Hollywood Spectator (1937-39)

Hollywood Spectator Page Fifteen CINEMATIC SOLILOQUY Induced by RANDOM NOTES from the LITTLE SCRATCH PAD of MABEL KEEFER II JORLD is too old-fashioned! . . . Jotted that ff down on my little scratch pad after having it suddenly borne in upon me that such is the case, and now I must examine the idea further. ... To begin with, nations are doing the same old things they were doing thousands of years ago — warring upon each other, strong nations preying upon the weak — and, by all that’s good, they think they are forging ahead. The truth of the matter is, they are standing still while the scenery goes by. . . . The democracies of the world may consider themselves up to date, in that they have discarded the antiquated idea that might makes right. . . . We of the United States of America, though we are a long way from reaching our goal, have less exploitation and more realization of the responsibility of the strong for the weak, which means that, as a nation, we have progressed. But, as individuals — I wonder? There are so many old-fashioned ideas that we cling to, and — the irony of it — think that we are being up to date and sophisticated (that word’s here again) in doing so. For instance, what could be more old-fashioned than the drinking parties which are a modern imitation of the revelries of the followers of Bacchus? And we worship idols galore! . . . When Bobbie Burns wrote “O wad some power the giftie gie us, to see oursels as ithers see us!” he could not know that one day there would be a medium by which humanity might view its idiosyncrasies. If he were living today he, perhaps, would ask that we might use that medium — the medium of the screen — to keep us from slipping back into those quaint old-fashioned customs which we think are modern, because we have forgotten the past. * * * AFTER reading in Dr. Ussher’s review of the music ** in The Life and Loves of Beethoven, that there is a vocal adaptation of the opening portion of the Moonlight Sonata, I have a vague feeling of something quite depressing having happened. . . . Words for the Moonlight Sonata — the spell of enchantment woven by the music, broken by words. To think that anyone should presume to put his own words to music that has an individual meaning for each listener. * * * SOME young men who pride themselves on being hard boiled, and who had no intention of going to see anything so foolish as Snow White, finally gave in to curiosity and went to see the picture. They succumbed to its charm unreservedly — and why? Because the picture is made from that good box-office recipe, which includes scenic beauty, wholesomeness, infectious music and infectious humor. Walt Disney and his associates understand psychological effects and right values. * * * f\UOTING LeRoy Prinz, dance director in chief for Paramount, the New York Herald Tribune says: ‘‘He contends that the supergargantuan musicals that have been rolling out of Hollywood will be replaced soon by new musicals of more intimate nature.” Glory be! * * * JN DAYS of old, before knights were bold, the I Caveman reigned supreme. He’d stalk his prey, and with the ladies he’d a way which really does seem quite extreme. If he loved a maiden fair, he’d take her by the hair — maybe hit her with a great big stick — and by all the stars above, with him she’d fall in love without his using any rhetoric. Chorus: In the good old Caveman days, when men had such winning ways, they needed no flowers, no taxis and things: no theatre tickets and no diamond rings. They didn’t have to shave each day, or wear a derby hat, and the cane they always carried looked quite like a baseball bat. They didn’t have to spend ten bucks their lady friends to feed when they took them for a little evening out — oh, no indeed! In the good old Caveman days, when men had such winning ways, they needed no flowers, no taxis and things: no theatre tickets and no diamond rings. Oh, it must have been just fine, not to have to have a “line”, but just use those winning ways, in the good old Caveman days. * * * OF HUMAN HEARTS, the M-G-M picture, is of the kind we can welcome heartily. The comments upon its theme are interesting. I learn that it is a splendid picture for Mother’s Day because it shows so clearly what mothers will sacrifice for their children and how thankless children are. Also it is clearly intended to show that a conscientious minister is as fine in his ministry to souls as a doctor is to bodies. Again, it is a wonderful lesson to mothers not to sacrifice for their children lest it make them selfish. Or, is it a historic drama, showing life and ideals of a short century ago, and thus offering an explanation of some of the practices of today which are greatly at variance with those of that time? I am sorry that M-G-M and Clarence Brown did not portray a more natural town in which the minister and his family could live. There are only two boys and one girl as children, no school, no people between fifteen and forty, yet it is a frontier town. * * * A SMILE such as adagio dancers wear when the im. orchestra misses its cue. — Weare Holbrook. Isn’t that descriptive? ONE of the janitors in our office building has a habit of going through the hallways making a soft cooing sound — as if he were saying, ‘‘Cuckoo! Cuckoo!” — and it sometimes makes me vaguely uneasy, in that it seems to find an echo in my brain. ... I wonder?