Cinema's first all-talkie feature film was completely different than the prestige picture Warner Brothers Studios had planned to debut its improved audible format. Studio heads Harry and Jack Warner had in their minds to produce a high-end production movie with an entire cast heard speaking from beginning to end of the movie. But they had delayed their ambitious project well after their October 1927 hit "The Jazz Singer" had quaked the film industry because they felt their audible technology, Vitaphone, just wasn't quite advanced enough to deliver an entire movie with synchronous dialogue. They had stuck to their original plan to continue to roll out their movies with musical soundtracks and sound effects, with an occasional short (30 minutes or less) dramatic film to demonstrate their sound-on-disc process.
Warners' intention was for their director, Bryan Foy, to produce a two-reel short about a couple of barbers who buy what they think is a barbershop, only to discover the place is a front for an illegal speakeasy. When the Warners, returning from Europe promoting the studio's "The Jazz Singer," found out, unbeknownst to them, Foy had made July 1928's "Lights of New York," a full-blown 60-minute movie consisting of one-hundred percent talking, it blew their minds. They had no intention of having a low-budget production become their studio's--and Hollywood's--first feature film with completely filled audible dialogue.
Foy and his crew, taking advantage of the Warners being away, expanded the plot and its dialogue of their short film. The director asked Louis Halper, the executive in charge while the brothers were away, for a bit more money, about $10,000, to complete the movie. The Warners, not being told about the doubling of the film's length, forked over the extra cash. When they returned, they told Foy to cut the movie in half. Foy felt the movie's length was perfect and took the liberty to show "Lights of New York" to a friend who happen to be a film distributor. Impressed, he immediately offered to pay the production cost of $25,000 for the film's rights. When the Warners heard about the potential deal, they had their second oldest brother, Albert, view the movie. He loved it. Warner Brothers proceeded to show "Lights of New York" in several lower-tiered "grind-house" theaters equipped with the Vitaphone system. Despite the critics' largely negative reviews of the film, to the surprise of Warner Brothers, viewers lined outside the theaters' doors to catch this novelty of a film. Taking in more than $1.25 million dollars, "Lights of New York" became one of the most profitable motion pictures in the history of cinema in terms of ratio of its production expenses versus box office receipts.
"Lights of New York" confirmed to Hollywood the public's yearning to hear what movie characters were saying on the screen. If "The Jazz Singer" introduced the feature film to singing and to a two-minute burst of dialogue, "The Lights of New York" successfully showcased a full-length movie that was sustainable with total talking voices. Even the most reluctant critic eventually saw the benefits of 'talkies." The New Yorker review claimed, "The talking films have not even progressed to their infancy yet. Bad as it is, though, the film shows what I have been very reluctant to believe, that audibility will be a great help to the movies." The feature film spurred the movie industry to quicken the pace of talkies even more so then "The Jazz Singer" did.
Foy, the oldest of the original vaudeville members, 'Eddie Foy and The Seven Little Foys,' was taking quite a gamble staking his career on "Lights of New York.' Before then, he had directed just one other short film, 'The Swell Head,' a musical, and was helming what he thought was just another short. There had never been a completely audio synchronized feature film using the latest dialogue-capturing technology before, and many veteran silent movie directors were hesitant to handle the new devices in its early days. Studio technicians had placed their microphones inside and behind inconspicuous areas between the actors, situating them inside telephones on desks (the most popular space to hide mics in early sound movies), behind furniture, in flower pots, and even underneath the performers outside the camera frame. The filming involved noisy mechanical motorized cameras, set up inside sound-proof boxes to muffle their sound, with microphone wires directly connected to the Vitaphone recorder off set. It's interesting to see groups of actors bunched up close to the hidden mic so their voices can be captured.
"Lights of New York," was a gangster movie offering a couple of dance numbers. The premise proved sound was ideal for the two genres: crime and musicals. Movies with songs were especially popular during the early stages of talkies by offering popular hits on the screen. Also, the distinctive voices of certain actors stood out and guaranteed future success during the transition to sound. A good example is Eugene Pallette, a veteran of silent films who played Gene, one of the barbers. He spoke in an unusual gravelly voice, which was his calling card in a number of films well into the late 1940s. "Lights of New York" proved to be another nail, a big one, in the coffin sealing the fate of silent movies.
Warners' intention was for their director, Bryan Foy, to produce a two-reel short about a couple of barbers who buy what they think is a barbershop, only to discover the place is a front for an illegal speakeasy. When the Warners, returning from Europe promoting the studio's "The Jazz Singer," found out, unbeknownst to them, Foy had made July 1928's "Lights of New York," a full-blown 60-minute movie consisting of one-hundred percent talking, it blew their minds. They had no intention of having a low-budget production become their studio's--and Hollywood's--first feature film with completely filled audible dialogue.
Foy and his crew, taking advantage of the Warners being away, expanded the plot and its dialogue of their short film. The director asked Louis Halper, the executive in charge while the brothers were away, for a bit more money, about $10,000, to complete the movie. The Warners, not being told about the doubling of the film's length, forked over the extra cash. When they returned, they told Foy to cut the movie in half. Foy felt the movie's length was perfect and took the liberty to show "Lights of New York" to a friend who happen to be a film distributor. Impressed, he immediately offered to pay the production cost of $25,000 for the film's rights. When the Warners heard about the potential deal, they had their second oldest brother, Albert, view the movie. He loved it. Warner Brothers proceeded to show "Lights of New York" in several lower-tiered "grind-house" theaters equipped with the Vitaphone system. Despite the critics' largely negative reviews of the film, to the surprise of Warner Brothers, viewers lined outside the theaters' doors to catch this novelty of a film. Taking in more than $1.25 million dollars, "Lights of New York" became one of the most profitable motion pictures in the history of cinema in terms of ratio of its production expenses versus box office receipts.
"Lights of New York" confirmed to Hollywood the public's yearning to hear what movie characters were saying on the screen. If "The Jazz Singer" introduced the feature film to singing and to a two-minute burst of dialogue, "The Lights of New York" successfully showcased a full-length movie that was sustainable with total talking voices. Even the most reluctant critic eventually saw the benefits of 'talkies." The New Yorker review claimed, "The talking films have not even progressed to their infancy yet. Bad as it is, though, the film shows what I have been very reluctant to believe, that audibility will be a great help to the movies." The feature film spurred the movie industry to quicken the pace of talkies even more so then "The Jazz Singer" did.
Foy, the oldest of the original vaudeville members, 'Eddie Foy and The Seven Little Foys,' was taking quite a gamble staking his career on "Lights of New York.' Before then, he had directed just one other short film, 'The Swell Head,' a musical, and was helming what he thought was just another short. There had never been a completely audio synchronized feature film using the latest dialogue-capturing technology before, and many veteran silent movie directors were hesitant to handle the new devices in its early days. Studio technicians had placed their microphones inside and behind inconspicuous areas between the actors, situating them inside telephones on desks (the most popular space to hide mics in early sound movies), behind furniture, in flower pots, and even underneath the performers outside the camera frame. The filming involved noisy mechanical motorized cameras, set up inside sound-proof boxes to muffle their sound, with microphone wires directly connected to the Vitaphone recorder off set. It's interesting to see groups of actors bunched up close to the hidden mic so their voices can be captured.
"Lights of New York," was a gangster movie offering a couple of dance numbers. The premise proved sound was ideal for the two genres: crime and musicals. Movies with songs were especially popular during the early stages of talkies by offering popular hits on the screen. Also, the distinctive voices of certain actors stood out and guaranteed future success during the transition to sound. A good example is Eugene Pallette, a veteran of silent films who played Gene, one of the barbers. He spoke in an unusual gravelly voice, which was his calling card in a number of films well into the late 1940s. "Lights of New York" proved to be another nail, a big one, in the coffin sealing the fate of silent movies.