Now I tend to side with Herod and Rameses when it comes to children, though perhaps not quite as brutally, so I was fully prepared to hate this. Though it does contain more than it’s fair share of cheese, it’s not that sentimental and for my first encounter with Bobby Breen, it went fine. “Tommy” lives with his mother “Martha” (Dolores Costello). Neither they nor anyone else in their Mennonite community have much cash, so his dream of a career singing isn’t likely to come to fruition nor is them finding the $92 train fare they need to raise to join their family farming in faraway Kansas. Determined to help, and under the tutelage of the not entirely trustworthy “Terwilliger” (Charles Ruggles) he runs away to Philadelphia where he manages to find some work at an ice rink and then after he is overheard, he gets to sing too - for the enormous sum of $5 per week! Thing is, we know he is being fleeced by his friend and so when it emerges that “Terwilliger” has a secret stash, “Tommy” uses it to return to his home with enough cash for their onward journey. In his absence, though, he has been wrongfully accused of pinching a twenty dollar bill that had inadvertently found itself being used as stuffing for a chair. Now returning and facing the wrath of “William” (Robert Barrat) he and his now slightly repentant friend have to race around trying to find what happened to the chair. Some of the photography and visual effects do present Breen as altogether too angelic at times, and there is an ensemble scene on the ice where a young girl does her best Shirley Temple on skates that did make me cringe a little. Otherwise, though, there is no getting away from the fact that Breen is an engaging lad who can effortlessly hold a tune - albeit a rather highly pitched one. There are a few enjoyable escapades, especially towards the end, that allow Ruggles to keep his tongue in his cheek and it’s jovially scored throughout. It’s not great, no, but it’s not terrible either and there’s even a spot for the dreaded “Miss Gulch” herself (Margaret Hamilton) for the eagle eyed.
