Broadway

Broadway now exists in two versions - the 88 minute visual silent with Hungarian subtitles and the 105 minute soundtrack only of the talking version (inflated for production numbers).

I was most impressed with the cinematography (Hal Mohr) in the scenes that could be filmed silently with soundtrack added later. The tracking and crane shots are amazing for any period, but especially for an early talkie; about an hour into the silent print, a morning after shot reveals the enormous night club set being cleaned by custodians with an almost surrealistically mobile camera. In contrast the scenes including dialogue are filmed rather conventionally with a non-moving camera.

The night club set is a stunner - looks like it took up an entire sound stage - kudos to Art Director Charles D. Hall. There are only a handful of other sets, mostly small backstage interiors.

The plot is very simplistic. I won't reveal any details as I don't want to provide spoilers. However, I can reveal this. There are two parallel plot lines - one involving a hoofer and his romance with one of the chorus girls, and the other a reel one murder involving management and bootlegging that relies on feelings of guilt and paranoia to bring the guilty party to heel.

Glenn Tryon is a lousy singer, but Evelyn Brent's superb performance as Pearl carries the film.

As a piece of cinematic history, it's a treasure to find. Now if the talking version pictorial elements surface, we'll be able to really compare the two.

If you take away director Paul Fejos's flashy crane shots and stunning opening sequence set to the music of Ferde Grofe's "Metropolis," there isn't much left to "Broadway," an otherwise static transfer of a stage play to the screen in the early talking era. The quality of the sound is superior to most talkies made in 1929 and the camera set ups and actor blocking are slightly less moribund, but there are still too many long sequences of posed bodies mouthing dull dialogue. Glenn Tryon, the appealing vaudevillian from Fejos's "Lonesome" the year before, is fine as the hoofer who dreams of getting out of Club Paradise and hitting it big. And Evelyn Brent, in what amounts to a supporting role, dominates the screen with her smoldering presence whenever she appears. Problem is, in order to make this routine play about backstage intrigue involving showgirls and bootleggers interesting as cinema, Fejos chose to make liberal use of innovative, ambitious crane shots, requiring an inflation of the nightclub setting to such gargantuan proportions that the main character's ambitions seem questionable; isn't he already headlining in the biggest show place on earth outside a football field? Rather than a small-time venue, we get something more like a surrealist-cubist airplane hangar and it soon becomes clear that the movie is simply an excuse for Fejos to experiment with a new toy. The sweeping camera draws attention to itself, whereas the liberal use of superimpositions in "Lonesome" a year earlier revealed truths about modern mechanized drudgery and the nature of urban crowds. Most of the songs by Con Conrad, Sidney D. Mitchell and Archie Gottler are cut off before they can get much beyond their introductions, their purpose reduced to another means of showing off the gigantic stage set. At well over 90 minutes, "Broadway" outstays its welcome. The much-touted finale, synced to a reprise of the film's best song, "Hittin' the Ceiling," looks like a jerkily animated third-generation color photocopy.

After 75 years considered lost, "Broadway" directed by Herr Paul Fejos was found in Hungary, in a very well preserved copy with Hungarian titles but that European language is not a problem for this German Count because he remembers very well those Austro-Hungarian old times. This remarkable discovery gives silent fans the chance to watch the virtuosity of camera work of a director not very well known. His obscurity is a complete disgrace because Herr Fejos'surviving silents are absolutely fascinating.

"Broadway" tells the story of underworld criminals who run the "Paradise Club". In between musical numbers we have crimes and intrigues involving showgirls and special investigators. Passion, strange business and love affairs are all part of the mix too."Broadway" shows characters caught up in dual roles and the turmoil in which feelings come out into the open, the sort of conflicts that Herr Fejos was so fond of.

The most remarkable aspect of this film is the extraordinary camera work, especially Herr Fejos' use of an enormous and amazing camera crane which he himself designed and which scrutinizes every corner of the "Paradise Club", giving a frenzied rhythm to the film with those incredible camera movements. It also highlights with many details and angles, the beautiful and astounding sets that are the backgrounds for the fuss, happy and dangerous night life in the Broadway streets. The second notable aspect of this modern silent film is that it was made before the superb "Lonesome" (1929) and, like that film, it is part of the transition period between silent films and talkies. "Broadway" was an early musical available in both formats, silent and talkie and what's more, the silent version found in Hungary is a complete copy that includes at the end of the film "Technicolor" footage ( faded after so many years ) of the final musical scene number and this so startled this German Count that his monocle popped out from his aristocratic eyes more than once.

And now, if you'll allow me, I must temporarily take my leave because this German Count must leave vaudeville behind and attend the opera.

Herr Graf Ferdinand Von Galitzien http://ferdinandvongalitzien.blogspot.com/

The Film Forum in NYC screened the sound version of this film on July 24,2012. The Technicolor last reel of course is lost but the rest of the film was complete and ran about 108 minutes. Will not give away the plot but is worth viewing just to see the innovative use of a giant camera crane to film the Night-Club scenes. Really amazing for a film made in 1929. I must say that the acting is really not that great for a film listed as a Universal "Super Production" in the opening credits.Glenn Tryon is passable playing the role of the comedian but you have to wonder how much better the film would have been if Lee Tracy, who played the same role in the Broadway Musical that the film was based on had appeared in the film also.

Crane shots, where a camera is positioned on the end of a long sturdy pole called a jib, is as ubiquitous in sporting events, concerts, award shows and in movies as seagulls at the beach. D. W. Griffith gets credit for having the first crane shot in cinema in 1916's "Intolerance." But that was a camera sitting on an elevated moving platform on rails.

The first use of a crane for filming was May 1929's "Broadway." The combination musical and gangster film, based on the 1926 play of the same name, "Broadway," was one of the first Hollywood films to center its plot around a backstage drama involving a murder. Paul Fejos, who the previous year directed "Lonesome," was selected to handle Universal Pictures first all-talkie musical. The studio executives felt so highly of Fejos' talents they budgeted an astronomical $1 million towards "Broadway's" production.

Much of the expenses went to construct a huge nightclub set as well as a large 50-foot crane to support the camera bolted to its top end. The entire system, costing between $50,000 and $75,000, carried a heavy camera and was mounted onto an iron cart on wheels. The crane, used both inside and outside, gave Fejos the freedom to film elevated shots from the stage to the ceiling of the specially-constructed Paradise Club. Working alongside cinematographer Hal Mohr, cameraman for the 1927 "The Jazz Singer," Fejos maneuvered the apparatus throughout the nightclub set. Cinema had never quite seen such a soaring series of shots like Mohr's. This helped to capture a breathtaking dance number at the conclusion, which was filmed in two-strip Technicolor. After "Broadway's" production finished, the crane remained with Universal long after Fejos left, where it was put to good use.

"Broadway" opens up with a whirlwind of images, sending viewers' eyeballs bouncing all over the place. Universal built a small-scale model of New York City's mid-town centered around Broadway's theater district. A smaller camera crane whips around the miniature skyline before a double exposure of a very fit Green Giant-type of model appears. Once inside the Paradise, the camera continues to dollie throughout the corridors and stage area, transporting the audience inside the nightclub, a la Martin Scorsese's 1990 "Goodfellas." Fejos plants his camera inside the sound-proof container only when the movie's plot begins to unfold. Once inside, "Broadway" zooms in on choreographer Roy Lane (Glenn Tryon of "Lonesome" fame) and his dancer girlfriend, Billie Moore (Merna Kennedy), both whom try to avoid the criminal element of the nightclub's owner and his associates. Merna Kennedy had earlier played opposite Charlie Chaplin in 1928's "The Circus" and ironically, later married the choreographer of a number of early film musicals, Busby Berkeley.

Even though "Broadway" received decent returns, both Universal and Fejos were disappointed by the receipts. Once he wasn't named as director for Universal's upcoming 1930 "All's Quiet on the Western Front," Fejos left the studio to pursue other opportunities in film and followed his passion as an anthropologist. But his imprint on the dazzling crane shot in cinema would forever be imprinted in movies as one of the more reliable sweeping motion shots on the screen.