Film Fun (Jan - Dec 1917)

Comments of a Free Lance By LINDA A. GRIFFITH ■ii niiiiiiiiiiiim iiiiiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiMilliilllllllllll The writer is well known in the moving picture world. She began her career as a mov1 ing picture actress with the Biograph Company when it was the pioneer in this field of 1 operation. She has since been prominently connected with the Kinemacolor and other 1 companies and more recently was the star in her striking sociological play "Charity." CAMPBELL STUDIOS LINDA A. BATTLE FRONT FILMS THRILL CROWDED HOUSES /"\NE OF the most interesting mo^^ tion picture openings I ever attended took place at the Fortyfourth Street Theater, New York City, on August 8th, when the first and only official Italian war films to reach America were shown there. Had the pictures been dull and stupid, the unique crowd of first nighters that filled the theater would have been well worth the price of admission to see. It was something new in the way of a first night. There were no dress suits noticeable, a few Palm Beach ones; but every true Italian there — and there were many — had his coat off, revealing a bright pink or blue shirt, with a few striped ones interspersed. Whether suspenders or belts were a necessary part of the costume mattered little. Even the musicians in their Palm Beach suits left off their coats, and the occupants of the boxes were also in their shirt sleeves. Our men, suffering in their dark woolen suits, might well envy the simplicity and naturalness of this one of our Allies, which has not too much false pride to be comfortable. Even if the night be hot and humid, and a close theater be not the happiest choice of a place to spend an August evening, a visit to this theater to see these Italian war films is well worth the effort. The views which make up this film, called "The Italian Battlefront, " and which were photographed by the cinemographic division of the Italian army, under the direction of the Italian General Staff, are in three parts: 1st, Italy's warfare in the Adamello, at the top of the snow-clad Alps. 2d, The battle of Gorizia, showing the capture of the supposedly impregnable Austrian fortress. 3d, Italy's warfare in the sky and on the sea. These films make us realize the tremendous part Italy is playing in this World War. No one could help but be thrilled by the wonderful scene showing the courage, strength and endurance of Italy's brave men — it seemed there were thousands of them — in hauling a six-inch gun up the precipitous mountainsides, through soft, deep snow, GRIFFITH to the top of the peak, thousands of feet above the level of the sea. It was not as we had been accustomed to think of "sunny Italy," heretofore more often associated with laughing skies and vine-clad hills and a people light of heart. CAN'T WE CHANGE THIS CIGAR SIGN? Why does the motion picture actor, when he portrays an American business man, lawyer, financier, police official, public official or editor, invariably smoke a big, black cigar as a mark of identification? Quite as proverbial as the screen doctor with his goatee and little black bag is the screen business man with his cigar. I have visited business men in their offices, bankers, lawyers and real-estate men, and I cannot recall a single instance where I was ushered into the presence of one who was smoking. And I have observed gentlemen conferring in their offices, with no women present, and never were they indulging in tobacco. Is it a lack of repose that makes the motion picture actor eternally puff? I have seen photoplays where every man in a scene "puffed" until it got on one's nerves. Business men of responsibility (as movie actors always are) have other things on their minds than the fragrant Havana. Cannot a motion picture actor play a scene, open a book, read, go to the telephone, talk business or even think unless he smokes? No actor who has genuine repose, the first essential of fine acting, needs the help of a cigar or a cigarette to ' ' get by' ' when he portrays the man of business. SPY PICTURES OVERDONE As I entered the lobby of the Globe Theater to see William Fox's production of "The Spy," I was handed a large, bright yellow sheet, containing rather startling information regarding the picture. It embraced reprints from the New York Times, telling about Germany's sending many secret agents here and of American residents in Europe being in her service, all of which was set off with a headline caption in very large black letters, saying "A Box Office Riot." It may turn out to be that sort of a riot, for it is not so hard just to make money; but I hardly think there