More rare gems.

New information on Edith Meinhard is still as scarce as ever, but I have made a couple of relevant acquisitions recently. Featured below are promotional portraits for the 1931 film Voruntersuchung, notably starring Gustav Frohlich of Metropolis fame. Having been made available for the first time in at least three years, I knew I had to make them mine. Edith is Mella Ziehr, a prostitute who returns home one morning to the scene of a grisly murder, the memory of which torments her through the duration of the film. Her social status is largely irrelevant; she is treated with dignity (except by the detectives, of course) and becomes a sympathetic character. Another great performance by Edith, and one of the few surviving films in which she has a substantial role. There is a DVD available with optional English subtitles, and it's well worth a watch.

Some Saturday Follies.

Having taken an extra long weekend to burn up a glut of vacation days from work, I've finally had a chance to scan some of my vintage ephemera. I wanted to share a collection of photos of Anastasia Reilly, dancer with the Ziegfeld Follies and pal of Louise Brooks, who spoke glowingly of Reilly; leaving show business behind, she married Theodore Buhl (nephew of Flo Ziegfeld) in 1927 and moved to Grosse Pointe, Michigan where she was an editor of the local paper. She sadly succumbed to cancer in 1961 but left behind tales of a colorful life.

"Stasia", as she was affectionately known, age 16.

In Brooklyn, her stomping grounds.

With mother Hattie in Atlantic City.

With Paulette Goddard in the Follies era. According to handwritten notes on the reverse, "Stasia always said she (Paulette) had lousy legs!"

In riding gear. Stasia was incredibly fond of animals and had a cattery on her own property.

 

I've saved the best for last...you'll recognize who's writing the ticket:

Follies wheeling around in 1925. Stasia's own notes are on the back: "Gag shot taken at Ethel Shutta's house- where we spent a weekend. The "cop" next to the car is Louise Brooks- my pal- who married Eddie Sutherland."

Signed, sealed, delivered.

Things have been quiet on the Edith Meinhard front for a while...that is, until I found this gem on eBay:

Most Edith-related auctions that come up are either film programs or DVDs, but my jaw dropped when I saw this photo postcard. It just had to be mine. The autograph is original, and most likely done around the same time the postcard was produced (early-to-mid-1930s). It seems that Edith was well-known and well-renowned enough to have fans seeking her autograph, and how comforting to know that she received the appreciation she deserved. Who knows what other treasures may be out there?

Little treasures...

I apologize for the minimal posting as of late. I took a full-time job just over two months ago, which forces me to be selective in what I do with what little free time I now have. Admittedly it's been difficult to find fulfillment and balance in my life as a result, but I'm bound and determined to keep my passions alive. One of my many wintertime projects is to scan the various paper ephemera and photographs I've collected over the years, for posterity and, more importantly, to share them with the world.


On with the show! Today's feature is a program from the Scala cabaret theater in Berlin, which was built in 1920 and with a great stroke of luck managed to survive most of the Nazi occupation; the theater faced severe destruction in 1943 and the remaining stages were shut down by the end of August, 1944.

If you look closely at the second scan, you'll recognize at least one of those names, and thus the reason for this post:

It seems that Edith Meinhard didn't give up theater after her 1928 film debut, but rather split her time between the stage and the silver screen. She worked with several of these actors in films: Hellmuth Kruger in Kabarett-Programm Nr. 3 (one of Kurt Gerron's short variety films), Rudolf Platte in Der Blaufuchs, and Else Reval in Der Herzensphotograph, Rote Orchideen, and Der andere Mann. My research hasn't turned up a great deal of information on her theater work in general, but programs like this provide invaluable information.

In the future I will have scans from various film programs, mostly from her films that have been lost or are otherwise unavailable for viewing. If anyone has more information regarding the Scala's programming or on Berlin theater in general, or if you have any information on Edith, feel free to share. Your thoughts are always welcome.

Another treasure unearthed...

Recently I've received a couple of comments from others interested in the lovely Edith Meinhard, which is wonderful! I haven't given up on her, but it's been tough to find any new information as of late...in English, that is. Using the right keywords makes all the difference, and tonight they've led me to a lovely surprise in an issue of Das Magazin from 1928:

I hope to have more updates for you soon, major or minor. I do keep her filmography post updated as new films become available to stream or purchase. Many thanks for the wonderful feedback!

Not "just a show".

There are a few factors that have brought about my interest in film: the Star Wars trilogy re-release that dominated my childhood, chancing upon a series of short silents on TCM that had me instantly hooked, the discovery of Louise Brooks and her sharp-witted Hollywood anecdotes. One thing I've never really discussed is my love of Mystery Science Theater 3000, the show where a man and his bots, marooned in space, are forced to watch cheesy B-movies and ultimately riff on them to help ease their pain (and ours). The show doesn't have much plot otherwise, save for the Sci-Fi Channel years in which time travel plotlines were forced upon the Brains. There's all kinds of information available for the uninitiated should you be interested in checking out MST3K yourself; as for a starting point, I'd recommend any episode from seasons 2-7 except for Manos: The Hands of Fate (you're better off working your way up to that one).

My collection of bots with a Gamera vs. Guiron mini-poster, signed by Joel Hodgson when he brought his one-man show, Riffing Myself, to the Dryden Theater this past May.

Sadly, I didn't get into the show until recently, though I do recall vague details from the original Comedy Central run (the bots, Joel and Mike, the Shadowrama in the theater, the "spaghetti ball" logo). There were so many things competing for my attention that I settled into all of the other weirdness '90s TV had to offer, and poor MST3K was left in the dust. Back in 2009, having just recently relocated to Cincinnati, I was browsing various websites, when I stumbled upon a clip from the show (though I honestly don't remember which episode). I was intrigued enough to start watching episodes whenever I could, realizing what a perfect gem I had neglected all those years ago. During a trip to Chicago that winter, I stepped into Reckless Records in the hopes of picking up some cheap CDs. They also had a section of used DVDs, and I noticed a few MST3K box sets in the mix. Volume 3 accompanied me on the chilly bus ride home, and I've never looked back.

 I had the pleasure of meeting Joel after the show in May. Every bit as nice and funny as you'd expect.

So why MST3K? Despite the theme song's claims, it's more than just a show to me. It's gotten me through difficult times, lifting my spirits enough to fight through any challenge, and I will always be grateful. It's also shaped the way I look at any film, good or bad. Sometimes even the biggest clunkers demonstrate a passion for the craft, and beloved classics could stand to be knocked down a peg. Riffing opens the door to critical thinking, an absolutely vital skill as nothing should be taken directly at face value. Less seriously, it's a chance to laugh and lighten ourselves up. The best riffing comes from a place of love (though most current Hollywood dreck shouldn't get off lightly), whether of the film itself, the characters in it, or the love of the medium. And when it's been elevated to an art form by the Best Brains, now behind RiffTrax and (the soon-to-be-ending, sadly) Cinematic Titanic, you can't help but fall in love yourself.

P.S. If you're looking for something to do this weekend, the Dryden Theater will be screening an episode of MST3K: Bride of the Monster. An excellent show at a valuable institution.

Oh, could she dance...

Sadly, there have been no major advances in my search for more information about Edith Meinhard's career...but I've come across a couple of interesting clippings that detail time spent working the cabaret circuit. Seeing her dance (and even sing) in films like Die Austernlilli, Hallo Janine!, and Musketier Meier III, I had a hunch that she had had some theater experience. It turns out that she was rubbing elbows with the likes of Rudolf Nelson and Kurt Gerron (her collaborator/co-star on several film projects).

The original source notes that this illustration is from a performance of "Glück muß man haben!"in 1930 at Rudolf Nelson's theater on Kurfürstendamm. Gerron is second from left, Meinhard is furthest right.

I still have a great deal of research ahead of me with regard to Berlin's cabaret scene, but I did find an advertisement from 1927 (with thanks to Google Books) in Rudolf Hösch's Kabarett von Gestern:

She was listed as a dancer in the first show, which confirms my suspicions, though I'd like to know what her role was in the Ilse Bois show. Perhaps it was one of her cabaret performances that caught the eye of a film executive...

I have also updated her filmography post, and will continue to do so as more of her films become available.