Had to pinch myself to see if I wasn't dreaming - just a mighty opening - Broadway, that monolithic monster chewing up all the hopes and dreams while daring the dreamers to come on in!! It was Universal's big special production of the year and Laemmle Jr. spent over a million to bring Phillip Dunning's and George Abbott's hit drama to the silver screen. Laemmle commissioned a huge Art Deco night club set, 70 feet high and a city block wide which replaced the small, intimate cabaret of the play. Paul Fejo is the real star - he designed a crane to give the camera fluidity of movement and travel from every angle.The musical numbers are secondary to the story and while, with countless imitations, it is as familiar as an old shoe, back in 1929 it was fresh and exciting. Even in 1929 the imitators started in with movies like "Broadway Babies" and "Broadway Hoofer" but as one contemporary commentator said "all they could steal were stones from the mountain, the mountain itself remained"!!Mordaunt Hall may have declared that Lee Tracy was a far better Roy Lane but Glenn Tryon was pretty good and he was comfortable with dialogue. He played Lane, a song and dance man in the Paradise Club who leads the chorus girls through their paces while waiting for a lucky break that is going to propel him and his partner Billie Moore to the big time - or at least "Chambersburg and Pottsville"!! "Hitting the Ceiling" and "Broadway" are the show stopping tunes but the real action takes place behind the scenes. Sweet Billie (Merna Kennedy, fresh from Chaplin's "The Circus") - she does tend to slow the story down a bit with her mushy "you wouldn't kid me would you" and "I'm for you , you know I am"!! She is being romanced by slick bootlegger Steve Crandall. As played by Robert Ellis he seems to have genuine feelings for her, calling her "little fella" and "I'd murder for you" but with his gang he is all business and it is the murder of Scar Edwards (Leslie Fenton), shot in the back that brings about his downfall.Thomas Jackson who repeated his role as the laconic detective Dan McCorn was singled out for high praise. His distinctive, dead pan delivery soon had him typecast as a stone faced law man in films such as "Little Caesar" etc. Evelyn Brent was also given good notices and for me she gave one of the best performances. She was Pearl, a tough chorine who has a good reason for wanting Crandall bought to justice.So different from a lot of the early talkies - actors play and recite their dialogue as though they mean it and the slang and the wisecracks must have enthralled movie goers at the time. "Weisenheimer", "swell fella", "four flusher", "if a Jane I'd pinned all my hopes on was going to Hell" and as one chorus cutie wisecracks when told to put on a happy face for the customers "smile at 'em? - we can hardly keep from laughing at 'em". And in cutting pre-code put down "If I've ever seen a professional virgin, she's it"!!!Highly Recommended!!

I finally saw this film after hearing about it for years. It has good photography for an early talkie, the art deco settings and the imaginative costumes are lovely to behold, and the acting and direction in the dialog scenes are putrid. Paul Fejos may have been a great visual director in silents, and, as I say, this film does have good visuals, but there are so many bad dialogue scenes, mainly by the men involved, that this becomes just another bad early talkie. Evelyn Brent, whom I admired so much in THE SILVER HORDE, has little to do here but scowl in her performance. Betty Francisco, as Mazie, comes off best of the females. None of the men turn in good performances, with the prize for worst acting going to the actor playing McCorn, the cop. He reads his lines in a flat monotone while he looks off camera as if for cue cards. The sound recording is good except for one scene when it totally drops out for a few seconds, and the print quality is pretty good, save for the Technicolor finale which looks pretty bad. This was apparently a hit when it came out. Practically anything with sound was in 1929, but take away the pretty trappings, and you have a pot boiler that would have lost money if, say, Tiffany had made it. Watching this suddenly elevates films like THE Broadway MELODY and ON WITH THE SHOW! to absolute greatness.

If, like me, you are fascinated by films from the dawn of sound, You will enjoy Broadway. If you don't, you'll find it a clunky monstrosity in a bad print.The first thing you'll notice is the camera work: optical printing of a giant spritzing the Great White Way, a camera that flashes around the set and so forth. This is an enormously technically advanced movie for 1929.The next thing you will notice is the bad acting. It's certainly interesting to see Arthur Houseman in a sound film in which he's not a comic drunk, Thomas Jackson is fine in the role he originated on Broadway and Evelyn Brent gives an amazing performance. However, leads Glen Tryon and Merna Kennedy are whiny. In addition, a lot of the cast moves in strange ways, which I attribute to the fact that they're used to shooting for silent films, and don't have much understanding of how to pace movement with dialogue.What gave me the most pleasure is that this is an anti-Damon-Runyon show. I love Damon Runyon's stories, but, as some one noted, the pleasure of his work is that you never hear the gunfire, never see the murders; you see the people at the edge of the underworld, stupid and non-threatening. Here, in this backstage musical, you see the gangsters backstage, killing each other and threatening rape. My pleasure in this movie lies not in what it does, but what it tries to do and fails.

If you take away director Paul Fejos's flashy crane shots and stunning opening sequence set to the music of Ferde Grofe's "Metropolis," there isn't much left to "Broadway," an otherwise static transfer of a stage play to the screen in the early talking era. The quality of the sound is superior to most talkies made in 1929 and the camera set ups and actor blocking are slightly less moribund, but there are still too many long sequences of posed bodies mouthing dull dialogue. Glenn Tryon, the appealing vaudevillian from Fejos's "Lonesome" the year before, is fine as the hoofer who dreams of getting out of Club Paradise and hitting it big. And Evelyn Brent, in what amounts to a supporting role, dominates the screen with her smoldering presence whenever she appears. Problem is, in order to make this routine play about backstage intrigue involving showgirls and bootleggers interesting as cinema, Fejos chose to make liberal use of innovative, ambitious crane shots, requiring an inflation of the nightclub setting to such gargantuan proportions that the main character's ambitions seem questionable; isn't he already headlining in the biggest show place on earth outside a football field? Rather than a small-time venue, we get something more like a surrealist-cubist airplane hangar and it soon becomes clear that the movie is simply an excuse for Fejos to experiment with a new toy. The sweeping camera draws attention to itself, whereas the liberal use of superimpositions in "Lonesome" a year earlier revealed truths about modern mechanized drudgery and the nature of urban crowds. Most of the songs by Con Conrad, Sidney D. Mitchell and Archie Gottler are cut off before they can get much beyond their introductions, their purpose reduced to another means of showing off the gigantic stage set. At well over 90 minutes, "Broadway" outstays its welcome. The much-touted finale, synced to a reprise of the film's best song, "Hittin' the Ceiling," looks like a jerkily animated third-generation color photocopy.