Showing posts with label Jimmy Durante. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jimmy Durante. Show all posts

11 March 2023

'Twas Brillig - The Songs of 'Alice in Wonderland'

The idea of doing an animated or hybrid live action/animation version of the perennially popular Alice in Wonderland - or as its author, Lewis Carroll called it, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland - was in the back of Walt Disney's mind for many years before he got around to producing the famous 1951 film.

Lewis Carroll
Before Disney's film, there had been at least six film versions (not counting a few shorts by Walt himself), and two television productions, including one that aired while the 1951 film version was in production.

In the 1940s, Disney had contemplated a live-action/animated version with Ginger Rogers in the title role. This did not come to pass, but Rogers (a strange choice) recorded some Victor Young-Frank Luther songs for the project. The resulting album can be found here.

Bob Hilliard and Sammy Fain
In 1946, Disney asked the well-known Mack David, Al Hoffman and Jerry Livingston to work up some Alice songs, as they had done for Cinderella. Only one was eventually used - "The Unbirthday Song." Disney's next choice was the pairing of Sammy Fain and Bob Hilliard. Composer Fain had only just started working with the lyricist, but they already had a success with "Dear Hearts and Gentle People." Their songs ultimately became the backbone of the film's score, although the teams of Cy Coben-Oliver Wallace, Don Raye-Gene de Paul and Mack David-Jerry Livingston-Al Hoffman also contributed excellent numbers.

Despite the film's patchwork of composers, the songs from Alice hold together very well, and were taken up by some of the best performers of the day. As such they make for a entertaining playlist, which I've put together for you. This set does not include anything from the soundtrack itself, which Disney did not get around to issuing until the CD era.

Here are the Alice songs, presented in the order of their appearance in the film, with one exception. All numbers are by Fain and Hilliard unless noted otherwise.

I hope I don't get too many details of the film wrong: I haven't seen Alice since I was seven. And that was a while ago.

'Alice in Wonderland'

Alice
The idea for doing this post actually originated in one of my items devoted to the superb vocalist Stuart Foster. I was mightily impressed by the recording he made with Hugo Winterhalter of Alice's title song. This dreamy reverie perfectly sets off the more eccentric songs in the score.

At the risk of repeating myself, I've included the Foster-Winterhalter recording to start off this collection.

'I'm Late'

The White Rabbit
Danny Kaye
The lament of the White Rabbit - "I'm Late" - was for many years the most often heard song from the score. Here is a version by Danny Kaye, whose ability to sing very fast while conveying comic neurosis is perfect for the Rabbit. The clever lyrics are a big help, of course. Dave Terry conducted the band for this Coral recording.

Kaye makes two return appearances below.

'How D'Ye Do and Shake Hands'

One of these is Tweedledee, the other Tweedledum
The next two songs are given over to the ever-popular Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Their first number is the wacky "How D'Ye Do and Shake Hands." It's an item that did have some currency on the televised variety shows of the time because it lends itself to an ensemble presentation.

Two of the leading labels of the day - RCA Victor and Decca - gathered four of their biggest names to have a go at it. I've included both recordings, hopefully not trying your patience in the process.

RCA's effort starred Betty Hutton, Dinah Shore, Phil Harris and Tony Martin - two who specialized in comic songs (Hutton and Harris) and two who did not. Phil and Betty come off better; the other two sound a little embarrassed to be there. Henri René led the band with "horns by courtesy of Spike Jones."

Jimmy, Jane, Groucho
The competition from Decca started off with the ever-present Danny Kaye, adding Jimmy Durante and Groucho Marx. The fourth voice belonged to Jane Wyman, who not only could sing, but was adept with comic numbers - as she proved that same year with her duet with Bing on "In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening" in Here Comes the Groom.

The Decca recording, with Sonny Burke leading the band, is the better of the two. Thanks to my pal Ernie for bringing these to my attention!

'The Walrus and the Carpenter'


Danny Kaye returns with another Tweedledum/dee specialty, their tale of the "The Walrus and the Carpenter," a setting of a Carroll poem. The backing is again by Dave Terry.

Carroll's off-center approach to words was perfect for Kaye - the carpenter and walrus are on a beach, and the carpenter assures the walrus, "We'll sweep this clear / In 'alf a year, / If you don't mind the work!"

'All in the Golden Afternoon'


"All in the Golden Afternoon" is the preface poem to Carroll's book, but in the film Fain's setting is used for a scene with Alice and the flowers.

Kukla, Burr, Ollie and Fran
"Golden Afternoon" inspired commercial recordings by Rosemary Clooney and Anne Shelton, but I have chosen the version by a sentimental favorite, Fran Allison, working with Wayne King's orchestra. Allison was the "Fran" in Kukla, Fran and Ollie, Burr Tillstrom's puppet show that was a favorite of early TV viewers, especially me.

Allison was not a great singer - not as good as Clooney or Shelton, anyway - but her vocalizing here is charming.

'Twas Brillig


We're in a different world altogether with the next song, "'Twas Brillig," which was allotted to the Cheshire Cat and his perma-grin. (Parenthetically, there are many explanations of the genesis of the phrase, "grinning like a Cheshire cat," but it's clear the expression and character did not originate with Carroll.)

The song was borrowed from Carroll's Alice follow-up Through the Looking Glass. The author called it "Jabberwocky," but the film goes by its first words, "'Twas Brillig," which continues, "and the slithy toves / Did gyre and gimble in the wabe". It's often called a nonsense poem, but Carroll's initial version was a send-up of Old English. Nonsense or not, the poem did contribute at least two words to the dictionary - "chortled" and "galumphing," both favorites of mine.

Lucy Ann Polk
"'Twas Brillig" being a sort of Victorian jive talk, it appealed to some of the musicians of the mid-20th century. Hollywood songwriters Don Raye and Gene de Paul set it to music, and a nice job they did of it, too. I've included the fine recording by Les Brown's band, with a accomplished vocal from the talented Lucy Ann Polk. This is one of the best things in the collection. The Brown record makes use of only the first stanza of Carroll's poem. (The complete poem and more about its language can be found here.)

'The Unbirthday Song'

Alice at tea with the Hatter and Hare
A second number that found some life outside of the film was "The Unbirthday Song," another clever piece, this one given to the Mad Hatter and the March Hare. It was contributed by the popular songwriters Mack David, Jerry Livingston and Al Hoffman.

I've chosen the version by Rosemary Clooney, one of the four Alice songs she recorded for Columbia's children's label. Rosie can seem perfunctory in kiddie material, but she gets this one right. Percy Faith leads the band.

'Very Good Advice'



Peggy King
"Very Good Advice" is Alice's song of disillusionment. She fears she won't return home, and sings, "I give myself very good advice / But I very seldom follow it / That explains the trouble that I'm always in."

Here, too, we turn to the big band ranks for the RCA recording by Ralph Flanagan and his orchestra, with a vocal by Peggy King, 20 years old and sounding younger. Her simple approach is right for the song, one of the best by Fain and Hilliard.

You may note on the record label that King was spelling her first name "Pegge" early in her career. One of her few LPs is available here.

'Painting the Roses Red'

Fred Waring
Alice encounters playing cards who are busying themselves by painting the roses red. Why? Because they mistakenly planted white roses and the Queen of Hearts prefers red. (She catches on anyway and has them beheaded - which is her impulse on most occasions. This may seem to be a not-very-oblique commentary on Queen Victoria, but it's said that she loved the book.)

The abbreviated version here is from the song-storybook by Fred Waring and His Pennsylvanians, a polished production for Decca.

'The March of the Cards'

The Three Suns
I am not the biggest fan of the Three Suns, but their foursquare approach to music suits "The March of the Cards." (The Three Suns were reportedly the favorite group of noted hipster Mamie Eisenhower.) The Sammy Fain tune was taken up by a number of other artists - among them Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops, Waring and pianist Winifred Atwell.

This is the only strictly instrumental piece in this collection, and is well in keeping with the jaunty approach of some of the other selections.

From the top in the photo above are Artie Dunn, organ, Morty Nevins, accordion, and Al Nevins, guitar.

'In a World of My Own'


The song "In a World of My Own" is introduced at the beginning of the film, but the best version on record may be by Fred Waring's group, which segues into a reprise of the "Alice in Wonderland" theme music at the end of their set. For that reason, I've kept it in that place to close this collection, save for the bonus track below.

A Jazz Version of the Theme

Paul Desmond and Dave Brubeck
The "Alice in Wonderland" theme was unexpectedly popular with certain jazz musicians. I've capped this collection with Dave Brubeck's first recording of the composition, dating from 1952. He would return to it five years later for Columbia and a complete LP called Dave Digs Disney.

Brubeck's pianism often seemed labored, as it does here. But the compensation is the wonderful alto saxophonist Paul Desmond, who contributes a typically lyrical solo, drawing an evocative tone from an instrument that can sound shrill.

Disney's Alice in Wonderland is highly regarded today, but lost money at the box office on its initial release. Walt himself was unhappy with the product, thinking it had insufficient heart. One critic complained that it "utterly lacked enchantment." To me, the opposite is true - Disney's artists brought Carroll's wonderland to life with great skill. Gracing it all was a diverse score that nonetheless hangs together and is a entertaining complement to Carroll's story and the Disney storytellers.

These records are primarily from Internet Archive, as refurbished by me.

One final note - "Lewis Carroll" was a pen name. The author was in reality Rev. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (1832-98), who was at once a clergyman, an Oxford don in mathematics, a poet, an author and a photographer. You may have noticed that the title card at the top of this post has a typo in Carroll's name.

26 January 2020

Two Bob Hope Soundtracks

I was looking through an old backup drive a few weeks ago and came across a number of LPs that I transferred many years ago, probably even before I had this blog. I've now remastered some of them and will be presenting them here periodically.

We start with two soundtracks from a few of Bob Hope's later and less remembered movies: Beau James from 1957 and Paris Holiday from the following year.

Beau James


I've seen Beau James, but not for many years, but I do recall that it is a romanticized film about jazz age New York Mayor Jimmy Walker. It was based on a book by hagiographer Gene Fowler, whose most famous opus was probably Good Night, Sweet Price, a similarly misty-eyed tribute to John Barrymore.

Jimmy Walker
In case you haven't guessed, Hope plays Walker, in a rare dramatic role. Both the film and the book seem to take the attitude that it was forgivable for "Beau James" to take loads of bribes because He Loved His City. The charming rogue stereotype worked overtime during that period, for sure.

The music has little to do with this, of course, and it at least is enjoyable. In it, music director Joe Lilley weaves together smooth versions of standards of the age (including "Manhattan," of course). Both Hope and columnist Walter Winchell intone obsequies to Walker over the title music. Winchell returns to do the same, even more fulsomely, over the closing number.

Imogene Lynn
The singing on the LP is handled by Hope and Imogene Lynn, who dubs the vocals of love interest Vera Miles. That's Miles on the cover, seemingly dressed as a nun, smooching a uninterested Hope, who appears to be an invalid.

Hope of course could sing, and introduced a number of notable tunes, but here the 54-year-old's voice is dry. The talented Lynn is much better, particularly in "Someone to Watch Over Me." A former band singer, she cycled through such vocal groups as the Merry Macs before becoming a studio artist who handled a good number of film dubbing assignments.

The one original song on the soundtrack is "His Honor the Mayor of New York," with music by Lilley and words by the ubiquitous Sammy Cahn. It is a duet by Hope and Jimmy Durante, set during a tribute dinner to Walker. The number eventually turns into a soft-shoe version of "Sidewalks of New York."

The anticlimactic "Tammany Parade March" follows, and completing the LP is the closing medley with Winchell voice-over. The columnist and radio personality would forever be associated with the Jazz Age, although the Walker regime (1926-32) was near the beginning of his career. A few years after this film was made, Winchell would provide the staccato intros for the wildly popular American television show The Untouchables, which dramatized (and romanticized) Eliot Ness' government agents battling the Capone mob in 1920s Chicago.

Paris Holiday


Hope returned to comedy and better voice in 1958 for his caper film Paris Holiday, sharing billing with French comic Fernandel and supported by Martha Hyer and Anita Ekberg.

The "soundtrack" album includes music written for the film by Joe Lilley, which is pleasant and well arranged. It adds two songs by Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen, the title tune and "Nothing in Common." The latter had been slated for the film - as a duet for Hope and Hyer - but was cut. So Hope decided to reunite with Bing Crosby to do a version for the quasi-soundtrack LP, adding a special version of the title tune as well. Bing did not appear in the movie, but does show up on the front and back covers of the LP.


In bringing in Bing for "Nothing in Common," Bob hoped to rekindle the repartee that marked their duets from their Road pictures. Cahn's lyrics even references the studio for those films, Paramount, even though Paris Holiday was released by United Artists. Some of you may be familiar with the version of "Nothing in Common" that Frank Sinatra cut with Keely Smith. Same tune, but completely different words by the remarkably glib Cahn - possibly the lyrics slated for the Hope-Hyer duet. Both the Hope-Crosby and Sinatra-Smith versions were recorded at about the time of the film's release in early 1958. On the LP, "Nothing in Common" appears twice, via the duet and an instrumental. The Cahn-Van Heusen title song shows up three times.

The album also offers a few chestnuts in blossom such as "The Last Time I Saw Paris" and "April in Paris." The liner notes explain that Hope's "madcap memories of Paris" inspired him to record these "for posterity" (and probably money). He sings both songs with chorus - very well, too. He indulges in a comic dialogue with a unknown actress in "The Last Time I Saw Paris," and a monologue in  "April in Paris."

The 45 picture sleeves
In addition to the LP, United Artists released the Hope-Crosby songs as a single with a double-sided picture sleeve, then packaged those numbers with Bob's Paris tunes to make up an EP.

Both albums are in good-sounding mono. I don't believe either was ever issued in stereo. Paris Holiday was United Artists' first soundtrack LP.

11 June 2013

Melchior in 'Two Sisters from Boston'

This is the second installment in my miniature tour through Lauritz Melchior's less exalted musical moments, which has been received with breathtaking indifference by readers of this blog. The first was his 1950 recording of highlights from Romberg's The Student Prince (newly remastered here).

For this post, we have a 1946 album presenting songs from Two Sisters from Boston, an M-G-M musical set in the early 20th century in which the sisters were portrayed by Kathryn Grayson and June Allyson. To be more exact, it plunders Liszt and Mendelssohn to concoct noisy cod arias that Melchior attacks with some enthusiasm in his role as an imperious tenor. In the Mendelssohn, he is joined by Nadine Conner, taking the place of Grayson.

Nadine Conner
The film is available in its entirety on YouTube. Of most interest to record fanatics will be a scene that places Melchior at an early acoustic recording session. The recording director keeps having to push the powerful tenor back from the recording horn to avoid overloading the primitive apparatus, while the musicians rush up to the horn so their solos can be heard. This leads to an entirely fanciful scene in which Melchior's dog cocks his head at the sound of "his master's voice" coming from the playback gramophone (see cover above).

The record album also includes Melchior's go at "The House I Live In," which must have surprised Earl Robinson and Abel Meeropol, its writers. The song had become a hit in 1945, following its use in a short film on tolerance starring Frank Sinatra. Melchior's version is coupled with his first attempt at the Serenade from The Student Prince.

RCA's sound is OK. The arias are conducted by Charles Previn; the other songs by Jay Blackton.

(Note: May 2024): this set has now been remastered in ambient stereo. Also, I've added two of co-star Jimmy Durante's songs from the film, "G'wan Home, Your Mudder's Callin'" and "There Are Two Sides to Ev'ry Girl," from a commercial recording on the Majestic label. More information about these songs can be found on my other blog; needless to say, they were not based on Mendelssohn or Liszt.)





17 December 2011

Christmas Music from M-G-M

The M-G-M label issued quite a number of Christmas singles in the 1950s, and this 1958 LP on its budget Lion label presents a good selection.

We start with several items from 1950. One of the label's issues that year was a enjoyable double-78 set from the popular hillbilly-hokum band, the Korn Kobblers. Three of the four items on the 78 set are repackaged here. (The pianist-arranger for this group was Marty Gold, who later made many space-age pop LPs.)

Lionel Barrymore had made a famous recording of "A Christmas Carol" a few years earlier. He followed it in 1950 with a breathless dash through "'Twas the Night before Christmas." Finally from that year, we have delightful Jimmy Durante versions of "Frosty, the Snow Man" and "Christmas Comes But Once a Year." Roy Bargy conducts.

We skip ahead to 1953, and Little Rita Faye's twangy "I Fell Out of a Christmas Tree." Also from that year is "Tom and Jerry Meet Santa Claus," with music by Leroy Holmes. These are the narrated antics of the cartoon characters, who did not speak - seems a little strange.

Leslie Uggams began making Christmas records in 1953, as a 10-year-old. Here we have her 1954 entry, "The Fat, Fat Man," which is a little too show-bizzy for my taste.

More to my liking is a relatively big hit from 1955 (and a gigantic favorite with the young Buster), "Nuttin' for Christmas," an Art Mooney record with a wonderfully convincing vocal from the great Barry Gordon. For 1956, Gordon changed into a good kid, and came out with the cheery "I Like Christmas." I prefer the kid who "ain't been nuttin' but bad."

The final item is also from 1956, I believe. It is from Mary Mayo, a fine singer who mostly was a studio vocalist. Here she presents "God Bless You, Little Children."

Good sound on these.