Paramount on Parade

I've just watched the current restoration and can add some information to the 2002 review.

The footage of the opening "Showgirls on Parade" sequence is missing but the sound survives.

The sound disc for "Isadore the Toreador" has been located (only a few days ago) and will be put into the next restoration with the surviving Technicolor footage..

Nino Martini's number is now complete, and in Technicolor.

The "Dream Girl" Technicolor footage survives but the sound is missing.

The "Gallows Scene" is missing most of the sound except for Dennis King's song.

You get to see dozens of early talkie stars in this hodgepodge. The short "drama" sequences and most of the "comedy" sequences are awful, but the singing and dancing routines are tops. My favorites are the "I'm in Training for You" routine (Jack Oakie and Zelma O'Neal), the "Dancing to Save Your Soul" routine (Nancy Carroll and an uncredited Al Norman - the great deadpan rubberlegs dancer), Maurice Chevalier singing "All I Want is Just One" and "Sweeping the Clouds Away" and little Mitzi Green imitating Chevalier.

Of the early talkie-era all-star revues, this one is by far the most "fun." The song sequences are nicely done; in particular, the "Dancing to Save Your Sole" segment with Nancy Carroll. Maurice Chevalier does very well in his three segments, one comedy segment, one comedy musical segment (bearing the noticable stamp of Lubitsch), and the entertaining finale. The comic segments are a bit hit or miss, but the Philo Vance/Sherlock Holmes/Fu Manchu skit near the start is a must-see. I saw this in an old TV print; the color sequences mostly exist, but have yet to be restored, and the copy of most prints that circulate is servicable, but not spectacular. Find the best print you can.

Sad to say I recently saw an abbreviated version of Paramount On Parade with about only 60% of the numbers and acts in the edited version I saw. Fortunately I do remember seeing the whole film in years gone by.

Paramount's biggest star in those days was Maurice Chevalier who gets to be in three numbers, one of them being the finale. He also had the biggest hits of the show with All I Want Is Just One Girl and Up On Top Of A Rainbow. His third number the Poor Apache is an Apache number if Mack Sennett had choreographed it.

The White Mountain studio made both an English and French version and in the French version Jeanette MacDonald was mistress of ceremonies as opposed to comedian Skeets Gallagher for the English. She also was given a number in the French one that we in America weren't privileged to hear. I'm told it's quite lovely.

William Powell and Clive Brook play Philo Vance and Sherlock Holmes in a murder mystery satire where they annoy Warner Oland as Fu Manchu with insisting on dragging in other suspects. Eugene Palette and Jack Oakie are also in the skit as well.

Cut out of the version I just saw was Dennis King, Broadway star who had just repeated his role as Francois Villon in The Vagabond King. That film doesn't hold up well for a number of reasons, but his number Nichavo in Paramount On Parade is a stirring song that King's virile baritone takes to easily. King did much better on stage than on the screen although he scored very well in his next film with Laurel and Hardy, Fra Diavolo.

The finale is Maurice Chevalier with Up On Top Of A Rainbow done with a hundred chorus girls as well. The song and Maurice are fine, but these kind of numbers really needed Busby Berkeley to show how its done.

I'm a big old sucker for these all star films which had a brief run during the early days of sound and then were revived during World War II as morale boosters. I only wish a complete version was available out there.

A couple of years into the Talkie revolution, several studios put on feature-length revues to promote their brand, of which Paramount's effort seems to have been better than most, even though it has not worn particularly well since. (Also the print I watched was notably fuzzy and dim.)

Deservedly, it gives generous exposure to Maurice Chevalier, who had just rescued the studio's fortunes with his Ruritanian romance 'The Love Parade', just as the Wall Street crash was threatening to ruin Hollywood. In particular, his energetic closing act, 'Sweeping the Clouds Away', accompanied by an endless line of leggy beauties, was clearly meant as a cheer-up call for the Depression-hit masses.

As for the other performers, I can only say that they remind us of the transience of fame (at a range of nearly a century). Not one in ten of these names mean anything to us today. Jack Oakie seems to occupy second place, and although I have often enjoyed his work, I think he was personality rather than artistry. Interesting to catch a glimpse of the young Frederick March. Otherwise, Gary Cooper, Clara Bow and Fay Wray more-or-less complete the roll of memorable stars.