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51
A glance at his sets
of Fate
and breaks the skeins of sevin "The Bridge of San Luis will soon be seen on the screen.
Gebkart
that old rascal, Uncle Pio, for the bad Camila.
Thornton Wilder's book, "The Bridge of San Luis Rey," now being filmed by Metro-Goldwyn, is very unusual. It is flavored with irony and peopled with characters who, though individualistic, seem curiously unreal and impersonal.
Will Charles Brabin, the scholar, whose work is principally the studious definition of substantial, earthy characterizations, endow them with those human, opalescent qualities we expect on our screen?
indicates that he is striving for impressionistic effects, and one infers that, aside from the picturesque locale never before filmed, the merit of the production will lie in its novelty. On second thought, perhaps no other could so well inject the heartbeats. He must make paintings from etchings and expand silhouettes. If the film does present to us people who get under our skins —as did those in "Stella Maris," "Driven," and "So Big," under his direction— it will testify again to his cleverness.
That quality he certainly displays in his manner of obtaining effects. During the filming of the convent scenes, I noticed the Abbess and Pep it a — E u ge n i e Besserer and Raquel Torres — deep in converse, while Brabin sat idly by. He explained that Raquel is delicately sensitive and admitted, frankly, that he did not know how to evoke the emotions he desired. So, wisely, and with a humility rare in directors, he turned her over to Miss Besserer, believing that in some circumstances a woman's sympathetic understanding is more influ
Manuel sacrifices his love for Camila to that of his brother, which pleases the doting patron of the actress, Ernest Torrence.
ential than a man's directorial experience in educing exact gradations of joy or sorrow.
While remaining in character for atmosphere, Miss Besserer stroked Raquel's hand, spoke to her softly, waited silently. No sound broke the quiet of the convent set, with its stone walls and shadows. None of us could have said at what moment Pc pita's tears began to fall, slowly, one by one. A glance from Miss Besserer told Brabin that they were ready. Leaving the scene in her
hands, he gave orders only ■to the electricians and camera men. Almost the entire direction of Raquel is Miss Besserer's. Almost any other director would rage at his own inadequacy.
The eccentric and suspicious Marquesa, Emily Fitzroy, softens under the companionship of Raquel Torres, as Pepita.
These strange folk of Wilder's novel, at times bordering on the grotesque, appear as silhouettes. As such — ignorant of what magic Brabin will employ to infuse into them more human qualities — let us assemble them.
Those whom the bridge takes with it are Dona Maria, Marquesa de Montmayor, Pepita, the novice, strange Esteban who never knows of Pe pita's love, himself given over to love of his brother, Uncle Pio and Jaime, the actress' child. Those who remain are Camila, la Pcrichole, brilliant figure of the Peruvian stage, Condesa Clara, daughter of the Marquesa, and Abbess Madre Maria del Pilar.
In her baroque palace we