Hollywood Spectator (1937-39)

Hollywood Spectator Page Eleven loway, Nydia Westman, Jack Smart and Franklin Pangborn. I hope I have not conveyed the impression that When Love Is Young is a total loss. My complaint is that it could have been much better than it is, but perhaps it has quite enough merit to justify your seeing it. ^Reviews by c Paul Jacobs Not Clever, But Cute GIRL OVERBOARD, Universal picture and release. Directed by Sidney Salkow; associate producer, Robert Presnell; original by Sarah Elizabeth Rodger; screen play by Tristram Tupper; photographed by Ira Morgan; sound supervisor, Homer G. Tasker; special effects by John P. Fulton; film editor, Philip Cahn; musical direction by Charles Previn; art director, Jack Otterson; associate art director, Ralph DeLacy. Cast: Gloria Stuart, Walter Pidgeon, Billy Burrud, Hobart Cavanaugh, Gerald Oliver-Smith, Sidney Blackmer, Jack Smart, David Oliver, Charlotte Wynters, Russell Hicks, R. E. O'Connor, Edward McNamara. Running time, 58 minutes. A FLAMING sea-disaster, a relentless reporter and a corsage-pin murder are not quite enough to pull this one into the upper brackets. But Girl Overboard is perfect fodder for the unsophisticated. Among its many attractions is the presence of Walter Pidgeon, unquestionably one of America’s finest actors. His interpretation of the clean-cut, warmly human D.A. is the highlight of this film. And certainly far from least important is the winsomly sincere personality of Gloria Stuart. Her appeal was graphically expressed by the fervent comment of my preview companion, a young man of distinct taste. When I asked him how he liked the picture, his succinct comeback was: “Boy, would I like to meet her!” So would I. Particulary difficult is the job of Billy Burrud. I am one of those monsters who delight in tearing child actors limb from limb. His big scene, where he is pulled screaming from his dead mother, brought a big, warm lump into my throat. Hobart Cavanaugh, of course, is his utterly reliable self. Some day some bright producer will let Mr. Cavanaugh do something other than meek husband sleuthing detectives; and said producer will find he has long overlooked a real bet. ^^N OTHER favorite of mine, that slick old meanie Sidney Blackmer, brings us another epicurean taste of pure and delicate villainy. Mr. Blackmer is seen much too seldom. Gerold Oliver-Smith does a cleverly lighttempoed burlesque on Hollywood’s idea of what a welltrained butler should be like. You will see Mr. OliverSmith frequently, I venture to predict. Vivid bits are supplied by Jack Smart, David Oliver, Russell Hicks, and Edward McNamara. And since no murder mystery seems complete without R. E. O’Conner lurking somewhere in the background, he again assumes a badge and flat feet with the ease of habit. Although she appears but briefly, Charlotte Wynters makes her contribution vividly effective. Given the competent scripting of Tristram Tupper and the professionally smooth direction of Sidney Salkow, Girl Overboard is unimportant but compact entertainment. Color Can’t Compete REFLECTION, Featuretfes, Inc. From Liberty Magazine short short story, AT A PERFORMANCE OF PAGLIACCI, by Edwin Baird; produced by George S. Fox; directed by Tommy Atkins; screen play by Dale Armstrong; photography, Max Stengler; musical director, Lee Zahler; color director, Roy Klaffki; film editor* Holbrook Todd; sound engineer, Glen Glenn; ballet direction by Theodore Kosloff. Cast: Esther Ralston, Pierre Watkin and Brooks Benedict. A CORKING idea is often spoiled by losing the idea *1 in its execution. That a series of “short-short” stories would make pungent novelty subjects is true and an excellent way of inducing the return of single features. But Producer George S. Fox made the mistake of using color and of allowing its scope to interfere with the story. We have the action taking place during a performance of Pagliacci; the vivid swirl of color, the confusion of inter-splashed patterns of movement confuse us to the point of losing both the story and our interest. Unable to focus our attention on either Pagliacci or the tribulations of Esther Ralston who, by the way, gives a brilliant performance, we wait for the final sign instead of the denouemont. However, the inner idea is sound; and Mr. Fox has my vote of thanks for a pleasurable anticipation of new filmic entertainment. Naish Is a Natural SONG OF THE CITY, Metro picture and release. Directed by Errol Taggart; produced by Lucien Hubbard and Michael Fessier; original story and screen play by Michael Fessier; music by Dr. William Axt; lyrics by Gus Kahn; recording director, Douglas Shearer; associates, Eddie Imazu and Edwin B. Willis; wardrobe by Dolly Tree; photographed by Leonard Smith; film editor, John B. Rogers; assistant director, Marvin Stuart. Cast: Margaret Lindsay, Jeffrey Dean, J. Carrol Naish, Nat Pendleton, Stanley Morner, Marla Shelton, Inez Palange, Charles Judels, Edward Norris, Fay Helm, Frank Puglia. Running time, 68 minutes. /UST what Song of the City has to do with a song of ,the city I couldn’t find out. But Song of the City is a pleasing song of the sea. We spend most of our running time in the tangy atmosphere of the fishing fleet at San Francisco. Little Italy with its lilting tempo lives joyously and gives us its vivid patterns. We spend our emotions on the tribulations of Papa Ramandi and his bambinos. And we enjoy ourselves hugely. Out of the many impressions I carried away, two remain most vivid. The first is a glow of pleasure I derived from the exceptional performance of J. Carrol Naish. Always tops, this trouper carries away the first half dozen places for acting. Whatever is left may be amiably divided among {he cast. My second impression is of the artistry displayed by director Errol Taggart. His creation of atmosphere is splendid. It occurs to me that I may have planted the idea that Song of the City would have cracked in two if Naish