New York Nights

A Broadway comedy actress (Norma Talmadge) has a philandering husband (Gilbert Roland) who is always out getting drunk. She dangerously finds help from a gangster (John Wray) who becomes possessive of her.

Talmadge (who also produced) made her Talkie debut with this fast wise talking drama with plenty of gangster background and some backstage show drama and a handful of numbers, ticking all the early Talkie boxes. Talmadge took diction lessons for her part, but this clearly wasn't enough to woo the public with fairly poor box-office receipts.

Based off the play, 'Tin Pan Alley' by Jules Furthman and with a decent cast, the 1938 re-release also included scene that included among others Al Jolson and Jean Harlow in cameos.

You feel guilty watching this because director Lewis Milestone was so upset with his final product that he didn't want it releasing. Since it was produced by UA supremo, Joe Schenck as a vehicle for his wife, Norma Talmadge, that was never going to happen.

The title NEW YORK NIGHTS and a story about gangsters and seedy nightclubs makes you think this might be a sort of proto-Warner gangster film. Sadly that's nothing like this. This is a pretty awful picture. It just doesn't work and you can almost feel the pain of disappointment Mr Milestone felt when he saw what he'd made. It was his first talkie which he realised weren't quite as easy to make as he thought... but he certainly learned by his mistakes to make his classic ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT a few months later. You can hardly believe these two films were made by the same person!

It can be partly excused by the fact that none of these people had made a talkie before and only a few filmmakers got it right first time. It's not dreadful - there are plenty of 1929 films much worse but it's hardly what you'd consider entertaining. Plenty of pictures from this dawn of sound age are engaging, enjoyable or even captivating. The only reason to watch this is.... no, sorry - can't think of one.

Silent superstar Norma Talridge acts like she's still in a silent film. Stage actor, John Wray plays possibly one of the most irritating and least convincing gangsters I've ever seen. And then there's Gilbert Roland whose acting is actually OK but he's hampered by a truly terrible script and a poorly written character.

Let's respect Lewis Milestone's wish to pretend that WESTERN FRONT was really his first talkie.

This is one movie from 1929 that does not deserve the bad reputation it has. Norma Talmadge's voice is fine. Her performance in this remind me of Clara Bow, and director Lewis Milestone throws a costume party for the demi-mondaine that strikes me as something that human beings out for a good time with the rough crowd might go to for: free food and booze -- one at which the neighbors call the cops at 2AM instead of waiting for lightning to set the dirigible on fire a la DeMille.

The story is a little flat and predictable for 1929: showgirl Talmadge throws out songwriter-husband Gilbert Roland after he turns up drunk one time too many and takes up with visiting Chicago hood John Wray, who's crazy for her, but she can't help loving the big sap of a hubby.

There's lots of good stuff, from proto-noir lighting and some nice moving shots by cameraman Ray June, some fine editing by Hal Kern and good acting all around. So why the lack of interest? I think Miss Talmadge was in her mid-thirties, thought that film-making was getting too complicated, she wasn't getting any younger, and she didn't need the money. She and her sister Constance owned a big chunk of San Diego, anyway.

This was silent drama star Norma Talmadge's talkie debut, and it flopped at the box office. However, for the life of me, I cannot figure out why. Legend has it that Singin in the Rain's Lena Lamont was modeled after Norma, but I have to tell you that I really couldn't detect much of a New York accent in her voice, and her speaking was perfectly fine. She also seemed to understand how to integrate speaking and acting into a cohesive whole. Gilbert Roland was a bit hammy, but if you look at his performances just a couple of years later he improved very rapidly. In fact, the worst performance here - and it's really not that bad - is John Wray as the gangster that is after Norma's character. He plays it way over the top yet he had plenty of roles in talking films for years to come.

The story is pretty routine - Jill Deverne (Norma Talmadge)is married to Fred (Gilbert Roland), a struggling songwriter. Their domestic happiness is threatened by a gangster who is interested in Norma and by a chorus girl who is interested in Fred. Lilyan Tashman plays Jill's friend and does a great job with the catty lines as she stands up for Jill.

The only thing I can figure about the original failure of this film is that people had a certain idea about their silent stars and, for the most part, giving them a voice just took away the magic and made them seek out new faces - Cagney, Blondell, Tracy, and Hepburn among others. Very few weathered the transition and Norma Talmadge was among the many casualties. If you're a fan of the early talkies I recommend you check this one out if you get the chance. It's a rare opportunity to see Norma Talmadge in a film since so very few of her silent films survive. That's too bad since she was one of the most popular dramatic actresses of the silent era.

A police wagon speeds through pre-dawn Manhattan streets as the credits roll. The siren screams, there is no music. Two policemen rouse a doctor to a stricken man, he's dying. "Who did it, Dopie?" Cut to a tuxedoed silk hat in the back of a chauffered limo. "Gee, boss, that was a nervy hit." An I. O. U. for $25,000 payable to Dopie Brown is being torn, "Somebody's always gotta pay for a fourflush." A cackling John Wray (as Joe Prividi) chews the I. O. U. pieces into a spitwad, then flings it out the window. Joe then breaks into a flower shop and takes a stolen bouquet to "his goil".

Norma Talmadge as Jill Deverne is the object of Joe's affections. Leaning into a clever two shot in a dumbwaiter, she reminds her Broadway show's producer that her husband might object. Jill walks the knife edge between offending her benefactor and encouraging his romantic inclinations. She is polite, yet firm. In another room, her husband, Fred (Gilbert Roland) works on a tune with buddy, Johnny (Roscoe Karnes). Fred's stuck for a closing lyric and Jill enters with a plum, then falls into his arms. In one scene, Gilbert Roland and Norma Talmadge exhibit their fine voices and sparkling, well-honed chemistry. Roland and Talmadge had been teamed in THE DOVE (1927) and A WOMAN DISPUTED (1928) and here, the magic pops out of the screen. Norma has several close-ups that display her acting mastery. Halfway through the first reel you'll be in love with this movie.

Lilyan Tashman, as Jill's friend Peggy, has a backstage scene where her beauty is truly revealed. With her hair hidden by a cloche-like headpiece, Ms. Tashman's face is revealed to be the most beautiful ever photographed. Also revealed, in this pre-code picture, is her body. Were it not for the wings of a bird seemingly painted on Lilyan's front, all of her modesty would be lost.

The direction is excellent, tightly handled by Lewis Milestone right before he started ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT. The pace is rapid and only relents for one brief reconciliation between Jill and Fred. They plot their getaway in a booth in a diner. As they hash out the final details, the camera dollies slowly to the next booth, chillingly revealing Joe's chauffer eavesdropping.

Ray June keeps interesting shots coming throughout the 64 minutes my print ran. And this is where a discrepency arises. The runtime is given as 108 minutes (IMBD), then a release footage of (approx.) 7380 ft (IMDB). AFI lists the release footage at 7447. As both footages run 81 or 82 mins, one wonders what happened to the rest of the film. [I know film shrinks, but that's rediculous] I can find only evidence of one song ever having been in the picture.

73 years after its release, it is impossible to determine what sank this wonderful film at the box office. But, sank it did. Impossible to ascertain whether it failed to be promoted, what the rumor mill ground out or just how the public expected silent film stars to sound. After one more picture, the glittering career of Norma Talmadge, a star that shone so bright as to bring two sisters into the arc light, would be extinguished. Only a year later, as writer Joseph L. Mankiewicz noted, the end of the silent era was typified by Norma Talmadge leaving the Brown Derby and telling a gang of autograph hounds, "Get away, you little b*****ds, I don't need you anymore." And thus fell silent a splendid, promising new talking picture career.

At least we have this terrific movie to remind us of how good silent film technique could be in talkies.