The Dance of Life

"Skid" (Hal Shelly) is a journeyman Vaudeville performer who meets dancer "Bonny" (Nancy Carroll) on the circuit and they fall in love. They marry and make a go of things on the road until he gets spotted and next thing he's on Broadway whilst she keeps up with the daily grind. He proves to be a bit of an hit, and pretty quickly is reunited with ex-gal "Sylvia" (Dorothy Revier) who is soon sharing more than just the billing. When "Bonny" finds out she decides that two can play at that game, especially as she is being courted by a wealthy cattleman (Ralph Theodore). Despite his own ghastly behaviour, "Skid" can't bear the thought that she could be with someone else, and so takes rather heavily to the bottle. That slippery slope sees him fall from grace, and it seems his only hope is that "Bonny" might actually forgive him - but why should she? Will she? Fans of song and dance cinema will enjoy this, even though the embryonic production and some distinctly ropey choreography do leave them looking a bit rough round the edges. That said, though, there are still some good numbers here, like "True Blue Lou" to compensate for the well travelled rags to riches story that isn't so hot on the jeopardy front but it does shine a light on the fickleness of fame. This also has the benefit of quite seamlessly marrying the theatrical with the cinematic quite effectively, and though at times that doesn't always come off, the efforts from Shelly, Carroll and from Revier showcase just how multi-talented people had to be in the 1920s if they had any hope of making a living in this cutthroat business whilst still delivers plausible - if not always so likeable, characters. It is a bit routine, sure, but it has a watchable freshness and vitality to it, too.

Here's one of the early talkies that has been readily available to home video, but one I've avoided. An early musical, and yet another "backstage" plotline, this was something I've seen done so poorly elsewhere I suspected I'd wind up throwing things at my TV. [Have any of you anguished your way through the musical numbers of The Great Gabbo?] Happily, such was not the case. Here is a film totally accessible to contemporary audiences.

A big film in its time, Paramount popped for Technicolor and assigned it's two top directors, Cromwell and Sutherland. [The directors appear in cameos as doorman and theatre attendant, respectively.] Musical sequences are well done and entertain. Cringe factor on a one to five scale, one. The wonder of seeing the tall, lanky Skelly and diminutive Carroll dancing in perfect unison is still with me. They're the most unlikely team this side of Laurel and Hardy.

Many other splendid differences between this film and its contemporaries are worth noting. Released August, 1929, Paramount's superimposed credits seem so much more modern than the silent card graphics MGM still used. Not everyone cares to know who the associated producer is, we want entertained. Behind The Dance Of Life, silhouetted stage hands scurry about, pulling backdrops and riggings. You're treated to seeing behind the scenes while the obligatory texts play out. The ensemble cast has antagonists which prove to be red herrings. It's loaded with interesting camera compositions. A train is gained and quit at night in a pouring rainstorm. A sandwich is used as a romantic device. And what I enjoyed the most was the personal and up close feeling the directors give scenes. Skelly, after pratfalling from wing to wing, sings "True Blue Lou" so personally it would seem he was oblivious to the camera which closed in three times during the song.

A snapshot of a lost form of American entertainment, The Dance Of Life stands apart from its roots as a great film. See it!

The famous play, BURLESQUE, came to Hollywood following a successful Broadway run (372 performances at the Plymouth Theatre from Sept. 1, 1927 through July of the following year made it one of the biggest hits of the year) just at the cusp of when burlesque - which George Jessel had described as "the most family friendly" theatre form as straight vaudeville declined - was itself declining from the fine mix of sketch comedy and music into the girlie shows that would be banned by Mayor LaGuardia in the 1940's. Paramount apparently felt that decline as well as the universal quality of the story merited the name change to THE DANCE OF LIFE for their August 16, 1929 film release, but they also knew well how famous the original play had become as it toured around the nation, so the original name was prominently featured in all the advertising.

Protecting their investment further, four members of the original Broadway cast were recruited for the film version (the lead, Hal Skelly as "Skid", Ralph Theodore as Harvey, Charles D. Brown as Lefty and the great Oscar Levant in his first film role as Jerry the composer/pianist). Only the Broadway leading lady, Barbara Stanwyck as Bonny, Skid's lady love, was passed over for look-alike Nancy Carroll (rumor hath that Stanwyck's real life leading man declined to let her take the role unless he was hired too). Carroll was entirely fine in the role and Stanwyck followed to Hollywood shortly after.

The result for THE DANCE OF LIFE was one of the year's best films and the script, direction and cinematography hold up remarkably well after a little over 80 years, much better than some of the early full fledged "musicals" filmed at the time. This was not a traditional "musical" by Broadway or Hollywood standards, but a play in which a lot of music was intrinsic to the plot, and the musical numbers are as good a snapshot of what real live touring musical theatre looked like in 1929 as many an actual filmed musical show (like the Marx Brothers' COCOANUTS which was filmed at the end of its "subway circuit" tour out at the Astoria Studios in Astoria, Queens, New York). The borderline "beef trust" chorus girls marching in unison are a far cry from modern "choreography," but they breathe with the life of the world portrayed.

As good as the film is - and it is very good indeed, despite the often copied plot, remarkably faithful to the Broadway original, of the loyal girl protecting her talented but weak partner - no small credit is due to the superior cast. An Oscar Levant younger than most people today know him from his film roles of ten to twenty years later (THE BAND WAGON, opposite Nanette Fabray passing for a composer/lyricist team patterned after Betty Comden and Adolph Green is a classic), gives every indication of the indelible comic curmudgeon he would become, and Hal Skelly's Skid is a leading character actor for the ages. "Skid" would be a great performance in any age.

I haven't seen a naturalistic performance jump out of the more declamatory style performances around it with this much vivacity since Helen Hayes opposite Gary Cooper (three years later) in A FAREWELL TO ARMS. Hayes, of course, would go on to a brilliant career on stage and screen for another 50 years. Skelly might have, but after only a few more films and Broadway shows, while back East producing and starring in one of them (the ironically titled COME WHAT MAY) he lost his life when a car he was riding in was hit by a freight train in Connecticut. It was a greater loss to the stage and screen than those who have never seen his performance in this film (BURLESQUE was, with good reason, his greatest hit) can ever fathom.

I've never been able to find a copy of the brief VHS release noted elsewhere of the Paramount Picture, but until some wise soul finds a way to pry a pristine copy from the Paramount archives (one suspects the film may now be in the public domain if ANY copy could be found) to make it available to a new generation of film and theatre students who need to see the craft and passion involved, at least a decent copy can be viewed at Archive.org. It is essential viewing for any true student of the theatre or film. I'll be first in line to buy a copy when a DVD is available. Let's hope it's soon.

This was certainly not what I expected. I was delightfully surprised in just about every way. This film shows clearer than any I've seen the Vaudeville life and the acts in the last years. The sound was handled beautifully and the ending quite touching. Since I caught this where I could find it on You Tube, there were no sequences in color, alas, but everything else was precious, particularly the leads. It paved the way for so many subsequent "show must go on" movies and the phrase itself finally became cliché but this is pristine, sensitive and ultimately quite moving. I was also thankful that so many of the acts were filmed in their entirety, for historical as well as artistic reasons. The balance was perfect!

Curtis Stotlar

A vaudeville couple find that his meteoric rise begins to strain their relationship. The ill-fated Hal Skelly relies on an abundance of personality to overcome his lack of acting skills, but he and Nancy Carroll make a likable couple in this absorbing, bittersweet tale. Skelly's laidback rendition of True Blue Lou is a highlight not to be missed.