La revue des revues

One of a handful of "revue" films from the early sound era, this film mixes musical numbers and comedy routines, a la vaudeville. Some items don't really work, in particular Frank Fay's role as emcee, and the finale, which is rather loosely structured. On the other hand, Winnie Lightner does two terrific turns, especially with "Singin' in the Bathtub," which is put over with punch. Some versions have the "Li-Po-Li" segment in 2-strip Technicolor, which gives the routine unusual sheen and polish, playing off the strengths of the system, especially in the use of turquoises and reds.

Generally superior, I think, to MGM's "Hollywood Revue of 1929," and worth watching if you can

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

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

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.

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.