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In the one movie she made in Chicago, the openly bisexual author-actress "bares her very soul." In February 1918, openly bisexual author Mary MacLane starred in the silent movie Men Who Have Made Love to Me , released by Chicago’s Essanay Studios.⁣ ⁣ Mary MacLane wrote her first book, The Story of Mary MacLane , at age 19. Shocking, confessional, and banned in some cities, her diary-like book sold extremely well, over 100,000 copies in the first month alone.⁣ ⁣ MacLane’s third novel caught the attention of George Spoor, who ran Essanay Studios in Chicago. The two made one movie together, Men Who Have Made Love to Me (1918), adapted for the screen by MacLane from her own short story. Like about 75% of silent films, MacLane’s 90-minute movie is now thought to be lost.⁣ In the 1920s, Mary MacLane moved to a predominately black neighborhood on the South Side of Chicago, where her companion, a black artist named Harriet Williams, cared for her until her death at age 48. ⁣ ⁣⁣ Read more about Mary MacLane’s fascinating life and short-lived film career at Columbia University’s Women Film Pioneers Project . Images: Wikimedia Commons; Central Jersey Home News (24 Feb 1918).⁣

Long before Hollywood dominated the industry, early filmmaking in Chicago was taking shape in surprising ways. Discover how The Tramp and the Dog (1896) reveals the city’s first steps into this new medium. Shhh, the pie is cooling. Screenshot from The Tramp and the Dog (1896). Before Hollywood dominated American cinema, Chicago was one of the earliest centers of film production. For National Silent Movie Day (September 29), we revisit The Tramp and the Dog (1896), a silent short linked to Chicago’s Rogers Park neighborhood and the early filmmaking experiments of William Selig . Guard Dogs and Warm Pies: The Tramp and the Dog Explained The Tramp and the Dog  (1896) is an 80-second movie directed by William Selig and set in Chicago's Rogers Park neighborhood . It features three characters:   Baker Thief (or Tramp) Dog   There is also a man behind the fence (at far R) who's either enjoying or perhaps co-directing the scenario.   The gist of the short film, which you can watch above, is this:   A woman sets down a pie on a chair to cool it. When she leaves, a man tries to steal the pie. In the process, a white dog latches onto the man's backside. As the dog and tramp tussle, the baker returns, chasing away the latter with her broom.   The Tramp and the Dog , screenshot. A Closer Look: What The Tramp and the Dog Reveals About Early Filmmaking in Chicago After multiple viewings, here are three things I noticed in The Tramp and the Dog : Tramp pretends to eat the pie before taking it Baker looks at the camera The dog-Tramp fight moves out of frame The Baker, breaking the fourth wall, looks back at the camera. Where'd they go? The action (inadvertently) moves offscreen. What seems obvious now—that a character needn’t mime eating, look back for direction, or shift the primary action outside the frame (even if said action was unplanned)—was not yet standard practice in 1896 [1]. At the time, filmmakers and performers were still negotiating the basic grammar of cinema.   Such "mistakes" are endearing (and fun to seek out)—because they capture people, in this case Chicagoans, in real time, learning how to create silent moving pictures. If you're interested in exploring these kinds of stories, check out my public talks on Chicago film history , where we look at how early onscreen experiments continue to shape the way we understand movies today. UPDATE (Jan. 29, 2026): The Tramp and the Dog  is now part of  the National Film Registry, underscoring its importance in early American cinema. Want to walk through Chicago’s cinematic past? Beyond the screen, Chicago’s streets are filled with hidden movie history. From the sites of early silent studios to modern filming locations, join us for a Chicago walking tour  or book a movie talk  for your group today—including this one on Rogers Park movie theaters . Notes: [1] William Selig , who directed The Tramp and the Dog , was interviewed in the February 1920 edition of Photoplay . In the interview, Selig says the last beat of the movie—"the fence [breaking] under the weight of the tramp"—was not part of the scripted scenario but the action "gave [the film] a concluding punch." Whether planned or not, Selig did not shift the camera to follow the action, as a filmmaker would do in a few years' time. Indeed, he and the actors were still learning the basics of cinematic storytelling. Sources Photoplay . Photoplay Magazine Publishing Company, Chicago, Feb. 1920. “ Selig Polyscope’s The Tramp and the Dog  (1896) Joins the 2025 National Film Registry .” Selig Film News, 29 Jan. 2026. Selzer, Adam, and Michael Glover Smith. Flickering Empire: How Chicago Invented the U.S. Film Industry . Columbia University Press, 2018. Dig Deeper into Silent Movies From loudspeakers outside theaters to live music accompaniments inside, along with audience participation and occasional dialogue, the silent film era was anything but quiet. Learn more in the video below, " Were Silent Movies Truly Silent ."

One of Chicago’s newest museums encourages you to explore public housing history in the U.S. and an exhibit devoted to the TV series Good Times . Small exhibit in the National Public Housing Museum devoted to Good Times . (Photo: Chicago Movie Tours) I recently visited the National Public Housing Museum  located in Chicago's Near West Side . The museum opened in April 2025, and admission is free.   Inside, you learn about the histories of public housing in Chicago and nationwide—including discriminatory policies and practices like redlining  that help shape said housing developments and the families living within them. On view, you'll find everyday objects from public housing : a Pyrex dish, dog collar, wedding dress, and yellow rotary phone. Optionally, a Historic Apartments tour  allows you to visit recreated apartments that reflect different families’ experiences in public housing history between the 1930s and 1970s. That tour, which I enjoyed, is $25/person. Finally, if you're Gen X —or perhaps the owner of a tour and public talks company that researches Chicago-based movies and TV—then one exhibition inside the museum will likely catch your eye. Exterior, National Public Housing Museum. (Photo: Chicago Movie Tours) Seeing Yourself on TV: The Good Times Exhibit at the National Public Housing Museum Tucked away in the museum's lower level is a space devoted to Good Times , the 1970s sitcom about a Black family living in Chicago public housing. Good Times , which ran on CBS for five years (1974-79), centers on Florida and James Evans and their three children, James Jr. (J.J.), Thelma, and Michael. Throughout the series, the family attempts to overcome poverty in inner-city Chicago, always doing so with a sense of humor and impeccable comedic timing. That's not to say Good Times shies away from difficult topics. Racism, gang wars, unemployment, and evictions factor into storylines. And we should recall that real-life conflicts between producers and actors occurred as well, causing involuntary cast dismissals and voluntary resignations. Still, according to the National Public Housing Museum, "the first time public housing residents saw themselves on mainstream television" was on Good Times . The Evans family, from left: Ralph Carter (Michael), BernNadette Stanis (Thelma), Jimmie Walker (J.J.), Esther Rolle (Florida), and John Amos (James). (Photo: Wikimedia Commons) Good Times Filming Locations: Cabrini-Green and Chicago History Good Times never mentions the family's Chicago housing project by name. We are only given the address: 963 North Gilbert Avenue, Apt. 17C. (For the curious, here's the Evans' apartment floor plan .) But based on the following, we can deduce the fictional Evans family likely lived in Chicago's real Cabrini-Green public housing development . For example, Good Times ' opening credits reveal actual location shots of Cabrini-Green. The show's co-creator Eric Monte grew up in Cabrini-Green . Notably, Monte also wrote Cooley High  (1975), a film set and shot on location in Cabrini-Green. Adding to this, in the museum's small installation, you can watch clips from the series—all selected by  current Cabrini-Green residents . The National Public Housing Museum offers a thoughtful look at the lived experiences, systemic challenges, and cultural legacy of public housing in America. From personal artifacts and immersive apartment recreations to a nostalgic yet critical nod to Good Times , the museum invites you to reflect on the past while considering the future of housing and community. Explore More Chicago TV History If you enjoyed learning about the real-life inspiration behind the Evans family home and Good Times filming locations in Chicago, let’s keep the cameras rolling. Request a talk or book a tour today to see Chicago through the lens of your favorite classic shows and movies!

Hang out with us! A podcaster, a blogger, and a tour guide discuss how they record Chicago's past and present film history Join us below for an exclusive livestreamed conversation on Chicago and movies! You'll meet our three guests—a seasoned podcaster, a location blogger, and a Chicago tour guide—and learn how they began their respective projects, currently decide on content, work with their chosen media, and more! This roundtable discussion (55 min.) was streamed live simultaneously on Facebook and YouTube. 👋 Say hello to our guests Tommy Henry, Chicago History Podcast Chas Demster, It's Filmed There, Filming Locations of Chicago and Los Angeles Kelli Marshall, Chicago Movie Tours

Walk virtually around the birthplace of Delta Airlines, and learn about the company's links to Chicago and in-flight entertainment. Below, I take you to Monroe, Louisiana—the surprising birthplace of Delta Air Lines, which began in 1925 as a crop-dusting company before evolving into Delta Air Service and launching passenger flights in 1929. Along the way, I explore the origins of Delta’s iconic logo, its expansion through a 1953 merger with Chicago and Southern Airlines, and even share a personal family connection to the airline. The virtual tour also highlights a fascinating Chicago tie-in: a 1921 aviation event often credited with the first in-flight movie screening. Blending aviation history, film history, and regional storytelling, this preview offers a glimpse into an upcoming virtual tour connecting Delta, Chicago, and the evolution of in-flight entertainment. This virtual mini tour (approx. 12 min.) was filmed live on Facebook in Monroe, Louisiana, on Thanksgiving morning 2023.

Celebrate Oscar winners from Chicago and other areas of Illinois In this excerpt from Oscar Winners in Chicago (25 min.)—our fourth program counting down to the 2024 Academy Awards—learn about a game-changing figure in Hollywood for practical and special effects. His innovation in creating environmentally friendly, biodegradable fake snow led to an Academy Award for Scientific and Technical Advancement. 👇 Check out all the 2024 Oscar-related programs before you scroll down to watch the excerpt. Countdown to the Oscars 2024 How a Beach House Built the Oscars : Unravel the Oscars' origins through tales of unions and a movie mogul's beach house The Oscar Statuette and Chicago : Hear about Chicago's connection to the world's most recognized trophy! Scandal and Controversy in Oscar History : Rehash some of the Oscars' most controversial and scandalous moments! Oscar Winners from Chicago : Celebrate Oscar winners from Chicago and other areas of Illinois What Is Oscar Bait? (And Why Is It Maestro?) : As we countdown to the Oscars, let's answer the question "what is Oscar bait?" Watch Excerpt: Oscar Winners from Chicago Join our movie club to watch the full virtual event, or browse upcoming virtual events .

In an interview with Donte Diesel Williams, I explore why Chicago shines in romantic comedies, how the city shapes cinematic storytelling, and my own journey from film professor to Chicago Movie Tours founder. Donte and I chat in La Grange, IL, about romantic comedies filmed in Chicago. I had the pleasure of sitting down with Donte Diesel Williams —TV news photojournalist, filmmaker, and Chicago film historian—for his YouTube series The Chicago Film Experience .   In our 23-minute conversation, Donte asked some great questions: What attracted you to the film landscape of Chicago? Why do so many romantic comedies choose this city? Before you moved here, were you into Chicago films?   We explore all of this and more, diving into romantic comedies filmed in Chicago—from While You Were Sleeping  and My Best Friend’s Wedding  to Groundhog Day  and Love Jones —while also unpacking the blurry line between rom-com and screwball comedy. We talk about why Chicago works as a backdrop for love stories, how the city shapes character and narrative, and what makes certain films—like The Blues Brothers  and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off —feel like true cinematic love letters to the city.   Along the way, I share my own path from teaching Shakespeare and Gene Kelly in the university classroom to running Chicago Movie Tours .   If you enjoy thinking about genre, film history, and Chicago onscreen, I believe you’ll enjoy our full conversation —which you can watch below.

Six years ago today, I launched Chicago Movie Tours.   I’m marking the anniversary of my business by going back to where it all started: a porch, a camera, and a last-minute pivot to virtual programming in the early days of the pandemic.   The short video  below revisits that moment and fast-forwards to everything that’s followed:   walking tours  across Chicago talks  for libraries and other communities virtual programs , and even a few appearances  on local news along the way.   Thanks for following along and helping make it all possible! Kelli

In educating 1930s Chicagoans about the dangers of syphilis, movies played a couple of roles In the mid-1930s, syphilis was widespread in the United States: Roughly 1/10 Americans suffered from the venereal disease 18% of deaths from heart disease were attributed to syphilis 60,000 children were born each year with congenital syphilis (Brandt 129-30). With penicillin 10 years away, doctors treated syphilis with arsenic, bismuth, and mercury. Treatment was not cheap, costing some patients $300-$1,000! To curb this spreading disease, the New York State health commissioner proposed several plans to enact nationally. Among his suggestions: Offer free testing centers Make blood testing mandatory before marriage and early in pregnancy Educate the public concerning syphilis In educating the public about the dangers of syphilis, movies would play a couple of roles. Syphilis Movies for Doctors In the 1930s, syphilis movies were aimed at doctors . The American Medical Association and U.S. Public Health Service created training films like Syphilis: A Motion Picture Clinic to show doctors, step by step, how to examine patients and test for the disease. These movies offered physicians the latest information about causes, effects, and treatment of syphilis. They also included "explicit images of affected genitalia" and, thus, were not deemed suitable for the general public of the 1930s. (Little did the films' creators know at the time that their work would eventually circulate on something called YouTube!) Syphilis Movies for the Public In the 1930s, syphilis movies—and movie-like propaganda—also targeted the general public , Chicagoans included. As these clippings from the Chicago Tribune and surrounding Chicago newspapers point out, in the late 1930s, Chicagoans could attend free movies and talking-slide films about syphilis. High schools, women's and men's clubs, and parent-teacher associations were invited to view these "clean, educational picture[s]" and slides designed to help eradicate "the menace of syphilis." One talking-slide movie called For All Our Sakes (1936) was reportedly produced in Chicago at Burton Holmes Studios, 459 E. Ontario St. Its first screening took place off Lake Shore Dr. and Superior St. For All Our Sakes featured 100+ projected slides operated in connection with a phonograph disc recording. From 1937-38, it was shown in several states in addition to Illinois. Based on the letter from the American Social Hygiene Association that accompanied For All Our Sakes , Chicagoans were assured they were not watching "a Chamber of Horrors picture ." Rather, the approach to the spreading problem was "sane and enlightening" and designed for mixed audiences. In short, no one would be embarrassed, not even the "most sensitive individual." While we no longer have visual evidence, For All Our Sakes was evidently "attractively photographed" and "accompanied by a voice of unusual variety and vividness" (Pinney 167). In 1936, Dr. Jean B. Pinney writes that social hygiene "naturally lends itself to interpretation through the motion picture." She cites Damaged Goods (1915) as "the first social-hygiene drama film" and similar films that were created during WWI, the latter of which may have kept a low rate of syphilis among U.S. soldiers. We've known from their inception that moving images are powerful and can be used in various ways: to narrate, entertain, promote, scare, express, and persuade. We can add to the list: to educate Chicagoans on the potential dangers of widespread diseases. Sources Brandt, Allen M. No Magic Bullet: A Social History of Venereal Disease in the United States Since 1880 . Oxford UP, 1987. Englund, Kristin MD. " Syphilis 100 Years Later: Another lost opportunity? " Cleveland Clinic Journal of Medicine , 2017. Pinney, Jean B. " The Motion Picture and Social-Hygiene Education ." The Journal of Educational Sociology. Vol. 10, No. 3, The Motion Picture in its Educational and Social Aspects (Nov., 1936). 158-67.

Explore how movies like The Breakfast Club and Singin’ in the Rain use March 24 to master cinematic time—and watch a montage of March 24 cameos. Filmmakers can manipulate time  using several techniques:    Montages  condense Rocky’s training  to a few minutes  Slow motion  stretches time in The Untouchables  shootout  Flashbacks  interrupt Casablanca  to show earlier events Dissolves  indicate passing years between WWII and 1993   Time can also be relayed through dialogue .   A character may tell us what day it is—and experience that day over and over—as Bill Murray's does in Groundhog Day  (1993). A character may also give us a "red letter date" to change the course of the narrative, as Doc Brown (Christopher Lloyd) does in Back to the Future .   Then, in the very next shot, the camera may reiterate that timeframe. Finally, in movies (and on television), time can be communicated through onscreen text .   In this screenshot from Netflix’s The Night Agent , we see how much time has passed since the previous episode. A time and date that likely stick out to Chicago movie fans is 7:00 AM on Saturday, March 24, 1984 . On this day, over the course of 9 hours, five teenagers from different social cliques are forced to spend detention together in The Breakfast Club . In a voiceover , one character sets the time and place:   Saturday, March 24, 1984 Shermer High School Shermer, Illinois, 60062   Another film that (at least briefly) lands on March 24 is Singin’ in the Rain . Just before the musical number “Good Morning,” a character flips a calendar and realizes it’s now 1:30 AM on March 24—a new day that brings a new outlook. I was curious how many other major movies and television shows spotlight March 24, so I went digging. Below is a short video compilation of some of my findings. See how many you can identify before checking the answers in the video description .

Discover why, in cinema's early days, Max Factor’s panchromatic movie make-up was considered "horrifying." ​ Early movies used two types of film: orthochromatic and panchromatic . Orthochromatic film sees limited colors; it is blue- (or green-) sensitive and is unable to capture reds. For example, on the screen, blue skies look white, blonde hair appears washed-out, and red lips look black. To combat these issues, industry pioneers used lens filters, location choices, lighting—and makeup. Panchromatic film sees all colors and reproduces them closer to what we experience daily, albeit in shades of black, white, and gray. For differences between the two film types, look at Kodak's advertisements above ( Movie Makers , 1930). When panchromatic film became trendy in the late 1920s, makeup artist Max Factor —whose Chicago office sat at 444 W. Grand Avenue—was there to assist with the transition. ​According to Max Factor: The Man Who Changed the Faces of the World , Factor toiled for months to create a new type of makeup "that reflected the correct degree of light required by [panchromatic] film." Factor succeeded and was even awarded a certificate by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences to recognize his contribution to “Incandescent Illumination Research.” You can see in the 1929-1930 ads below from International Photographer that Max Factor's movie makeup is front and center. In some instances, his name and the words panchromatic make-up are as about as large as—or larger than!—the titles of the films being advertised. Also, International Photographer informs its readers, presumably cinematographers, that these films use Max Factor’s makeup exclusively. Thus, for these professionals to work on a film NOT using this makeup would arguably be a step down in status. By the 1930s, Max Factor’s panchromatic make-up—although reportedly " horrifying to look at " in daylight since it was designed for black-and-white movies and not everyday wear—became an industry standard.

Decades before Hollywood’s The Wizard of Oz , Chicago’s Grand Opera House staged its own hit version—funded, in part, by a patent medicine called Wizard Oil. Promotional still for The Wizard of Oz (1939), IMDb. It's January 1872, barely 3 months after the Great Chicago Fire . Despite the frigid weather, rebuilding is in full force . Hotels, churches, offices, banks, museums, and theatres begin to rise skyward.   Over at 546 N. Clark St. (now site of the Daley Center ), brothers John  and Lysander Hamlin are doing their part to facilitate the city's rebuilding process. Using family wealth, the Hamlin brothers, ages 65 and 63, have just forked over $130,750  (about $3.4 million today) to purchase property on which they would build Chicago's  Grand Opera House —a theatre that would soon become a cultural landmark. The following story of Chicago’s Grand Opera House reveals how the city’s resilience after the Great Fire and the Hamlin family's entrepreneurial vision shaped a stage history that would give the world its first musical version of The Wizard of Oz —decades before Hollywood and MGM made it famous. The family name, Hamlin, is centered near the roofline of the Grand Opera House, Chicago, IL. c. 1880 . Nine Lives of Chicago's Grand Opera House The Grand Opera House, which sat about 1,500 patrons , boasts a colorful history. The building served  as a billiard hall, beer garden, and vaudeville house before settling into its status as a theatre in 1880. The transformation from billiard hall to beer garden must have been fascinating for regular patrons. They would've watched workers replace the 30+ billiards tables with an elegantly carpeted ladies' gallery and an additional room that mimicked "scenery of mountain and field, rivulets, bridges, cascades, an old mill or two, a 24-foot waterfall, miniature lake, and other rural work on an expensive scale" ( Chicago Tribune , July 18, 1875). A 24-foot waterfall and a miniature lake—indoors! Women enjoying drinks in an indoor beer garden, Wikimedia Commons . George M Cohan's Grand Opera House, Ovrtur . Equally interesting, in 1912, composer-playwright George M. Cohan —he of " Yankee Doodle Dandy " fame—would co-lease the theatre from the Hamlin brothers and rename it after himself. In this photo, it's appropriate, I suppose, that a " grand ol' flag " would hang beneath the theatre's new name: George M. Cohan’s Grand Opera House. Perhaps more confusing, later, the same building was known briefly as the Four Cohans, which you can see via the marquee in this photo . Here's a final piece of Chicago's Grand Opera House history: On June 16, 1902, a stage musical based on a brand new and very popular children's book premiered there. We're Off to See the Wizard (Oil)   In 1902, while John Hamlin's sons Harry and Fred were managing the Grand Opera House, they were presented with a musical comedy for the stage. The production was based on L. Frank Baum 's book The Wonderful Wizard of Oz , published in Chicago only two years prior. According to an unnamed contemporary, the Hamlin family “knew little about musical comedy, but they thought anything with the name ‘Wizard’ in it should do well” ( Chicago Tribune , Apr 1, 1958). And they thought this for good reason. Poster advertising Hamlin's Wizard Oil. The Hamlins, we learned above, used their family wealth to purchase the Grand Opera House. All that money, if you can believe it, came from a patent medicine cure-all called Hamlin's Wizard Oil . Made of 50–70% alcohol and advertised heavily across the Midwest, Hamlin's Wizard Oil claimed to cure a variety of common ailments, including: rheumatism neuralgia headache toothache diphtheria sore throat sprains bruises menstrual cramps diarrhea Fun fact : you can still find Hamlin's Wizard Oil bottles, song books, advertising posters, and trading cards for sale on eBay . It’s no wonder the Hamlins believed a musical with “Wizard” in the title would be a hit—the name had already made them wealthy. The family's instincts were right: the play was a success. A Musical Oz in Chicago: Sufficiently Spicy The Wizard of Oz  musical extravaganza  was scheduled to open at Chicago's Grand Opera House on June 12, 1902. But the show was not ready. It was postponed two days. Then, it was postponed another two days. Surprisingly, rather than deterring audiences, the back-to-back delays stirred interest. When The Wizard of Oz  musical finally opened on June 16, 1902, the house was packed. Reports describe a "huge well-dressed crowd" with people "standing in the aisle at rear and behind the last row of seats." Interior, Grand Opera House, " The Complete Architecture of Adler & Sullivan ." Even L. Frank Baum attended the show and, afterward, addressed the audience : "Kind friends, thank you for your enthusiasm. It is heart-warming. You have been generous enough to call for the author, but I do not need to remind you that he is only one of many whose efforts you are enjoying tonight. [...] All of us are happy you have enjoyed the show, and we hope you and your friends will be back for a second helping ." Indeed, people did return for "a second helping," as Baum put it. The show consistently sold out and even broke attendance records for the Hamlin-run theatre. By the time production closed in Chicago on September 20, 1902, 185,000 people had seen the show. Its box office receipts totaled $160,000 (about $5 million today). Helping matters, I imagine, ticket prices were affordable: they ranged from $0.25 to $1.50, or only $8 to $50 today. In addition to the sold-out Chicago crowds and impressive box office returns, the production's stage effects, set design, costumes, and marketing were touted in reviews and in conversation around the city. First, based on contemporary descriptions, the musical's Poppy scene must've been dazzling. A large gauze curtain, well-positioned lights, and magic lantern slides  produced the illusion of rain, snow, and sunbeams as the main characters "fell asleep" onstage. A similar effect was used for the cyclone at the start of Act 1. Second, audiences and critics consistently applauded the performances and costumes of Fred Stone and David Montgomery , who played Scarecrow and Tin Woodman respectively. Scarecrow wore a blue shirt and blue pants, both stuffed with real straw. Each night, his face was painted with pink and black greasepaint to remove Stone's actual eyebrows and create Scarecrow's face stitches. David Montgomery as the Tin Man. Poster for Fred R. Hamlin's musical extravaganza, The Wizard of Oz . Wikimedia Commons. Montgomery's Tin Woodman wore an actual tin hat and a "biblike collar" around his head. Every night, his face was painted with white greasepaint, with streaks of black around his eyes, nose, and mouth, and a tinge of red across his lips. Onstage, Stone's "fluid movements and rubbery legs" delighted audiences while Montgomery's "broad grin and creaky movements" rendered his character "funny and endearing." Part of their appeal no doubt, Stone and Montgomery had significant onstage chemistry: they had worked together as a vaudeville team before co-starring in Chicago's The Wizard of Oz  musical. Finally, in addition to the production's stage effects, set design, and costumes, the play's accompanying literature and vibrant posters clearly enticed Chicago theatre audiences and critics. Newspapers published teasers and short articles about the show. An 8-page promotional booklet including cast member photos and bios was also available. Moreover, this musical version of The Wizard of Oz was advertised as appealing to both children and parents—"sufficiently spicy and alluring to engross a sophisticated Chicago audience." Oz after Chicago... After its stint in Chicago, The Wizard of Oz  musical extravaganza toured through the upper Midwest. Eventually, it moved to Broadway , where it ran for 300 performances at the Majestic Theatre . A touring company would soon follow. In the transition from Chicago to New York, most of the original cast remained, including David Montgomery and Fred Stone, who had, of course, been key to the show's success as the Tin Woodman and Scarecrow. To be fair, I've only skimmed the surface of this Chicago production of The Wizard of Oz . For those seeking more information about the musical production, you might read Part 1 of Mark Evan Swartz's book Oz before the Rainbow: L. Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz on Stage and Screen to 1939 . Fortunately, a great deal of primary and secondary sources about the play are available, many of which are referenced within.