Hollywood Filmograph (Jan-Jul 1930)

HOLLYWOOD FILMOGRAPH Fox Movietone Follies of 1930 Started Actors Rush Votes in for Casting Directors John G. Blystone Is Director — Ensembles by Dare, Lindsay, Kusell, Scheck Putting 100 youthful and beautiful dancers through preliminary paces at Fox studios yesterday might be set down as the official launching of production on what is expected to prove the most novel and stupendous production to be filmed by Fox in the more than twelve years of its production existence. The production is "The FoxMovietone Follies of 1930" and four masters of dance ensembles are cooperating, Danny Dare, Earl Lindsay, Maurice Kusell and Max Scheck. The 100 girls have in their possession term contracts and were the pick of 400 assembled some time since for tryouts. According to an announcement of Sol M. Wurtzel, general superintendent of Fox Films, the new Follies will be a radiant screen expression of youth, pep, personality, songs, dances, novelties and effects. John G. Blystone, director of the successful productions, "The Sky Hawk" and "The Big Party" as well as 45 other box-office successes, will direct, Al Rockett will officiate as associate producer and Owen Davis, Sr., has written the story. The cast will include John Garrick, Maureen O'Sullivan, Marjorie White and Tommy Clifford and number leaders include Fifi Dorsay, "Whispering" Jack Smith, Marjorie White, Noel Francis, Charles Judels, Ilka Chase and Walter Catlett. A score of song writers under contract to Fox and the Red Star Music company, an auxiliary of Fox Films will supply the song hits. Hard Fight for Post of the Popular Casting Fred Datig for years has been sort of held up as the leading casting director in filmland. Today his popularity is being tested by the younger men who hold down similar positions. Actors and actresses have been flooding the Filmograph offices daily with their votes for their favorite casting directors, and it looks like a hot fight, for Freddie Schuessler, Bill Maybery and Rex Bailey, all who have come to the front in the past year, seem to be paving their way to a silver loving cup, the much coveted prize offered by this publication for "The most popular casting director of 1930," and which will place the victor in line to command attention from the entire motion picture industry. Another prize which has caused the assistant casting director to likewise come in for no end of attention is a gold wrist watch, which will carry the inscription on it, of "The most popular assistant casting director of 1930." The men who are the aides to the casting directors, too, figure that such a prize will be well worth winning, and are doing all they can to gain the good will of those who they are daily aiding in getting jobs so they will vote for them. Hollywood Filmograph created this contest so that those connected with motion pictures would realize that an important position the casting and assistant casting directors hold and that they are entitled to screen credit along with the many other departments connected with the industry. Casting pictures today is one of the most thankless and difficult tasks that we have come upon inside of film circles. FORE! SHOOT IT! RKO studio employees staged their annual mid-winter golf tournament at Sunset Fields last Sunday. Motion picture people, as a rule, are honest. That is, they try to be honest — but everything in their daily life is false, so at times it is a pretty hard job. They were raised by honest parents who taught them to tell the truth. Then they came to Hollywood and the studios, where they learned that all things are not what they seem to be. A tree that looks like a tree turns out to be made of paper; a stone wall is made of a light wood — and so on. Therefore, it is a matter of small surprise to learn that these same men have difficulty keeping accurate count of their golf strokes. Carl Walker of the wardrobe department swung nine times at his first drive before he managed to hit the ball. "Well, that's one," he said nonchalantly. "One!" bellowed his partner. "What about the other nine?" "Merely rehearsals," claimed Walker. "Rehearsals, hell. This show started on the first swing," replied his irate partner. Arthur Mack, head groundskeeper at Sunset Fields, viewed the invasion of the RKO employees with alarm. After watching four of the players shoot their iron shots on No. 1 fairway, he groaned. "It looks like they're digging trenches for a war picture. This started out to be a comedy but it's a tragedy to me." The grand prize was a fine one, donated by Robert Gail, Inc. The winner, Ralph Townsend, gets his name engraved on a large silver cup. When he has won the tournament twice again, he will be permitted to take possession of the cup. This will make it necessary for Ralph to work for the RKO studios for three successive years, at least, and who ever heard of anyone working for the same studio for three years? Reginald Sharland, English featured RKO actor, enjoyed his first American golf game during the LOS ANGELES GRABS JAZZ BAND KINGS Apollo has given dear old Father Knickerbocker the stony stare. He has packed up his lyre and transferred it to the southland of the Golden West, where, during the brumal blasts that have lately about frozen all the glee out of New York life, joy from heart to heart is stealing in the precious sunshine. When Johnny Hamp, about two weeks ago, parked his magic baton amid the tropics of the Cocoanut Grove, all the music that was left for Gotham to slant his ear on was Semitic wails and moans from dear old Wall Street. Amid the dissonance of "zooris" and "oi, yoi, yois," the Big White Way let loose a jeremiade of "Come back, Paul, Johnny, George, Gus, Abe and Earl, and all will be forgiven," but they listened not to the song of the charmer, charm he ever so wisely. Oh, ye blithering idiots that are always waxing noodly about the fleshpots of New York and continually spouting that hackneyed "Camping Out" gag, just let the following rumble through your cocos — Los Angeles, on whose soil the sunshine of joy never sets, now possesses the very crerae de la creme of syncopation's thrills in the bands of Paul Whiteman, Johnny Hamp,, George Olsen, Gus Arnheim, Abe Lyman and Earl Burtnett. Poor Gotham is reduced to the extremity of grabbing only a whiff of their melody babies' delights, through remote control. It looks very much as if old Knickerbocker will have to make a merit of necessity and come over the top to the tune of Horace Greeley's slogan. And now that Melody Lane's Six Big Shots are here, might there not be early and active contention among them for bell-cow honors ? At first blush it looks as if Whiteman has the inside rail and the advantage of a running start. A consensus of opinion garnered by us in our night club meanderings points favorably to the Falstaff of Melody. He is now making the "King of Jazz" at the Universal Studio, and those who have gotten a peek at some of the sequences declare it will be the frog's tonsils in the way of glorifying the up-to-date syncopation orchestra. Paul boasts about 32 men in his band, most of them artists with their favored instrument. His art shines with a peculiar luster in the marvelous arrangement of popular and classic gems — in this line he is in a class by himself. Popularity and Paul always swing arm in arm together and he is fairly idolized by the rank and file of American music lovers. George Olsen's band of 19 men, man for man, is difficult to outshine. Each lad is a bird with his instrument and a number of them possess exceptionally fine traits of comedy. Their travesty on the opera of "Rigoletti'' is without doubt the cleverest morsel of its kind in night-club life. Olsen handles his trumpets better than any other jazz leader, according to our opinion, and his eccentric take-off on the overture to "Zampa" is an exquisite bit of tonal caprice. Johnny Hamp sways his wand over 14 musicians— and how ! We place him head and shoulders over his yokefellows when it comes to inspiring the call of the dance into thrilled heels, these feverish times. He is master of the lilting croon that parks so soothingly in one's heart. Just take a sedative draw at your cigarette while listening to his glee-club rendering of "Hollywood," and if you don't find yourself, in fancy, going up Janet Gaynor's seven pairs of steps to heaven, then you are surely a churl or a misanthrope. Johnny is proving a second Ted Lewis at the Cocoanut Grove, and has already installed himself as a staunch favorite with Col. Abe Frank's vast clientele. Earl Burtnett's Biltmore orchestra is the toast of mid-Los Angeles after-theatre patrons. His nightly radio effusions have become a vogue with music lovers. Coupled with his excellent orchestra is the Biltmore Trio, generally conceded as the cleverest lads in their peculiar line in the world. Earl's henchmen to a man fully believe that his Biltmore orchestra is unrivaled. Gus Arnheim, who enjoys an international celebrity in the jazz-band line, starts in next Monday night at Eddie Brandstatter's Montmartre. Gus's boys are still big favorites with the Cocoanut Grove patrons, many of whom fondly remember his wonderful work there, for a long time, some two years ago. Abe Lyman's lads are discoursing dulcet strains at Grauman's Chinese Theatre, where they are going over big. Many night-owl merrymakers who have danced to Abe's compelling music are still of the opinion that his band sizes up favorably with the best Los Angeles night-club rivalry, in the last year or so, and has culminated in a merry scramble of the powers that be to flash the world's best for their cafes. This has brought the world's six greatest orchestras here, and it begins to look that from now on the "Merry War of Melody" will bring a hectic contention among the leaders for the crown of supremacy. — ED O'MALLEY. tournament and narrowly avoided a tragedy. He was paired with Bill Gibbs. Bill drove a very high ball but it traveled only about fifty yards from the tee. This, not being punishment enough, was followed by a remark from Sharland. "Quite a lofty one, eh, Bill?" The studio ambulance, on hand for such emergencies, carried Sharland away. Later, when he had recovered consciousness, Sharland pondered vaguely on American golf etiquette. Somehow, in some manner, all of the foursomes got started. From then on it was every man for himself until the final check up of the scores took place. Then Marty Styer, official handicapper, came in for plenty of abuse. But who does like a handicapper? All in all, the tournament was a great success for everyone but the groundskeeper. He is the only one who will not forget the motion picture employees for some time to come.