Exhibitors Herald World (Oct-Dec 1930)

December 20, 1930 EXHIBITORS HERALD-WORLD 33 of outstanding merit. One shows her forgetting her gruff exterior to open her hart to aid Sally, and the other is of her appeal to Collier to marry Sally. Lucien Littlefield, as the mail clerk and husband of Marie, gives an excellent interpretation of his part. The youngsters, Bakewell, Miss Eilers, Collier and Miss Page, follow through with good portrayals. The beauty parlor settings are lavish and are well photographed. Practically all of the sequences are interiors, and all are extremely faithful. Sound is smooth throughout, the microphones getting the best out of all voices. There are many clever lines and fresh gags, and while in some of the places there was little more than chuckles from the preview audience, the picture in general is very well received. Riesner has put two ordinary families onto the screen with the utmost faithfulness of portrayal. — Edward Churchill, Hollywood. THE TRUTH ABOUT YOUTH GOOD DRAMA! Produced and distributed by First National. Directed by William A. Seiter. From stage play "When We Were Twenty-one" by Henry Osmond. Adapted by W. Harrison Orkow. Dialog by W. Harrison Orkow. Editor, Frederick Y. Smith. Cameraman, Art Miller. With Loretta Young, David Manners, Conway Tearle, J. Farrell McDonald, Harry Stubbs, Myrtle Stedman, Myrna hoy. Release date, November 30. 1930. Footage, 6235. HERO OF THE WEEK B, ►ASED on the stage play, "When We Were Twenty-one," by Henry Osmond, this is good drama, which gives every evidence of competent direction, and an intelligent adaptation for the screen. The cast is excellent, particularly in the person of Conway Tearle as the guardian of the boy who loses his head. David Manners also gives an unusually fine performance as that boy. The story is probably a familiar one to many people, concerning the boy who has been under the care of three guardians, and is particularly close to one, Conway Tearle. He disappoints the girl he is supposed to marry and the others when he fails to appear for his birthday dinner. He has become involved with a dance hall girl who has designs on the money he has made her believe he possesses. On a sudden impulse, he marries the girl, and his guardian, unaware of the changed situation, and in order to save the boy, pays the dancer to appear in public as his fiancee. Loretta Young, who plays the fiancee of Manners, is really in love with Tearle. Her performance, particularly when she is a witness to the intimacy of the dancer and Tearle, is dramatically fine. Eventually, the boy's wife of a day discovers the truth concerning the state of his finances and ejects him. She eliminates herself as a factor in the situation when a former lover of her Continental days appears on the scene with a regained fortune. It is only through the effort on the part of Tearle to save the ward who is apparently very dear to him, that the guardian realizes that he is really deeply in love with the young girl whom he had long ago chosen as the prospective bride of the boy. Settings are confined almost exclusively to interiors, either in the cabaret in which the dancer appears, or at the home of Conway Tearle. Photography is good, though there is comparatively little call for exceptional scenes of any kind. Loretta Young is sweetly attractive, and J. Farrell MacDonald and Harry Stubbs as the others in the triple guardianship are fine. Myrna Loy's efforts to appear seductive as the dancer are not entirely convincing, nor is her singing voice all that might be desired. This is throughout an appealing film, possessing an excellent story with intelligence, which should have a very general appeal. Splendid performances in addition make this an entertaining dramatic film, with the action rather confined to the mental than the physical. — Charles S. Aaronson, New York City. J GEORGE BANCROFT gives a convincing portrayal as the managing editor in Paramount'* "Scandal Sheet." SCANDAL SHEET PRESS DRAMA! Produced and distributed by Paramount Publix. Directed by John Cromwell. Screen play by Vincent Lawrence and Max Marcin. Cast: George Bancroft, Kay Francis, Clive Brook, Regis Toomey, Gilbert Emery and Lucien Littlefield. UST as Paramount has done, in part, the life of Arnold Rothstein in "The Street of Chance" and again the life of William Fallon, the noted criminal lawyer, in "For the Defense," so has the organization used the life of Charles Chapin, the famous city editor of the New York World, who died in Sing Sing prison while serving a sentence for the murder of his wife, as a basis for "Scandal Sheet." Incidents have been lifted selectively from the career of Chapin, whose life was dedicated to the gathering of news. George Bancroft, usually the rough and tumble "he man," plays the lead and plays it convincingly. He has admirable support from Kay Francis, cast as his unfaithful wife, and Clive Brook, who is the other man. It is evident that those who played a part in the construction of the product either worked on newspapers or made a study of them, for the odor of printer's ink pervades it. Especially good work is apparent in the backgrounds, involving the interior of a newspaper office. Every detail is faithful, from editorial department to press room. As the incidents in the first part of the picture, having been taken from life, ring true, so toward the end of the picture, when Bancroft, forced by his own creed to print all the news, must carry the story of his wife's infidelity, it still rings true. Bancroft, in these sequences, undergoes a terrific mental struggle. He, through intelligent acting, brings the fullness of that struggle to his audience. There are touches in the picture which are outstanding in dramatic quality and which pack a terrific "kick" for the audience. One in particular takes place when Bancroft walks the full length of the editorial room to his own office. His staff, impelled by his trance-like attitude, follow him. He enters his office, calls his secretary, and dictates the story of his killing of Brook. He closes his story with "and then he gave himself up." He turns without a word and starts to leave the room. He pauses and orders: "Change 'gave himself up' to 'surrendered.' No use using three words when one will do." Regis Toomey, as the reporter, and Lucien Littlefield, the city editor (Bancroft is managing editor), present creditable performances. Lawrence and Marcin have given those of the cast tremendously powerful lines, and all read them well. Clive Brook has one scene with Miss Francis, involving his proposed departure from New York City because of his love for her, which is especially well done. Interior shots reveal in full the backgrounds which help so much to give the story verity. Sound is well-balanced, with no rough or weak spots. The settings — apartments of Bancroft and Flint — are exquisite. Much of the action, including the shooting of Brook, occurs "offstage" as in a "legit" play. Cromwell did an excellent job of bringing out Bancroft's love for his business of newsgathering and for his wife. — Edward Churchill. Hollywood. RANGO JUNGLE LIFE! Distributed by Paramount. Directed by Ernest B. Schoedsack. Photographed by Ernest B. Schoedsack. Cast: (Prologue) Claude King and Douglas Scott; (Story Proper) Ali, father; Bin, his son; Tua, the father ape; Rango. the baby ape. EARNEST B. SCHOEDSACK, who gave the world "Grass" and "Chang," came back from Sumatra in August with "Rango," a drama of the fight of natives and wild animals against the terror of the Sumatran jungles, the tiger. After the amazing picture was cut and assembled, a prolog was added — and in it lies an explanation of the product and the events in it, which adds greatly to an appreciation of what Schoedsack has done. The prolog deal? with a youngster who shoots at pasteboard tigers until his father comes into his room and, discovering what he is doing, tells him about tigers and the havoc they wreak in Sumatra, as well as in other jungle countries. From this point, the locale changes to the Sumatran jungles, and the story of the primitive struggle of a native and his son against the tigers is told graphically and perfectly. The native and his son are not actors, but Schoedsack has been able to overcome any camera shyness they might have and has told the story of their lives in the fastness of Sumatra. For that matter, Tua, the father orangutan, and his son, Rango, are not actors, either, but, when the picture is finished, you have had their lives, too. The picture is interspersed with closeups of many of the denizens of the jungle, and it appeared as if they had been directed to assume the expressions of fear, happiness, remorse and abject terror they portrayed. Schoedsack keeps his methods a secret. He has caught the jungle retiring for the night, asleep, and then waking. He not only shows the wild life, but he brings the vastness of the jungle, the beauty of Sumatran skies, and the glory of wild places to the screen. He has built himself, in addition to these things, an entertaining story. Ali, the hunter, with his primitive traps and his archaic weapons, hunts tigers. His son helps. One day, Tua and Rango loot his home. He and his son return, set a trap and catch Rango. Rango is domesticated. Ali goes away on a hunting trip. Tigers come. Tua frees Rango, and Rango is chased by a tiger and killed. A water buffalo, domesticated by Ali, kills the tiger after a terrific battle. The final shot is of Tua, broken-hearted, grieving in the top of a tree over the loss of his son. Sound is used plentifully. You hear the chatter of the monkeys, the snarl of the tigers, the baby noises of affection which Rango uses when he plays with his father. The sounds of the waking jungle add half again to the photography. Some of the shots of the jungles and the