Picture Play Magazine (Sep 1927 - Feb 1928)

Good Old Hokum! 21 And about that mortgage on the old homestead. In real life, mortgages are usually held by kind business men who never beat their wives, or kick their dogs, or leer at pretty girls. But not in the movies ! In films, the mortgage holder is either an old skinflint scheming a foreclosure because a little bird told him there was oil on the land, or a villain with designs on Liitle Bertha, the daughter of the mortgaged household. In real life, there are thousands of Berthas living in mortgaged homesteads, but most of them would be scorned by the family creditors. And apropos of the villain who wants to marry the heroine by fair means or foul — at the point of a gun, for example — few men in real life would want such reluctant brides. Besides, what's to keep the bride from running away promptly after the ceremony — such a marriage being illegal, of course ? Almost any Western picture could be called "The Hero Never Misses." Bill Hart, Tom Mix, Hoot Gibson, Ken Maynard — all our screen heroes have perfect aim, but the bad men have always neglected their target practice. Their shots are always just a waste of bullets, but the hero never fails to hit home. (He misses the villain-in-chief, however, until the last reel.) The hero is always one man against six or ten or twelve, miraculously dodging a shower of shots. Sometimes he runs out of ammunition and there is a handto-hand struggle. This presents a real problem to the audience — breathlessly, they wonder who is going to win! Almost every Western film is like this. Movie audiences expect it. Mother love is also an excellent theme on the screen. Every day is Mother's Day in the movies. Mary Carr, Belle Bennett, and Mary Alden don't get those fancy salaries without reason! "Over the Hill," "Stella Dallas," "Drusilla With a Million" have turned tears into dollars for their producers. Not that mothers are not loved in real life, too, but who of them has a chance to sacrifice herself to quite such an extent as in "Stella Dallas?" Screen mothers are always wingless angels ; real mothers, too, are often so — but they have been known to get cross when Johnny has tracked mud all over the living-room carpet, or when Ella hasn't swept under the beds when she cleaned. Or sometimes mother is just cross because And real mothers are only human, after all — they couldn't possibly be the saintly beings pictured on the screen that pain in her back is troubling her again, or because she didn't sleep well last night. With all due respect to mothers, they are at least human — but seldom are they human in the movies. Films are just full of noble sacrifices. If it isn't a mother's sacrifice, it may be a sister's, or a brother's. William has been both father and mother to his young brother Tom, who is rather a weakling. One day Tom shoots a man, and the officers of the law come to arrest him. "I did it," says William, stepping forward — never shall it be said that he didn't keep his promise to his parents to take care of Tommy. But Annie, William.'s sweetheart, is sure he didn't do it, despite his insistence that he is guilty. She suddenly turns detective, and finally, just as William is about to go to the chair, she rushes in with her evidence, and the noble hero is saved. Or perhaps it is Tommy who comes to the rescue, when his belated conscience makes him confess just in time. All this is according to formula in the movies— with many variations, of course. It ]S hokum nobility — -n o t real nobility. An innocent man suffering for another's crime — that is certainly flouting justice and the law, which are designed to protect society from weaklings like Tom. Part of the hokum in the situation just outlined is the last-minute reprieve. We see the condemned man, with his last moments upon him. The audience is taut with suspense. In alternate shots, we see his rescuer, with the pardon, speeding madly toward the scene in a high-powered car. Nearer, nearer — will he make it? Of course. Just in time. In real life, he might be too late — or a phone call from the governor's office could save him the ride. But there wouldn't be so much suspense in a phone call ! The "frame-up" is another favorite film device. Frequently the hero is sent to prison on evidence carefully arranged by some one for purposes of revenge. The simplest form of this is to slip the stolen pearls into the hero's pocket just as the search begins. The plot is usually more complicated than that, but that's the main idea and always gets across. Horrors! The hero has fallen jroni his horse! But this is a situation you're not likely to see in the movies — no, that would never do, says Old Man Hokum. The peculiar will is also an old favorite. Emma will inherit her uncle's fortune if she is married by her twenty-first birthday. Otherwise the money is to go to Cousin Will. Five minutes before the crucial birthday, Emma decides on the husband, but Cousin Will kidnaps her. And so on. Fortunately, in reality, eccentric uncles do not as a rule tie so many strings to their money. Then there is the ^irl pickpocket who belongs to a gang Continued on page 96