by Paul R. Spitzzeri
As noted here in a prior post, the Loew’s State Theatre opened at the southwest corner of Broadway and 7th Street in a height-limit commercial building with office space embracing more than 350 units in its upper floors, while the 2,400-seat movie palace offered programs of vaudeville and motion pictures and a baker’s dozen of stores were also on the ground level.
The venue was part of Marcus Loew’s empire including Metro Studios (which became part of Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer, or MGM) and was managed by a pair of agents until, early in 1925, when the State became part of the expanding West Coast Theatres system (taken over by William Fox a couple of years later.) Running the productions was Marco Wolff, who, with sister Fanchon Wolff Simon, put on the remarkable Fanchon and Marco stage extravaganzas.
The featured artifact from the Museum’s holdings here is the theater’s Newsette and Program for the week of 11 April 1925, but it is also worth noting that, at the start of the month, a 6% first mortgage bond issue of $2.25 million was established through the prominent firm of S.W. Straus and Co. by the borrower and owner of the structure, Seventh and Broadway Building Company.
It was reported in the Los Angeles Express of the 2nd that the edifice “is one of the notable structures of the Los Angeles business district” and that “the property is earning more than twice the greatest combined annual interest and serial principal payments.” Three days later, the Los Angeles Times observed that
The highest realty valuation west of Chicago and possibly equal to that in any city, is that at which the southwest corner of Seventh street and Broadway, Los Angeles, has been appraised by various real estate experts as a basis for a bond issue of $2,250,000 secured by the Loew State Building.
The article continued that the property was only slightly less valuable than one at State and Madison streets in the Windy City, which was second to some in New York City, while Loew officials stated that store rentals in the structure exceeded those of of any other company buildings, including the Loew State Building at 45th Street and Broadway in the Big Apple.
Moreover, the leases were from the early days of the opening of the edifice and “might readily be increased, if open today.” Ownership was vested in the estate of Arthur Letts, impresario of The Broadway department store, who died in 1923 and the Seventh and Broadway firm, a subsidiary of Loew’s, Inc., held a 98-year lease. The purpose for taking out the bonds was part of a refinancing scheme.
As for programming covered in the newsletter, one of the more unusual bookings was for the national tour of Gunnar Kaasen (rendered “Gasson” or “Kasson” in press coverage) and “his heroic dog, Balto,” an Alaskan Husky sled dog who achieved fame for leading a team to deliver anti-diptheria serum from Anchorage to Nome during an epidemic in early February. As the Express of the 9th commented, “a dramatic presentation . . . has been arranged” so that “not only will the tall ‘musher’ use the sledge and other paraphernalia with which he made his thrilling dash to Nome,” but a reproduction of the Alaskan scene was to be included.
It turned out that Balto was not quite the hero as portrayed, as another dog had more of a role than publicly acknowledged in the feat, but the Husky, which died in 1933 at age 14, got a statue in New York’s Central Park and his taxidermized remains are at the Cleveland Museum of Natural History.
The program for the week included the standard pictorial review newsreel followed by a performance by the theatre orchestra, conducted by Carli D. Elinor, of portions of the score from Sally, a musical comedy from Florenz Ziegfeld, the film version of which was the feature. After the musical interlude, Fanchon and Marco presented The Idle Hour, which was subtitled “A Travesty on the Nickelodeon of Twenty Years Ago,” and which, starring Jack “Rube” Clifford, a veteran vaudevillian, comically depicted the archaic entertainment of yore that preceded motion pictures. The Venice Vanguard of the 8th called a presentation at the local Dome Theatre “screamingly funny” and a “truthful and exact revival” of the nickelodeon days.
The featured film, First National Pictures’ Sally starred Colleen Moore, one of the most successful actors of the period. The Express of the 11th reported that Fanchon and Marco asked the star if she could attend the opening night of the showing at Loew’s State and Moore, who was injured while shooting The Desert Flower and just had a plaster cast removed from her neck and shoulders, was said to be “making great plans for the premiere.” The account concluded that the star felt that Sally was “her greatest picture,” while friends were certain the movie would make Moore “the greatest box-office attraction in America.”
Regarding its stage predecessor, the Los Angeles Record, also from the 11th, it was recorded that Sally, which ran for 70 weeks on Broadway, along with a tour throughout America and a year in London, was said to be “the most successful musical comedy ever presented” in the country and grossed north of $4 million. It was asserted, though, that the movie rendering imbued “new life, new color and new charm” while “it is said to supply an ideal role” for the star.
The Times of the 12th, adding that Sally was adapted to the screen by the well-known June Mathis, one of a few women with a prominent role in writing for film, stated that the star “is declared to have eclipsed any role she has portrayed in the past, for originality, charm and hoydenish [a girl behaving boisterously] humor.”
The plot involved the titular character, an orphan, going from being a dishwasher in Paris to a dancer under a pretense and, while she was exposed as a fraud, Ziegfled happened to be there and offered her a Broadway deal. The other main role and love interest was played by Lloyd Hughes, who has previously been featured here. The comic foil of a down-and-out duke, reprising his work from the stage, was played by Leon Errol in his first film role.
The program doesn’t say much about the film, as the publication usually promoted the upcoming feature, so all it said relating to Sally was that Moore and her husband, First National western representative and the film’s co-producer John McCormick, were to leave the area soon for New York and then a summer vacation in Europe as the star took a break from a hectic shooting schedule.
Balto, however, was given a front-page feature for his live appearance at Loew’s State and it was added that the hero canine and Kaasen were “presented under the auspices of the Sol Lesser film organization,” an independent production company, “which will soon release a picture with the dog as the star.” The newsletter lauded the animal for its role in “the elements of drama, the struggle against remorseless elements, the blinding blizzard” in a feat that “touched a responsive chord in every reader of the story of the super struggle.”
As for the next week’s feature highlighted in the newsletter, that was another adaptation of a stage work, this being Seven Chances, which was a success for impresario David Belasco in 1916. Producer Joseph Schenck acquired the film rights, but Keaton, the great stone-faced comedian whose gags and stunts were top-notch, only made the picture, serving as co-producer and director, because he owned Schenck money.
The plot involved Keaton’s character, Jimmie Shannon, a stockbroker, being near economic disaster when he learned that he would inherit $7 million if he married at 7 p.m. on his 27th birthday, which was that very day. His girlfriend Mary agrees, but then ends the relationship when he tells her the circumstances, with money seeming more important than true love. From there, a passel of women are approached and all reject the suitor, except one who is underage, even as the girlfriend changes her mind.
A business partner of Shannon, meanwhile, takes out an advertisement calling for potential spouses to be at a church two hours before the deadline and masses of women appear. The pastor, however, decides the matter is a joke and refuses to take part in a ceremony, leaving the furious horde to chase Keaton’s character, who learns of his girl’s reconsideration but is still chased by the mob.
The classic scene is when Shannon accidentally stumbles on rocks when descending a hill during the pursuit and an avalanche (using an untold number of fake, but realistic looking, rocks) follows Shannon through a hilarious bit lasting a few minutes, including the chasing off of the gaggle of would-be brides. Just in time, he is able to marry Mary and all’s well that ends well.
A short second-page piece, titled “Buster—And Seven Kinds Of Love” asserts that the comedic genius opined that there were only that many kinds of love, though it sounds like this was a studio publicity job rather than Keaton’s professed view. In any case, the septet, a couple of which are certainly archaic now, were purportedly,
The receptive love of a bashful swain who forces the girl to make advances to him. Reverse gear on the kisses.
The love of a cave-man who forces his attentions upon an unwilling girl. Kisses which miss fire.
The love which springs from propinquity [closeness] and has a slow growth before and after marriage. Osculation [kissing] very dilatory [slow-acting].
The love which is aroused in a woman by continued kindnesses and which does not arise primarily from physical attraction . . . . Tasteless kisses.
Love at first sight. Smouldering fires burst into flame when two persons see in each other the ideal of their dreams. This kind of love sometimes results in a petting party after an hour’s acquaintance. Hot lips.
The unreciprocated love of a woman for a man. Very sad. Usually ends in minor or major tragedy. “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned. Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.” Sawdust kisses.
Love by pity inspired. When a woman marries a black sheet to reform him, and takes to drink herself after having been beaten with a baseball bat for seven months. Kisses turned sour.
In addition to the promotion of the Keaton picture, there are short sections related to the upcoming MGM film, Man and Maid, starring Renée Adorée and Lew Cody, but the focus (!) was on “The Blonde With The Tragic Eyes,” co-star Harriett Hammond, a Mack Sennett “bathing beauty,” chosen specifically by the popular writer Elinor Glyn, who penned the novel on which the movie was based. Glyn commented that Hammond, who appeared in movies from 1918 to 1930, “has the most tragic and appealing eyes of any blonde she has ever seen,” and which was vital for the romance set in Paris during the late world war.
The “Reel News” column included reference to a proposed MGM picture about life in the film industry and to be titled “Behind the Screen,” though no such movie by that name was apparently made; another MGM production to be made based on Kate Jordan’s novel, Time, the Comedian; this was completed, starring Mae Busch and Lew Cody, and released in November to good reviews and box office; Alice Terry’s joining the crew in France for the making of director Rex Ingram’s MGM release based on Blasco Ibañez’ wartime novel, Mare Nostrum, released early in 1926; and the completion, with George Fitzmaurice at the helm, of His Supreme Moment, with Blanche Sweet and Ronald Colman as the leads.
The back page has notes on New Toys, a First National comedy starring Richard Barthelmess and his wife Mary Hay Clifton Webb, the latter becoming, much later, a very successful character actor in such films as Laura and The Razor’s Edge; and the feature, Introduce Me, with romantic star Douglas MacLean as the lead as well as producer, at the West Coast’s Criterion Theatre (formerly the Kinema) on Grand Avenue north of 7th Street.
There are a few more of the Loew’s State Newsette and Program editions in the Homestead’s collection, as well as a photo of the theatre and building under construction, so we’ll be sure to share these in future “That’s a Wrap” posts.