Canadian Film Weekly (Oct 2, 1946)

Jackie Lewis Will Be Missed A Friend Passes A good many of you in the Toronto area knew Jackie Lewis, who passed away in his sleep recently at the age of 45. Although he had not been in robust health for some years, his going was entirely unexpected and a shock to all of us who had carried on the practice of spending several nights each week with him. Jackie, who had produced many amateur shows in Ontario on a professional basis, was, to my mind, the outstanding historian and librarian in these parts of the music of the jazz age. He had a great collection of records and early sheet music and it was the habit of Al Daniels of the Royal Theatre, Harold Grossman of the Chicken Palace, Joe Perlove of the Daily Star, Comedians Sammy Sales and Johnny Shapiro and others to gather in his rooms. There we listened to his records, talked the show business of the 20’s and of today and Jackie’s almost unbeatable memory and limitless reminiscenses gave us many a happy hour and contributed to our enjoyment of life. If an argument arose Jackie’s position was inevitably correct, for he dug into one of the many books around him to prove it. His favorite sport was to seat himself at the piano and accept the challenges of any old-timer, who would call out the name of a tune and dare him to play it. In that way forgotten songs of Berlin, Kern and Gershwin were heard by us. This quiet, sad-looking fellow knew thousands of songs and his memory was only extended when old-time actors would bring up songs of another day which were not hits. But he never missed the tune or the name of the writer. Many Toronto stage and radio artists called Jackie’s library or memory into play, seeking songs needed by them. No show arranged by him was without the old numbers he loved so well and he produced two radio shows based on them. He was always ready to play or organize a benefit and last season, when a friend was seriously ill and not in good financial circumstances, Jackie let it be known among local artists that he was seeking gratis talent for a special show at the Victory Theatre. The response led to the greatest all-star show in these parts in years. It is perhaps ironical that the friend for whom he was so concerned outlived him. Jackie was born in Glasgow, Scotland, and most of his boyhood was spent in Toronto’s east end. He was drawn to the theatre at an early age, making his first appearance as a child singing patriotic songs. Later he lived in Detroit and New York, in the latter city being employed at the old Irving Berlin company as an assistant to the players and pluggers. He wrote quite a number of songs himself, some of which had been used’ in his productions and on the air. Several of these were written with Al Daniels, who was at the time a well-known master of ceremonies in Canada and the United States. Jack was Al’s accompanist in his first appearance. Most of the memories of our youth are bound up with old songs and Jackie’s love for them, which we all shared, enabled us to recapture continually those happy and wonderful days which followed the first World War and have been written about again and again since. Til health during the past few years had prevented Jackie from continuing his theatrical work and caused him to depart from the mortal scene without realizing a favorite dream— that of returning to the Old Country to work in its entertainment field. He was determined to go this fall and to that end _ had made certain preparations. He was a great little guy, a rare person with an unusual talent who was extremely generous with it. His passing will leave a sense of sorrow among those who knew him which time will help little to erase. FE I ORE NS Se ee eS Canadian FILM WEEKLY RKO’s Nakimson Is Honored Hunting Expedition Eddie Wells has some amusing stories to tell of his recent hunting and fishing expedition concerning things that didn’t seem so amusing at the time. Three couples matched themselves against the wilds and its inhabitants. Ed and his wife climbed a large rock because they had been told that the view from it was wonderful. The climb was warm so Ed took off his red shirt, which attracts the eye at a distance, and after seeing what there was to see, climbed down again—but on the wrong side. It doesn’t take long to get lost and it didn’t take long for the Wells’ to realize that they were strictly on their own. They were discovered by their friends after a period of great mental discomfort at the prospect of doing a Daniel Boone. Later the girls were handling the guns and one went off in the direction of the car. They were sure that the car had been hit but no noise was heard—until a hissing sound reached their ears. The bullet had gone right through a tire. Eddie says that there were more hunters than ducks this year. Two ducks flew over and drew a barrage that would have downed the Luftwaffe during the war. The ducks just went * about whatever business ducks go about but Eddie was sorry he hadn’t brought his old tin helmet along as protection against falling bullets. * ck * Mainly Light and Bright About the homiest trade gathering in these parts for a long time was the intimate and uncrowded farewell party to Meyer Nackimson, who has been promoted from the Toronto sales staff to the management of the Winnipeg office of RKO. The boys associated with Meyer in and out of the office got it up in some-thing of a hurry and those who considered themselves no more than acquaintances were left free to come or pass it up. That meant each attendant had a perscnal interest. On hand were Gary Hogarth of the Kingsville circuit, a lad extremely well liked hereabouts; Frank Hannon of Windsor and W. S. Woof of Amherstburg. Leo Devaney accepted the invitation to act as toastmaster. and his famed flair for that sort of thing contributed greatly to a rare evening of clean, almost homespun, humor and fine sentiment. That which he did not provide he drew out of Mark Plottel, Doug Rosen, Mickey Isman, Ben Freedman and myself, for the atmosphere created by him was so friendly that even the waiters wanted to join in, sit down, talk up, and tell the story of their lives. All in all, it was a theatrical cccasion with theatrics, a finely flavored evening in honor of a real nice fellow who has always taken care of his end and always will. Observanda We blew some last week, mainly because the pressure of tournament work and other things left little time for adequate checking up. I think you ought to know that the 35 mm. Itinerants grossed $51,217 in 1944, and not $11,211 as stated in our table. The latter sum was the amusement tax that year. Then in the tournament photos we called Charlie Chaplin by his brother’s name, Harold, as well as identifying Bob Maynard as Don Summerville. The latter set of lads are often mistaken for each other and dim print didn’t help us any. The main fault is in the ink, of course. We spend thousands of dollars for ink every year but we can’t seem to get a brand without mistakes in it. (That’s an old gag used by printers and editors kidding their way out of trouble) . R. D. Letts, manager of a theatre in Trail, BC, was fined five bucks for parking in front of his theatre. What, no passes? . At the Variety dinner Ernie Rawley brought Blackstone the Magician along to do tricks. He intro’d him to Dewey Bloom, who said, ‘Blackstone? Oh yes, I’ve smoked your cigars lots of times.’’ Legalite Dave Ongley was glad to have a look at the man who wrote the books he was raised on.