Ballyhoo. Now, here’s a word you don’t hear every day. At least not yet. It’s a 1920s term meaning extravagant, over-the-top, attention-generating words or actions for the purpose of publicity. Today, this is called a Donald Trump tweet.
Harry Reichenbach, one of the greatest ballyhooers of all time, does not rate much more than a passing mention in Wikipedia today. Born in 1882, he was the epitome of the perfect press agent. Some of his antics are legendary. He once promoted a woman known as “Sober Sue.” His tactic was to offer any comedian $1,000 if he could make her laugh. None could and she received a contract to the Victoria Theater in New York. “Sober Sue” could not laugh because she suffered from Mobius syndrome, a condition paralyzing facial muscles.
To publicize the movie The Return of Tarzan, he hired an actor to take a room in the Hotel Bellclaire in New York. Then, he took advantage of the empty alley behind the hotel and used a crane to raise a “pet lion” in a crate into the hotel room. To attract attention to the lion, the actor ordered 15 pounds of raw meat from room service. When hotel management discovered the lion, they called the police. That made the papers. (The man registered in the hotel as Thomas R. Zann and signed the register as T. R. Zann.)
Other tactics used by Reichenbach included fake kidnappings and once he generated the attention of the by press by getting Rudolph Valentino to grow a beard. The outrage of the fans was so great that Valentino “relented” and shaved off the hair. In 1915, to publicize the film Trilby – which included a nude scene and hypnotism – he escorted a young woman to the theater. As soon as the lights in the theater went out, the woman left the movie house and spent the next 50 minutes running around New York. She returned, sweaty and breathless – just before the lights came up. Then Reichenbach claimed that the movie had been so dramatic that it had caused sweating and shortness of breath.
Reichenbach was also responsible for getting Francis Xavier Bushman into film. This turned out to be fortuitous for Metro because Bushman was incredibly popular. Between 1911 and 1920, he appeared in more than 175 films, 17 of which were made in 1911 alone. Reichenbach had Bushman come to the Metro offices in New York for an interview to convince Metro to sign Bushman. Reichenbach met Bushman at Grand Central Station and escorted him to the offices of Metro.
On foot.
Reichenbach met Bushman at Grand Central Station with a bag of pennies. Reichenbach let the pennies stream out of a bank bag under his arm as they walked to the Metro office. Children scrambled to follow the trickle of pennies, and their parents followed. When Bushman got to Metro, a throng was following him. Metro was fooled by the ruse and signed Bushman for $1,000 a week.
Reichenbach did not confine his genius for publicity to film stars. An art dealer had far too many prints of a somewhat naked girl that he could not sell. Reichenbach had the art dealer place the print, “September Morn,” in the front window of the shop and hired a gaggle of
children to stand around and gawk at the print. Then he called Anthony Comstock, head of the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice. He claimed to be an ordinary citizen who was appalled that the print of a nude girl would be so brazenly displayed in public and where children could see the pornographic portrait. Comstock made so much fuss over the print that the art shop sold more than seven million copies.
