There were four great male pop singers during the 20th century and in chronological order they were Al Jolson, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, and Elvis Presley. They all excelled in singing love songs but two of them were gentlemen – Crosby and Presley – and two of them were tough guys – Jolson and Sinatra:

Al isn’t glaring at the camera in this production shot from WONDER BAR (1934). His scorn is directed towards an off-camera Ricardo Cortez who plays a gigolo in the story:

The New York premiere of THE SINGING KID in April 1936. Al is partially hidden behind the microphone while Mrs. Jack Oakie speaks into it as her husband looks on. On the left is none other than Ruth Roland, the serial queen of the silent screen. After retiring from films, Ruth made a fortune in real estate. No wonder she’s smiling!

Jolson played only one historical role in films – other than himself, that is. Al’s characterization of E.P. Christy, the minstrel man of the 19th century, won critical praises and stole the show. That’s Don Ameche as Stephen Foster and Andrea Leeds as his long-suffering wife in the Technicolor production, SWANEE RIVER (1939):

Jolson was active in the Republican Party during the 1920s, campaigning for Warren Harding and even writing a song for him. Here Al visits President Calvin Coolidge at the White House in October 1924:

Al was a sportsman and proudly displays his day’s catch:

A deleted scene from ROSE OF WASHINGTON SQUARE (1939), a nostalgic musical of the 1920s, which even in 1939 seemed like a long time ago:

Al and his third wife Ruby Keeler in 1929, singing songs over the air to promote his new film, SAY IT WITH SONGS:

After Broadway and Hollywood, Jolson became a major radio star during the 1930s and thereafter. But what’s the point in talking about Al – let’s listen to him. Click below to hear the Colgate Tooth Powder Show of January 5, 1943. Right smack in the middle of the Second World War, this show has plenty of jokes to keep up morale in dealing with the wartime challenges of rationing and shortages. Broadcast live from New York City, Al’s guest, Monty Woolley (The Man Who Came To Dinner) was such a hit that he became a regular on the show. Al performs a terrific medley of George Gershwin songs at the end:

If you see only two identical images of Myrna and no 3D effect, then you either need to use a viewer device or learn the simple knack of “free viewing.” The easiest way to obtain a viewer is to find one of the many books on old stereoscopic slides because these volumes include a simple fold-up plastic or cardboard viewer. Check your public library. Your blogmeister dispenses with using viewers (the “training wheels” of 3D) and relies on the technique of free viewing using only, pardon the expression, my naked eyes. Let’s give the 3D treatment to Rudolph Valentino in MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE (1924):

To try free viewing, you need to guide each eye to focus on only one of the two images: the right eye on the right image, the left eye on the left image. At first your eyes won’t cooperate so by using the edge of your hand extended from your forehead to the tip of your nose, your hand will block the right eye from seeing the left image and vice versa with the left eye. A piece of cardboard or a business envelope will work as well as your hand. The next step is to relax and look “through” the images and you will notice (with a little patience) that the images start moving together to form one image. Once they fully merge you’re in 3D. Try it with Myrna and Rudy (each should line up easily) or give Strongheart and Lady Julie below (circa 1925) a try:

You’ll want to experiment with moving the images, i.e., the screen, anywhere from 9 to 13 inches from your eyes until the images start moving together. Also, smaller image size works easier than larger sizes so you if the images are not fully merging together, adjust your screen to make the images smaller. After a little trial and error, you’ll find a size and a focal length that works for you. Here is a photo that begged for 3D – Lon Chaney Sr. as Quasimodo in THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME (1923):

Once you’ve experienced the 3D effect of free viewing, you’ll know what to look for and subsequent 3D images will come through faster. Here, the Russian Revolution is about the break out in TEMPEST (1928) but Louis Wolheim (top) and John Barrymore find time to horse around in this photo that seems designed for 3D:

This photo has a lovely scenic perspective that enhances a 3D view – June Collyer and George Arliss on the set of ALEXANDER HAMILTON (1931) wait for nightfall to film an outdoor scene:

Since today (April 1st) is Lon Chaney’s birthday (1883), here he is again with Norma Shearer in HE WHO GETS SLAPPED (1924), the very first film produced by the then-newly organized Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Shearer and Chaney remained top stars at MGM, Norma until her retirement in 1942, and Lon until his death in 1930:

It may be unkind to note that W.C. Fields’ nose always seemed to be in 3D even in 2D photos. At any rate, here’s an unusual portrait of Mr. Fields sporting a middle eastern look:

Gloria Swanson and her co-star Rudolph Valentino pause in filming a scene for BEYOND THE ROCKS (1922). This film represents the only pairing of these two iconic stars and was considered a “lost” work for decades until a nearly-complete print turned up in the Netherlands just a few years ago and is now on DVD. Ironically, this scene below was among the missing footage in the rediscovered print:

This striking portrait of Lon Chaney in character for SHADOWS (1922) seems to anticipate 3D:

Clara Bow personified the “Roaring Twenties” perhaps more than anyone else. She was dubbed the “It Girl” and everybody under 90 knew what that referred to, and maybe people over 90 too. Some of her films were considered risque but her studio, Paramount, cancelled her contract in 1931 – even after her successful transition to talkies – when her private life was found to be racier than her films:

Finally, before Hepburn & Tracy, Lombard & Gable, or Rogers & Astaire, there was Garbo & Gilbert, that is Greta Garbo and John Gilbert. They ignited the screen in films such as FLESH AND THE DEVIL, LOVE (both 1927), A WOMAN OF AFFAIRS (1928), and the talkie QUEEN CHRISTINA (1933). Not surprisingly, they were lovers in real life, at least for a time in the late 1920s. Here is an iconic image of them from FLESH AND THE DEVIL given both the color and the 3D treatment:

Future posts here will continue to be in color (the raison d’etre for this site) but we’ll be more sparing in using 3D. The stereographic effect is more welcome as a novelty from time to time than as a constant component of photos, or movies for that matter. Perhaps those folks back in Old Hollywood knew this all along.

Gloria Swanson was one of the greatest stars of the 1920s and her transition to talkies was not only successful but revealed her excellent singing voice. However, times were changing quickly in the early 1930s and the fickle public shifted its attention to newer attractions. La Swanson produced her own films and by 1934 she realized it was time to move on to other pursuits. But she was never gone from the public scene for very long, which may explain her spectacular return to films in SUNSET BLVD. in 1950. Here is Gloria making a very early broadcast circa 1928:

Let’s join Gloria as guest on Eddie Cantor’s show on March 9, 1938. This being a live broadcast, the performers keep rolling, mistakes and all:

Now for something completely different. Conrad Veidt was one of the most popular international stars during the silent film era, first gaining notice in the groundbreaking THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI (1919). Connie, as he was called, traveled from Germany to Hollywood in 1926 at the request of John Barrymore, who wanted him to play the crafty King Louis XI in Barrymore’s new epic, THE BELOVED ROGUE (1927). Here is an original autographed portrait of Connie taken about the same time:

Veidt returned to his native Germany in 1929 where he continued his career, by then starring in sound films, until he fled his homeland in 1933 with the rise of Hitler. His career continued uninterrupted in Britain, though he struggled mightily to learn English, and eventually returned to Hollywood in 1940 where he donated most of his earnings to the American and British war effort. One of his most impressive films at that time was A WOMAN’S FACE (1941) with Joan Crawford in the title role:

Connie said that this film was his favorite, even more so than CALIGARI, and described his role as “Satan in a tuxedo.” The public agreed because he was asked to recreate his film role not once but twice on radio. Here is the first broadcast, a half-hour version from April 19, 1942, with Bette Davis playing the Joan Crawford role, and Bette’s old co-star from her early days at Warner Bros., Warren William. All three stars donated their salaries to the Motion Picture Relief Fund:

The great director D.W. Griffith was rarely heard on radio but made an exception when another great director, Cecil B. DeMille, asked him to appear on DeMille’s show, Lux Radio Theater. The 1930s were a difficult time for Griffith although he was regarded by the film industry as the most influential of the pioneer filmmakers. He was given a special Academy Award but would have much preferred to be given a film to direct instead. No doubt he would have been pleased with this commemorative stamp issued in his honor decades later:

Let’s join D.W. on June 29, 1936 as Cecil B. DeMille welcomes him:

Marion Davies is remembered today as the mistress of publishing tycoon William Randolph Hearst, and as the inspiration for the character of Susan Alexander, the untalented mistress of Orson Welles’ CITIZEN KANE (1941). Welles would spend his later years explaining that he felt Marion Davies was one of the most talented stars of Hollywood, in both silent and sound films, and he made the Susan Alexander character untalented so nobody could claim that she was suppose to be Marion, but alas, it didn’t work out that way.

Let’s hear Cecil B. DeMille again as he converses with Marion Davies and Brian Aherne at the conclusion of the November 29, 1937 Lux broadcast of PEG O’ MY HEART that Marion had made as a film in 1931. I believe this broadcast turned out to be her last professional appearance, after having made what proved to be her final film earlier in the year. Also, it was said that Marion spoke with a stammer, something that was never heard in any of her sound films. However, you can hear that she is having some difficulty getting through her scripted remarks:

Finally, we have not one but two Barrymores, John and Lionel. The brothers started making films back in 1912 and possibly earlier, to supplement their theater earnings. By the 1920s, the Barrymore Brothers were starring on the New York stage and in big budget films too, although they worked separately during the silent era. Here is one of their joint stage appearances in 1919 in THE JEST, which F. Scott Fitzgerald immortalized in his first novel, This Side of Paradise.

John in one of his spectacular swashbucklers of the silent screen:

The talkies held no fear for either Lionel or John, in fact Lionel directed as well as starred in them. Alas, this talkie comedy from 1930, with John and a very young Loretta Young, is lost:

By the early 1940s each of the Barrymore Brothers had his own weekly radio show but Lionel also made guest appearances on John’s Sealtest Show, which headlined Rudy Vallee, who was responsible for hiring John for the show:

The Sealtest Show was a slapstick comedy series where the stars and guests were satirized. But just to let listeners know it was all in fun, John and Lionel took time out to perform a scene from Shakespeare’s RICHARD III. Here Rudy Vallee introduces the scene on the May 1, 1941 broadcast:

I passed over shows with all-but-forgotten silent screen stars such as Bert Lytell and Aileen Pringle but just let your ol’ blogmeister know of any requests. And thanks for stopping by.

In those days the craft of acting included the ability to credibly portray characters of different nationalities or ethnic origins, and even different races. We are much more parochial today about these things but Warner Oland was the first actor to successfully portray a Chinese hero in American films. How successful? He starred in seventeen Charlie Chan films at 20th Century-Fox from 1931 through 1937 (technically, 18 films if we count an uncompleted one begun in January 1938 but abandoned as Warner’s health deteriorated).

Boris Karloff co-starred with Warner in CHARLIE CHAN AT THE OPERA (1936)

Warner had already established himself in a variety of ethnic roles during the silent film era, most notably as Cantor Rabinowitz in THE JAZZ SINGER (1927). He also impersonated an Austrian Archduke in the lavish DON Q, SON OF ZORRO (1925):

DON JUAN (1926), the first feature film to use synchronized sound, had Warner in the historical role of Cesare Borgia. Here is Warner on the DON JUAN set with Montagu Love on the right, and seated left to right, Helene Costello, Estelle Taylor, and Myrna Loy:

Elaborately costumed as an unscrupulous Frenchman in WHEN A MAN LOVES (1927):

By 1929, sound films revealed Warner to have a rich and soulful voice. Here he plays an American gangster in THE MIGHTY (1929) with Raymond Hatton (standing) and George Bancroft:

By 1931, Warner switched tracks from villain to hero with CHARLIE CHAN CARRIES ON, one of four lost Chans. The film became an unexpected hit and the second film in the series, THE BLACK CAMEL (also 1931), was actually filmed in Hawaii. Here, Warner looks as menacing towards Dorothy Revier as Bela Lugosi in THE BLACK CAMEL:

Offscreen, Warner was a doting papa to his schnauzer Raggedy Ann:

Back at work, Warner takes time out for a Ouija Board on the set of CHARLIE CHAN’S SECRET (1936), a story that involved spiritualism and seances:

Producer John Stone (left) confers with director H. Bruce Humberstone as Warner and William Demerest listen on the set of CHARLIE CHAN AT THE OPERA (1936):

Two visiting Chinese doctors on their way to Johns Hopkins in Baltimore stop by the set of OPERA to check Warner’s pulse:

Author Earl Derr Biggers wrote six Chan novels and based Charlie Chan on a real life Honolulu detective named Chang Apana. Warner met Apana when he was in Hawaii filming THE BLACK CAMEL. It’s worth noting that Warner Oland admired Charlie Chan because the character had many qualities that Warner lacked. Chan was a non-smoker and a teetotler whereas Warner was a heavy smoker and (later) a heavy drinker. Chan had eleven children but Warner, who liked kids, was childless. Eventually, Warner remained in the character of Chan even when not filming and signed his name on legal documents as Chan.

Keye Luke played Chan’s son Lee in several of the later Oland entries in the series, here in OPERA. The two actors became good friends offscreen:

Celebrity-endorsed products are nothing new. Here is Warner and apparently Charlie Chan recommending the new 1938 Desoto:

Today, many of Warner’s films, silent and sound, are readily available on DVD including all of his surviving Charlie Chans.

In any event, here is Caruso in 1916 singing “O Holy Night” in French, as only he could sing it:

Alma Gluck (1884-1938) was one of the great sopranos of the Golden Age of Opera, which began about the time of her birth and continued through to the First World War (1914-1918). Alma has no direct connection with Old Hollywood, but she was the mother of actor Efrem Zimbalist Jr. (TV’s “77 Sunset Strip” and “The FBI”) and grandmother of actress Stephanie Zimbalist.

Listen to Alma Gluck in 1913 singing Gounod’s “Ave Maria” with her husband, violinist Efrem Zimbalist Sr.

Tenor John McCormack (1884-1945) was one of the most popular figures in the history of opera. His career at the Met coincided with Caruso’s during the 1910s, then he went on the concert stage singing both opera and popular songs, a rare thing even for an opera singer today. McCormack’s records were best sellers and when sound films arrived in 1929, Fox hurried to star him in SONG O’ MY HEART (1930). Fox even held a nation-wide contest so fans could vote for the songs they wanted McCormack to sing in the film.

Here John McCormack in 1915 sings “Adestes Fideles” with his distinctive Irish brough heard even in Latin:

Sigrid Onegin (1889-1943) was a contralto who was considered the natural successor to Ernestine Schumann-Heink, which is saying a lot. As far as we can tell, Sigrid had no connection to Old Hollywood but after listening to her you may well feel that she should have.

Sigrid’s rendition here of Mozart’s “Alleljah” in this 1928 recording is superb:

You would never guess from this photo of the young Giovanni Martinelli (1885-1969) that he was one of the bon vivants of his era. He made his debut in 1910 and sang his last performance at the age of 80 in 1966. Many music critics considered Martinelli the successor of Caruso during the 1920s and both tenors possessed a gregarious personality as well as stunning voices.

From 1926, Martinelli sings “Gese Bambino”:

Ernestine Schumann-Heink (1861-1936) made her opera debut at the age of 17 in 1879 and became the greatest contralto of her era. Her first starring role occurred by chance when the Hamburg (Germany) Opera asked Schumann-Heink to sing the title role in Bizet’s “Carmen” without any rehearsals. She was a hit and the following night she was asked to sing in another opera without rehearsal. On the third night Schumann-Heink was offered a principal role in Wagner’s “Lohengrin,” again with no rehearsals. On this basis, she was offered a ten-year contract. She debuted at the Met in 1898 and continued there through 1932. Schumann-Heink also appeared in movies and radio. This photo of her is from the 1935 film, HERE’S TO ROMANCE:

“Mother” Schumann-Heink, as she was called, first sang “Silent Night” over the radio in 1926 and it became a Christmas tradition that she sang each year at the stroke of Midnight. In a previous post, we offered her speaking on her 1934 radio program before singing this carol. Here is her famous 1926 Victor recording:

It may be that Christmas this year will be more somber than usual. As our thoughts and prayers are with the families in Newtown, Connecticut, perhaps this post may be an appropriate reminder of the true meaning of Christmas.

President Franklin Roosevelt and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill:

First let’s begin our trip back in time by returning to December 24, 1940, as FDR concludes his Christmas greetings by making a suggestion involving the White House Christmas Tree that has been followed to this day:

Christmas 1941 was unlike any before or since. Barely two weeks earlier the United States was suddenly thrust into the Second World War, which had been raging in Europe for two years already. America had been officially neutral but all that changed when the Empire of Japan attacked the U.S. Pacific Naval Fleet at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, on the morning of December 7, 1941. Outwardly, the 1941 Holiday season seemed the same as past years but everyone knew that the New Year would bring dramatic changes in their lives as the nation converted to a war footing.

None were fated to be more affected than popular bandleader Glenn Miller, who would be lost flying over the English Channel just days before Christmas 1944. Of all the celebrity war casualties such as Leslie Howard and Ernie Pyle, none would be mourned more than Miller. So let’s return to Christmas Eve 1941 to hear Glenn and his band broadcasting live on his bi-weekly 15-minute Chesterfield Time:

Of the younger generation, perhaps the most popular circa 1940 were Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney (it is remarkable that Mickey is still with us for Christmas 2012!). Judy was known for a lot more than THE WIZARD OF OZ, and Mickey was more versatile than his numerous ANDY HARDY films would suggest (which also co-starred Judy).

Typical of that time, their many radio appearances were scripted and rehearsed but we found a fascinating 15 minutes that is unscripted and quite spontaneous as Judy and Mickey provide commentary on the Christmas Parade along Hollywood Boulevard. We are guessing that the event is likely Christmas 1940, which means that Judy is all of 18 years old and Mickey is 20. Given their tender ages, it is surprising how articulate they are as they exchange greetings with their fans:

Lionel Barrymore (grand uncle of Drew Barrymore) seemed to own Christmas from the mid-1930s to the mid-1950s with his annual portrayal on the air of Ebeneezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens’ A CHRISTMAS CAROL. Even now, it is easy to surf the web and hear several different performances of Lionel as Scrooge.

But here at OHIC we give you Lionel Barrymore in A MODERN SCROOGE that was presented by the U.S. Treasury on Christmas Eve 1942 with Fredric March in support. Think of Scrooge if he had lived during WWII America and asked to buy War Bonds, and you’ll have the basic idea behind this energetic little play:

Jack Benny didn’t exactly “own” Christmas the way Lionel Barrymore did, but the holiday spirit of gift-giving conflicted perfectly with his cheapskate character. Year after year from about 1934 through the 1970s, a Jack Benny Christmas Show meant an unsentimentalized treatment of the holidays from a tightwad’s viewpoint.

Trying to select one Benny show from among the decades is difficult because there’s not a clinker in the lot. But the holiday broadcasts from 1938 are particularly caustic and this particular one from December 11, 1938 is a classic of sarcasm. Besides Jack, the show’s regulars are announcer Don Wilson, Mary Livingston (who was Jack’s wife in real life but plays a sort of gal Friday on the show), bandleader Phil Harris (who developed into a very fine comedian), and of course, Eddie “Rochester” Anderson, who gets the biggest laughs of all. It is to Jack’s eternal credit that he didn’t care who got the big laughs on his show as long as there were big laughs:

Let’s conclude this visit to Christmas Past with something truly rare. Long before Barrymore as Scrooge or Benny as a gift-giving cheapskate helped to define the Holiday season, it seemed that Christmas did not officially arrive until Madame Ernestine Schumann-Heink sang “Silent Night” at the stroke of Midnight. This Austrian-Czech contralto was considered one of the finest opera singers of her day – in the 19th century! She was popularly called Mother Schumann-Heink because she had seven children (by three husbands!) and one stepson. She became an American citizen in 1905, but had sons fighting on both the American side and the German side during the First World War (1914-1918). Her loyalties were unabashedly American and she sang tirelessly at the camps throughout that war.

By the 1920s, the radio networks would combine and across the land at Midnight on December 25th was heard the distinctive voice of Mother Schumann-Heink singing “Stille Nacht” like an angel from on high. She even had her own weekly radio show in 1934 (sponsored by Gerber Baby Foods, of course) where at the age of 73 she handed out lots of advice to her listeners between songs. Many people who lived back then felt that Christmas was never the same after her passing in 1936 but we like to think that she would be pleased to know we can still hear her proclaim Peace on Earth in the 21st Century:

On the DRACULA set, Bela Lugosi greets Horace Liveright who produced the Broadway play version that brought stardom to Lugosi. The film’s director Tod Browning stands to the left of Bela:

Boris Karloff has survived the rigors of makeup and costuming as he checks the script before filming a scene for THE MUMMY (1932):

But nothing was as arduous as sitting for hours as makeup artist Jack Pierce literally made a Monster out of Boris. Judging by the status, I’d say they were only at the beginning of the procedure:

By contrast, Bela Lugosi’s greatest makeup challenge as Dracula was to make himself look as handsome as possible:

The boys would vary their horror film appearances with an occasional non-horror movie where they still gave audiences the creeps. Here Bela Lugosi as a medium matches wits with Warner Oland as Charlie Chan in THE BLACK CAMEL (1931), the only Charlie Chan movie filmed on location in Hawaii. Bela and Warner are standing in the lobby of the Royal Hawaiian Hotel:

Boris Karloff plays an anti-Semitic Prussian nobleman whom George Arliss has outwitted in THE HOUSE OF ROTHSCHILD (1934):

Colin Clive as Dr. Frankenstein shares a tea and cigarette break with Boris on the set of BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935):

It was inevitable that Boris and Bela would be teamed, but the real surprise is that they worked very well together. The first and arguably the best of their co-starring vehicles is THE BLACK CAT (1934), a film that had nothing to do with Edgar Allan Poe, and almost nothing to do with cats either:

Their third pairing is a personal favorite of your blogmeister, THE INVISIBLE RAY (1936), a stylish sci-fi yarn that seamlessly blended in the Gothic horror elements of their earlier films. Here Dr. Karloff has been poisoned by his discovery of Radium X, and appeals to Dr. Lugosi for help. You just know this will turn out badly:

These guys seem to be holding their own Halloween party. On the set of SON OF FRANKENSTEIN (1939) they are really celebrating Boris’ birthday – from left to right, Boris, director Rowland V. Lee, Bela, and Basil Rathbone:

Halloween Bonus! Hear Boris Karloff and John Carradine on INFORMATION PLEASE, a live and unrehearsed radio show exactly as broadcast on February 20, 1942:

First, let’s look at, well, really listen to, three silent stars who never made any talkies. Strange to say, as talkies supplanted the silents beginning in 1928 and finishing the job by 1929, some stars just walked away from their fame and fortune. Some like Constance Talmadge had become independently wealthy while others married into money or went into business, especially southern California real estate. Perhaps the most famous of early screen stars – we’re referring to the 1910s – was Theda Bara, the movies’ first sex goddess or “Vampire” as they were called then:

Theda’s name is supposedly an anagram for “Arab Death” but I have no idea of its significance. Her real name was Theodosia Goodman and by all accounts, she was nobody’s fool. Here’s an effective study of light and shadow:

By now you’re probably wondering how Bara came by her reputation, at least based on these two photos. OK, here’s one of the most iconic photos of Theda Bara from the lost film, CLEOPATRA (1917):

Now that we’ve been properly introduced, just click below to hear Theda Bara on the November 9, 1939 broadcast of Texaco Star Theater. You’ll hear host Ken Murray, comedian Irene Ryan (who later played Granny on TV’s “Beverly Hillbillies”), and singer Kenny Baker who asks Theda a very good question:

William S. Hart was film’s iconic cowboy star in the 1910s into the early 20s. A New York stage-trained actor – he played Messala in BEN-HUR in 1899 – he transferred his genuine love of the West into a lucrative movie career as a star, writer, producer and director:

Bill Hart retired before talkies came in but he recorded a beautifully spoken prologue to his last film, TUMBLEWEEDS (1926) when he reissued it in 1939.

But Hart occasionally made an appearance on radio in the 1930s to recite his own poem, “Pinto Ben.” Here is Rudy Vallee introducing him on the December 13, 1934 broadcast of the Fleischmann’s Hour:

Mae Murray was a Ziegfeld Follies dancer who enjoyed a successful film career from the mid-1910s through the 1920s:

Mae can be easiest described as a successor to Theda Bara although instead of having an exotic sort of mystique like Bara, Mae was a straightforward American gal with a frank sex appeal:

By now you probably want to see one of Mae Murray’s iconic photos to understand her appeal of nearly a century ago:

Like Theda Bara, Mae never made a talkie so her appearance on the December 6, 1939 Texaco Star Theater is likewise remarkable. Host Ken Murray gets in some laughs by the fact that he and Mae have the same last name:

Rudolph Valentino was the super star of such silents as THE SHEIK (1921), BLOOD AND SAND (1922), and MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE (1924) among many other hits.

Sadly, Rudy didn’t live to make a talkie but he was broadcasting in 1923, long before most of his movie star colleagues were.

None of Rudy’s broadcasts were recorded but he did make two commercial recordings in 1923, thus preserving his singing voice.

At any rate, he carries a nice tune and the timbre of his voice at least suggests that Rudy had a good chance of success in the talkies:

Mary Astor was still in her teens when she played leading lady opposite such celebrities as John Barrymore and Douglas Fairbanks Sr. She is all of 17 here in BEAU BRUMMEL (1924):

By the 1940s it seemed that Mary Astor had been around forever although she was still a relatively young woman. She transitioned superbly to sound films, so much so that many people would forget that once she was a silent film star. She ably added radio broadcasting to her list of accomplishments:

We’re in luck because next we have a complete performance by Mary in the popular half-hour suspense show called, well, “Suspense” that was broadcast live on February 16, 1943:

Lillian Gish’s career in silent films preceded everyone else listed here, having made her first films in 1912 working for director D.W. Griffith. And she was still starring in films through 1987 with THE WHALES OF AUGUST.

Lillian made her best-remembered films during the 1920s such as WAY DOWN EAST (1920), ORPHANS OF THE STORM (1921), both directed by D.W. Griffith, THE WHITE SISTER (1923), LA BOHEME (1926), THE SCARLET LETTER (1926), and THE WIND (1928), among many others.

Gish made her first talkie in 1930, ONE ROMANTIC NIGHT, but didn’t care for the new medium. She moved to New York where she continued her career in the theater, on radio, and occasionally, in films such as DUEL IN THE SUN (1946), and eventually on television. Among her more unusual broadcast appearances are as a guest panelist on the popular quiz show, “Information Please.” No, Lillian wasn’t slumming because only the brightest and best of celebrities were permitted to appear on the show. Here is Lillian Gish on the October 11, 1938 live broadcast of “Information Please”:

We have barely scratched the surface of exploring silent stars on radio. Perhaps in a future post we can hear from Gloria Swanson, Norma Talmadge, Richard Barthelmess, John Barrymore, Conrad Veidt, and even D.W. Griffith. Do you have any requests?

This all-star broadcast is kicked off by newspaper columnist Walter Winchell who turns over the proceedings to master of ceremonies Al Jolson. Among the legendary entertainers you’ll hear are Ethel Merman, Sophie Tucker, Eddie Cantor, Connie Boswell, Paul Whiteman, and Tommy Dorsey. The show then switches gears when movie mogul Darryl Zanuck presents a radio preview of ALEXANDER’S RAGTIME BAND with its stars Tyrone Power, Alice Faye and Ethel Merman. All of this was performed live to millions of listeners on the evening of August 3, 1938, so if you want to join the party just click below and within five seconds you’ll be transported back in time to spend a full hour in Old Hollywood:

The following are thumbnail sketches of some of the celebrities appearing on the broadcast. Irving Berlin and Al Jolson went a long way back. Both became famous by 1911: Al popularized Irving’s songs and Irving’s songs helped make Jolie a star. Here they are golfing in 1929:

Sophie Tucker was known as “The Last of the Red Hot Mamas” during her career that lasted over a half century and spanned vaudeville to television:

Eddie Cantor and Al Jolson were friendly competitors both professionally and personally, on the stage, in movies, on radio and in vying to be the first to sing Berlin’s new songs. Listen to their ad-lib arguing while singing with Irving Berlin:

Irving takes the stars of ALEXANDER’S RAGTIME BAND through their paces prior to filming: Alice Faye, Tyrone Power and Don Ameche, who grew a mustache for the film. All three were newly-minted stars with only a couple of hit films behind them. No doubt they are genuinely happy to have the composer onboard their new film:

Sheet music was a popular movie tie-in during the days of Old Hollywood. See the movie, go home and play the songs on your piano – an all but forgotten way of interacting with the film:

Connee Boswell was part of the successful Boswell Sisters but when her two siblings decided to retire in 1936, she continued alone and became one the best female jazz vocalists of her era. Unknown to the public, Connee was wheelchair-bound, not unlike President Franklin Roosevelt. She originally spelled her first name as “Connie” but later changed it to “Connee” because it made signing autographs easier:

Bandleader Paul Whiteman was a big figure, literally and figuratively, in American music during much of the first half of the 20th century. He commissioned George Gershwin to write “Rhapsody in Blue” and Ferde Grofe to compose “Grand Canyon Suite,” championed jazz as a serious form of music when it was commonly dismissed as degenerate, and through his concerts, broadcasts and recordings introduced the public to Bing Crosby, Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey, Red Nichols, Mildred Bailey, Bix Beiderbecke, Hoagy Carmichael, and many others:

Darryl Zanuck receives the very first Irving G. Thalberg Memorial Award during the Academy Awards ceremony in March 1938. Silent screen star and producer Douglas Fairbanks Sr. is the presenter. This special “Oscar” is still given each year to honor outstanding film executives. The legendary Thalberg had died over a year earlier; Doug Fairbanks would die the following year and Hollywood would never be quite the same:

ALEXANDER’S RAGTIME BAND is readily available on dvd and is one of the most enjoyable musicals of the 1930s.

Bonus: Irving Berlin was inducted into the Friars Club in 1911 and, in lieu of the customary speech, he wrote and sang a very funny song just for the occasion. It was such a hit that Irving was persuaded to privately record the song on January 24, 1914. Here it is performed by the composer himself:

Before there was Hollywood, there was Broadway. And the most influential shows on the Great White Way that would have a profound influence on films were the incredible annual productions of the Ziegfeld Follies that were produced from 1907 through 1931. I’m referring to the original shows from the creative genius of Florenz “Flo” Ziegfeld, Jr., himself.

Film buffs will know that MGM made three impressive films around the Follies: the biopic extravaganza, THE GREAT ZIEGFELD (1936), starring William Powell in the title role; THE ZIEGFELD GIRL (1941) starring Judy Garland, Lana Turner and Hedy Lamarr; and the Technicolor delight, THE ZIEGFELD FOLLIES (1946). Mr. Ziegfeld also got into film production during the early talkie era with GLORIFYING THE AMERICAN GIRL (1929) and co-producing (with Sam Goldwyn) his stage hit WHOOPEE (1930), starring Eddie Cantor.

Ever the showman and entrepreneur, Ziegfeld creatively continued producing the Follies – on radio! In 1932, the entire nation could attend the Ziegfeld Follies on the Air, as the new show was called. Without further ado, let’s celebrate our 20,000 mark by hearing this live half hour broadcast from New York City on April 10, 1932. The talent lined up for this show include the legendary songstress Helen Morgan, dialect comedian Jack Pearl, and Leon Errol re-enacting his role in a scene from SALLY, a Ziegfeld hit of 1920. Of course, you’ll hear Mr. Ziegfeld himself who is on hand to welcome you:

No, he doesn’t look much like William Powell but “Ziggy,” as his friends called him, had a personality to make up for any deficiency in looks. We catch a glimpse of that commanding persona in his radio remarks.

Helen Morgan, the beautiful but ill-fated star of Ziegfeld’s landmark production, SHOW BOAT in 1927. Helen would repeat her role as Julie in the 1936 film version of SHOW BOAT:

Leon Errol was a funny man for all seasons, transitioning very nicely from performing and directing in the theater during the teens and 20s, to starring in movies during the 1930s and 40s. He would never be confused with, say, Chaplin, but he was a master of slapstick and could be relied on to keep audiences rolling in the aisles. In films he worked well with stars such as Ethel Merman and Lupe Velez, and even his old Follies sidekick, W.C. Fields. But Leon seemed to know when to hold back for his co-stars and when he could let loose:

Our radio broadcast includes a wonderful scene from SALLY, which made Marilynn Miller into a Broadway star. It didn’t hurt Leon Errol either:

The ZIEGFELD FOLLIES OF THE AIR ran through June 1932 and ended when Ziegfeld died suddenly of a lung infection in July – remember, those were the days before antibiotics. Today, Florenz Ziegfeld is largely remembered for three films bearing his name.

BONUS: listen to the 1936 radio trailer for THE GREAT ZIEGFELD: