Coley & Jaxon, as the minstrel and the maid, were a huge comedy success with a good talk cleverly handled, especially by the girl in a Buster Brown character, trailing a dog around, which evolved talk. They finished to good applause, with singing and dancing.
Marie & Mary McFarland, sharing the top billing with Frank Wilcox & Co. in “Ssh’h,” appeared fifth being the first of the program with songs of regular concert routine, with powerful soprano voices blending beautifully. They got big appreciation. Frank Wilcox & Co. in “Shh-h,” containing good farcical situation adroitly handled by Wilcox with good support, scored a laughing success.
Jack Cahill and Don Romaine, a blackface and a wop, took the show’s comedy hit next to closing, with the comedy routine somewhat drawn out and below the Orpheum’s standard. Both are clever performers, with good singing voices.
Sydney Phillips, with songs, stories, a dope number and an impression of Al Jolson singing “Rock-a-bye Baby,” stopped the show at fifth position. Phillips possesses a good voice and puts stories over effectively.
“Under the Apple Tree,” with John Sully, a George Choos production, headlined successfully. John Sully cleverly handled the comedy, eliciting good laughs throughout, and otherwise distinguished himself in a dance with Muriel Thomas, which received the biggest applause. Willard Hall, a nifty juvenile, and Natalie Dugan, a good-looking ingénue, contributed to the success, with the chorus, costumes and setting up with the best girl acts.
Bob Nelson and Frank Croning possessing excellent personalities disclosed dexterity in handling published numbers that should place them at the top of the male singing piano turns. It was a hit next to closing.
Eddie Vogt in “Love Shop,” with Harry and Grace Ellsworth (holdover), placed as closing, held the spot strongly lending distinction and sharing honors with Emma Haig, assisted by Richard W. Keene, in “Playtime,” the current headliner. Miss Haig’s dances, artistically and prettily presented, capably assisted by Richard Keene, a handsome juvenile and Mildred Brown at the piano, making a happy and refreshing youthful combination. Fine appreciation.
: “One Word.” New? Yes. Novel? Yes. People? Two. Star? Yes. Who? Crosman. Henrietta? Yes. Words? Yes. Each? One. Length? Ten. Hours? No. Minutes? Yes. Enough? Plenty. Action? No. Punch? Depends. Upon – What? Idea – yes! Strikes – Who? You. And so on it might go until the end, the same as Miss Crosman and the young man supporting her in this sketch carry on a one-worded dialog. It’s away from the usual run of dramatic sketches, yet one can hardly see where it will set vaudeville afire. The redeeming feature at the Orpheum was the way Miss Crosman and the man handled the single word “conversation.” It keeps one on the alert connection the sketch as the utterance of one word by Miss Crosman and then by the man gives the dialog a halting, jerking momentum. Fortunately, the litthe skit by Frank C. Egan runs only 10 minutes. That’s about all the vaudeville would stand for, although any audience is going to pay Miss Crosman a lot of respect for she is capable actress and has done some big work on the stage. “One Word” is very light – too might for vaudeville perhaps, and would better serve as a curtain raiser to some short dramatic play where it was first seen before Miss Crosman accepted it. Vaudeville may accept “One Word” because of its ingenious construction, Miss Crosman’s prestige and its brevity. There are one or two good laughs and that’s about all. The act was mildly received at the Orpheum Monday night.
“Poughkeepsie.” 16 Mins.; Full Stage. In his new sketch Charley Grapewin has the assistance of Anna Chance, in the lively roel of the wife of a traveling salesman. This new work, whoever penned it, is capable of making the laughs come think and fast. Mr. Grapewin is a drummer who lives in Yonkers. He is the victim of the local gossips. It becomes known to his wife that he has a girl in every town. He is expected home. A rather cool but calm spouse meets him upon his return from the terrible road. She tells him there is housecleaning to be done. He graphs for his hat and bags. But she finally wins her point and he agrees to do his part in cleaning up the little nest. When alone in the parlor he notices the bag of another drummer with the same initials as his own, which was taken by him by mistake. The wife sends her husband into the dining room, and decides to inspect his baggage for some clew as to what her husband is doing while away. She opens the bag of another traveler and finds in it several pictures, one from a taffee-headed milliner in Poughkeepsie. She has heard that dame was a great friend of her husband’s. Revenge she must have. He returns from his meal and is greeted with some heated arguments and censored for his faithlessness. He tries to pass it off, but can’t get it over. He had telephoned to his friend with the same initials, also a resident of Yonkers, to have a wire sent him telling him the firm wanted Jed Harvey (Mr. Grapewin) to leave on special business to Poughkeepsie. The telegram does not arrive quickly, but when it does Jed is ready to jump. He hands it unopened to his wife and tells her to read it. The wire says, “Stay home with your wife and help clean house.” The finish shows a greatly disguised Jed at home. There are few sketches that have the comedy worked out with the rapidly of this new vehicle of Grapewin’s. the audience was continually laughing. Miss Chance is perusal excellent great assistant.
“When Caesar Ran a Paper.” The skit was written two years ago by “Wally” Young, until recently dramatic editor of the San Francisco Chronicle, and was produced at that time at the annual show of the local press club, for which it was expressly created. It proved one of the hits of that entertainment and easily made good here last week, although in much faster company. The sketch is a travesty on editorial room life of the present day. The story deals principally with the efforts of an enterprising theatrical press agent to “land” a front page illustrated feature story of his star. The scene is laid in the private office of Caesar, “editor of Rome’s greatest daily,” and the action takes place the morning after a strenuous night before, when Caesar has been royally entertained by Marc Anthony, publicity promoter for Cleopatra, Egyptian dancer. There is a generous display of liquors, cordials and mixing paraphernalia. Caesar is diving his time between editing “copy” and mixing fizzes, when Anthony suddenly bursts in on his privacy, armed with photographs and typewritten “copy.” The dialog is bright and snappy, and the events that follow in swift succession and culminate finally in the arrival of Caesar’s wife, are ludicrously funny. The costuming is elaborate the players are clad in the conventional attire of the Caesarian Roman Empire period. Jacobs, another San Francisco newspaper man, has the part of Caesar; Young interprets the role of Anthony and Ethyl McFarland, a comedy and fairly clever danseuse, is Cleopatra. Joseph Roberts does a taxi driver “bit” and masquerades later as Mrs. Caesar. From a histrionic viewpoint, the work of the two chief principals plainly evidences a lack of acting experience, but they have a corking good vehicle and long before their Orpheum tour has been concluded they should develop the ease, stage presence and finesse of the “pro.” In its present shape the offering got over nicely here, where the co-stars have a strong personal following. On its actual merit, it should be moderately successful elsewhere.
