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l62 CELLULOID
make a tour of inspection around the oilfields. A man has been hurt in a sudden burst of oil. He threw himself in the way of an unexploded nitrotorpedo to save hundreds of lives. As it would be simple to imagine, it is Yancey — in time to die in the arms of his wife.
From this brief outline of the action, it will be seen that the principal fault of Cimarron is its unwieldy length and its badly filled lapses of continuity. The film begins on a high note, on a scene of amazing spectacular value which has seldom been equalled on the screen. Both aurally and visually, the handling of the rush for the new lands is well done, with a force that carries the audience straight into the momentum of the film. But as is practically unavoidable in such cases, the action flags when Yancey returns home, and does not recapture its pace until the night arrival in Osage. Here, we are plunged again right into the intrinsic spirit of the rough, elemental quality of the theme. As Yancey's wagon picks its way through the crowded street, stopping here and there to push aside the swirling mob, we are transported for a fleeting moment into the atmosphere which must have been present at the original Osage in 1889. There is a wonderful conviction about this sequence that is hard to analyse and which speaks well for the direction of Wesley Ruggles. It is possible that the reality of the environment is very largely achieved by the clever use of natural sound and the intelligent treatment of the boisterous crowd.