It was the most chaotic era in the history of American entertainment, possibly its most dynamic, and in some ways its least understood. In a stunningly brief time, as the Jazz Age roared to a close, the art of the silent film became extinct, thrown over in favor of the unknown, virtually untested medium of talking pictures. Leading the way was a brand new American art the movie musical. Taking off like a shot from day one, this new genre instantly became the a quintessential form of American entertainment. Here for the first time is the story of this fabulous, forgotten age when the movies learned to sing and dance. Chronicling the early musical film years from 1926 to 1934, A Song in the Dark offers a fascinating look at these innovative films, the product of much of the major experimentation that went on during the development of sound technology. Illuminating the entire evolution of this new sound medium, Richard Barrios shows how Hollywood, seeking to outdo Broadway and vaudeville, recruited both the famous and the unknown, the newest stars and the has-beens, the geniuses and the hustlers. The results were unlike anything the world had seen or backstage yarns, all-star revues, grandiose operettas, outlandish hybrids--some wonderful, many innovative, a few ghastly. He recalls, for example, such monumental films as the 1927 hit The Jazz Singer starring Al Jolson, the first feature film to include both talk and song. Corney, hokey, and repellently manipulative, it was by most accounts, even by 1927 standards, a poor film. Yet, showcasing the spectacular and extremely popular Jolson, it created a new dimension of intensity that silent films could not duplicate, playing to over one million people per week across the country only three weeks after its release. He discusses such memorable releases as The Broadway Melody (winner of the Academy Award for best film in 1929), the first true musical film that established movie musicals as potent and viable entertainment. Barrios goes on the offer in-depth discussions of innovative films such as The Desert Song , and On With the Show! , the first all-color talkie, as well as the more mature musicals of the 1930s including the Warner Brothers' "backstage" musicals of 1933-34 that started with 42nd Street and the Gold Diggers films. And, of course, he talks about the famed Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire collaborations, such as Flying Down to Rio , which, with their sophisticated style and technique, established them as the premier film musical team. Throughout, Barrios highlights the careers of the original great musical stars like Al Jolson, Eddie Cantor, Busby Berkeley, and Maurice Chevalier, and presents the films of newcomers such as Jeanette MacDonald, Bing Crosby, and Ruby Keeler. The fickle public rushed to see these stars--talking and singing and dancing across the screen--then suddenly turned away. It took the Depression to bring back musicals, bigger and brassier than ever. The triumphs, disasters, and offscreen intrigue are all here in a fascinating story told with a blend of scholarly research, engaging writing, and cogent criticism. With more than fifty photos, extensive annotations, and a discography, A Song in the Dark memorably recovers this vital and unique film heritage.
Richard Barrios' most meticulously researched and readable book is a perfect companion to "The First Hollywood Musicals" in what is, to me, the most fascinating era in movies. Who would have imagined that in the same year (1928) as Harold Lloyd's "Speedy" and Lillian Gish's "The Wind", a tin pot film with mediocre stars and amateurish direction would pave the way for the death of silent films. The movie was "Lights of New York", the first all talking feature film, the dialogue was laughable but it combined two plots that were to become important in those early talkie days - the underworld and back stage life. Although Warners was first on the scene with "The Jazz Singer" and "Lights of New York", in Barrios' opinion the studio continued to fumble it's baton and didn't really gauge what the public wanted until it was too late. They made "The Desert Song" but shelved it for 5 months and by the time it was released other studios had gone ahead by leaps and bounds and Warner's film looked static and staged compared to MGM's "The Broadway Melody" which had queues around the block. Barrios delves into every film that carried a song or two in those early years (which was almost every other film). The dreaded theme song - "Woman Disputed, I Love You" from "Woman Disputed" to "Dynamite Blow My Sweetie Back to Me" from "Dynamite" (I am not joking)!!! He also had me on his side by his obvious admiration of Nancy Carroll, an actress who was "Queen of the Screen" in 1930 but within a couple of years was being woefully mismanaged by Paramount. She was just a terrific actress who was equally at home in musicals ("Honey") and dramas ("Stolen Heaven"), should have won an Academy Award for "The Devil's Holiday" and should have had a long, steady career. Maybe it was her beauty (as well as her temper) that stood in her way. Barrios describes her best as a "sexy valentine for the waning Jazz Age". Even though there were things I don't agree with - his inexplicable liking for "On With the Show" and his questioning of just how Alice White became a star, his book is compelling to read. I always maintain Alice White gave it all she had. By dying her hair blonde she became an instant Jazz baby in films like "Hot Stuff", "Naughty Baby" and "Broadway Babies". No, she couldn't sing, her dancing was strictly amateur night stuff but considering she didn't have a showbiz background (she was Josef von Sternberg's secretary) I thought she did pretty good. With her cute looks and big eyes who cared if her acting wasn't up to scratch - she also kept the fan magazines intrigued with a series of sex scandals!! There is also the downside. Barrios tells of a fire at Pathe's New York studio in December 1929 - 10 dead, 18 injured. It was found to be a fire trap and Pathe executives were blamed. The fire department looked carefully at a lot of the studios operating in the New York area and found that in the eagerness to supply the public with musicals (especially shorts) corners and safety measures were being cut. Instead of finishing at the dawn of a new musical era "42nd Street", Barrios does a post-mortem and closes at 1935 and shows how the other studios regrouped. Fox found it's forte in bright and breezy musicals and struck gold with Shirley Temple, RKO were set for the decade with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, even lowly Columbia went highbrow with Grace Moore and Warners, after the grittiness of "42nd Street" and "Footlight Parade" promoted Ruby Keeler and Dick Powell to musicals were the depression was just an idle rumour. Me, I still love Winnie Lightner singing "Pingo Pongo".
This is an academic book that analyzes musical film from 1926 to 1934. It is interesting, thorough but slow reading. (It took me a month to read the book, and I stayed with it diligently.) Barrios writes well, but his subject matter is esoteric. Having said all that, the book is full of interesting stuff, fascinating anecdotes of people, cultural trends, technological issues that have disappeared into the mists of time. Barrios argues that all this virtually forgotten historical detail is important. I'm not so sure, but it is interesting.
A good read focusing on a little-examined period of Hollywood history: the rise of the musical film in the earliest days of the talkies, followed by its near-extinction. Lots and lots of detail, a readable style, and welcome touches of humor.
I have read the second edition of "A Song in the Dark: the Birth of the Musical Film", and enjoyed it a great deal. Offhand I believe I would try to find the second edition as there are updates within, chiefly, I believe, at the book's end which deals with the last great wave of musical films of the late 1960s-early 1970s (the road show era).
Mr. Barrios' book is an essential one as it deals with films that, for the most part, most of his readers may have never seen. Perhaps to avoid an academic tone on occasion the writer adds editorializing to the book which can be both amusing and somewhat irritating but I would admit that at times the editorializing is understandable. Ultimately if readers wish to track down specific films described here they can find them (often) on Turner Classic Movies or You Tube so they can judge for themselves.
Given the size and content of this book I wish it were available as a downloadable one, but to my knowledge it is not.
As there is no equivalent book about this motion picture making era that I am aware of, "A Song in the Dark: the Birth of the Musical Film" is essential reading.
A great summary of how musicals took the screen by storm. Barrios is an entertaining writer and keeps the content fresh, but after a while, your head will start aching at all of the names of unknown films and actors until you can't keep them straight.
I was glad to add a couple of early musicals on my Netflix list and was also saddened to learn about how many of these pieces of early film heritage, although not that old, are lost.
This is my favorite non-fiction book. I love film musicals and older films. This combines both- it's all about early film musicals. Barrios is frequently witty and wise, and his footnotes are fantastic!
Reading this book makes you want to see each film he describes. It's definitely a keeper, and one that I keep going back to for fun and reference.
A Song in the Dark is an essential guide for anyone with a keen interest in film history and musicals. There is a lot of information here and I feel like it was delivered effectively. The author is very opinionated and that takes some getting used to. Read my full review here: http://www.outofthepastblog.com/2013/...