Hollywood Spectator (Apr-May 1939)

yatn !ing ween a son thi) :wo houses. r2\ ’* w a ‘cmparison <J i mg the second feature length cartoon, however, comparisons between it and Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs inevitably will be made. The present picture, though entertaining, does not approach the earlier one in artistic merit. The Disney genius — and here is one person in Hollywood to whom the much abused term can legitimately be applied — is plainly lacking. For one thing the animation does not have the finesse it had in Snow White. Movements, especially the broader ones, are sometimes so jerky and rapid as to be just the least bit annoying. If the production budget necessitated the use of fewer stills, it would seem that it would have been better to use less of the broad gestures. The texture of the film much of the time is similar to that in the Fleischer short subjects, and somehow in a feature film we expect more. Much Time Given to Byplay More could have been done with the story. The Swift yarn does not appear to possess less potentialities than Snow White. The seven dwarfs, after all, were Disney’s own creations. Characters in Gulliver's Travels are not as individual. Moreover, rather too much time is given over to byplay. The tying up of Gulliver and transporting him to the city occupies too much time, suspends plot movement. Many of the gags are of the more obvious type — people turning purple in the face or disappearing into the distance like a lightning streak. Nevertheless, the picture succeeds in putting across a valuable thesis — that all our woes could be obviated if we only used our heads instead of our impulses; and it has moments of striking visual loveliness and considerable tickling whimsy. One of the most impressive scenes in the film, “directed’’ by Dave Fleischer, is the slow funereal movement of the great prostrate Gulliver over the countryside, carted by the Lilliputians. Another good scene is Gulliver’s nostalgic singing of his desire for his homeland, alone at the seaside, some rhythmic shots of the waves being worked into the sequence. The mus'cal numbers are one of the best features of the production, and several of the songs should be on the hit list. This second of the feature cartoons is diverting, it presents a good deal of whimsy, visual beauty, engaging music, and succeeds in putting across a timely and socially important theme. Do not approach it expecting it to measure up to Snow White, however. ★ Short subjects now being produced by the major studios frequently cost as high as $45,000 to $50,000. Of Mice And Men Is Starkly Grim OF MICE AND MEN. Hal Roach Producer-director . Lewis Milestone Associate producer Frank Ross Screen play Eugene Solow Director of photography: Norbert Brodine. ASC. Photographic effects Roy Seawright Editor Bert Jordan Art director Nicolai Remisoff Interior decorator W. L. Stevens Sound recorder William Randall Musical score Aaron Copland Conductor Irvin Talbot Cast: Burgess Meredith, Betty Field, Lon Chaney, Jr., Charles Bickford, Roman Bohnen, Bob Steele, Noah Beery, Jr., Granville Bates, Oscar O'Shea, Leigh Whipper. Reviewed by Bert Harlen SEVERAL of my confreres fell to talking in the lobby after the preview, myself being one of the group, and it was generally agreed that Of Mice and Men would either be a boxoffice flop or a hit. No in between. It is as starkly grim as anything the screen has presented. One woman member of the group said she thought she had seen everything in nerve-depleting dramas in The Elunchback of Notre Dame, but that on the present occasion she was utterly spent. From several aspects Of Mice and Men is an admirable presentation. It is searching, it is honest, its two main protagonists are as individual, alive, richly compounded as any figures to turn up in dramatic literature during recent years. Whether the film will please everyone or not, I think the screen is benefited by the production of the piece. Its Production Inevitable <J Not that any bouquets for courage or farsightedness are due Producer Hal Roach. The book was widely read, the play a New York success — in fact, chosen as the best play of the year by the New York critics — and the story would have been brought to the screen irrespective of its subject matter. It is evident, moreover, that had the story been presented to any studio as an original, it would have got past the first reader. John Steinbeck’s tale of the strange attachment between two lonely ranch hands, one a little fellow with the brains, the other a great brute with a feeble mind, is by now pretty generally known. In his direction Lewis Milestone has given numerous impressive cinematic touches to the piece, and yet the film, screen-played by Eugene Solow, follows very closely the stage play of George S. Kaufman, even to the intact inclusion of a sequence in which an old man is persuaded to let his faithful dog be shot, his only friend, for it too is old and smells, a scene with force but slightly too long for what it accomplishes with respect to the play as a whole. Is Abysmally Depressing <J “The best laid schemes o’ mice and men oft go astray,” from Robert Burns, provides both the title and the theme of the play. The theme is given object illustration among the characters; George, the great brute Lennie, and the old man do not get the farm and independence they have dreamed of; Lennie does not get to feed the rabbits, only a bullet into his feeble brain; the pretty, capricious wife of the ranch owner’s son does not go to Hollywood, but death strikes suddenly at her too. It is all as near to being tragedy, in the sense of the traditional dramatic genre, as anything you will have seen on the screen. It will leave you abysmally depressed, a bad taste in your mouth. Yet it will have given you a strange stimulation too. I specified tragedy as a dramatic genre, because, according to the theorists, a dramatist is entitled to assume, in that form, as lugubrious an attitude toward life as he cares to, and the whole is supposed to have a “cathartic’’ effect on the spectator. The motion picture, however, is essentially a realistic medium, and the present picture undoubtedly will be scored in some quarters — especially by California chamber of commerce groups — for its violation of strict representation both with respect to life on a California ranch and with respect to life in general. Plainly Steinbeck is prone to look on the darker side of things, a propensity observable in his other works too. Of George and Lennie <fl Performances also seem to follow closely the interpretations given on the stage, a bit too much so on occasion. Burgess Meredith is excellent as George, the brain of the duo. His work is restrained, thoughtful. Lon Chaney, Jr., is a good type for Lennie, many of his scenes make telling photographic compositions, and at times his whole performance rises to peaks of power, especially in the scene where, urged by George, he turns against the ranch owner’s son, who has been pelting him in the face, catches the fellow’s hand in mid air and squeezes it till the bones crumble — a horrible business. At other times, though, Chaney is too broad, and especially in scenes'which called for simplicity. This detracts from the effectiveness of the film. As George says of Lennie, “He’s dumb, but not crazy.” Chaney part of the time makes him all but a maniac. The actor has a great deal to work with, and these portions of overstress may impress many, but the fact remains that, for the dis JANUARY 6, 1940 PAGE SEVEN