The Film Spectator (Mar-Dec 1928)

Page Twelve THE FILM SPECTATOR December 1, 1928 Reviewed in this Number NIGHTWATCH, THE— A First National picture. -Directed by Alexander Korda; adaptation and continuity by Lajos Biro; photographed by Karl Struss; costume director, Max Eee; art director, Max Parker; edited by George McGuire. The cast: Billie Dove, Paul Lukas, Donald Reed, Nicholas Soussanin, Anita Garvine, Gustav Partos, William Tooker, George Periolat, Nicholas Bela. SINS OF THE FATHERS— A Paramount picture. Directed by Ludwig Berger; story by Norman Burnstine; adaptation and continuity by E. Lloyd Sheldon; photographed by Victor Milner; dialogue scenes directed by Roy J. Pomeroy. The cast: Emil Jannings, Ruth Chatterton, Barry Norton, Jean Arthur, Zasu Pitts, Mathew Betz, Jack Luden, Arnold Kent, Arthur Housman. SOMEONE TO LOVE— A Paramount picture. Directed by F. Richard Jones; from the story by Alice Duer Miller; adapted by Ray Harris; screen play by Keene Thompson and Monte Brice; photographed by Allen Siegler; assistant director, Arthur Jacobson. The cast: Charles (Buddy) Rogers, Mary Brian, William Austin, Jack Oakie, James Kirkwood, Frank Reicher. SPIELER, THE— A Pathe picture. Directed by Tay Garnett; produced by Ralph Block; author, Hal Conklin; scenarists, Hal Conklin and Tay Garnett; assistant director, R. M. Fellows; production manager, Harry H. Poppe; photographed by Art Miller; art director, Edward J. Jewell; edited by Doane Harrison. The cast: Alan Hale, Renee Adoree, Clyde Cook, Fred Kohler, Fred Warren, Jimmy Quinn, Kewpie Morgan. THE LAUREL GROVE By FRANK T. DAUGHERTY FOR the n'th time I have been reading an old book that has given me much food for thought. It is a book about wars and other things that have to do with human weal and woe, and between its covers are some of the most delightful stories it has ever been my pleasure to read. I am amazed that the movies seem hardly aware of it. I remember in particular a story that tells of two young men and of a friendship that was formed between them. One of these young men was the son of the reigning king of the land, and when his father's army was at a deadlock with the army of the enemy, he went out early one morning with only his armour-bearer to see what might be done by an adventurous young man alone. And it is recorded that as he went he determined in his heart that if the enemy outpost challenged him, he would go back, but if they told him to come up, up he would go. And they told him to come up, and he went up and slew twenty of them in about as many minutes. This hardly seemed a moi ning's work, so he advanced on against the main body of the alien army, and his father, looking out over the battle-field a little later, saw his foe's host in a great confusion, fighting among themselves. Wondering who could have begun the battle so well, he had his own army numbered, and found only his son and his son's armour-bearer missing. You would have supposed that this would have pleased him, and no doubt it did, the book doesn't say — but after the enemy had been ' ut to rout and the field vi-as heaped with their slain, the book says that the king found a quarrel with his son because in the heat of the fight he had picked up a bit of honey on the end of his spear and had eaten it. It seems the king had given orders that no one should eat till sundown. And for this slight fault, the choler of the king was aroused and he determined in himself to put his son to death. The ways of fathers with their sons were stranger in those days even than they are today. But the army objected, and the young man was allowed to live. * * * AND hardly had this matter been settled when the king's army was set in array against another invading host. And this time things looked very dark indeed for the people of the land, who had been sure up to now that their king would save them. And from one of the countrysides over against one of the mountainous districts of the land, came a young stripling from his father's house with corn and bread for his elder brothers, three of whom had joined themselves to the army of the king, and with fresh cheeses for the captains of his brothers' companies. And as very often happened in great battles of those days, about this time the enemy sent out a champion between the lines to challenge the best warrior the king's army could send against him. So the king offered one of his daughters to whoever would go out and bring him in the head of this champion. (This was another ancient practice of those times.) And hearing all the talk, and noticing the reluctance of the king's warriors, the stripling began telling, modestly enough, how he had recently killed both a tsear and a lion with his own hands back in the hill country, and how he didn't think this champion would be so very much worse to face. Of course his audacity was hotly denounced by his brothers, who called him a bragging country bumpkin or something and tried to send him home, after the manner of brothers everywhere; but the king had heard the words of the stripling, and they pleased him, and he sent him out to fight the challenger. And in a very short while the stripling came back with the head of the enemy champion and set it before the king. I haven't read yet whether he got the king's daughter; but I am minded that, a little after this, the young prince and the valiant stripling chanced to meet, and when they looked at each other, the book says, they loved each other. . . and you don't wonder at it at all. And the name of the young prince was Jonathan, and of the country boy, David. * * * AND of course someone is going to take me to task and say, "Oh, you mean the Bible — but that's been done. Look at The Ten Commandments and The King of Kings!" And I will have to answer that I do mean the Bible — but that I don't by any chance mean The Ten Commandments or The King of Kings. They were all right as far as they went. Somehow, I didn't seem to get very much from either one of them. I mean the pictures, of course; not the real Ten Commandments nor the real King of Kings. Those two things have guided many a civilization and many a nation and many an individual into higher planes of thought than I dare to venture very often. But that's just my complaint. Here the movies try to present in seven reels and in two hours what the rest of the world has spent upwards of six thousand years learning and pondering. Why, any one of the Ten Commandments, or any one of the acts of the King of Kings ought to make a movie — ought to make a hundred movies. Somehow, both these pictures seemed just as preposterous to me as if some movie producer should attempt to make a history of the univers in seven reels. And maybe that could be more adequately handled. * * * BUT in the Old Testament and in the New, are stories of transcending charm and far-reaching import, which could be made into pictures very nicely. And very profitably, too. Think what a pastorale the story of Ruth would make! Beginning with the tragedy in the lives of the noble Naomi and Ruth, and ending with the golden harvests in the land where "thy people" shall have become "my people", and with the marriage of Boaz to Ruth. Such stories are not, strictly speaking, sermons. They do not ram a moral down your throat and then seal it there with a lot of self-righteous preachments, as so many of us do when we try to tell a story with a moral. Told as simple narratives, and deviating not so much as a hair's breadth from their originals, they stand in their own right as great and noble heritages of the race. Does