Hollywood Spectator (1931)

July 18, 1931 >7 mild correction be taken as a slap at Airedales. I think they are very nice dogs. They are, of course, large, boisterous and flea fanciers par excellence. They have not, I think, a Boston’s aristocratic outlook upon life. Most Airedales are rather ragamuffin fellows with sorrowful eyes and a hankering for garbage cans. But I like them, and upon thinking it over, I may buy one, not only as company for the Boston, but also to sustain Mr. Beaton’s reputation for veracity. We Take a Walk T T It was one of those immoderately hot afternoons we have been having lately. Acting upon an impulse we left the car and took a short walk through winding streets. The streets followed the course of the least resistance among the foothills, and were lined with fences, flowers and unpainted shacks. Mexican children — hundreds of them, I think — swarmed in the sunshine, and each one had a dog. They watched us — the children and the dogs — with wide solemn eyes. The principal street lay through a little valley, and we could look toward the surrounding hills and see back-yard fences in a state of crazy disrepair making zig-zag diagrams on the slopes. A goat tethered to a gatepost was butting an inquisitive dog. Some of the roofs were repaired with beaten tin cans that caught the sunlight in golden stains. An air of genial disenchantment hung over the street. “People live in places like this because they don’t know any better,” said my companion. He glanced at me and then looked at the scene before him. An expression of doubt played about his eyes. “Or perhaps because they know too much,” he added softly. The children and dogs stared at us and the sun scorched us and for a moment or two we both felt a little foolish. Trumbo Reviews ▼ ▼ The sole obligation imposed upon me by Mr. Beaton at the time we discussed motion picture reviews was that I speak truthfully, and to the best of my ability, logically. Aside from this agreeable condition I am unrestrained. In my reports I shall have no thought, even though I were able to accomplish the task, of saving the industry, or of reforming it. My opinions shall be merely those of a middling intelligent person who probably represents a number of millions of middling intelligent persons with box-office money in their pockets. Heretofore I have discriminated in my theatre attendance, seeing only such pictures as were recommended by responsible reviewers and friends whose judgment I respected. Thus I have seen the better showings. From this time forward I shall view the mill run product. If I find it fairly poor— as I frankly anticipate — it will be only because the mill run of everything from novels and plays to smoking tobacco is generally poor. I take over the work with the strong conviction that the motion picture is an art distinct from all other arts, and inferior in potentialities to none of them. Moreover, I believe that good art is good business, and have gathered enough material on the matter to substantiate the conclusion to my Norman's ART SHOP The Home of Harmonic Framing Paintings Restored and Refinished 6653 Hollywood Boulevard Visitors Welcome own satisfaction. I have prejudices, and despite my precautions they will occasionally slip into view. For them I can only ask to be pardoned. It is natural that I should desire to make friends for the Spectator, and incidentally for myself, and only decent that I should hope to make them without resorting to any type of critical prostitution. Very Tame W LAUGHING SINNERS is Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s idea of regeneration, with a dash of sin, a pinch of entertainment, and an abundance of improbable situations. We are asked to believe that Joan Crawford, a cabaret girl, after sleeping two years with her traveling salesman sweetheart, Neil Hamilton, really believes that the gentleman is going to marry her. After he has shied from the altar and profitably married someone else, we are forced to witness Miss Crawford’s spiritual seduction at the hands of Clark Gable, a Salvation Army worker, and eventually her complete redemption in the midst of children and sunshine, her talented limbs swathed in the dark skirts of a street singing tambourine shaker. Holding no grudge for the Army, still I question the feasibility of bringing it or any other existing organization onto the screen. There is always an odor of propaganda about such a proceeding, and in Laughing Sinners there is also a sermon or two. The picture will add nothing to the reputations of Miss Crawford and Neil Hamilton. It may even hurt them. V V Clark Gable, whom I remember with pleasure for his work in The Secret Six, is handicapped as the Salvation Army officer. Guy Kibbee furnishes the most enjoyable performance of the show, and Marjorie Rambeau is competent in her hard-boiled role. The dialogue is as smooth, as obviously timed and as torrential as a phonograph disc. The S we climb the hill of prosperity may we never meet an old friend coming down. George Sidney