Swift and Daley play some novelty musical instruments, with some bright comedy talk between, Swift, a good showman, does comedy and gets all he can out of it, while Miss Daley, a clever musician, plays her instruments exceedingly well, but he act is badly arranged, and with a better routine could hold a later spot in the pop houses.
25 min. “Some Bride.” Young fellow and a couple of girls in song and dances with special sets and flashy costumes. A very good little bit of musical comedy well handled. Several numbers are used and there is also some lively stepping, a combination forming a very likeable offering. Very well received.
The Century Serenaders, after a season at the Woodlawn Café, proved perfect vaudeville stuff, with a cast, variety of musical nonsense and character comedy dancing and weird manhandling of the instruments, holding the house solid and hitting.
23 Mins.; Full Stage (Special Set). In England the revue craze grew out of the fact that a few of these shows hit London for long runs and big business, which prompted a couple of wise ones to put cheaper shows out for the smaller houses through the country. The experiment, as is known, proved successful. This same idea probably was responsible for this production to be built for the small time. But the producer should have made an effort to drill the chorus more effectively. Their work is ragged. One girl of the six almost killed the singing numbers by her very harsh efforts. The chief comedian is capable of gaining laughs by talking in a funny way, which, while not new, will always pass by on the small time. Two comedians, Irish and stuttering, assist, but the dialog employed recalls burlesque of ten years ago. Even the rubber-stretched snap-back is present. At the Opera House through the audience laughed at some of the comedy, the numbers did nothing. With a good deal of brushing up of the chorus work the act should be able to travel over the small time.
: 17 Mins.; One. “Master and Man.” Act opens with talk on the war which is pertinent and to the point. Carries a good quota of laughs. Cantor in black face and Lee playing straight. After war talk, Lee sings “Carolina” and Cantor comes on for “Victrola” and “Snyder’s Grocery Store.” Cantor does some travesties on pictures that are laughable. Cantor also pulls a lot of “cissy” stuff which is unusual in blackface. Act ends with a brisk duet. Went so well at the Palace that Cantor had to make a speech. Good comedy act, and out of the beaten rut.
Bessie Browning, assisted by a male pianist, had no trouble in establishing herself in the laugh column, but her pianist was not so fortunate. Her imitations combined with delivery marked her in the hit column.
Cantor’s Minstrels, despite current reports that they were tying it up downstairs, must have been off form upon hitting the Roof, as the act simply breezed through without interruption until one of the end men appeared as a dame of “color” and then managed to pry forth a few laughs. A good dancer, this boy, but only stepping out once alone. He is the backbone of the turn and subsequent events rest on him. Possibly the act was held back by being minus its “set” while working upstairs and the inability of one of the girls to do anything through reporting just out of a hospital. The Minstrels did fairly well – that’s all.
The laughing hit of the bill was Bert Clark with his former routine and a new partner in Flavio Acaro of musical comedy. She is a large generously proportioned woman and is gorgeously attired in gold decolette [sic] gown. Her feeding of Clark was almost a classic and he utilized her physical possibilities for roars of laughter. Clark’s travestied “swell” is always funny, and they ate up the pair at the Colonial in the next to closing spot.
After intermission is Fay Marbe, recruited from the musical comedy stage. Here we have an attractive young woman with the bloom of youth, a beautiful figure, alluring costuming and a “rhapsodical” personality. She opens with an introductory recitative number, then a kissing song and dance, well worked up by the pianist; then a French dialect number, after which “I Want a Beau.” While making a costume change the accompanist entertains and she returns in a dress of black sequins with crimson headdress, a la Mexico, for an alluring Spanish song and a dance then another dance. The audience recalled her several times. A word of praise for her accompanist, Tom Tucker, who never takes his eyes off her for an instant, accentuating to a nicety the phrasing of her songs and properly emphasizing her terpsichorean efforts.
Felix Bernard and his new teammate, Sidney Towns, who was formerly of a trio, were spotted fourth. Towns shapes up well, and the working up of his comedy is about all needed. Bernard’s piano specialty went for the hit of the turn and he was applauded for an encore. That he gave announcing it as a new melody, though not mentioning the tile [sic].
