Oversight Marathon: The Jazz Singer (1927)

Imagine yourself, growing up during World War I.  You are seven when the war ends.  How have you come to deal with the torture of the world around you?  You have turned to radio.  You have turned to the nickelodeons and theaters that have begun to pop up.  These forms of entertainment help to get your mind off the woes of the world around you.

Kick into the twenties.  These are the roaring twenties.  Silent films are magnificent.  You’re getting to know Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin through watching them on the big screen.  You are in love with the silver screen and all that goes along with it.  The actors and actresses are your idols.

It’s 1925.  You’re 14 now.  You have grown an interest in girls over the past five years.  You have also grown into your own man.  Every week you take a trip to see the newest picture because you are invested in film as a form of art.  Not only do you want to see the movies, now you want to live in Hollywood and help produce them.  You need a few more years to grow up and perfect your craft as a potential great silent film star.

Two years later, it’s 1927.  You’ve got your gal and you’re headed to the theater to see the newest picture called The Jazz Singer.  You’ve heard good things about it from people who know people who know people who are in the business.  You buy your tickets and head inside.

The theater smells like popcorn.  The sounds of the popcorn machine can still be heard from outside.  People are talking to one another about the many different things in life, whether it is family, work, or the ball game.  None of this matters to you because you are here to lose yourself and your gal in the grandiosity of the silver screen.  He lights dim and The Jazz Singer begins.

You’re having fun with The Jazz Singer.  The acting is good.  The music is fun.  Wait.  What just happened?  Did the main character just sing?  You must have been imagining that.  There is no way that there was just singing in the movie.  It’s a silent film.

“Wait a minute.  Wait a minute.  You ain’t heard nothin’ yet.”

He spoke!  The main character in the movie spoke!  You are shocked and in amazement.  You look at everyone around you.  Did they notice?  This is a huge moment in film.  This isn’t a silent film!  This is partly silent, yes.  But they speak.  This is...well, it’s a talkie!

Your heart is racing.  Your life is changing.  Movies will never be the same again.  You know it.

Now, I don’t have an ending to this story...but place yourself in here and imagine your reaction if you had grown up in the era of silent film, and watched The Jazz Singer on opening night.  The experience is almost unrivaled in terms of the changing of film as an art form.

That, my friends, is why The Jazz Singer is important.