone Follies of 1930." Miss Francis? Ah, here she is... Yes, this way... Take your time.... Deep breath now... Ready? Ladies and Gentlemen, Miss Noel Francis:

"Cheer Up and Smile!" (1930)

The sadly absent mid-1929 Universal talkie "College Love" (an eight reel elaboration upon the studio's long running and successful "Collegians" series of two-reelers) is described thusly and adequately by the AFI catalog:

"At Caldwell College, Flash Thomas (Eddie Phillips,) captain of the football team, is in love with Dorothy May (Dorothy Gulliver,) who is infatuated with Bob Wilson (George Lewis,) without whose help Thomas would not be such an outstanding player. Broken hearted, Thomas tries to laugh it off, then against the rules accepts an invitation to a roadhouse party. Wilson, discovering he is missing, hides in Thomas' bed to fool the coach (Hayden Stevinson,) then tries to persuade him to leave the party. When they return, however, the coach discovers the ruse and puts Wilson, who shields Thomas, out of the game. Dorothy asks for an explanation and, receiving none, returns Thomas' fraternity pin. At the last minute, Wilson is rushed into the game and Thomas plays to redeem himself. Wilson scores a touchdown, is proclaimed a hero, and wins the love of Dorothy."

A Charleston, West Virginia newspaper review from late July of 1929 brings us a bit closer to a film we'll likely never otherwise experience:

"Those who have seen the cast of promising young screen players in the series of short college stories entitled 'The Collegians,' are due for a surprise in their first feature production, 'College Love,' showing at the Virginia Theater."

"It is difficult to identify the improvement, but that improvement is very obvious. Perhaps the addition of sound is responsible, but more like, one observes, it's the scenario. 'College Love' gets away from the Horatio Alger type of story and therein, one suspects, lies its success."

"There is an abundance of action in this picture - action on the gridiron, on the campus, and action in romance and comedy. The musical score greatly enhances the story - there are some very tuneful selections. The dialogue is on par with many of the motion pictures which stars with years of learning appear."

"'College Love' is a swiftly-moving story of life in one of the large institutions of learning - although the 'learning' feature is entirely ignored. The action hinges upon a football game and the male leads are taken by members of the squad."

"Brought into the plot is the 'darling of the campus' and the rivalry between the two heroes of the gridiron for her attention. Excellent scenes of a football game before thousands of fans are shown. They are so realistic that one could easily imagine they were being shown from a news reel."

"Dorothy Gulliver takes the part of the campus favorite. The rivals are George Lewis and Eddie Phillips. Other who have taken parts in the 'Collegians' series add considerably to this picture. It is, without exaggeration, the best picture portraying college life that has been produced in sound."

While I couldn't dredge up recordings of the two original tunes featured in "College Love" ("It's You" and "Oh, How We Love Our College,") we have an entertaining 1927 recording that takes the accepted tradition of casting college pictures with performers for whom college youth is a distant and faded memory to a level of high parody. The vocal is by our old friend, Billy Murray, joined here with dialect comedian, Monroe Silver.

"Oh, How We Love Our Alma Mater" (1927)


Before moving along to our next feature item, a selection of melodies ---

From a long list entitled "Lost Films That We're Not So Sure We'd Go Out of Our Way to See if They Weren't," comes this pairing of beautifully performed tunes from Metro's 1930 "The Rogue Song," as interpreted by Nat Shilkret & the Victor Orchestra:

"The Rogue Song" and "When I'm Looking At You"

Resurrecting a tune from time dimmed pages of this blog --- if only for the fact that it well deserves another brief fling at fame --- is "Blue Baby," a 1928 melody that all but soars upwards and away every time I hear it --- which isn't often enough. The music is by Roy Leonard & His Orchestra (that swirling jazz violin knocks me out every time!) and the vocal is by Irving Kaufman --- who is nothing short of perfect here.

"Blue Baby" (1928)

With each passing year, Fox's 1929 landmark musical "Sunny Side Up" seems to never quite catch the DVD release train --- bravely grasping for the brass ring, but never quite making it into boxed sets where its inclusion might not be precisely logical but neither unwelcome either, as an extra or supplement. Hope still exists that Fox might gather up "Just Imagine," "New Movietone Follies of 1930," "Happy Days," "Hearts in Dixie" and "Sunny Side Up" for a diverse and important collection of the studio's early sound product --- but, alas and alack! -- none of these films can boast any pedigree (an element apparently vitally critical to Fox when pondering what to do next) other than that they were all wildly popular and successful with audiences of the day.

Here's a gem of a review of "Sunny Side Up" but Wood Soanes, from September of 1929:

"'Sunny Side Up' isn't the best title in the world for a picture - it sounds as if the film were an epic of the hash house - but 'Sunny Side Up' is one of the best pictures of the year and another ten-strike for Janet Gaynor and Charles Farrell. It doesn't require the gifts of a prophet to foresee the box office interest that will be aroused in this new Fox release, previewed at the Grand Lake last evening, for it affords Miss Gaynor the best chance she has had since 'Seventh Heaven.' It provides us with some new screen faces if importance, it has a bevy of corking tunes, it possesses some elaborate scenic contrivances, and most of all - it has laughs."

"As a matter of record, the Grand Lake audience hasn't laughed more at six romantic comedies. And for these guffaws, you may thank the memory of the gag man who exhumed comedy situations from all ears; and the skill of El Brendel, Marjorie White and Frank Richardson - particularly Miss White, because she had to make most of her own comedy."

"It may seem a little odd to have such a profusion of diaphragm laughter in the story that is merely a revision of the Cinderella tale in which a winsome East Side girl dreams of a Prince Charming and has him come to life almost at once: a story in which Cinderella is transported into the 400, is ousted by mistake and then gets back with flying colors and her man. That tale surely, is not new to screen audiences."

"But, the telling of it was another story. David Butler unfolds his first sequences in the East Side tenement where Miss Gaynor lives and is beloved by Brendel, the delicatessen merchant. Her pals are Frank Richardson, a song plugger with a flair for musical theft that is inordinate, and Miss White who is just one of those little jazz babes with a delicious sense of humor and an aptitude for nut comedy."


"The merit of 'Sunny Side Up' as may easily be discovered from this synopsis is not in the story, nor, you may be informed, is it in the work done by Farrell who, is pretty to look at but has one of those baby voices that go with the vo-de-do boys in the male quartets. It is the ensemble effect, the blending of rich comedy with acceptable pathos, and the singing of such tunes as 'If I Had a Talking Picture of You.' "

"Sunny Side Up" ran two hours and seven minutes last evening and will, of consequence, be edited. Perhaps in the thirty minutes of material that is dropped we will lose the symphony orchestra effect when Miss Gaynor plays the zither - no fooling - in the privacy of her boudoir; some of the more obvious of the cheap jokes; a couple of the burlesque scenes into which vulgarity crept; the children's part in the 'Talking Picture' chorus and some of the painted back drops."


"Of all things that should be retained at all cost are the 'daisy specialty' of Miss White and Richrdson, and the beautiful Arctic-to-Tropic transformation scene. This last was one of the most unique presentations to be put on the screen and while it is a little too long, it is sufficiently unique to stand. One looks for effects of this kind in the 'revue' pictures, but doesn't find it. Then, it shows up in a 'Sunny Side Up.'"

Let's hope the film again "shows up" again in a form that restores at least some of its once former glory --- and rescues it from the black market where it now unhappily resides in tattered and senseless near-oblivion.

"If I Had a Talking Picture of You"
(1929) Johnny Marvin

"You've Got Me Picking Petals..."
(1929) The High Hatters

"Turn on the Heat"
(1929) The Collegiate Jazzers
Vocal by (who else?) Irving Kaufman

Medley from "Sunny Side Up"
(1929) Al Benny's Broadway Boys

Selections from "Sunny Side Up"
(1929) The Rhythm Maniacs
Side One - Side Two


Our next item of interest is courtesy of Doug Gerbino, a loyal reader and friend of these pages:

Accompanying most initial screenings of Warner Brothers' 1927 Vitaphone success "The Better 'Ole" --- a broad comedy of the Great War that starred Syd Chaplin as "Old Bill," a character created by Bruce Bairnsfather --- was none other than Mr. Bairnsfather himself, via a Vitaphone short subject.

Providing a clever introduction to both the character of "Old Bill" and the feature film itself, this simply produced short subject presented Mr. Bairnsfather before the drawing easel, where he replicated his famous character while telling of how it came to be created. But --- to paraphrase John Miljan --- why tell you about it when I cannot let you see it, but hear it? Here then --- and again, thanks to Doug, is Bruce Bairnsfather (portrait, below left) via the Vitaphone.

Bruce Bairnsfather (1927) Vitaphone Short Subject #393

Note: The disc has a VERY rough start but ultimately clears up --- somewhat. The other-wordly squeals and groans of this ravaged disc serve as a sad reminder of just how fragile the relics of our past are.

While Vitaphone discs are sturdy souls, and tenacious survivors as well, radio transcription discs of the late 20's and early 30's seeming had an unspoken suicide pact, given the low numbers in which they exist today. That said, it's a pleasure to offer two that were given the will to live and are with us today --- and in fine shape too!

From 1933, NBC's "The A&P Gypsies" (with tenor Frank Parker, under the direction of Harry Horlick) dish up some elegantly arranged melodies of the day -- as well as some mid-brow salon-pop compositions and foreign novelties: "It's Just a Memory," "Butterflies in the Rain," Sigmund Romberg's "Road to Paradise," "Love Songs of the Nile," "Characteristic Russian Melodies," "Let's Have Another Cup of Coffee," "Strike Me Pink," Selections from Victor Herbert's "Natoma," "Stardust," and "Dardanella."

The A&P Gypsies (NBC - 1933)

The real surprise here was just how elaborate this "canned" radio show was in terms of production and care of recording. If you can arrange for your next dinner party to run no more than 36 minutes, this is what you need playing in the background!

"Blossom Time" (1931)

"Blossom Time" (1931) was a short-lived (perhaps even one-shot) syndicated musical offering sponsored by local "Say It With Flowers" florists --- and as such, the focus was one tunes with floral themes or titles. No shortage there, I suppose --- just not tunes that people wanted to hear time and again. Heard here: "I'm Bringing A Red, Red Rose," "Where the Shy Little Violets Grow," "In My Bouquet of Memories," etc., etc. Listeners were urged to bring the whole family to their local florist, where the "Fall Flower Festival" was going on at full speed, with something for everyone! - "Come see the flowers - spend happy hours."

The text portion of this post concludes here --- but a good deal still awaits your eyes and ears ahead! We'll be back shortly after the New Year arrives --- and here's a sincere wish to each and every one of you for a Happy Holiday and a bright, healthy and prosperous 2009!!!!!!!!!




Thank-You!
"You're Wonderful!"
(1928 - Nat Shilkret & the Victor Orchestra)


"Christmas Melodies" (1928)
Paul Whiteman & His Orchestra

"Jingle Bells" and "Silent Night" (1931)
Advertisement for the Junior Home Magazine
Phil Spitalny & His Orchestra

"My Silver Tree" (1928)
The Broadway Nitelites

"Jingle Bells" (1925)
The Revelers

"Singing in the Bathtub" (1929)
From "Show of Shows"
Fred Meles' Symphonic Jazz Orchestra

"The Kinkajou" (1927)
From "Rio Rita"
Nat Shilkret & the Victor Orchestra, Vocal by Billy Murray

Promotional Disc for
"Why Bring That Up?" (1929)

"It Happened in Monterey" (1930)
From "King of Jazz"
Henryk Gold & His Orchestra

"A Night of Happiness"
from "A Song of Kentucky" (Fox-1929-Lost Film)
Jackie Taylor's Orchestra, Vocal by Buster Dees

"What is claimed to be the longest close-up ever made in
all talking motion pictures was taken of Lois Moran in
'A Song of Kentucky.' Co-starred with Miss Moran is
Joe Wagstaff with Dorothy Burgess leading the
supporting cast in a story that has as its greatest
thrill, the running of the 1929 Kentucky Derby and
the charm in its musical atmosphere."

"Wedding of the Painted Doll" (1929)
The Badgers
From "The Broadway Melody"

"Chinatown, My Chinatown" (circa 1916)
Tenor Solo - Little Wonder Records

Ad for the "Hop Ching" Checker Game
on Display in Above Window




"That Old Gang of Mine" (1923)
Ernest Jones & Billy Hare

"So What's the Use?" (1910)
Raymond Hitchcock

"The Perfect Song" (1930)
Nat Shilkret & the Victor Salon Orchestra

"Maybe?" (1926)
Nat Shilkret & the Victor Orchestra, with Jesse Crawford

###

09 November 2008

A Temple of Synchronization


No, "Vitaphone Varieties" hasn't fallen by the wayside --- nor has this writer!
True enough, recent posts have been scattered and erratic at best, and gone are the days of new additions that appeared with clockwork regularity in years past --- but I owe it to you, to the topic at hand and (I suppose) to myself, to try to maintain a monthly posting schedule.

Many thanks to the readers who have written, expressing concern, horror, anger and polite curiosity --- for these notes did much to hasten my return! I cannot hope for this blog to ever lay claim to being "100 Shows in One" as the glorious lobby-card for "Show of Shows" depicted above does, but we'll try our best! Oh yes, there will be a third annual "Yuletide Frolic" post in time for the holidays --- so check back!

For now, let's get to it. Forgive the somewhat rusty prose, pace and content of this post --- I'm limbering up after too long being away from the keyboard!

In late 1928, newspapers informed readers that "George Jessel has completed a sound drama with songs for Tiffany-Stahl, titled 'The Ghetto,' from an original story by Viola Brothers Shore." The film would reach screens in February of 1929 as "Lucky Boy."

A lengthy, syndicated publicity press release --- also from February of 1929 --- affords some interesting, albeit highly colored, background on the film --- and on Jessel himself, and is worth offering here in part:

"When Jessel started making 'Lucky Boy,' the Tiffany-Stahl feature production, he was up against some new and strange problems. The singing and talk sequences required more time in rehearsal than the lead role in a legitimate production. From the start, Jessel had his heart set on making 'Lucky Boy' something far greater than 'The Jazz Singer,' his brain child that wandered out into the world to make a tidy fortune for Jolson instead of Jessel. 'Lucky Boy,' therefore, had a grave responsibility as far as Jessel was concerned."

"The picture, portraying Jessel's life and seasoned with Jessel's subtitles and dialogue, was like a second son who must atone for a first-born's derelitcion. While the sound sequences were underway at the RCA Studio, Jessel was starring in 'The War Song,' a legitimate drama, at the National Theater (NYC - September to December of 1928) His role in this play was longer than 'Hamlet,' and he had to do much singing."

"One day, at the studio, a camera rebelled after Jessel had worked since 10 o'clock that morning. He was due on stage at at the National at 8:30 and it was almost 7. Jessel realized that if the scene was not taken the same day, it would flop. The cast was rehearsed and coaxed into the mood, the scenery had been set up after hours of work, and the musicians were soaked in the melody that Jessel was to sing. While the operator worked on the camera, Jessel jollied everyone along and watched the studio clock anxiously. Soon, everything was in readiness and Jessel mounted the stage. Singing with all h is heart and soul, he went through the first verse chorus of 'My Mother's Eyes,' the theme song of the picture, and not a Kleig light clicked, not an unwanted sound disturbed the perfect synchronization of Jessel's voice. Jessel started on the second stanza. The cameraman cut him short with 'Stop!' The film had buckled. Three times the cameraman made repairs, and three times Jessel sang, only to be cut short with 'Stop!'"

"He had been working all day, he had a night's work ahead of him. In exasperation, he made a dash for the door. 'Let me get out of here quick before I shoot myself" he whispered to the door attendant, but the door had hardly closed on him than he was back. The last attempt was tried. And, oddly, Jessel sang as he had never sung before, the musicians played as though to make the song immortal, and a charm lay on the camera. Instances like this occurred ime and again in the making of 'Lucky Boy,' as in the making of all sound pictures while the process is in its infancy. Jessel, by the sheer force of his personality, surmounted them all."

A far more accurate, yet no less charming overview of 'Lucky Boy' was offered by reviewer Wood Soanes in early March of 1929:

George Jessel, who played 'The Jazz Singer' on the stage and nearly played it on the screen, made his talking debut at the Vitaphone Theater yesterday in a Tiffany-Stahl production entitled 'Lucky Boy.' The picture is one that permits him to sing his songs, do one of his acts, and comport himself otherwise in a mild reflection of Jolson's second release, 'The Singing Fool,' as a youth who fights his way to musical-comedy fame and the hand of a society girl."

"But, 'Lucky Boy' is far from a satisfactory picture. Tiffany-Stahl apparently decided that Jessel's reputation in the theater was of sufficient importance to let him worry along with a cast of second-rate players, and burdened him further with bad photography and shoddy direction. It is questionable if even Jolson would have risen above the situations created by the producers in 'Lucky Boy,' and no-one has ever accused Jessel of being anything more than a fair to middlin' song-and-dance man who was carried into the limelight by the melodrama and sentiment of the stage version of 'The Jazz Singer.'"
"'Lucky Boy' is the story of a Jewish jeweler in the Bronx. The boy doesn't want to peer through a magnifying glass for the rest of his life. He believes he is an actor in the making. In this contention he receives support from his mother and indignant lectures from his father. So he runs away, becomes a star and has his father refer to him as 'My Boy,' with accent on the 'My.'"

"During the course of the scenario Jessel sings a number of songs, most of them current hits, a Mother song being used more or less as a theme number. Of his song and talk appearances, Jessel's bit in the amateur-night performance was far and away the best. He wrote the dialogue and titles himself, and that was another mistake."

Surprisingly, "Lucky Boy" is still with us today, although a bit truncated from its original length and looking and sounding every bit its age, but it's worth seeking out. To compare Jessel to Jolson is quite beside the point, as both performers have personalities and a screen presence that one either admires or loathes --- seldom a middle ground --- but it's very difficult indeed to imagine "The Jazz Singer" without the manic energy that Jolson provided and makes it interesting to watch in even the most difficult of that film's moments, and there are many such stretches. No, "The Jazz Singer" with Jessel would have been a very different film, and perhaps so would have film history.

Of the "5 Song Hits 5" mentioned in the ad at left, we have two versions of the film's theme song with us --- one from Jessel's commercial 78rpm release of the tune, and the other an excerpt from the film's soundtrack itself:

"My Mother's Eyes" (1929-78rpm)

"My Mother's Eyes" (1929 soundtrack excerpt)

Curiously, the flipside of the 78rpm release version of "My Mother's Eyes" contains a tune that seems as though it was surely intended for inclusion in Jessel's film, but it's nowhere to be found in the print of the film that I screened --- nor is there mention of it in any press release. It'd be interesting if anyone can shed any light on the minor mystery surrounding:

"When the Curtain Comes Down" (1929-78rpm)

Chester Bahn, Dramatic Critic of the Syracuse Herald, wrote this magnificent, perceptive and evocative review of "The Lights of New York" in late August of 1928:

"In 1915, the Strand, throwing open its doors to Syracuse screen fans, became the city's first deluxe cinema house. In 1927, the Strand introduced the Vitaphone, becoming the city's first temple of synchronization. Yesterday, the renovated and refurnished Strand passed still another milestone of achievement with the local premiere of the first all-dialogue sound drama - Warners' Vitaphoned 'Lights of New York.' Of these three distinct contributions to the city's progress in cinematic entertainment, I am inclined to unhesitatingly award the palm to 'Lights of New York.'"

"The advent of Vitaphone more than a year ago was an omen. The Strand's current headliner may be accepted as its fulfillment, in part at least. To those who with the obvious flaws of preceding sound pictures in mind have dubiously queried 'Can the wide gap between stage and screen technique be spanned?,' Warners' primary attempt to substitute dialog for subtitle makes an affirmative answer in no uncertain fashion."

"Not, of course, that 'Lights of New York' is perfect. Even the most enthusiastic publicity purveyor in the Warner livery would hardly dare claim that. But those faults which are more in evidence are not so much the result of faulty technique as they are of faulty mechanics -- failure of a voice to register, for example. And that, I believe, is of the utmost significance."

"One of the most interesting of all speculative sound subjects has been the effect the introduction of dialog sequences would have upon tempo. A favorite assertion has been that such sequences would so retard action as to make suspense and climactic moments well nigh impossible -- that scenes would drag wearily along. 'Lights of New York' also goes far to nail that as a canard -- not all the way perhaps, but far enough to make an intelligent conclusion possible. The picture, with its liberal use of speech and its minimum of subtitle, is packed with suspense. Nor is there any appreciable loss of 'punch' where the spoken word supplements the conventional screen climax."

"The story itself is old-fashioned melodrama, done a la 'Broadway.' The plot, aside from its setting, is easy recognizable by any veteran of the Grand Opera House galleries. The dialog, introduced is, in the main, sensible. Occasionally, there are lapses, but they are not too frequent so as to annoy. From the standpoint of settings, the picture is well done, with perhaps one exception. A Central Park scene is so unreal, so obviously studio, that it reminds of the cinema's earliest days."

"Histrionically, the picture is average. Warners' publicity spotlights the name of Helene Costello, but there is little in her characterization of Kitty Lewis or in her handling of dialog to warrant it. Cullen Landis, the male lead, makes a fair impression, but he is no Conrad Nagel by any means. The best work, I should say, was done by Gladys Brockwell as Molly Thompson, and by Robert Elliot as Detective Crosby. Wheeler Oakman's heavy is cast in the 10-20-30 mold."

While we await someone to inform this department just what "the 10-20-30 mold" refers to, listen to this excerpt from the original trailer disc as spoken by Warners' player John Miljan. The scripting may strike you as either incredibly pompous or eerily wonderful, but either way you'll remember this one:

Excerpt from "Lights of New York" trailer disc (1928)

By the time Ted Lewis' "Is Everybody Happy?" was trundling towards local screens in time for Thanksgiving of 1929, Lewis himself acted as pitchman for the film --- which may or may not have had audience members firmly resolve to make holiday dinner a quick affair in order to get to their local talkie house in time for the evening show.

Like so many of the more intriguing personality films of the day, nary a frame of film seems to have survived from "Is Everybody Happy?" despite the plethora of audio that lays in wait to perhaps some day rejoin the image.

"Is Everybody Happy?" (Trailer Disc)


Until we meet again next month --

Thank You!

"Sonny Boy" - From "The Singing Fool" (1928) - Vitaphone Disc Excerpt


###