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Once considered a Lost Film, Alfred Santell's "Show Girl" (First National, 1928) was discovered in an Italian film vault in 2015 and given a fast-track restoration. I heard that when the restored print had its world premiere in Italy, the Vitaphone sound discs (previously thought to be all that remained of the movie) were somehow not part of the showing. What a loss! Fortunately, they were incorporated into the film by the time the George Eastman Museum (Rochester, NY) gave "Show Girl" its U.S. premiere on October 18, 2016.

When the film was originally released in late September, 1928, the movie industry was in a nervous state of transition from silent to sound movies. "Lights of New York," the first all-talking feature film had opened two months earlier, but most films showcasing the new technology were still not true talkies, possessing only a musical score, selected sound effects, and sometimes even a song or two. This interim period gave studios the chance to learn how to use sound effectively. "Show Girl" is a fine example of the fun which sound initially brought to the movies for a very short period before the new sound technology temporarily crushed the late silent era's fluid camera movement. As such, "Show Girl" is invaluably instructive and hugely entertaining, plus the jaunty music score is an absolute delight.

The film's success gave Alice White's career a big boost, having broken into pictures just a bit over a year (and a dozen films) before. She was adorable to 1928 audiences and her allure is still evident today. (That Miss White repeated her character two years later in "Show Girl in Hollywood" is one proof of the film's impact.) Beautiful, self-assured, and wise in the ways of Broadway producers, her Dixie Dugan character (based on J.P. McEvoy's novel, which later became a long-running comic strip) holds your attention throughout the well-paced film's running time (barely over an hour).

The real revelation of the film for me (and perhaps for other viewers) were the characters of Dixie's parents, expertly played by James Finlayson (of Laurel & Hardy fame)and Kate Price (an Irish-born actress, little-remembered today, with over 300 film credits extending back to 1910). Mrs. Dugan's overbearing personality matches her towering physical presence causing Mr. Dugan to frequently cower in terror whenever she questions anything he says or does. Their scenes are cleverly accented by the film's musical score as wailing musical instruments perfectly mesh with their on-screen words -- a great example of how the new sound possibilities could add to rather than detract from the silent tradition. (Of course a skilled piano player or organist could attempt something like this, but how many theaters had such a musician? And besides, their sounds were never as funny as what we hear on the soundtrack).

The writer of the screenplay (or perhaps it's the titles writer) unleashes wonderful lines and delightfully mangles the English language several times as when one character talks about hiding her light under a bustle. The titles are so endearing that I almost feel bad for faulting one obvious defect in the screenplay: Romano (Donald Reed), a jealous tango dancer who provides a key plot point (and a little over-the-top amusement) before suddenly dropping out of the picture. But why carp?

Silent fans, you're in for a real treat when you see this film. Hey, Warner Brothers, could you also fast-track the DVD release? I'd love to find this one under my Christmas tree this year.

Alice White is full of pep. She lives with her parents (James Finlayson, Kate Price) and her sister (Gwen Lee), dates lots of boys (Lee Moran, Charles Delaney), and dreams of becoming a star. She tricks her way into seeing a Broadway producer who advises her to get some experience performing in a night club, which she does, and she becomes a hit. What could have been a routine showbiz story became a notch better by the casting. Price and Finlayson have a reoccurring gag playing the hen and the pecked.

Dixie Dugan personified the flapper image: sassy, adorable, and bursting with vitality. She was created by J. P. McEvoy for a pair of highly popular comic novels, serialized in Liberty magazine during 1928-29. The character is best remembered now as the central figure in a long-running comic strip—one which far outlasted the era with which Dixie was identified—but even before the comic strip was launched, First National bought the rights to the material and adapted the first novel to the screen. (The second book would follow, two years later.) Up-and-coming starlet Alice White, blonde, 23 years old and cute as a button, was assigned the plum part of Dixie. Although the talkie revolution was under way, it was decided that Show Girl would be an all-silent feature, with jazzy musical accompaniment courtesy of the Vitaphone process. (The sequel, Show Girl in Hollywood, which also starred White, would be made with full sound.) And for icing on the cake, a number of familiar, seasoned character actors were signed for supporting roles.

When we first meet Dixie she's a working girl, living with her family in Brooklyn. Her Ma (Kate Price) is a beefy matron who may remind comic strip buffs of Toonerville Trolley's Katrinka, while her pint-sized, bald-headed Pa is thoroughly henpecked. (James Finlayson plays this role, cast very much against type.) Dixie's boyfriend Jimmy is a reporter, suitably cynical and wise-cracking. Although her circumstances are modest Dixie is ambitious, and when she auditions for a pair of producers she quickly lands a featured spot in a nightclub act, opposite a temperamental partner, Alvarez. She soon becomes involved with an older man, Jack Milton, whose interest in her is decidedly more than platonic. After a couple of melodramatic twists in the plot, including a false kidnapping stunt intended to boost her career, Dixie winds up as the star of a Broadway musical, written by Jimmy.

Clearly, this is not a deep or especially plot-driven film, nor was it ever meant to be one. Show Girl is a lightweight, diverting showcase for perky Alice White, and serves as a prime example of the kind of entertainment designed in its day to amuse the "tired businessman." The film's look and tone—and for that matter, its Vitaphone score—are reminiscent of the same studio's Colleen Moore vehicle Why Be Good? (Coincidentally, the only known surviving print of that feature was found in the same vault in Italy where, last year, the sole surviving print of Show Girl was located.) And while Alice White has a sweet, engaging quality, she's not in Moore's league as a comedienne. Much of the humor in Show Girl is carried by the saucy title cards rather than through visual comedy. Aficionados of '20s slang will have a field day with the language. One of my favorite examples is Dixie's unusual euphemism for bunkum; instead of relying on the more commonly used period expressions such as applesauce or horse feathers, she calls it "donkey fuzz!" (I guess that one didn't catch on.) Another plus are the dance numbers, which show off White's abilities to best advantage. I confess I was a little disappointed by the scenes involving Kate Price and Jimmy Finlayson as Dixie's parents. With these two comedy veterans I expected fireworks, but instead their byplay consists mostly of a single running gag, which in my opinion was repeated once or twice more than necessary before the inevitable pay-off.

Still, why quibble? I'm glad this feature was rediscovered—happily, complete and in pristine condition—and that the delightful Vitaphone score survives as well. Show Girl is a pleasant diversion, a welcome treat for silent film buffs, and a most agreeable way to spend an hour or so, whether or not you happen to be a tired businessman.