Word: cabarets
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Night Club. This vapid, badly recorded cabaret revue, introduced without scintillation by Donald Ogden Stewart and composed of flash shots of famous entertainers, of the washroom and a coatrack, has no apparent connection with the story by Katherine Brush from which it is supposed to be taken. To make it long enough for a feature, Director Robert Florey photographed and recorded an audience ceaselessly clapping hands. Worst sound: the henlike cackling of women in the lavabo. The Gamblers (Warner). This picture is a ponderous leer at Wall Street corruption. It has that annoying air of knowingness peculiar to bad parlor...
...issue of TIME for Aug. 5, it is stated in the review of The Eater of Darkness that Dadaism was "born at the Cabaret Voltaire, Paris, 1916." This would give rise to the erroneous impression that Dada was a movement of French origin...
Casual, amused observers wondered if the distinction is worth making. Perhaps it is in Colon. By edict of Mayor G. Ramon de Paredes no young woman classified as an "entertainer" will be allowed to work in a Colon cabaret without a health certificate from Dr. Carlos Beiberach, Dr. Peralta Ortega, or Dr. Daniel R. Oduber. Bona fide "artists" will sing, dance or perform comic numbers uncertified...
...walking down Fifth Avenue smoking a cigar (brand not noted: Author Coates advertises everything but cigars}. Significance: Ford Madox Ford calls this "not the first but the best Dada novel." Dadaism is extinct. Fathered by Painter Francis Picabia, mothered by Poet Tristan Tzara, Dadaism was born at the Cabaret Voltaire, Paris, 1916, when Poet Tzara, 20, thus christened it (in verse) : "Dada is not a literary school. . . . Anonymous Society for the Exploitation of Ideas, Dada has 391 different attitudes and colors according to the sex of the president. It transforms itself-affirms-at the same time contradicts-without...
...Oppressed (French). Never at her best even in the comparative intimacy of a theatre because she needs a smaller place, a cabaret where she can count on every inflection of her face and voice, Raquel Meller acts like a phantom for the camera's phantom audience. Her gestures are uncertain and stylized, yet she does not seem to be a phantom of herself but of some other actress, perhaps Bernhardt, perhaps Duse. Bernhardt made a cinema 17 years ago that was a good deal like this.* It was a costume drama too, and even with the experimental craftsmanship...