Picturegoer (Jul-Dec 1936)

October 3, 1936 mth his frame of mind at this time is, naturally, his sister, Adele. "Fred was never satisfied with anything he did on the stage. Couldn't believe he was good. That's the way he is. Fred works hard, very hard. After ever3rthing else there is always his own endless rehearsing. He never likes an5rthing he does. He puts so much into it. He's so close to it that he thinks it comes so hard to him. He just won't believe he's finally reached it when it's finished. He can't beheve it's any good. So when people tell him they like it, he thinks they're just being nice. Trying to let him down easy. Yet one little criticism and he gets cross. He blows up quickly, but it's soon over. Afterwards he will say, ' Yes, you were right. It's lousy.' 1 remember in the old days when we used to rehearse. Fred was the one who wanted to go on and on. He was the one who wanted to practise. He wouldn't stop until he got it right. I was the one who always wanted to go and eat something. I hated to practise. I'd snatch at any excuse to shirk. I haven't the artiste in me that Fred has. Funny, for I was the one who was brought up on the stage. But Fred, he wouldn't sit down until the step was right, not if it took all night, not if it took all season. . . . "So we'd rehearse and practise and practise and rehearse, and then, somehow, some w^ay, on opening night I'd manage to make it. Opening night I'd reach it. I'd do it the way Fred wanted, and then after the show'd been running awhile, I'd start missing. I'd start to tangle. Maybe I'd miss a step, so in getting into the wings I'd stroll off frightfully blithe, acting very cute (I thought) foxing him, telling myself, ' Now, never mind. He won't notice that — it was such a little thing.' But he'd be waiting for me. ' Babe, you missed a step to-night,' he'd say very patiently; ' think we'd better stay after the show and rehearse.' And somehow, no matter what I wanted to do instead, no matter where I thought I had to go, there he'd have me rehearsing for hours, teaching me the routine all over again." Mrs. Ann Astaire, Fred, and Lord and Lady Charles Cavendish. Hence Fred Astaire's premier maxim : " Practice makes perfect." But to return to the d6but of Fred and Adele Astaire. Their act was perfected — at least, they thought so. Now they pondered over a stage name. "I want something different," Freddie confided to his mother. And eventually he conjured up a name which was a distinct innovation in vaudeville act appellations in those asiys — "Fred and Adele Astaire in a Smart Dancing Novelty." The act was shown to booking-agents, and soon Fred and Adele Astaire were en route to limitless footlight fame. They were signed for the Orpheum circuit at a salary which was stupendously munificent in those days for such youngsters — £40 a week. Of course, to-day we have Shirley Temples whose weekly recompense runs into four figures. An unforeseen circumstance arose which threatened to play havoc with this engagement. The Gerry Society in New York, and other groups which look out for the interests of minors, decided that Fred and Adele were much, much too young to mingle with hardened actors and be employed for profit on the stage. In other States, the youngsters found that child-labour laws precluded their stage appearances. Fred, after all, was seventeen at the time, with Adele a year older. So their initial bookings carried them away from such restrictions to Chicago, where they played the Kedziq Avenue Theatre, the Huntingdon Avenue Theatre and the Great Northern Theatre. To the dancing-singing-merrymaking Astaire pair, vaudeville meant two shows a day. They could only think of vaudeville in terms of the Palace Theatre, New York, where two-a-day vaudeville held forth for many years thereafter. The two-a-day reverie was harshly shattered for Fred and Dellie at the Great Northern, where no less than eight shows were given to the customers each and every day in the week. And the kids had to play four of them daily at forty pounds per ! It was hard work, but to-day Fred feels the experience well worth it. It provided training and a substantial background which heightened their future theatrical development. Here is what Fred recalls of those early days in Chicago : "Adele and I were booked for the Palace Theatre to open the show. We were thrilled when we were moved up from first to third number because we had made a hit. You know, first isn't a good spot on a vaudeville biU. Eddie Cantor was on the same bUl; ' Cantor and Lee ' it was at that time. "After we had scored a hit in the biU and were moved up next to Cantor, I remember him one day running back and forth behind the curtain watching us perform, and explaining, in mock display, after hearing the tremendous applause, ' What is this ? The Gans-Nelson fight ? How do you expect me to foUow this ? ' "To be openers for shows in those days seemed to be our fate. No matter how well we went over, our next engagement found us booked to appear first on the bill. At last a break came when we were playing the Columbia Theatre in St. Louis. We were placed in the Number Five spot, and we felt that we had ' arrived'. You can't imagine our feelings when we went back to the Majestic Theatre in I PICTUREGOER. Weekly Chicago and found we were again opening the show." Astaire came very near giving up the stage then and there, so incensed was he at the subjugated position in which the theatre management placed their act. In those days Fred Astaire never thought of himself for pictures. As it was, the first time he ever saw himself on the screen, it made him feel, as he admits, quite ill. He was verycamera-shy at first, and frankly admits : "Afterwards, I was amazed when people told me everything was all right." But before films, in which he has enjoyed unequalled fame, before his radio work, in which he was the first major star to apjjear before the microphone in dancing shows tapping away over the air waves, before his sensational Broadway musical comedy vehicles, Fred Astaire with his sister barnstormed the entire country, appearing in every important citadel of vaudeville entertainment in their brilliant, versatile act. Sup)erlatives were elicited from every critic who saw them. "Magnificent teamwork ! " " Splendid terpsichore ! " " The freshest thing ever to hit our city." "Enliven the show with their superbly entertaining antics. " These were colourful feathers for their praise-bedecked cap, which never swelled either of their heads. Like two fateful stars La the welkin, not like brother and sister bound in consanguinity until marriage and other products of Fate parted them, Fred and Adele Astaire were destined to a joint career in the amusement sphere. They danced their first steps together when just out of rompers. They achieved international renown together later on Their nimble feet and twinkling toes must act only in the presence of one another. So when the dancing Astaires swapped the variety stage for the musical comedy stage, they went together. It was Over the Top with Ed. Wynn, in which Fred and Adele Astaire made their sensational Broadway musical comedy debut. Fred was a young chit then, but the praise which their act evoked from the reviewers befitted a seasoned veteran. Over the Top marked the exit of Fred and Adele from vaudeville into musical comedy permanently. Perhaps the title of their first show presaged the fame to come for this youthful brother and sLster, now two enviable j)ersonages definitely en route to stardom on dancing feet which later became the talk of two continents. Apple Blossoms put the name of Astaire into the marquee lights after Over the Top, and this was followed by The Love Letter. The Astaires now came under the Aarons and Freedley mansigement, which first discerned Adele's comedy talent and gave her a role of this type in For Goodness' Sake. The managerial guess wsis correct. Adele animated the Astaire antics no end, which prompted the producers to send the show to London under the title. Stop Flirting. Their visit to London in this show reached into many months, and they returned to America to take part in Lady, Be Good for which George and Ira Gershwin composed and wrote the score. Now it appeared that Astaire tradition demanded that their vehicles after their Broadway run be shipped to London intact — which was just what happened to Lady, Be Good. NEXT WEEK The break-up of the Adele and Fred partnership and the star's personal triumph as a solo artiste — his successes on the stage in Er^land and his introduction to the screen.