#915: ANDERSON, John Murray: King Of Jazz (1930)

ANDERSON, John Murray (United States)
King Of Jazz [1930]

Spine #915

Blu-ray

Made during the early years of the movie musical, this exuberant revue was one of the most extravagant, eclectic, and technically ambitious Hollywood productions of its day. Starring the bandleader Paul Whiteman, then widely celebrated as the King of Jazz, the film drew from Broadway variety shows to present a spectacular array of sketches, performances by such acts as the Rhythm Boys (featuring a young Bing Crosby), and orchestral numbers — all lavishly staged by veteran theater director John Murray Anderson. Presented here in the most complete form possible and restored to its original early-Technicolor glory, King of Jazz offers a fascinating snapshot of the way mainstream American popular culture viewed itself at the dawn of the 1930s.

100 minutes

Color
Monaural
1:37:1 aspect ratio

Criterion Release 2018

Director/Writer

John Murray Anderson turned out to be the perfect director for this filmed revue. He was 44 when he directed King of Jazz.

The Film

If you lived during the 1920s, you knew who Paul Whiteman was. His caricature was everywhere — including on the front of his drummer’s bass drum ...

This wonderful “jazz” revue (what was jazz in 1930?) was filmed in two-strip Technicolor (you won’t find any blue here) and survives in a nearly complete form. The acts:

1. Music under the credits: A snatch from Rhapsody in Blue — right into Music Hath Charms (music: Milton Ager; lyrics: Jack Yellen);
2. Charles Irwin is our narrator. He stands in front of a huge prop — a 30-foot high book entitled Paul Whiteman’s Scrap Book;
3. Said to be the first animated cartoon segment in Technicolor, Walter Lantz (who would go on to create Woody Woodpecker) incorporated Whiteman into a cartoon about a lion, a monkey, an elephant — and, oh yes, Oswald the Rabbit, swiped from Disney;
4. Whiteman brings out the band members as tiny miniatures, crawling out of a toolbox, onto a bandstand. The trick photography is perfect;
5. Whiteman asks several of the musicians how long they’ve been in the band. “Meet the Boys” follows, with short spotlights: They’re identified here from the invaluable commentary (see below):
1. Harry Goldfield (trumpet) playing Hot Lips;
2. Joe Venuti (violin) and Eddie Lang (guitar). Lang died very young a few years later, but Django Reinhardt heard him play in 1928! [see Woody Allen’s Sweet And Lowdown for a possible fantasy about these two];
3. Roy Maier (piccolo);
4. Six violinists perform two Fritz Kreisler works;
5. Chester Hazlett (clarinet), playing Nola) (Hazlett played in a soft, breathy “subtone.” Maurice Ravel came to America to check it out);
6. Roy Bargy (piano);
7. Wilbur Hall (trombone);
8. Mike Pingatore (banjo);
6. The Russell Markert Girls, forerunners of the Radio City Rockettes. Here they do a stunning number while seated;
7. Missing section filled in with stills — introduces Jeanie Lang and Laura La Plante;
8. Jeanette Loff in Bridal Veil;
9. Lang, Grace Hayes and William Kent sing I’d Like to do Things for You. Pre-code, folks. Hayes literally beats Kent up;
10. Short blackout skit: Ladies of the Press. La Plante, Lang, Merna Kennedy, Hayes and Kathryn Crawford. Turn it up to hear the punchline;
11. The Rhythm Boys (Bing Crosby, Harry Barris and Al Rinker) sing So the Bluebirds and the Blackbirds Got Together;
12. Monterey sung by John Boles and Loff. In a terrific effect, a painting turns into the real Loff. Watch for a fly that lands on the painting at 31:07;
13. Blackout skit #2. In Conference with La Plante, Glenn Tryon and Kennedy. Not as funny as #1;
14. Kooky scene with Jack White. Four of Spades? Right . . .;
15. A Bench in the Park, with Stanley Smith, Loff, and The Brox Sisters. The Russell Markert girls, looking more and more like their successors; the musicians mixing with the girls; and — astonishingly — Whiteman himself turns around in his chair and — this is 1930, folks — there is the cutest little Black girl sitting on his knee. He winks at her, she pinches his cheek, and she smiles. Her credit is “Snowdrop”;
16. Blackout skit #3. Springtime, with Slim Summerville, Yola D’Avril and Walter Brennan (yes, him). Fifteen seconds of nonsense apparently based on a New Yorker cartoon;
17. This film and All Quiet on the Western Front were being made simultaneously at Universal. Here, Irwin introduces All Noisy on the Eastern Front, a sketch that even SNL wouldn’t dare touch today;
18. Willie Hall absolutely steals the show here, this time on violin (and air pump). Although we know the sound was prerecorded, it is apparent that Hall could actually do all this;
19. A white man (Jacques Cartier) — dressed in full “African” costume — dances on an oversized drum. This is the prelude to Rhapsody in Blue, which now opens with a close-up on the gorgeous Sisters G (Eleanor and Karla Gutöhrlein); the camera pans up to reveal Cartier (you can see his face here) pretending to play the clarinet ... the performance (Roy Bargy, piano — a Gershwin look-alike) is pretty good. Note that though Gershwin wrote the music, the orchestration was done by Ferde Grofé (Grand Canyon Suite), who was Whiteman’s chief arranger for over 12 years. This is a great opportunity to hear this great American composition performed pretty much as it was for the first time — just six years earlier. Anderson’s camera keeps its interesting throughout;
20. Oh! Forevermore! with Kent doing his drunk act;
21. My Ragamuffin Romeo, sung by Lang and George Chiles; danced by Marion Stattler and Don Rose. Stattler is the star here, as Rose throws her body around like a limp rag doll;
22. Blackout skit #4: Loff and Company. “Daddy, there’s a boogie man in that closet.”
23. Happy Shoes. A wonderful procession of great scenes: stop-motion animation, The Rhythm Boys again, the disembodied heads of The Sisters G, rubber-legged Al Norman, the Russell Markert Girls (always fabulous) — and again, Anderson’s shot choices are brilliant, subtle compositions;
24. Whiteman wants to dance. Instead, when Anderson cuts to a long shot we see Paul Small shuffling around. Small was an actual Whiteman impersonator who went out of business after Whiteman went on a diet (which was national news). As the segment ends, the real Whiteman pulls off a bit of Small’s “mustache”;
25. Stills fill in the missing introduction to Has Anybody Seen Our Nellie? sung badly (intentionally) by Frank Leslie, followed by an equally awful barber shop quartet. Shamokin, Pennsylvania gets the final shout-out;
26. The Song of the Dawn was supposed to be Crosby’s big solo number, but Whiteman gave it to Boles after Bing crashed his car, and argued with the judge about excessive drunkenness, which earned him a 60-day jail sentence. He seems to have been given preferential treatment, because he was allowed back on the film set during the day. But here, Whiteman punishes not only the besotted Crosby — but us, as well. Boles is no Bing;
27. A sliver of Rhapsody in Blue introduces The Melting Pot of Music. The idea is that America is made up of all these Northern European white guys who drop into the pot and come as American Jazzers. Oh well, it’s 1930;
28. Accompanied by another snippet from Rhapsody, Anderson spins the camera wildly, producing an exotic kaleidoscopic image, very unusual to film of this period. The final shot finds Whiteman taking a deep bow. Look carefully: right behind him are Crosby and Rinker, holding saxophones!

Film Rating (0-60):

55

The Extras

The Booklet

Twenty-four page booklet featuring an essay by critic Farran Smith Nehme

Commentary

featuring jazz and film critic Gary Giddins, music and cultural critic Gene Seymour, and musician and bandleader Vince Giordano ...

What a commentary! Between the three of them, the 100 minutes fly by ... they know each and every actor and musician in the film — and the old-timey stories are all captivating.

Introduction

to the film by Giddins

Video interview

with musician and pianist Michael Feinstein

Video essays

Four new essays by authors and archivists James Layton and David Pierce on the development and making of King of Jazz

Deleted scenes

and alternate opening title sequence

Short 1

All Americans, a 1929 short featuring a version of the "Melting Pot" number that was restaged for King of Jazz

Short 2

I Know Everybody and Everybody's Racket, a 1933 short featuring Paul Whiteman and His Orchestra

Cartoons

Two Oswald the Lucky Rabbit cartoons from 1930, featuring music and animation from King of Jazz.

Packed full of really fulfilling extras. This release is a truly enjoyable excursion into both the music and the culture of this period.

Extras Rating (0-40):

38

55 + 38 =

93

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