Hollywood Spectator (Apr-May 1939)

What iate (JheJ Jiwk iike Too Mitch Chatter for Easy Digestion • THE RETURN OF THE CISCO KID; 20thFox production; directed by Herbert I. Leeds; associate producer, Kenneth Macgowan; screen play, Milton Sperling; based on character created by O. Henry; photography, Charles Clarke; art direction, Richard Day; associate art direction, Wiard B. Ihnen; film editor, James B. Clark; costumes, Gwen Wakeling; musical direction, Cyril J. Mockridge. Stars Warner Baxter. Features Lynn Bari, Cesar Romero, Henry Hull, Kane Richmond, C. Henry Gordon and Robert Barrat. Supporting cast: Chris-Pin Martin, Adrian Morris, Soledad Jimenez, Harry Strang, Arthur Aylesworth, Paul Burns, Victor Kilian, Eddie Waller, Ruth Gillette, Ward Bond. Running time, 70 minutes. OTHING the matter with the Cisco Kid himself, but the vehicle in which he is brought back to us is such a poor thing it makes us wonder why Century did not let him stay dead. There is nothing the matter with Warner Baxter’s repetition of the role. He is the same flashing, smiling daredevil we liked so well nearly a decade ago and who now is brought from the grave only to be knocked back into it by the story written for his resurrection. The Return of the Cisco Kid is not satisfactory screen entertainment chiefly because it talks too much. At least half the chatter is without story value and seems to be indulged in for its own sake. An instance is the writing of the part played by that talented actor, Henry Hull. He is characterized as a drunken swindler who stops talking only when he is guzzling whiskey and whose part in motivating the story is much too trivial to justify the irritation he causes. He merely is the traveling companion of Lynn Bari, the leading woman, a part which could have contributed to the entertainment value of the picture if it had been written for a less blabby player, either male or female, and not written on the theory that there is comedy value in constant swilling of liquor. Outstanding for Beauty *1 Visually, the picture is a beautiful thing, Charles Clarke, its cameraman, being entitled to billing as its star. It brings to us the mood of the desert with long vistas of its grotesque loveliness, its peaks and plains, its lights and shadows, but too little of the cloak of silence which makes it so impressive. It is a setting which demanded for its complement the subdued sparse talking of men whose actions make their silence eloquent. But instead of what we should have had — a story which could be told completely without asking us to listen to more than two hundred speeches — On This Page HE last Spectator contained reviews of ten pictures; the three before it, going backwards, had 17, 16, 11 respectively. This Spectator has 8 reviews, one of them having been crowded out of the last issue and held over for this one. The review-content of a Spectator is something beyond our power to control; if the studios do not preview pictures, we cannot review them. Hollywood understands that, but possibly the Spectator’s readers outside Hollywood may attribute the fluctuations in the number of reviews published in each issue to be due to the rise and fall of the energy of our reviewers. Quite a number of big and little pictures are nearing completion, and it is not likely any future Spectator will contain as few reviews as we present in this issue. Among the reviews the Spectator can promise to present in its next issue are those of Juarez. Union Pacific, The Confessions of a Nazi Spy, all important pictures. we are given one which contains over two thousand, most of which are nothing but meaningless noise. An example of gratuitous presentation of voice for its own sake: A fire breaks out and threatens the desert community's principal building. The men get buckets, fill them with water and try to drown the fire. The desert, I remind you, breeds silent men, tightlipped men who battle with it for existence. There was chance for drama in the fight with the fire — the grim men of the desert doggedly, silently striving to conquer the flames. But that is not what we get. During the entire fire sequence the men are yelling at the tops of their voices and running in circles like a lot of astonished rabbits. I am not aware whether producer, writer or director is to blame for such ineptitude, but if it were divided into three parts, there would be a big helping for each of them. Performances Are Capable <| Strangely enough, all the performances, as such, will give satisfaction even though you will not like the picture as a whole. Warner Baxter is as convincing as the Cisco Kid as he was when the part started him on the road to fame and fortune. It is unfortunate for him that the character was brought back in a picture poorly written and poorly directed. Lynn Bari and Kane Richmond make the most of a romance, and as a team of cheerful desperadoes Cesar Romero and Chris-Pin Martin give excel lent accounts of themselves. The veteran Robert Barrat contributes one of those discerning, convincing characterizations we have learned to expect from him. C. Henry Gordon, one of Hollywood’s most capable actors, gives a brief part story value. Soledad Jimenez is another who capably adds her bit. As is the case with all Century productions, this one reflects credit on all technicians who had a hand in its making. Sound recording by Arthur von Kirbach and Roger Heman is particularly commendable, and as much can be said for the film editing of James B. Clark. The Century art department provided sets which are responsible in a large part for both the creation and maintenance of the atmosphere of the period which the story deals with. Constant talking probably will exhaust the patience of adult audiences, but the action should please the youngsters. Study groups should note the excess of dialogue which has no story value. Mickey's Mugging Mars the Mirth • THE HARDYS RIDE HIGH; MGM; director, George B. Seitz; musical score, David Snell; art director, Cedric Gibbons; associate art director, Eddie Imazu; set decorations, Edwin B. Willis; photography, Lester White; film editor, Ben Lewis. Cast: Lewis Stone, Mickey Rooney, Cecilia Parker, Fay Holden, Ann Rutherford, Sara Haden, Virginia Grey, Minor Watson, John King, John T. Murray, George Irving, Halliwell Hobbes, Aileen Pringle, Marsha Hunt, Donald Briggs, William Orr, Truman Bradley. Running time, 75 minutes. HILE The Hardys Ride High measures up all right with the best of the smaller pictures, it is the poorest of the Hardy series. The story suffers from a constitutional weakness: it gives the Hardys a two-million-dollar inheritance, and after a couple of days takes it away from them, thus getting nowhere in particular. But that is not the chief weakness of the picture as entertainment. Mickey Rooney spoils it with his mugging. It is by long odds the worst performance he has given in one of the series. Under the capable direction of George Seitz, the Hardy pictures made Rooney one of the screen s important actors, gave him fourth place in the list of money-making stars. When it was announced that W. S. Van Dyke was to direct the Hardy picture to follow Ride High, some speculation was caused in film circles. Daily Variety explained the shift by stating that “one of the top players” was getting out of hand, that Lion Tamer Van Dyke was called in to tame him. The PAGE EIGHT HOLLYWOOD SPECTATOR