“Apartment House Frolics,” two men and two women one of the funniest skits seen on the small time in many months, closed the bill. With the right kind of performer the act couldn’t miss on the two-a-day.
Zelaya, the South American piano player, was next-to-closing, and held it down with ease. He opens with a classical selection, after which he gives a lecture in psychology, and when he jazzes the popular numbers he just couldn’t miss.
Williams and Taylor, colored performers one doing comedy, got most out of their dancing. They gave a little of soft-shoe stuff, then a comedy song, followed by never failing eccentric dances.
Jack and June Laughlin, with a special “cyc,” in a singing and dancing routine, the act depending mostly on the stepping, picked up the running of the show. They overlooked their bows.
Trixie Friganza, who had the honor of opening this theatre, had the pleasure of having the audience remembering her well. She received an ovation on her entrance, and every one of her numbers and points got hearty acclaim.
Grant Gardner, billed as Mons. Grant Gardner, has about a minute of mysterious music, with lights changing, leading one to believe almost anything, making his appearance from the opposite side of the spot in grotesque blackface make-up. He explains the psychology of laughter, telling a few humorous stories, topped off with eccentric dance, and for an encore plays a peculiar cornet.
Jim and Marian Harkins didn’t have much to work on, as Jim’s work depends on the preceding acts, but received as many laughs as were in the audience. They finished to a hearty hand and four bows.
Bradley & Ardine, in full stage showing an interior of a charming bungalow, danced and sang, but had hard going. Their little piano player gave the act some real assistance, though carrying that smile that says “I know I’m good,” and he proved it when all three of them took a bow, separately, he getting his share of the applause. They came back for an acrobatic dancing finish that carried them off to a hit as hits went at that performance.
Marie Gaspar, a sweet patootie, a recruit from the local cabarets, suffered with a cold and was hindered by a piano player who wanted to be eccentric. Miss Gaspar opens with one of those summery little dresses that made every one in the house love her, also doing a Cinderella number while sitting on the piano. Then the piano player had his {tuning?}, and Gaspar makes her appearance in an iridescent decolette [sic] shimmy gown, singing a couple of blues numbers, doing an eccentric jazz dance for her exit.
La France Brothers suffered a stage wait on opening, hurtful always to a closing turn. But the first flash at their dizzy production, all lighted up and worth waiting for, made a lot sit down who had stood up. The head balancing and equilibristic feats throughout were mastery and the showmanship noteworthy. Splendid closer.