15 Mins.; One. This trio look as if they were from some quartet. They have the sameness characteristic of all male acts. Two of the boys sing straight, with the little fat chap doing a Scotch number that is a trifle long, but otherwise all right. A good singing aggregation of popular songs for the small time.
Winston’s Water Lions and Diving Nymphs disapproved the general conception that closing acts are cues for a premature “good night,” and held them to a soul. This aquatic turn is in a class by itself and worthy of the feature billing accorded it.
Arthur and Morton Havel (Morton formerly was simply designated as the “Co.” in the former skits) have a bright little conception in “Suits,” suitable for either “one” or “two.” Arthur does a $14 hand-me-down suit model and the immaculate Morton is the {$55?} dandy. They step out of their positions in the windows for a line of chatter preceding the old standby, the boxing scene with the “cissy” turning on the “tough” Arthur. The finishing song is weak and should be replaced. There’s less of the knockabout and more of the studied artistry in Arthur’s style now than of yore.
Jack Rolls and Baby Royce made no pretense at camouflaging the reason for their presence, and after getting the conventional ditty off, entered into a stepping routine that left ‘em hungry for more. Admittedly nimble with the pedal extremities the act’s value is further enhanced by the likely Miss Royce’s free and easy eccentric work and acrobatic stepping. The pair could not gainsay the gallery hounds insistent extra recall. For the deuce spot the team is a winner.
Milt Collins made his entrance to some departing clientele. No great interval passed before his audience was almost in convulsions. This bland imitator of the deceased Cliff Gordon is timely in his monolog, which is punctuated now and then by a few jokes which might be cut out for the benefit of an equal number who might take offense.
Brown, Gardner and Barnett opened following the pictorial. The latter held nothing startling, the audience passing it up in anticipation of lights and the opening turn. The dancing of the couple merits praise for their effort rather than their grace. The pianoist scored with the house in his own specialty while the other make the change.
Billy Duval and Merle Symonds had no difficulty at all in making the deuce spot a pleasure. Miss Merle was a trifle indistinct in her enunciation of the opening song, but is to be admired for her agility in dancing, as her partner evokes admiration for his nonchalant manner. Miss Merle had a little too much color for a too white brow, and appeared at a disadvantage for inability to make up. A fault easily remedied. The “Extra Dry” act in third spot showed plenty of class, speed, effective dancing and costuming, which is very pleasing to the eye. The lady playing the school ma’am scored an individual hit with her drunk scene, walking off with a well deserved hand. The turn moved with precision, spirit and a tempo, well sustained throughout, finishing to a dozen curtains, while the last song was encored to its rise and descent.
Coming on at a rather late moment did not handicap Jim Toney and Ann Norman in capturing a solid score for themselves, with the result Jim had to show all he had even down to the encoring “knock-knee-dance.” Toney and Norman top in the lights and did not disappoint.
Dolly Kay opened after the intermission and sold her jazz stuff to hundred percent profits. Miss Kay’s zippy manner of delivery impresses from the start and the house us at her mercy thereafter. It is all pop material, familiar in the main, but ever compelling and novel by virtue of the soloist’s individuality.
Came Paul Morton and Naomi Glass and went through their paces to their usually excellent returns with the Four Mortons (sam, kitty, Martha and Joe) holding down the ace spot and bringing the entire Morton tribe on for a hurrah finish. The novelty of the family affair struck the house heavy and it bends and more bends for the sextet.
