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l66 CELLULOID
feet and ask us to believe they are twenty-five years older !
Surely this is the sort of make-believe they love in the theatre, this art of growing old by the ingenuity of the make-up man? It certainly has no connection with the cinema of to-day, and I am amazed that such a progressive firm as Radio Pictures should insult present-day audiences by offering a conjuror's trick of this nature. Not that the change in the physical appearance of the players is not well done. On the contrary, Richard Dix assumes a Methuselah-like expression with consummate skill, but it is of no avail, since I have admired him but five minutes before, leaping off a horse with youthful alacrity.
Apart from the time lapse of the characters, Osage grows from a moderate sized town with two-storeyed buildings into a teeming community of skyscrapers and extensive oilfields, and we are shown nothing of it. It were surely inconsistent to take the utmost trouble in staging the spectacular land rush for the opening of Cimarron, to make us acquainted with Osage in its first few years, and then to ignore completely its final and most vital phases of development. The continuity lapse between the last departure of Yancey after his fight for the Indian cause and the introduction of Sabra as the woman-editor ensconced in luxurious surroundings, might well have been bridged by showing the growth of Osage itself.
Why, for example, do we see nothing of the first railway to come to Osage? How were the great skyscrapers— which we perceive out of Mrs. Cravat's window — erected? What was the transition stage