Adolphe Menjou – A New Yorker State of Mind

Can-Can in Cleveland

Above: Postcard image of the "Avenue of Presidents" at the 1936 Great Lakes Exposition in Cleveland, Ohio. (youtube.com)

Before the days of mass communications, millions would flock to various world’s fairs and expositions to see the latest inventions, experience the boosterism of the host city, and seek out the thrills of a carnival ride or peep show.

September 26, 1936 cover by Constantin Alajalov.

Along with the major world’s fairs such as Chicago’s 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition, smaller cities also hosted expositions to “boom” their standing in the world—Omaha’s 1898 Trans-Mississippi and International Exposition attracted 2.6 million people, including President William McKinley, and three years later Buffalo’s 1901 Pan-American Exposition would draw eight million—McKinley was there, too, but his visit (and life) would be cut short by an assassin’s bullet.

In many cases these expositions commemorated anniversaries that marked the progress of a particular city or geographic area. Such was the case of Cleveland’s Great Lakes Exposition, which was created to commemorate the centennial of Cleveland’s incorporation as a city while giving a boost to a region hit hard by the Depression. The exposition was visited by The New Yorker’s Eugene Kinkead, who was an editor and writer of the magazine’s “The Talk of the Town” section for many years. Here are brief excerpts from his visit:

SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE…Clockwise from top left: Poster for the Great Lakes Exposition; the most popular attraction was Billy Rose’s Aquacade, a 5,000-seat theater-restaurant that featured diving and synchronized swimming (the Aquacade was also a hit at the 1939 New York Wold’s Fair); star attractions at the Aquacade were Olympic champion swimmers **Eleanor Holm** and Johnny Weissmuller, pictured here with **Billy Rose**; the “Streets of the World” showcased the cultures of more than forty different countries—it also featured the “French Casino,” a restaurant/nightclub that drew massive crowds to its “Girl Revues”—naturally, the scantily clad performances and nude can-can dancers created a major stir among more modest expo attendees. *(chicagovintageposters.com/clevelandmemory.org)*

OTHER DIVERSIONS…Above: the can-can dancers who caused quite a stir at the French Casino, located in the “Streets of the World” section. Below: One of the blimps the Goodyear Tire & Rubber Company featured at the exposition rises in the background of “Streets of the World.” Visitors could purchase tickets for three dollars (roughly $65 today) to take a scenic flight over downtown Cleveland, the exposition, and Lake Erie. *(clevelandmemory.org)*

EXPO BY NIGHT…Clockwise, from top left: Postcard view of the main entrance to the Great Lakes Exposition, backlit by the “Aurora Borealis”—a spectacular light display created by powerful searchlights and colored beams; a tower sponsored by Cleveland’s famed Higbee’s Department Store; photograph of the main entrance at night. *(clevelandmemory.org/clevelandhistorical.org)*

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Relax, Joan

New Yorker regular Frank Sullivan found inspiration in a newspaper article featuring actress Joan Blondell lamenting the “surprised look” she thought was permanently fixed on her face. Sullivan suggested that Blondell “must live a pretty secluded life” not to notice a world “full of startled faces.” Alluding to the coming war in Europe, he suggested that in a year or two “everyone will probably look like ZaSu Pitts.”

PUT ON YOUR WAR FACE…**Frank Sullivan** reassured **Joan Blondell** (center) that soon everyone would wear the expression of actress **ZaSu Pitts** (left). *(imdb.com/sspl.org)*

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At the Movies

As previously noted, costume dramas were big in 1936, and critic John Mosher was less than enthusiastic about many of them, but he found Nine Days a Queen (Tudor Rose in the British release) a sensible affair, noting that “English studios manage to dress up their historical pageants with a care and a suggestion of authority…”

TEMPORARY CROWN…*Nine Days a Queen* (aka *Tudor Rose*) tells the story of **Lady Jane Grey’s** brief reign as the queen of England before she loses her head. Left: **John Mills** as Lord Guilford Dudley and **Nova Pilbeam** as Lady Jane Grey. At right, executioners seek forgiveness from Lady Jane ahead of their grisly task. Critic John Mosher liked the film, but Graham Greene (critic for *The Spectator),* wrote that he had “seldom listened to more inchoate rubbish…” *(oldhollywooddiary via instagram.com)*

Mosher found the musical comedy Sing, Baby, Sing a minor entertainment, and dismissed the screwball comedy My Man Godfrey as “nonsense.” Mosher was in the minority on that latter opinion: Godfrey was one of the most acclaimed comedies of 1936, nominated for six Oscars. In 1999 the film was selected for preservation in the National Film Registry.

PAIRING OFF…**Alice Faye** and Adolphe Menjou in *Sing, Baby, Sing.* **Carole Lombard** and **William Powell** in *My Man Godfrey.* Lombard and Powell were briefly married from 1931 to 1933, but remained close friends after their divorce. (eBay.com/pbs.org)

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From Our Advertisers

The inside front cover greeted readers with this romantic image from Richard Hudnut cosmetics…

…the makers of Lucky Strikes used a bit of romance themselves to inspire more women smokers…

…the folks at Birds Eye took out this advertisement to extol the virtues of frozen fish…

…an odd ad from Green Giant, using the image of an annoying little man to sell peas…one imagines the woman calling “Pa, git yer shotgun”…

…the Parc Vendome advertised its apartments as a great place to keep fit, everything from calisthenics to sun-lamp treatments…

…a couple of one-column ads from the back of the book…at left: founded in 1935, Cadaco was known for transforming real-world sports into table-top versions…on the right: John-Frederics was a partnership between hat designer “Mr John” Harberger and Frederic Hirst…John-Frederics hats were famous in Hollywood, including the green velvet bonnet worn by Vivien Leigh in 1939’s Gone with the Wind…

This 1938 edition of Cadaco’s Bas-Ket featured spring-loaded levers that propelled a ping-pong-like ball toward a basket. (etsy.com)

…Scribner’s magazine, a product of publisher Charles Scribner’s Sons, tried to head off declining circulation by hiring a new editor-in-chief, Harlan D. Logan, who sought to modernize the format to compete with contemporary lifestyle magazines…the publisher took out this cheeky full-page ad to draw attention to the “new” Scribner’s…

…founded in January 1887, the magazine saw its strongest sales when Teddy Roosevelt was a contributor from the 1890s to about 1910…despite Logan’s efforts, the magazine folded in May 1939…

The October 1936 issue of *Scribner’s* marked a change in editorship and design of the magazine. This cover was by American graphic designer **Thomas Cleland.** *(vintage.es)*

…archetypes like the pompous British Colonel and the haughty Duchess seemed to be everywhere in the 1930s, whether they were foils in screwball comedies or wealthy aristocrats laughably out-of-touch and obsessed with past glories (Peter Arno knew that trick well)…if you’ve followed these posts for awhile you know they are often seen in New Yorker advertising as well…

…which makes a nice segue to our cartoons, starting with Arno…

…the calendar section featured this illustration by William Auerbach-Levy for the mini bio of popular bandlander and pianist Eddy Duchin…

…Victor de Pauw opened up the magazine with this painterly illustration…

…some spot art from fashion illustrator Alice Chamalian…

…and Richard Taylor…

…caption-less entries from Alain…

…and Robert Day…

…Leonard Dove supplied a clarification for this sugar daddy…

…William Steig gave us various types of “woe”…

…George Price delivered a surprise at the Automat…

…Otto Soglow pondered the meaning of dreams…

…and we close with some scandalous fashion gossip, courtesy Helen Hokinson…

Next Time: Mirror, Mirror…

Front Page News

It’s hard to beat Chicago as a source for hardboiled storytelling, and two of its best newspaper reporters, Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur, would draw on their rough and tumble newsroom experiences to create one of Broadway’s most-beloved plays.

March 28, 1931 cover by **Ruth Cairns.**

Although they were Chicago boys, The New Yorker crowd viewed Hecht and MacArthur as adopted (or perhaps naturalized) Manhattanites. So when John Mosher wrote his glowing review of the film adaption of The Front Page, he was writing about the work of a pair well known to the Algonquin Round Table set.

WE ❤ NY…Chicagoans Ben Hecht, left, and **Charles MacArthur** were familiar faces with the Algonquin Round Table crowd. (Chicago Tribune/Amazon)

NEWSIES…Editor Walter Burns **(Adolphe Menjou)** sizes up his reporter Hildy Johnson (Pat O’Brien) and Hildy’s fiance Peggy Grant (Mary Brian) in *The Front Page*. (IMDB)

MacArthur (1895-1956) was especially close to the Algonquin group, having shared an apartment with Robert Benchley and a bed with Dorothy Parker in the early 1920s. In 1928 MacArthur would marry one of Broadway’s most beloved stars, Helen Hayes.

For his part, Hecht (1893-1964) contributed short fiction pieces to The New Yorker during its lean first years, 1925-1928. After the success of The Front Page, Hecht would go on to become one of Hollywood’s greatest screenwriters.

Here’s Mosher’s review:

Playwright and essayist James Harvey observes that The Front Page was “Hecht and MacArthur’s Chicago…(and) that counts most deeply in the imagination of Hollywood. And their play, the first of the great newspaper comedies, did more to define the tone and style, the look and the sound of Hollywood comedy than any other work of its time.”

DESK JOB…Hildy Johnson **(Pat O’Brien)** and Molly Malloy **(Mae Clarke)** hide escaped murderer Earl Williams **(George E. Stone)** in a rolltop desk in 1931’s *The Front Page*. (Everett)

TRIUMPHANT TRIUMVIRATE… Following up on the success of his famously over-budget war film *Hell’s Angels* (1930), **Howard Hughes** (left) had another hit on his hands as co-producer of *The Front Page*; at the Fourth Academy Awards the film was nominated for Best Picture, **Lewis Milestone** (center) for Best Director, and **Adolphe Menjou** (right) for Best Actor. (Wikipedia/IMDB)

A footnote: Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur were close throughout their careers, and remain so even in death: they are buried near each other on a hilltop in Oak Hills Cemetery, Nyack, NY.

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From Our Advertisers

In the late 1920s and early 1930s several illustrators drew inspiration from the style Carl “Eric” Erickson made famous with his elegant series of ads for Camel cigarettes…I’m not sure if this ad (part of a series promoting “The New Chevrolet Six”) is by Erickson or an imitator, but it seems the artists were likely inspired by the actress Greta Garbo and her signature beret…

…and for comparison, an Erickson Camel ad from the March 21, 1931 issue…

…and our inspiration, Greta Garbo circa 1930…

…those Chevy buyers might have considered investing in Velmo mohair upholstery to boost the resale value of their auto…

…among other technological wonders of the age — furniture crafted from aluminum, soon to become ubiquitous in workplaces across the country…

…and then there was the electric refrigerator, still new to a lot of households in 1931 as icemen began to hang up their tongs and head for the sunset…

…if you were a modern man or woman of means, you could ditch the auto altogether and get yourself a Pitcairn autogiro…

…in the 1920s and 30s the autogiro was considered by many to be the transportation of the future, a flying machine as easy to operate as driving a car…

HEY DAD, CAN I HAVE THE KEYS TO THE AUTOGIRO?…Above, a Pitcairn PCA-2. In the 1920s and 30s, many future-forward designers imagined the autogiro as the flying car of tomorrow. (Wikipedia)

…for those who preferred to be passenger rather than pilot, they could relax in the comfort of an airplane cabin and enjoy some…hmmm…beef broth! From what I understand, passenger flight was not this cosy in 1931…this was long before pressurized cabins, when you had to mostly fly in the weather, and not above it, and you probably had to fight to keep from upchucking that Torex all over the lovely flight attendant…

…while we are on the subject of flight, we turn to our cartoons, beginning with Garrett Price…

…meanwhile, William Steig explored the trials of young love…

…a rare two-pager from Ralph Barton…

…Leonard Dove adopted an alias for a cartoon that seems inspired by a recent trip to Persia…

…Otto Soglow illustrated one man’s dilemma at a bus stop…

…Gardner Rea found offense in an unlikely setting…

…Barbara Shermund defined pathetic in this sugar daddy’s boast…

…while on the other end of the spectrum, I. Klein illustrated the burdens of life as a Milquetoast…

…and we sign off with Mary Petty, and one woman’s terms of endearment…

Next Time: Last Stand for Beau James…

Bad Hootch

Despite Prohibition, perhaps a few champagne corks were popped for the January 15, 1927, edition of the New Yorker. This is Issue # 100.

8d2aebbb715d1dad58142be9b1bce88f — January 15, 1927–Issue # 100. The cover art by **Constantin Alajalov**.

Prohibition was on the minds of the editors of the issue, which featured a highly critical piece by Morris Markey (“A Reporter at Large”) on the hysteria surrounding the government’s attempt to poison supplies of bootleg alcohol. The editors of “The Talk of the Town” also made this observation:

Before we get more into Markey’s piece, a little background is in order. In an article for Time magazine (Jan. 14, 2015) Lily Rothman writes that for years prior to Prohibition industrial alcohol had been “denatured” by adding toxic or unappetizing chemicals to it. This was done so folks couldn’t escape beverage taxes by drinking commercial-use alcohol instead — but it was still possible to re-purify the liquid so that it could be consumed.

HOME CHEMISTRY KIT…A bootlegger at work in the 1920s. (oldmagazinearticles.com)

Rothman cites a Time article from Jan. 10, 1927, which reported that Prohibition forces in the government were introducing a new formula that year for denaturing industrial-grade alcohol that doubled the poisonous content: “4 parts methanol (wood alcohol), 2.25 parts pyridine bases, 0.5 parts benzene to 100 parts ethyl alcohol.” The article noted that “Three ordinary drinks of this may cause blindness.”

denatured-alcohol-vickyloebel.com — Warning label from the 1920s (vickyloebel.com)

Although some opposed the practice as legalized murder, Rothman cites Seymour M. Lowman, who as Assistant Secretary of the Treasury (1927-33) was in charge of Prohibition enforcement. Lowman told citizens that those on the fringes of society who continued to drink were “dying off fast from poison ‘hooch’” and that if the result was a sober America, “a good job will have been done.”

c61f5ce7ad01e577ee48eaff7470a61f — DRINK AT YOUR OWN RISK…1920s label for bootleg moonshine. (googleuk)

Thousands died from consuming poisoned alcohol. Rothman writes that 33 people died in Manhattan alone in a three-day period in 1928, mostly from drinking wood alcohol.

Markey’s stance in his New Yorker article is somewhat unique, if not cold-hearted. Instead of taking the government to task for the practice, he assured his well-heeled readers that they had nothing to fear as long as they procured their alcohol from reputable bootleggers at top prices. Markey seemed to care not at all for the poor “slum-dwellers” who died from consuming the cheap stuff:

If anything, Markey’s sympathies seemed to lie with those who had to drink the safe, albeit diluted hootch. He explained how four bottles of bootleg Scotch could be fashioned from a single bottle of the real deal:

And if you had money, there was no need to fear death from drink…

…that is, unless you were careless:

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Helena Huntington Smith wrote a profile on the actor Adolphe Menjou, described by IMDB as Hollywood’s epitome of suave and debonair style: “Known for his knavish, continental charm and sartorial opulence, Menjou, complete with trademark waxy black mustache, evolved into one of Hollywood’s most distinguished of artists and fashion plates, a tailor-made scene-stealer.” Interestingly, Menjou was born in Pittsburgh, and not in France as many a fan assumed (his father, however, was a French émigré).

Glass_lantern_advertising_slide_for_1927_silent_film_A_Gentleman_of_Paris — Glass lantern advertising slide for Adolphe Menjou’s 1927 silent film *A Gentleman of Paris.*

In other items, New Yorker architecture critic George S. Chappell (aka T-Square) once again set his sights on the city’s changing skyline. He began with the new General Motors building at Columbus Circle:

He was thrilled by the push-button automation of the building’s elevators:

20gm.span — The General Motors building, left, as it originally appeared on Columbus Circle. It was designed by Shreve & Lamb, who would soon go on to design the Empire State Building. At right, the building became known as the Newsweek Building. (Drawing by J. W. Golinkin in *Towers of Manhattan,* 1928, and photo by David W. Dunlap/*The New York Times*)

If Chappell thought the General Motors building had some issues in 1927, he should see it today, wrapped in tacky reflecting glass and renamed 3 Columbus Circle:

AAGAAS14-03 — WHY? WHY ON EARTH? (nyc-architecture.com)

Elsewhere, Chappell was agog at Sloan & Robertson’s massive Graybar Building:

af1e2749ea5c762147dd77145765bce2 — Sloan & Robertson’s Graybar Building at 420 Lexington. (history.graybar.com)

And to close, this ad on the back page for Chesterfield cigarettes, featuring the company’s famous Atlantic City sign. Note the point of pride: “There are 13,000 lamps” in the sign, but four times that many Chesterfields are smoked every minute…koff…koff…

Next Time: Upstairs, Downstairs…