- The Birmingham Hippodrome -

Star Joins Irish Party

The already strong Irish contingent residing on the east side of the city is temporarily increased this week by the appearance at Aston Hippodrome of a number of talented Irish entertainers with their songs and lovely dances from the Emerald Isle.  Terry Hall, singing the nostalgic melodies of his native country, heads the company that was joined this afternoon by none other than America's own colleen - Judy Garland, who joined the troupe on stage and led them with her marvelous rendition of "It's a Great Day for the Irish."  Seemingly shy and not prepared the good-natured singer delivered the most amazing version of "Danny Boy" without any musical accompaniment that I have ever heard.  The audience begged her for more but the gracious showstopper or stealer as the case may be declined, kissed Hall and returned the show to it's now all too provincial stars.

Also on the bill, Stan White and Ann in a spot of comedy, Terry Hall and Eileen O'Hara, each making worthy contributions in song, but second rate after their special guest.  The show ends on a hilarious note with a typical Irish party joined of course by Miss Garland who invited everyone to her show at the Birmingham Hippodrome.

On to the stage of the Birmingham Hippodrome, to the strains of "Over the Rainbow," there walked a plumpish woman with a friendly manner which matched her friendly face with it's wide, friendly smile, friendly little nose and merest suggestion of a friendly double chin.

There were dimples on cheek and elbow and a friendly dimple at the very heart of her which had everyone on friendly terms with one another and most of all with her.

Such was Judy Garland, one time darling of a thousand cinema screens, but in deliberate pursuance of an objective and dispassionate mood I endeavoured to forget the fact, to regard her as an anonymous newcomer to variety's ranks and to decide if, were she an unknown contributor to a Hippodrome bill, she would be worthy of her spurs.  And Judy Garland won hands down.

For more than half an hour she went her amiable, carefree and entirely natural way, singing the not very good songs which had brought her same in another by no means negligible medium, and interspersing them with the silliest and most engaging chatter.

The microphone was no friend of hers any more than it is ever a friend of anyone who has claims to being an artist and a personality in their own right, but she defeated even that and I verily believe she had the hard face of that abominable mechanical contrivance smiling back at her before she had finished.

She asked the audience to elect the songs they would have her sing, and sometimes there were as many as half a dozen simultaneous nominations.  She sang "Rock a Bye" (which I liked) and of course, by way of grande finale sintimentale - "Over the Rainbow."  Naturally, her fans loved it all, and so did many who were not her fans, but will doubtless be so hereafter, for it was certainly a happy garland which was woven for us on a damp Monday evening in the Midlands "that are sodden and unkind."

The way to the star was not without it's tribulations for it was strewn with several of the acts which I most dislike - harmonicas, accordions, performing dogs - but which are invariably received  with approbation.  I was ready to add impressionists to my list until Clifford Stanton came on with his "personalities on parade" and gave such a rattling good series of impersonations as to cause me to feel ashamed of harbouring the thought.

C.L.W.

Judy Garland
at the
Hippodrome

A Mature Artist

Behind the welcome that Birmingham gave to Judy Garland at Birmingham Hippodrome last night lurked the reluctant thought that Wendy has grown up.  It was balanced immediately by the discovery that here is a mature artist in her own right.  Miss Garland has been lucky.  She started in vaudeville when she was - what? - three and has returned to her first love by way of what has been called the celluloid medium.

Whatever the vicissitudes through which she has passed, she remains the child of the music hall, and as such, appeals still to those who love the palace of variety.  She sings her song - however much you may dislike it - in a big way.

Inevitably, she finished her act with Over the Rainbow, and the mind goes back to 1939 when all the world - and Judy Garland - were young.  With it all is a supreme sense of rhythm, a swinging of hips undreamed of, in the halcyon days and, above all, a contralto voice that some tastes may think could have been put to better use.

Where Miss Garland scores is in her appeal to the homelier instincts.  For instance, her shoes hurt her and she kicks them off with wholly feminine relief.  She twists her hair and looks tired - as undoubtedly she is - and everyone thinks of one of the world sweethearts, ill-used, but still smiling.  Whatever else she does, Judy Garland has chosen a part in music hall that shall not be taken from her.

In comparison, the rest of the show is mediocre.  If to the epicure the soup is luke-warm and the fish below par, the main dish is worth waiting for.