The Show of Shows

This is a deliriously colossal vulgar silly all star extravaganza revue of all the early talkie stars that Warner Bros could afford. ...and like most other rarely seen films actually made during the late 20s, an unforgettable opportunity to see and hear the genuine roaring twenties' exuberance and youthfulness put to song and dance. THE SHOW OF SHOWS is pretty gigantic. Vaudeville act after soliloquy after tap dance after acrobat after comedian after fan-dance after ukulele lunacy after Rin Tin Tin who introduces 'an oriental number'...(!)... and on and on it lumbers, grinning and squeaking away in fabulous gramophone quality Vitaphone sound. It is far too long, but among it's delirious delights are the awesome "Singin in the Bathtub" number created on a scale of which The QE2 architects would be proud...Beatrice Lillie lounging by a grand piano with some happiness boys amusingly warbling a witty ditty, Nick Lucas, and the never-ending grand finale in two color color...which is all set to the song LADY LUCK. . So keen are the tubby chorus line and leaping teenagers to en-ter-tain us that they almost kick themselves repeatedly in their own faces with glee and effort. Row after row of "Doll" characters hop past and some even emerge from the floor. I kid you not, there are even girls strapped to the crystal chandeliers, mummified with shiny gauze and chained up with pearl ropes, unable to move (for days, I imagine, during production) whilst this katzenjammer of toy-box athleticism twitch and spasm below to the Ukulele orchestra. Of course I loved it and had to watch this color finale over and over and then invite friends and family to the screen for weeks on end just to horrify and terrify them each separately and to roll about on the lounge in shrieking in delight at each and every exclamation of their startled reactions. And so should you...and rejoice that there was an era when this was created simply to entertain and thrill. It is all so demented.

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.

An amazing Moulin Rouge style film, with great songs and cameos from Myrna Loy and Beatrice Lillie. Amazing songs, including "Singing in the Bathtub", A good old-fashioned film, vaudeville at its best. It is well produced, and if they had added a storyline, it would have detracted from the entertainment. However, this film is impossible to find on video

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.

It is very hard to rate this film. As entertainment value for 21st century viewers, it fails miserably. However, for the student of early sound films and history, it is a jewel. "Show of Shows" was a revue filmed to compete with MGM's successful "Hollywood Revue of 1929", which still survives intact complete with its Technicolor scenes.

The purpose of the all-star revue was to showcase a particular studio's silent stars in speaking roles, and show that they could make the transition. However, Warner Bros. seems to have forgotten this and employs many acts and stars that they didn't even have under long-term contract such as Ben Turpin, Lloyd Hamilton, Beatrice Lillie, and even a marching band. Meanwhile, their biggest talent - Al Jolson - is noticeably absent. Even at a high salary he could not be compelled to join in. Almost every act is overly long and the film plays like a dozen or so Vitaphone shorts strung together with no continuity. The finale is also overly long, but it is really enjoyable with all of its dance numbers.

The highlights of the film are two numbers from Winnie Lightner - "Pingo Pongo" and "Singin in the Bathtub", a couple of numbers with Nick Lucas, John Barrymore performing Shakespeare, and the Chinese Fantasy "Li Po Li" with Nick Lucas and Myrna Loy. This last number is the only part of the film that survives in Technicolor, and it really is quite attractive. Reasonably enough, the players in these good acts were long-term Warner Bros. stars so perhaps the director knew how to play to their strengths since he was familiar with them.

This film acts as a snapshot at an odd point in film history - the year 1929, which was the bridge year between two eras - the silent and sound eras, and the roaring 20's and the Great Depression. Just two years later this same film would have had an entirely different cast, as Warner Bros. would abandon its silent era stars and the stars they hired just to produce the early musicals in favor of those stars that gave Warner Bros. its distinctive urban look and feel - James Cagney, Joan Blondell, Edward G. Robinson, and others.