Criterion Returns King of Jazz to Its Rightful Throne | TV/Streaming
And yet, these complaints can be easily dismissed if one looks at “King of Jazz” less as a film and more as a time capsule of what was the rage in American popular entertainment around 1929-1930. Although it is not an adaptation of a specific show, the film does offer viewers at least some idea of what audiences could expect to see in a revue show from that era. There is a smorgasbord of talent on display here—singers, dancers, comedians, musicians and the like—and while Crosby is the only one that the average contemporary viewer might recognize, it is fascinating to see them all going through their paces at the peak of their powers. The enterprise as a whole is so odd, both in concept and execution, that even when it isn’t working per se, it still manages to evoke a strange but undeniable hold.
In fact, it is that very fascination that helped to keep the memory of the film alive for decades and would eventually lead to its restoration and revival. For decades, “King of Jazz” had essentially disappeared from view—no 16mm prints were made for non-theatrical outlets, it was neither reissued in theaters after 1934 nor was it included in the package of films Universal sold to television in 1957. While a cut-down version of the negative did exist, prints could not be made from it because the two-color Technicolor process it utilized was long obsolete. Over the years, however, bits and pieces were found and put together by archivists and a near-complete print of the film, rumored to have once been in the personal film collection of Benito Mussolini, was uncovered in the late ‘60s. In the ‘80s, a version of the film cobbled together from both the 1930 and 1933 editions was released to cable and home video by MCA Universal, who pushed Crosby as its star despite his relatively brief screen time. Never released on DVD, this version would fall into obscurity as well once VHS faded from view. In 2002, an 83-minute nitrate print of the film was found in a shipment of crates of titles owned by late collector Raymond Rohauer that were sent to the Library of Congress. In 2010, NBCUniversal spearheaded a major restoration of the film utilizing this print and elements cobbled together from other sources (with still photos used to represent the few moments that simply could not be found) to recreate the version of the film that audiences saw in 1930. (The story of this restoration is recounted in much greater detail in King of Jazz: Paul Whiteman’s Technicolor Revue, James Layton and David Pierce’s book chronicling the entire history of the film and its key participants.)
While the restoration of “King of Jazz” alone would have been enough to make this Blu-ray a must-own for students of American film, stage and pop culture history, Criterion has gone the extra mile with a slew of exceptional special features that help give greater context to the film. Music/film critic Gary Giddins offers an introduction to the film and is joined by cultural critic Gene Seymour and bandleader Vince Giordano for an informative commentary tackling the history of both the movie and Whiteman himself. Layton and Pierce contribute four visual essays chronicling the film’s history and additional insight is offered up in an interview with musician Michael Feinstein. The scenes added for the 1933 reissue are included here as well as an alternate opening title sequence. There are also a number of vintage shorts on hand as well, including “All Americans,” a 1929 effort featuring a different version of the “Melting Pot” number, a couple of 1930 cartoons from Walter Lantz featuring Oswald the Lucky Rabbit that include material taken from the film’s cartoon sequence and “I Know Everybody and Everybody’s Racket,” an odd but fascinating 1933 comedy short featuring infamous Broadway columnist Walter Winchell playing himself, here squiring a seemingly innocent young lass around the streets of New York on an evening jaunt that includes a stop to see Whiteman and his orchestra playing. Throw in an informative essay from film critic Farran Smith Nehme and you have one what will surely go down as one of the best Blu-ray releases of a vintage film to come along this year and one that will hopefully return “King of Jazz” to the rightful place in the history of early sound film that it so richly deserves.
(“King of Jazz” is now available on DVD and Blu-ray from The Criterion Collection.)
