Aeolian Vocalion

I can't take such a list of 'most American movies' seriously if it does not include the original "State Fair" (1933).

But I suppose if the notion is an America defined primarily by the angsty, raw-nerve, schizoid, grievance-obsessed America of the last few decades, the list probably works.

The 1930s seemed to be rough on blondes.

Three blonde comediennes I enjoy from that decade also died young, not making it out of the 1930s themselves:: Marjorie White, Thelma Todd, and Lyda Roberti.

I'm just glad my favorite 1930s blonde, Marian Marsh, managed to make it out alive, and live to a ripe old age.

Not in Baton Rouge, but the TG&Y store as a shopping destination was always one of my favorites as a kid. The toy section a big draw, but also the adjoining 'youth' book section along the wall. I was particularly entranced by the line of Big Little Books. I got several there, including ones of "Popeye," "The Lone Ranger," and "Lassie."

The store also sold those Little Golden Guide handbooks. There was a slew of those, covering subject-matter like Trees, Birds, Rocks and Minerals, Reptiles, etc. I still have several of these. Those were so fascinating to me at the time. There was also a related line of 'Golden Sticker Books,' which covered similar material. Each page had a singular topic with a line-drawn bit of artwork (to be colored), and a square at the bottom to apply the correct sticker. The volume on dinosaurs was one of my most treasured possessions when I was of kindergarten age.

Paxton could rob an Olive Garden, throw a kid in a lake, and pistol-whip Mother Theresa, and I'd still rush to give him my vote if he's running against a candidate pushing that crazed homo-tranny crap.

Adding a little context to my earlier post, I'm guessing it's a generational thing. My parents were young adults in the 1950s, and liked movies a lot. Audie Murphy westerns, Jane Wyman weepies, Louis Hayward costume adventures, etc. Pretty avid movie-goers. But by the 1960s, getting married, starting a family, working a busy job, etc., the visits to the moviehouse stopped entirely for them. A major factor also being television, which replaced that entertainment need. I observed this same pattern with many of my friends' families.

By the time the 1970s arrived, it's a totally different landscape. My parents (and their peers) seemed in a constant state of befuddlement. A ratings system? What the hell does GP/PG even mean? They'd see those grubby-looking newspaper ads for current films showing at the local theater... "Dog Day Afternoon," "Shaft's Big Score," "A Clockwork Orange," "Freebie and the Bean," and be both rather aghast and mystified. It all had such an unsavory tint, compared to what they had been accustomed to, just ten, fifteen years before, in their movie-going heyday. It was just a visceral turn-off for them. They never went to an R-rated movie, and only a precious few PG ones. I knew a lot of parents like this. As I mentioned, it wasn't that my parents were particularly religious or anything. It's just that they just didn't like skeezy stuff with characters cussing or smutty situations or crazy violence. They wouldn't sit through such material. The idea of them bringing their kids to an R-rated film would be beyond unthinkable. Total science-fiction..

But movie-going was still thought of as a normal part of kid life, with all the parents' fond recollections of saturday matinees and such. So, I'd be dropped off at the theater to see things like re-issues of "20,000 Leagues Beneath the Sea," "Treasure Island," "The 7th Voyage of Sinbad," and accompany friends to things like (the rather insufferable) "Willie Wonka" movie, or the "Pink Panther" films. Didn't see a PG-film until "The Eagle Has Landed" (1976), but went to quite a few after that. None of these were with my parents. They just dropped us off. Honestly, by the time I was in high-school and college, I hardly ever saw any films at the theater. Maybe once a year at most. There just wasn't much I found all that enticing. Plus, the theater-going experience lost a lot of its charm. I used to like the grand old-time theaters in my earlier visits. But, gradually those closed up, and I'd mostly encounter those dismal, crackerbox, hole-in-the-wall theaters found at shopping malls and such. I found those so incredibly dreary. Ultimately, I just got way more enjoyment sitting at home and watching the late-shows on television.

I have a 1988 printing of "The Fleischer Story" book by Leslie Cabarga, and it doesn't exactly sound like Betty Boop was based on the black Baby Esther performer. But this argument got thrown into the mix a few years after Betty's debut, when Helen Kane sued the Fleischers for appropriating her own 'boop-oop-a-doop' characterization, and the Fleischers and their lawyers dug up the Esther gal, who had purported done some boop-oop-a-doop singing a year before Helen Kane's recording skyrocketed her to national fame and a string of early-talkie movies. Fleischer animator Grim Narwick designed Betty's look (initially a 'dog' character), using a picture of Kane and her spit-curls on the cover of a piece of sheet music, in 1930. Kane was HUGE at that time, as a novelty performer. I think there is no doubt whatsoever that Betty Boop was patterned after Kane. Kane had merit in her lawsuit, but the big-pocketed lawyers that Fleischer and Paramount Studios had at their disposal allowed them to prevail, pushing this connection to the comparatively minor black singer.

Anyway, that whole boop-boop-a-doop bit was just part of that larger 'vo-do-do-de-o' singing that all the vocalists were doing at the time. Kane's big-selling record put it in the mainstream. I'm not a fan of it, and I find Kane's film appearances, circa 1929-30, less than endearing. But it was a big deal at that time, and directly influenced the Betty Boop character. It's ridiculous to argue otherwise.

Madge Bellamy's autobiography was actually published in the late-1980s, contrary to what the blurb says. I remember when it came out, and also recall her passing just a few months later, before she could really get around to any book signings and festival appearances. Another silent actress, Patsy Ruth Miller, had her book come out around the same time, and I was at least able to see and talk to her at a signing.

Bellamy's heyday was indeed the silents, but most folks nowadays are familiar with her from "White Zombie" (1932). But she can also be seen as leading lady in the Buck Jones western serial, "Gordon of Ghost City" (1933), which was released on blu-ray a few years back, along with the other Universal serials starring Jones, including the even better "The Red Rider" (1934).

The WB studio's propensity for zip and speed is why I love a lot of their programmers. Their delvings into hotsy-totsy pre-cord fare have a kind of potboiler tint, which can make them a mixed bag for me.

Paramount tended to push the envelope the furthest back then, but I think the studio's visual house-style, courtesy cinematographers like Karl Struss and Charles Lang, lent such an elegance that it couched some the more shocking and seedy outbursts. At least until they went entirely into the gutter with "The Search for Beauty" (1934).

I think the most interesting studio in that pre-code period is actually Fox studios. Lots of really, really weird stuff, like "The Warrior's Husband" (1933), "I Am Suzanne" (1934), "Face in the Sky" (1933), along with typical pre-code artifacts like the loopy "Sailor's Luck" (1933), along with "Call Her Savage" (1932), "Pleasure Cruise" (1933), "A Passport to Hell" (1932), and whatnot. And speaking of zippy, Fox one-ups WB with "The Trial of Vivienne Ware" (1932), which is done at such a breakneck speed it's almost disorienting. Cinematically, I'm often being convinced that Fox was a couple of years ahead of other studios, showing off more camera-angles, location work, and overall atmosphere. 1931 had several knockouts, like director William K. Howard's "Transatlantic" (1931), Henry King's "Over the Hill" (1931), and Raoul Walsh's "The Yellow Ticket" (1931). Eh, I'm rambling.

Nope, don't care for "Heroes for Sale" (1933). I never cared for WB's social-drama trend. It's pretty much the only little sub-genre of film that I done care for, the social-drama or 'message' movie. Give me crime dramas, westerns, comedies, costume adventures, musicals, romance films, jungle hokum, circus pictures, anything else. I'll even watch those creaky early-talkie operetta films, like WB's "Sweet Kitty Bellairs" (1930). But, I just don't like films where I get the feeling I'm listening to some screenwriter with an agenda standing on a soapbox and ranting at me. Not nearly as common in pre-war films as post, but 1930s WB sometimes waded in those waters.

According to my book, Warner Bros. made 52 movies in 1933. I've seen about 45 of them. I like most of them. Shame we'll never get to see the 'lost' "Convention City" (1933), though. Whatever the case, being able to see all those films so easily was thanks to Ted Turner's opening all those vaults, roughly forty years ago.

The sight of the milkman going through the neighborhood, going door-to-door, carrying a cart of milk, orange juice and cottage cheese

The sight of a spinner rack of comic-books at virtually every pharmacy, grocery store, and convenience store you'd enter.