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I took in an evening of Vitaphone shorts last night at Film Forum and had a great time. These shorts all came from the years 1927-29, and all but one included some musical content, though two or three were primarily comedy routines straight out of vaudeville.
It's often easy to think of old-time entertainment as tame and saccharine, but every single one of these shorts belied that notion. They were saucy, sassy, and very, very entertaining -- even the supposedly straight musical ensembles threw in a great many humorous touches to liven things up. Almost nothing was played straight.
First up was Bernardo De Pace, a mandolin player. Dressed in a Pagliacci clown outfit (and sporting an oddly gleaming wig that appeared to be made of cellophane), he alternated between clowning and shredding. He was the first of many acts on the evening to remind me of Chico Marx, in that he clearly was a master of his instrument but devoted much of his time to tricks and tomfoolery.
Several of his descendents, who financed the restoration of this film, were on hand for the show, so the audience was particularly enthusiastic about this opening short.
Next up, the Police Quartette, four LA cops who offered acapella singing somewhere between barbershop and early Mills Brothers. Great fun.
The third short, The Night Court, had something of a plot. Cops raid a night club, and the performers mount their defense in night court by performing for the judge. William Demarest played the defense attorney.
Shaw and Lee, the stars of the fourth short, were a deadpan comedy team who had the house howling. Their material was a mixture of puns, wisecracks, and absurdist non sequiters, and they mixed in a couple of songs, too, one of them entitled "Don't Forget to Breathe or Else You'll Die."
Dick Rich and his Melodious Monarchs, the stars of the fifth short, were the first of several jazz orchestras to be featured on the night. It was interesting to note the makeup of these combos as compared to the swing bands of the late 1930s and '40s. Almost all had three saxes and three or four brass instruments, but more than one included a banjo player and all had string players (two violinists at a minimum), too.
Rich was a portly fellow who mixed in lots of humor with the music. A Cherie Rich (his wife? Not sure.) provided vocals, and he drew laughs by making faces behind her back. Rich and his orchestra were apparently quite the rage on the West Coast in the twenties.
Sol Violinsky, the star of the sixth short, was a fast, adept piano player who mixed in some Chico-esque wisecracks between songs (he also added comic lyrics to his version of The March of the Wooden Soldiers), but the highlight of his set was when he strapped an extra-long bow to his thigh and played the violin (which he held under his chin) and the piano simultaneously.
In the seventh short, the Larry Ceballos Revue offered a recreation of a roof garden revue. It featured lots of leggy dames doing oddball line dances to peppy accompaniment provided by a jazz orchestra. Fun stuff.
Paul Tremaine and His Aristocrats were the stars of the eighth short. They were a popular jazz band of the day and featured close harmony vocals on several songs. Very peppy, very tight, very fun.
In the ninth short, Sinclair and La Marr delivered a thick slice of vaudeville, playing "two wisecracking ladies loafing through a vacation at the beach." It was ten or twelve minutes of set-ups and punchlines, and if one joke didn't suit you, there was another right behind it that probably would. This was, I think, the only short that featured no music at all.
Earl Burtnett and His Biltmore Hotel Orchestra were the stars of the tenth short, and they were perhaps the least jazzy of the bunch. But it was still pretty entertaining stuff. One of the instrumentalists stepped forward to croon a sappy version of "The Melody Lingers On," but the set was redeemed by a quartet singing a nicely syncopated rendition of "The Tiger Rag."
Mayer and Evans were just great in the night's eleventh short. He was a novelty (but genuinely talented) piano (or, as he called it, the "boxcar zither") player who performed in cowboy gear and mixed in lots of humor with the music, and she was a undistinctive but pleasant enough vocalist who played straight woman to many of his humor bits. They were very, very entertaining and probably got the loudest applause of the night.
Abe Lyman and His Orchestra were the stars of the night's final short. He was a drummer (though not a terribly interesting one, I have to say), and his orchestra played some sweet tunes and some uptempo ones (including "The Varsity Rag").
Overall, it was a very entertaining set of shorts. There was scarcely an earnest moment in the entire evening -- all the performers brought a winking, wry quality to their performances that was very winning.
It felt very much as if we'd time-traveled back to the 1920s, and an entertaining excursion it was.
Posted by brett at 12:13 PM | TrackBack