1936 On the Continent

literary cabarets, which are called not cabarets but Théâtres des Chansonniers. Scenery and “dressing” are completely ignored here. The first part of the programme is usually filled with solo numbers, then follows the “revue,” which is really a loose sequence of scenes with a common basic idea. Here everything turns on the literary and political-satirical note, with a veritable fireworks of wit. The famous domestic
chansonniers
of these small theatres, such as the Noctambule, Théâtre de Dix Heures, Lune Russe, Deux Anes, etc., mostly write their own songs. These popular idols of the public include Martini, Jean Marsac, Souplex, and so on.
    These cabarets also have a long tradition. They were fathered—or grandfathered—by the great Aristide Bruant, the singer of Montmartre, the singer of the apaches, the little vamps with the red shawls, the Bohemians, beggars and
clochards
. Horrible murders and tender love, daggers and roses, hearts and unmentionable parts of the anatomy, mingled in his
chansons
to a saucily sentimental, stronglyrevolutionary mixture. Bruant was really a late edition of Francois Villon, a successor of the medieval bandit-poet whose figure was recently revived in the “Opera de quat’ sous.” He was a great poet, this Aristide Bruant, with his black velvet jacket, his, phenomenal necktie, and his colossal black sombrero, and he enjoyed an enormous popularity in the old Montmartre and in the Paris that was the heart of the world.
    A whole generation of
chansonniers
had sat at his feet. Then, with the turn of the century, came industrialisation, the new world, and apaches and Bohemianism were swept into the dustbin. Those who wanted to continue the old Montmartre tradition at all costs gradually sank in the morass of a sham jollity. This still continues.; the Cabaret Bruant (without the Master, naturally), the Chat Noir, and the Rat Mort still exist, and if you enter one of them the waiters and waitresses will still greet you with some obligatory rude “witticism” like “Tête-croquemort”; but all this is pitifully sad and stale, like beer that has gone flat. Nor are the obscenities dished up to visitors by some ancient female calculated to inject cheerfulness into the gloomy atmosphere.
    The genuine heirs of the French cabaret are those who have kept the old tradition alive by adapting it, to the living spirit of the times and giving it topicality. They are the cabaret-theatres we have mentioned—Dix Heures, Noctambule, etc.
The Real Real Cabarets
    There is another type of pure cabarets which are also successors to the great Bruant tradition, but with a different tendency; they concentrate not on witty topicality but on the cultivation of the old French
chanson
and folk-song. There is no stage at these cabarets. The audience sit round plain tables all over the room, and it is they who decide which of their favourite songs should be sung. Two such establishments that are really worth visiting are the Lapin agile in the Rue des Saules on Montmartre, and Caveaux des oubliettes rouges near the Place St. Michel, behind the church of St. Julien le Pauvre. It is best to visit either of these between 10 and 11 at night; it is atradition of both that visitors should drink
cerises
, a delicious cherry brandy.
    The big music-halls and variety theatres are very different from these. They do not go “all out” for wit and subtle points, or the charm of old
chansons
and the intimacy of the old Paris, though the really good big revues contain traces of all these. But the main thing is large-scale production, an impressive mobilisation of light effects, scenery, costume and nudity, a dazzling Niagara of eroticism. Folies Bergère and Casino de Paris still lead in such productions and deserve their undiminished world fame.
Come to the Circus
    In addition to the Folies and the Casino there are a number of big and medium theatres of this type, with or without a specific character. There is the Alcazar, which specialises in nude revues, but this is by no means so exciting as it sounds, for too much nudity renders the spectator indifferent. The Alhambra, under its new management, has recently experienced a tremendous revival; it specialises in variety, and the careful selection of the best international artists and turns has raised it to the level of the famous Hamburg Alcazar and the Berlin Scala. The A.B.C. is a happy mixture of cabaret and revue theatre with excellent solo turns. And,