The Silver Belles
Black chorus dancers--who knew? Harlem's chorus girls of yore had been a piece of lost show-biz history known only to long-time residents living above 125th street in New York City. Filmmaker Heather Lyn MacDonald has changed all that "outing" and showcasing these octo-genarian chorus dancers in her film, "Been Rich All My Life," which is now making its way across the country to local movie houses after a successful July opening in New York City.
Several years ago MacDonald had attended a benefit at the uptown Cotton Club in New York City and saw these dancers, the Silver Belles, in performance. She was awestruck, and knew instantly that it was necessary for her to preserve on film the stories of their extraordinary lives. "I am a tap dance aficionado," MacDonald said, further explaining that her lifelong interest did not necessarily translate to her toe/heel proficiency. "I love dance, and I love older people. These ladies were interesting subjects to me. I tracked them down, found their manager, and began the project." The film's title alludes to the bounteous lives of these sassy women. We meet them, learn about their background, and follow them, as they appear dancing behind artists like Cab Calloway, Louis Armstrong, and Bojangles on the legendary stages of Harlem.
In the 30's, 40's, and 50's the people of Harlem would come to see new headliners every week at elegant theaters like the Apollo, Small's Paradise, or Connie's Inn. Behind the stars were sixteen chorus dancers, usually the same stunning creatures, and the audiences became familiar with them. These dazzling women were the show biz queens of those days and were so important that they literally put the Apollo Theatre on the map. They also led the first strike by black performers picketing in front of the Apollo for wage increases and eventually establishing the AGVA union (The American Guild of Variety Artists.) Besides being active they personified glamour. Stage Door Johnnies, glittering dresses, fur wraps, exotic travel adventures, movie star parties, were part of their storied lifestyle. But enduring friendships were the bottom line. "They were chorus dancers who loved each other," MacDonald explained. "They would alert each other to job openings in clubs or on tours. Even though they didn't always work together, they looked out for each other."
The film lets the women talk freely and supplements their dialogue with black and white archival footage, shots of performances, and recollections of the sad and happy times in their personal lives. We watch them cope with the disappearance of chorus lines during WW ll, as the clubs closed down and they were forced to turn to other jobs like bartending, cab driving, even welding to support themselves and their families.
It was Jeri Kennedy's idea to reassemble the dancers and become their manager. In 1985 they went into rehearsal at Small's, which soon closed. John Lee Beatty, owner of the present day Cotton Club, came to the rescue and provided a place for the "Belles" to rehearse and "hang" whenever they wanted too. It became their clubhouse. The Silver Belles were about to launch their comeback.
Five original members are highlighted in the film. At the time the film was made the ages were Bertye Lou Wood 96, (now deceased) Cleo Hayes 89, Marion Coles 88, (widow of the great tap dancer Honi Coles,) Elaine Ellis 86, and Fay Ray, at 84 the youngest of the group. MacDonald, with hand-held camera and sometimes working alone with a sound mixer strapped to her body shot them in many settings including the last few days of Bertye's life in the hospital with touching segments of the women dancing the "Shim Sham Shimmy" at her funeral.
But mostly MacDonald's film is as upbeat as the spiffy dancers that take part in it. Her camera follows the women backstage while they are getting ready, putting on costumes, shoes, and applying lipstick. We watch them gabbing with each other, practicing the steps, complaining that they can no longer do turns, or the old time routines, finally giggling at the audacity of what they are about to do as they climb the stairs to the stage. "The ladies are not vain," MacDonald emphasized. "Wrinkles are not an issue. On the contrary, they are classy dames with a great sense of self. They don't ask for privileges and are not spoiled. They are simply concerned with looking sharp, and presenting themselves with a certain elegance." MacDonald believes this lack of being spoiled may have to do with growing up black in a society that treated them less than. "As chorus dancers they had to scramble for a living," she continued. "Though audiences came to see them as much as the headliners, they were still the lowest on the totem pole. But they were happy and as Fay said on the film,'.... if I had my life to live over, Oh...I would do it all again.'"
The lasting impression is that these ladies are a lucky lot. Through all the physical and personal setbacks that come with aging they are thankful they can still walk on stage in layered fringe dresses, kick up their legs, and be together.
Marion: "The main thing is to dance, and at our age we are still able to do it."
Fay: "I light up like a Christmas tree when I get out there. I want to do it. Let's get it on. Play the music!"
Cleo: If I do something really wrong, I laugh because that's all I can do is laugh about it."
Elaine: We don't walk on like elderly people. We come on ready to dance."
Bertye: I may be old, but I'm not cold. I'm going to dance, dance, dance 'til I can't dance no more."
Visit the website and view the trailer! www.tootscrackin.com.