Hollywood Spectator (1937-39)

Page Fourteen October I, 1938 would have made his performance a hit in a better production. The picture, however, is just a stereotyped rendition of the old yarn about the conceited and defiant young man who goes to West Point for ulterior reasons, in this case a major’s daughter, but turns out to be a right good sort under the discipline and ideals he finds there. Not that this situation could not yet be made into an entertaining film, if it serves as the thread upon which to hang some interesting commentary on the institution. But Touchdown, Army is all thread. Stock Shots Are Many . . . HE picture is hastily and carelessly produced. What percentage of it is composed of stock shots of the students and their football team I would not venture to guess, but it is large. Photographically these shots range all the way from murky grey to near black. This is not intended as a reflection on Cameraman Victor Milner, who probably had little or nothing to do with the choice of the stock views, and whose scenes are well lighted. The best stretches of screen play writing, done by Lloyd Corrigan and Erwin Gelsey, are fortunately the scenes in which Cummings appears. Or maybe he makes them seem better than they are. Silly dialogue writing is the almost incomprehensibly erudite language employed by the upper classman when they are hazing the plebes. A prize improbability is when one of the characters, with false whiskers and a wig, disguises himself as an old colonel, takes the center of the floor at a party, fooling everybody. The only originality occurs in the scoring of the telling touchdown in the football game, which is accomplished in a spectacular way. Direction Is Workmanlike . . . OF THE other leading players, John Howard is sorrowly miscast as a student, being too mature as a type, especially in a sequence when he is supposed to be a plebe. Mary Carlisle plays with capability the rather transparent role of the major’s daughter. Owen Davis, Jr., knows how to speak lines, but he should not pitch his voice so high. Raymond Hatton stands out for his trouping as the make-believe colonel, even though the idea was absurd, and William Frawley, Benny Baker and Minor Watson give good accounts of themselves. Director Kurt Neuman handles his people in a workmanlike way — but it just wasn’t in the cards. Anyway, the public will get a good performance for their money — or the motion picture industry’s money. HE ORDERS BUTTERMILK . . . • STARLIGHT OVER TEXAS; Edward Finney picture for Monogram release; stars Tex Ritter; director, A1 Herman; screen play by John Rathmell; based on an original idea by Harry MacPherson; photography, Francis Corby; sound recording, Glen Glenn; film editor, Fred Bain; songs, "Starlight Over Texas," by Harry Tobias and Roy Ingraham; “Ai! Viva Tequila!/' Al Von Tilzer and Harry MacPherson; "A Garden in Granada," by Sam Lewis, Abel Baer and Ion Vasilescu; "Pickins," by A. J. Brier; "Twilight on the Trail," by Merle Scobee; musical director, Frank Sanucci. Supporting players: Salvatore Damino, Carmen LaRoux, Rosa Turick, Horace Murphy, Snub Pollard, Karl Hackett, Charles King, Jr., Martin Garralaga, George Chesebro, Carlos Villarias, Edward Cassidy and the Northwesterns, including Merle Scobee, Ray Scobee, Shorty Brier, Buck Rasch and Chuck Davis. Running time, 58 minutes. Reviewed by Bert Harlen WESTERN of above-the-average calibre. Tex Ritter makes his initial appearance as a Monogram star, and a production of considerable color and excitement has been built around him. He brings a pronounced Texas drawl to the screen, an expressive, sometimes fervid, singing style, and an ease and affability which should gain him many friends among the fans of pictures of this sort. Starlight Over Texas is generously studded with musical numbers. A fiesta scene, laid on a ranch in old Mexico, is staged with uncommon elaborateness for a Western picture, and a number of Mexican dancers perform with dash and grace. A creditable screen play has been turned out by John Rathmell, based on an original of Harry MacPherson. There are only a few basic plots on which Western stories can be built, and the merit of such a script lies in the fictional embellishments and the byplay of the characters. These touches the present story has. The hero even indulges in some philosophical passages on the seemingly animate nature of guns, a speech handled rather well by Ritter, by the by. An amusing incident is when the hero saunters up to the bar and orders buttermilk, a noncon