Word: scripting
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Material from the actual script of the show having been banned because of its "political nature" the broadcast will consist of several specially prepared skits as well as the first public rendition of the hit songs. Tunes to be played are "Livin' the Life" by Alan J. Lerner '40, "Look Before You Leap" by Stanley Miller '38, and "I'm Sorry but We'll Have to Say Goodby" and "Night Song" by Benjamin Welles...
...labored, hundreds of Vassar girls were put on parade, whole regiments of West Point cadets marched and countermarched, millions of peasants danced in the streets, and out of it all came "Rosalie," perhaps the most repulsive musical mouse to escape from Hollywood in some time. Nelson Eddy has a script that calls for romantic acting, but wisely abandons this after the first ten minutes and does nothing from then on but sing "In The Still of the Night" and murmer "I love you" in sort of a weak whisper. Eleanor Powell is well cast, because she is also unable...
Pardon scratchy script-vessel is rolling...
While Gold Is Where Yo Find It was being edited & cut, a hillside in Los Angeles' Elysian Park started shifting, tumbled boulders down on a highway beneath. To the scene rushed Warner cameramen with Technicolor equipment, floodlights for an all-night watch. Script writers got right to work on a landslide sequence to be added to the film. But the hill refused to budge for the cameramen. Last week Nature was more cooperative. As the Warner Bros, prepared to present their film simultaneously in 200 theatres throughout the U. S., flood waters swept out over the Sacramento Valley, inundated...
...Crooner Harry Richman & Aeronaut Dick Merrill; TIME, Sept. 14, 1936, et seq.). And there is a promise of native warmth when the plane plops down in the midst of peasant festivities in a Norse village. But neither promise is kept. Just as soon as they artfully can, the script writers haul the characters back to the familiar Manhattan night-club surroundings, and thenceforth the picture proceeds through the high & hackneyed jinks of a machine-made plot. Ethel Merman sings with her usual lid-off verve, like a hotcha stenographer at a house party, and skates a little bit. Ameche...