While it is true that the Vitaphone shorts (and those shorts produced by others) received less mention in the press than feature length films, short subjects were popular and profitable, and were a staple of theatrical presentation well into the 1950s.
“Brown needed men who could play without electricity, The young men would come in from the field, and the show would be presented at, say, an ammunition dump. They were filthy from their service, and after the show they would walk back to the front line and another group of soldiers would be brought in. All of the performers had paperwork that identified them as officers, in case they were capturedby the Japanese.”
“I was born in 1906, and by the early 1930s I was working as a professional musician and believe me, I did my share of scuffling.”
It seems strange that Columbia would begin a series of band shorts at this late date. Certainly, the big bands were on the wane. But it is important to remember that, modern jazz and solo vocal artists notwithstanding, big band music, sweet and hot, was still immensely popular.
The Les Hite orchestra had been a fixture on the Los Angeles music scene since the early 193Os. Louis Armstrong had fronted the band in 193O for an engagement at Frank Sebastian’s New Cotton Club in Culver City.
To direct this one reel film Warner Bros. called upon one of their contract directors, Roy Mack. Mack specialized in shorts featuring black talent, and his less-than-sensitive attitude toward African Americans is one again on display in this film: at the short’s conclusion, when the entire cast has assembled at Hamtree Harrington’s “rent part,” the characters morph into scantily clad African natives.
Lucky Millinder was one of the most charismatic of bandleaders, and he parlayed the ability to communicate with audiences into a career that lasted two and a half decades.
The mid-1940s found Jordan to be one of the most popular of black entertainers. Berle Adams recalls that he was a huge “one night draw,” with a sold-out house pretty much guaranteed. Many ballroom operators, planning their season, would not book other bands “because I don’t have my Louis Jordan date yet.”
While music takes up a great deal of screen time —there are no fewer than 11 compete performances in the film— screenwriters Lindsey and Hafner tried hard to inject some drama into the film.
As the credits fade we see the elaborate night club set. Benny Morton stands to solo on trombone, sharing an incredibly inventive twenty-four bars. The first “A” section begins the musical journey, followed by the second 8 bars, largely played in double time. The release is impeccably performed in stop-time, as Morton then passes the musical baton to Ed Inge who completes the chorus on clarinet.
