Bright Lights

"Bright Lights" is a good example of early cinema after the advent of sound. It includes some popular actors from the silent era who transitioned well enough in sound, but whose careers lasted less than a dozen more years. Dorothy Mackaill, Frank Fay, Inez Courtney, Edward Nugent, Daphne Pollard, and Philip Strange had short careers in sound.

James Murray and Edmund Breese died in the mid-1930s and Noah Beery died in 1946. Only Tom Dugan had a film career that lasted into the 1950s and ended with his death in 1955. I mention this as one reason that few of these names may be known today – other than by serious movie buffs.

Mackaill was a moderately talented singer and actor who played glamor roles in a variety of film genres. But, as film technology advances leapfrogged within a few short years of sound, the competition increased. The glamor age of Hollywood was just beginning. Many new beautiful and talented actresses came on the scene. That included several multi-talented women who could also sing and/or dance. Alice Faye, Jeanette MacDonald, Deanna Durbin, Judy Garland, Eleanor Powell and Ginger Rogers had talents that dwarfed Mackaill. Mackaill made her last theatrical movie in 1937. She was just 34, and she would live to be 87.

Frank Fay started in movies with sound. Although a talented actor and singer, he faced the same competition Mackaill had. But, added to his declining career was his huge ego, a drinking problem, and difficulty in working with others. His film career all but ended with three early films in the 1940s.

Some viewers and the DVD sales company like to promote this as a "pre- code" movie. I think that's done for a lot of films that would not have much of a problem when the motion picture industry began to enforce its code in 1934. But, Mackaill was one of the stars who played roles that had provocative scenes or scantily dressed women. This film has a silhouette scene of the actress undressing behind a screen. Other than that, the chorus costumes and performances were no more revealing or suggestive than any of the many musical films from the mid-1930s onward.

"Bright Lights" is what might be called a formulaic film of early musicals. The musicals most of us remember and enjoy from the past are those that have considerable plots. They tell the stories with musical and/or dance numbers at intervals. But, the earliest of the sound era musicals were mostly revues. They had scripts with very thin plots, if any, and were mostly staged music and dance numbers, sometimes with comedy stuck in, as in the vaudeville days.

Besides this example, the technical and production aspects of "Bright Lights" are examples of the early transitions in film. For instance, the heavy use of makeup in this film is most obvious with Frank Fay. The acting at times seems stuck in place – probably because this was filmed with fixed microphone locations. And, the acting itself still has some twinges of melodrama – a carryover from the silent film days.

There are no memorable songs from this film, and the choreography of the big numbers is rudimentary compared to later accomplished musicals. The film has a thin plot, but there are no exceptional performances. It has some historical value for a look at a handful of early actors who bowed out of films within a few short years. And, it has some value in showing the state of the film craft in its early years of transition to sound and other major advances.

Michael Curtiz directed this frantic soaper concerning a musical star on Broadway who's on the verge of leaving show business behind for married life; however, during her current stage-extravaganza, police investigate a murder/suicide backstage. Hackneyed early talkie is too ambitious for its own good (and attempts to pack too much plot into 70 minutes of running time). Dorothy Mackaill doesn't fire off many zingers in this one but, as always, she's hypnotically fascinating. Mackaill may have become another Bette Davis had she hit Hollywood just a few years later. The supporting cast (including Frank Fay, Noah Beery and Frank McHugh) and surrounding chaos don't do Dot justice. *1/2 from ****

"Bright Lights" was for years virtually unseen, unappreciated in its day due to the huge number of musicals that exploded across early talkie screens. Shot by director Michael Curtiz in two-strip Technicolor in Dec 1929, its belated release on Sept 21 1930 found an unreceptive audience, so the film was pulled back, its 73 minute running time trimmed by five minutes, and reissued under the new title "Adventures in Africa" (the only existing title on all current prints, all unfortunately in black and white). Top billed Dorothy Mackaill had been a huge star in silents, somewhat overshadowed by the large cast, but still able to spice things up in all her scantily clad glory, director Curtiz failing to hide anything as she undresses in silhouette. Her singing isn't too bad either, but the songs tend to slow the pace of a wild, over the top script that juggles her impending marriage to wealthy socialite Fairchild (Philip Strange) with various backstage shenanigans on the night of her farewell performance. Frank Fay, then husband of Barbara Stanwyck, co-stars as Louanne's possessive former partner, who listens to her stories to the press about some of her past experiences, including a naval baring number in South Africa titled "Song of the Congo," witnessed by Portuguese smuggler Miguel Parada (Beery), whose lascivious attempt at rape finds her throwing a lit oil lamp at his face. Now on her last night in the Broadway footlights, Miguel (to no one's surprise) just happens to be in the audience, a hidden gun just waiting to exact revenge. It's somewhat jarring to find such a comedic ensemble huddled into a murder mystery for the film's second half, after Miguel winds up shot dead with his own pistol (at least the pace picks up at this time). The solution doesn't make much sense, and the possibility of a second murder at the fadeout really makes this musical a true pre-code oddity (lots of suggestive dialogue survives: "that's the cleanest proposition I've had all day!"). While most of the performers have long since faded from memory (Dorothy's making a comeback, God bless her), one uncredited actor was here making his screen debut at age 23, a Shakespearean wannabe calling himself 'Peter Richmond,' eventually going by the name John Carradine by 1935. Arriving in sunny California in 1927, Carradine was living a vagabond life, working as an artist and dishwater to make ends meet when not performing on stage, meeting his idol John Barrymore around this time with the goal of doing "Richard III." In adopting Barrymore's lifestyle of drinking and carousing, the already flamboyant Carradine found a kindred spirit, each possessing 'The Divine Madness,' forever looking down his nose at movie work, never mentioning this film while touting his next title, "Tol'able David," as his first (understandable, since there he had a featured role). In "Bright Lights," Carradine appears at the 11 minute mark for a period of 20 minutes, mostly off camera among the many newshounds gathered in Louanne's dressing room for a spot of note taking. He's the tallest one, clean shaven and wearing a hat, a newspaper photographer who gets to speak two lines, a total of four words: "Telegraph here" and "sure, sure!" Always seen in the background, he enjoys over two minutes screen time, while the unbilled blonde chased by boozing reporter Frank McHugh, Violet Madison (Jean Laverty), surely deserved a screen credit ("no matter where you hide it, I'll find it!"). He undoubtedly looked upon this as a quick buck, not intending to have a future in the movies, but by 1936 his screen career was assured, his affinity for on screen perfidy earning him kudos in John Ford's "The Prisoner of Shark Island."

The First National Musicals that have been turning up on TCM are interestingly elephantine antiques for fans of old movies. In many ways they are as interesting for what the film makers got wrong as what they got right. No Broadway theater ever had such immense stages as are seen in this one, not even the new ones, miked when they were built. The chorus lines are dwarfed on the stage.

Likewise, director Michael Curtiz and cinematographers Lee Garmes and Charles Edgar Schoenbaum can't seem to figure out how to stage people for camera and microphone. Frank Fay seems stagy and ill at ease in close-ups and two-shots, but when he is performing on stage and shot in medium long range from about the sixth row, (although there are no seats) he is fine. Contrariwise, star Dorothy MacKaill is at her best in Dutch angle close-ups. She may have started as a chorine, but she had become a star in silent pictures.

The other performers offer interesting contrasts. Who knew that Daphne Pollard could sing? Can you spot John Carradine in his first film performance? Could Frank McHugh be more annoying as a drunk reporter? These are the things that make this movie interesting more than eighty years later.

They don't make it good. The movie musical went into eclipse for three years from ill-managed things like this. It's certainly not hard to understand why.

This backstage musical and murder mystery was originally filmed in 2-strip Technicolor but only a B&W version exists.

Dorothy Mackaill stars as a stage star on the night of her final performance. She's leaving show biz and marrying into a wealthy family. As the tributes pour in about the great star, we are shown via flashbacks her true past. It's an interesting narrative structure and keeps the plots moving.

Despite her cleaned-up image, Mackaill is shown to have started out in a dive in South Africa, doing a sleazy hula number and cavorting with several men. Frank Fay plays her devoted (and ignored) pal, and Noah Beery is a lecherous suitor. When the men get into a fight, Mackaill hurls a lit oil lamp at Beery and burns his face. Of course Beery shows up on Mackaill's final night and gets involved in murder.

Mackaill gets to sing and dance to outrageous numbers like "Cannibal Love" and "Song of the Congo." She also gets to dress in a tuxedo and sing and dance to "I'm Just a Man About Town." Frank Fay sings several songs as well, and the spirited Inez Courtney sings a terrific "Hey, Hey, He's Not So Dumb."

Also along for the ride are James Murray as Courtney's suitor, Frank McHugh as a drunken reporter, Tom Dugan and Daphne Pollard as the comic relief, Edward Nugent as a chorus boy, and Jean Laverty as a chorus girl.

Mackaill had been a Ziegfeld showgirl before hitting movies in 1920. She was a big star by the mid-20s and made 65 films, easily making the transition to talkies. But when Warners bought out First National in 1928, Mackaill was on of several stars (Colleen Moore, Alice White, Betty Compson) whose contracts were not renewed. She freelanced for a while and finally quit films in 1937.