The Film Spectator (Mar-Dec 1928)

March 3, 1928 THE FILM SPECTATOR Page Seven see them on the screen. In the last Spectator I gave it as my opinion that Alan Hale should play comedy. I was not avifare at the time that he had such a role, but I am glad to point to it as proof of the soundness of my idea. He is a capital comedian. Bill Boyd never did as well in any other picture in which I have seen him. The continuous warfare between him and Hale will keep any audience in a constant roar of laughter. Thanks to the excellence of Higgin's direction we lose sight of the fact that there is no story. Every foot of the film entertains us, and that is all we ask of any picture. There is a slim romance between Boyd and that altogether delightful Sue Caroll. It is the kind of love story that we can be interested in only to the extent that we are interested in the parties to it. Higgin first builds up our interest in the characters as individuals, after which it doesn't matter much what they do; they are our friends and our interest extends to anything that they do. That is what interested me most about the picture. In the opening sequences no story is planted and nothing happens that later in the picture ties up with anything. Higgin merely plays around with his characters until we know them thoroughly, after which it is no trick to keep us interested in them. The characterizations so ably portrayed by Hale and Boyd are consistent to the end. There is not a single sentimental moment in their relations. They are at war constantly and no effort is made to present them as anything other than a pair of roughnecks. They are almost the whole picture, and they make of it a sparkling comedy quite good enough to appear in any house. This is the first sample of Higgin's work that I have seen. It is free from all the standard directorial weaknesses that I criticize so frequently. It betrays an understanding, sympathy and tenderness that should make Higgin in demand as a director, even if his delightful sense of humor were not enough to recommend him. Ralph Block supervised The Skyscraper. He hasn't been out at the De Mille studio very long, but he is beginning to put his impress on production. Tay Garnett wrote the screen story and no doubt is entitled to credit for a good share of the skilful character drawing. He also acts. He appears in a brief bit in which he is called on to make love to Sue Caroll. I hope Tay had the decency not to ask for pay for that day's work. * * * "Wings" a Truly Great Picture WINGS is a magnificent picture. Perhaps more than any other production that yet has been brought to the screen, it shows us what stupendous deeds the motion picture camera can perform. It is rich in entertainment value, but richer in what it promises in the way of future development. It is Paramount's most valuable contribution to screen art, and dignifies both its makers and the art. No picture ever made revealed an equal cleverness in blending miniature shots with lifesized ones. The nature of my calling demands that I view pictures critically, and as I view them I scribble notes which later become the basis of my comments. I made no notes on Wings. I sat back and enjoyed it, which, in as far as I personally am concerned, is my greatest tribute to its excellence. The thrills that came from the gigantic screen were all that mattered. The amazing photography is enough in itself to make the production notable. The theme and the comprehensive manner of its presentation dwarf everything else that composes the picture, and make its faults unimportant. But there is a lesson which the faults teach us. Some weeks ago I argued in The Spectator that love stories are not necessary to all pictures. Wings is a striking example of the kind of picture that is weakened by conventional treatment. It is so tremendous that the private affairs of the characters in it are trivial. That excellent little actress, Clara Bow, manages only to be a nuisance. There was no story reason for taking her to France. The fiutter of a skirt has no place among whirring propellers. The picture deals graphically and dramatically with the affairs of war, and the presence of a girl behind the line for no other reason than to conform to the movie convention that there must be a girl in a picture, detracts from its strength. Only the fact that Wings is powerful enough to carry the load kept it from being ruined by its story. I would have shown the girls only in the opening and closing sequences, and when the characters are in France I would have injected nothing to distract the audience's attention from the serious business of war and the part played in it by the men for whom interest had been developed. That Paramount did not know what to do with such story as it had is shown by the fact that it does nothing to clear the reputation of Clara Bow who was sent home from France in disgrace. The audience knows that she is innocent, but the picture ignores the fact that there is a blot on her record. The whole drunk sequence never should have been shot. I know that our fine boys who went to France did such things, for I saw much of it over there myself, but it should not have been dragged into a picture to which it contributes nothing whatever. There is nothing half-way about a motion picture; what does not strengthen it harms it. The Saturday Evening Post may be taken as a gauge of the public's taste in fiction, a taste identical with that to which pictures cater. That publication, which is amazingly prosperous because it contains stories the public likes, realizes that a love story is not essential. I have not kept tab, but I feel that I am safe in saying that not half its stories endeavor to focus our interest in girls. If the screen were right in its conviction that every picture must have a love interest, the Post would not be the success it is. During the past ten years the Post has contained scores of war stories in which no girls figured. Wings would have been a much better picture if it had reduced the girl interest to a minimum. But, even so, it is a great picture. It is one you must see, and one that every exhibitor should book. It is a distinct triumph for William Wellman, its director. * * * Something About Young Directors TOM Meighan is fortunate in having Lewis Milestone to direct his first picture for Caddo Productions. In both Two Arabian Knights and The Garden of Eden Milestone demonstrated that he is one of the coming directors. He is the foi-tunate possessor of a rare sense of humor in addition to a fine appreciation of dramatic values. If I were asked to make a list of the young men who give promise of having a brilliant screen career, one of the first names I would set down would be that of Lewis Milestone. Tom Meighan still possesses the screen