The Film Spectator (Mar-Dec 1928)

March 3, 1928 society anywhere. Yet he is the hero of a story about West Point and the manly boys there. Joan Crawford is shown as rejecting a handsome fellow, with all the instincts of a gentleman, to accept Haines who outrages all of them. The characterization can not be defended on the same ground that we can defend our thief or hijacker. No reason whatever is established to excuse Haines. For five or six reels he is a pest, and for the rest of the picture he isn't. His regeneration comes after we are so thoroughly disgusted with him that we would rather see him choked than forgiven. At best it is only an imitation of the regeneration theme. As I have said, under certain circumstances we can forgive a man being a thief or hijacker. Under no circumstances can we forgive him being a pest. It simply is not done in decent society. No author can write well enough, no director direct well enough, and no actor act well enough to make plausible and likable a rude, vulgar, conceited, wisecracking, boorish hero. I can't recall the name of the picture in which Haines made his first hit, but I remember that I liked it. He was an amusing wisecracker, and he retained my sympathy. With that shortsightedness that is a characteristic of motion picture producers, Metro overlooked the fact that it was the likable quality in Haines that made him popular, and proceeded on the assumption that audiences were pleased with his obnoxious side. In his last few pictures an effort has been made to have him as obnoxious as possible. The only result of this policy will be to reduce his box-office value. The similarity of his characterizations is contributing to it. It does not make a great deal of difference to Metro, for it can develop another star to take his place when he is through. But I feel sorry for Haines. He has a certain flair for comedy that would retain for him his popularity for a long time if he were given stories that presented him as a likable fellow. West Point is a well produced and well directed picture, but is not as good as Dress Parade, which Donald Crisp made for De Mille in the same locale. In Dress Parade Bill Boyd's characterization is made plausible by his early environment. The only creditable performance in West Point is that of young William Bakewell. He is a lad who should go a long way. It was impossible for Joan Crawford to give a convincing performance, as it was inconceivable that she should fall in love with such a disgusting ass as the hero, whose conduct made the picture the most objectionable I have seen in a long time. T ONDON After Midnight is quite the queerest motion •*-' picture I ever saw. For once Tod Browning gets too deep for my poor understanding. I do not know if I was expected to take it seriously as a treatise on the application of hypnotism to crime detection, or whether I was to regard it as a fanciful joke. My difficulty in deciding is caused by the fact that it is too ridiculous to be considered seriously, and was treated too seriously to be regarded as a joke. On this reasoning. Tod failed to hit whichever mark he aimed at. To me the funniest thing in it is Lon Chaney's acting. The magnificent Chinaman of Mr. Wu is a comical figure in his conception of a Scotland Yard inspector. The fact that there may have been, or may be, an inspector whom Lon copied exactly does not matter. The screen must make obeisance at least in the direction of our standardized conceptions. I agree with Trader Horn when he says: "But the correctful thing in all literary THE FILM SPECTATOR Page Eleven books is to remember that even the truth may need suppressing if it appears out of tangent with the common man's notion of reality." Next in comedy value in this picture is Lon as the hump-backed runt with all the teeth. I can't understand why he was in the picture. The makeup no doubt pleased Lon, but that is not sufficient reason. However, the whole thing is too utterly silly to warrant detailed criticism. There is about one reel of story embellished by six reels of utter rot. If the Scotland Yard man wanted to hypnotize Conrad Nagel and Henry B. Walthall surely he could have managed it without dragging in a vampire for which there is no authority beyond Slavic folklore, an old man with startling teeth, and a woman who looks like a bit of animated death. Browning and Chaney have demonstrated in the past that they can make good pictures. They should continue to do so by leaving such crazy things as London After Midnight alone. * * * TTONEYMOON Flats, directed for Universal by Millard ■*• •*■ Webb, and starring George Lewis and Dorothy Gulliver, is a delightful little picture. It deals with well dressed young people in pleasant surroundings, and has a capable supporting cast composed of Kathryn Williams, Jane Winton, Bryant Washburn, Ward Crane, and Phillips Smalley. It opens with a wedding scene of considerable pictorial value, and thereafter deals with the affairs of the bride and groom. It is a happy little thing, and such tribulations as befall the principal characters are serious to them, but amusing to the audience. Webb handles it with the best of taste, his direction being intelligent throughout. We should have more pictures of the sort. The seamy side of life is stressed too much on the screen. We can stand more youth and beauty, and less ugliness. George Lewis gives a capital performance. He improves with each picture and justifies the confidence I had in him three or four years ago when I took him to Jesse Lasky and urged that he be given a chance on the Paramount lot. At that time Lewis had never been inside a studio and had not seen a motion picture camera, but I had seen him in high school theatricals in Coronado, and had persuaded him to come to Hollywood and have a go at pictures. Nothing came of the Lasky visit, and for some time it was with extreme difficulty that I kept the boy from starving to death. But he is getting a nice salary now, soon will marry his Mary Lou, and move into a honeymoon flat of his own. All of which is very nice. But I was talking about Honeymoon Flats. Dorothy Gulliver gives a pleasing performance, as do all the members of the cast. The picture will not cause a furore, but any exhibitor who books it will give his patrons some pleasant entertainment. * * * SORRELL and Son was made from a successful book. The book is a well written one, the work of an educated, cultured author, who makes it a creditable contribution to current literature. The screen takes it. In transferring it into a picture it was necessary in some instances — titles — to use the same medium of expression that the original author employed. There is nothing mysterious about the use of the English language. The rules that govern it have been established by a thousand years of evolution. They are fixed, and anyone can learn them. Given a thought, there is an established method of expressting it. One title in Sorrell and Son reads: "Thank God! He had you to do it for him." The man who wrote the