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Nile Kinnick correspondence, March-October 1943
1943-04-14: Page 04
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Going from the sublime to the ridiculous, I took Ellie to see Sons of Fun starring Olsen and Johns on Sunday night. It is a second edition of Hellzapoppin, rough-house comedy from start to finish, uproarious, hilarious, episodic, crazy, wild, exhausting. I wish Gus and Uncle Chas could have been on hand to see the fun. Frank Libuse put on his little act with the piano and female singer which I saw at Bill Rose's Diamond Horseshoe in the winter of 1940 and again in the summer at the World's Fair. There were better shows in town, but I couldn't get tickets. The stage really does a booming, land-office business during war time. At the Paramount Theatre, I saw Saroyan's "The Human Comedy," an appealing, heart-tugging little story of a family which experienced both joy and grief and met them equally well. Mickey Rooney was good, but mostly he needed a haircut. Frank Morgan is always delightful, but Jackie Jenkins stole the show. His wistful, freckled little face, his tears and smiles, his disconnected questions pictured the emotions and thought of a childhood we all knew at one time or another. Les Brown's orchestra held forth on stage, and it was good-much better than when I last heard him at the Blackhawk in Chicago. Vaugh Monroe was playing in
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Going from the sublime to the ridiculous, I took Ellie to see Sons of Fun starring Olsen and Johns on Sunday night. It is a second edition of Hellzapoppin, rough-house comedy from start to finish, uproarious, hilarious, episodic, crazy, wild, exhausting. I wish Gus and Uncle Chas could have been on hand to see the fun. Frank Libuse put on his little act with the piano and female singer which I saw at Bill Rose's Diamond Horseshoe in the winter of 1940 and again in the summer at the World's Fair. There were better shows in town, but I couldn't get tickets. The stage really does a booming, land-office business during war time. At the Paramount Theatre, I saw Saroyan's "The Human Comedy," an appealing, heart-tugging little story of a family which experienced both joy and grief and met them equally well. Mickey Rooney was good, but mostly he needed a haircut. Frank Morgan is always delightful, but Jackie Jenkins stole the show. His wistful, freckled little face, his tears and smiles, his disconnected questions pictured the emotions and thought of a childhood we all knew at one time or another. Les Brown's orchestra held forth on stage, and it was good-much better than when I last heard him at the Blackhawk in Chicago. Vaugh Monroe was playing in
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