The Show of Shows

But not just any movie fans, I'm talking to hard core movie fans, movie historians, movie archaeologists and those who want to understand early Hollywood. If you are one of these, this Hollywood antique is for you. It is somewhat entertaining and most of the stars and specialty acts are long gone and mostly forgotten. Comedy has evolved and what's here is old and stale, but nevertheless "The Show Of Shows" is a fascinating 2-plus hours of the way things used to be, entertainment-wise, in the early part of the 20th Century. Ever heard of Frank Fay, Irene Bordoni or Lupino Lane? Thought not. Maybe your parents have and surely your grandparents did. This picture is like a Who's Who of oldtime entertainers, and if you fall into one of the categories mentioned at the beginning of this review, this one is a must.

A really big show from Warner Bros. "The Show of Shows" was the studio's version of rival MGM's highly successful musical variety series (which are, presently, restored by Warner Bros.). Unfortunately, only the "Oriental" number introduced by Rin Tin Tin is currently availably in color; originally, only a small part of this film was presented in black and white. Audiences likely enjoyed the extravagant opportunity to see some of their favorite stars in an "All-talking, all-singing!" motion picture...

Contributing also as a writer, host Frank Fay does a good job. The studio's biggest star at the time was Richard Barthelmess (rising from #8 in 1928 to #7 in 1929 according to the annual Quigley Poll of Box Office stars); he does not sing or dance, preferring to briefly appear as a dignified presenter. The legendary Al Jolson does not appear at all, but Sid Silvers imitates him well. John Barrymore contributes a fine excerpt as "Richard III" from "Henry VI" - rare celluloid from the Shakespearian maestro...

Another highlight is the biggest hit song from the show, "Lady Luck" performed memorably by band-leader Ted Lewis (who took it to #3 on the record charts) and singer-guitarist Nick Lucas (who helped keep Lewis from rising higher by locking down #1 for ten weeks with his "Tip Toe Through the Tulips"). Of the many cover versions, "Singin' in the Bathtub" (a good-natured poke at MGM's "Singin' in the Rain") rose to #10 in a version by Guy and Carmen Lombardo; here, Winnie Lightner contributes a vibrant version.

***** The Show of Shows (11/21/29) John G. Adolfi ~ Frank Fay, Nick Lucas, Winnie Lightner, John Barrymore

Although dismal as cinema (static wide-angle camera records acts performed on a large theatre stage) it is great notstalgia to see (in a few rare close-ups) stars of the 20's, many of whom were yet to become famous. Particularly, as Master of Ceremonies, Frank Fay, who, 15 years later in 1944, would be cast on Broadway in a role which had already been offered to (and turned down by) 4 famous stars: Harold Lloyd, Edward Everett Horton, Robert Benchley, and Jack Haley. Frank Fay then originated in his greatest role the character Elwood P. Dowd in the Mary Chase play "Harvey" (the name of his imaginary 6-foot-tall rabbit friend). When the producers later sent Fay to take the National Touring Company cast on the road, the play then continued on Broadway with the remaining cast, but with role of Elwood P. Dowd played by James Stewart, who had just finished his movie characterization of George Bailey (It's Wonderful Life). Another road show cast I saw in 1947 at San Francisco's Geary Theatre starred Joe E. Brown, who would recommend Stewart for the movie version.

Two years after the success of THE JAZZ SINGER (1927), Warner Bros. released this all-talking, all-singing, all-star revue to capitalize on the popularity of sound pictures. THE SHOW OF SHOWS (1929) features a wide variety of acts from a roster of famous stars of stage and screen. There are lots of songs and lots of mass choreography, but also comedic bits and a dramatic scene.

The movie is quite a spectacle, though nowadays its value is mostly as a curiosity for hardcore film buffs. The songs generally aren't that great and the performances aren't always polished, though everybody seems to be having fun. Much of the cast is made up of largely forgotten stars of the late silent/early sound era that most modern viewers wouldn't recognize. But it's a real treat for film historians.

I'm a big fan of old movies and classic Hollywood, and many of the featured stars are obscure even to me. Most of the stars are identified at some point in the film, though countless others are mixed into scenes with little fanfare. Without identification I was able to spot Myrna Loy, Ben Turpin, Chester Morris, Richard Barthelmess, Douglas Fairbanks Jr., John Barrymore, and Monte Blue. And I'm familiar, to varying degrees, with people like Frank Fay, Winnie Lightner, Louise Fazenda, Dolores Costello, Noah Beery, and Tully Marshall.

Frank Fay emcees the proceedings, tying the various acts together and introducing the stars. His verbal comedy shtick is a good fit for talkies and he does a pretty good job.

An early highlight is Winnie Lightner's upbeat comedy song "Ping Pongo". Louise Fazenda, Fay, Lloyd Hamilton, and Beatrice Lillie do a recitation sketch that's pretty funny, though it stretches a little too long. There's a number featuring notable screen villains as pirate versions of themselves (singing pirates, naturally). Another features several pairs of movie star sisters, including Loretta Young and Sally Blane, who look freakishly alike. Lightner also sings "Singin' in the Bathtub", a tune I know from old Looney Tunes cartoons. John Barrymore hams it up with a Shakespeare soliloquy as Richard III.

I was surprised and delighted halfway through to see an exotic number in two-strip Technicolor. Apparently most of the film was shot in color, but the surviving print is in black & white with the exception of this segment.

It's great seeing so many Hollywood personalities doing fun little acts and musical numbers. Everybody seems to be having a good time, putting on a big show. Some names and faces are more recognizable than others, but the film is a fascinating glimpse at the stable of Warner Bros. talent at this transitional point in cinema history.

A musical spectacular from the infancy of the sound era, THE SHOW OF SHOWS is literally presented as a stage production, with fairly static cameras and sometimes clunky framing. Sometimes the closed stage curtain fills the top three-quarters of the frame while a chorus line dances along the bottom edge. In one song voices drop out of range of the microphone as the singers move across the stage. Some of the extended crowd choreography gets tiresome, but the comedy is good for a few laughs. And it's always fun trying to identify the stars in the ensemble scenes.

6/10 for entertainment value, but 7/10 as a historical curiosity.

It is difficult to evaluate this or any other comparable film of the early sound era in terms that one might use for ordinary film commentary. At times there is almost a desperation, as many film personalities of the silent era try their wings at sound, surely fearing that they will be left by the wayside (as did happen to some), Rin-Tin-Tin. however, was pertfectly natural. In such a vaudeville of unrelated sequences, some were sure to stand out John Barrymore's soliloquy from Richard II is a moment certainly worth preserving. By and large, only those with earlier stage training exuded confidence. However, this is over all reasonably entertaining, and a must for "film buffs" especially interested in the silent to sound transition