International photographer (Jan-Dec 1930)

December, 1930 The INTERNATIONAL PHOTOGRAPHER Twenty-seven the fame so lavishly bestowed upon the child who through the grace and greatness of Charles Chaplin was permitted to be a co-star in "The Kid." It is Jackie's first talking picture. Certainly it will not be his last. The portrayal of Becky Thatcher by Mitzi Green is worthy of an adult trouper — one that sticks in the memory days after seeing the picture. Little Jackie Searl as Sid the annoying kid is entitled to several bows, too. So also among the younger players may be named Junior Durkin as Huck and Dick Winslow as Joe Harper. Clara Blandick as Aunt Polly stands out in an excellent company that includes Lucien Littlefield as the schoolmaster, Tully Marshall as Muff Potter, Charles Stevens as Injun Joe and Charles Sellon as the minister. Charles Lang was at the head of the efficient camera crew which photographed the picture. "Tom Sawyer" is worthy of the posting of SRO on Saturday and holiday matinees and of a full house at night. It is a picture for children and for their elders. Many of the latter will experience a choke behind the chuckle that accompanies the fading of the pictui'e. Feet First HAROLD LLOYD in constructing "Feet First" sticks closely to the bridge that carried him over —with fidelity adheres to the picturemaking formula that has been the foundation of the Lloyd millions. From the beginning the public with unfailing regularity has responded to his offerings by laying down its half dollars at the box office— which after all, from the producer's viewpoint, is the best criterion of what the public wants for entertainment. In the case of Lloyd productions the seeker for amusement knows first of all he need have no hesitation in bringing with him the whole family, a not unimportant factor. He knows, too, he is going to see a simple story, one that disregards ordinary production values, such as enormous sets filled with gorgeously if scantily gowned women, etcetera, etcetra. The same seeker for amusement knows, too, he is going to meet up with thrills — and he does in "Feet First." To be sure, they have to do with the side of a skyscraper, a background not unfamiliar to the star's train of followers. But nature each year provides additional millions of picturegoers — to all of whom these things are new. The present subject brings Lloyd into the picture as a shoe salesman, one whose native ability is perhaps not on a par with his great ambition — to be a big shoe man. In the effort to supply the apparent deficiency there is resort to correspondence school courses — with embarrassing results. Singularly enough, the embarrassment frequently extends to the interested person out front. A susceptible follower completely under the spell of the aspiring salesman may feel his cheeks burn as one complication succeeds another. It is a tribute to the sincerity of the performer, to his ca pacity for portrayal, but it raises a question if it be entertainment of the more satisfying kind. The present reviewer recalls no similar instance, but nevertheless the feeling distinctly was present. Many of the scenes are staged on a Hawaiian ship, on which the salesman is an unregistered passenger without funds and incidentally with a perfectly normal appetite. Efforts in some measure to abate this latter handicap to an otherwise exceedingly pleasant trip supply much comedy. The thrills come in the last quarter of the picture. Most of these are on the outside of an office building. There is comedy in these, too, supplied by Sleep 'n' Eat, who is as true to life as it is possible for a genuine black man to be — and thereby qualifies as an actor of quality. The outboard plank sequence will be too long for many adults — but not for the youngsters, who absorb it all. The picture was directed by Clyde Bruckman and photographed by Walter Landin. The former was responsible for the story in collaboration with John Grey and Al Cohn. Lex Neal and Felix Adler wrote the scenario. Double honors go to Paul Gerard Smith, who built the dialogue. In a deck scene Smith portrays with extreme fidelity a passenger who has no time or inclination for eating — and does it not only inoffensively, a rule that does not always obtain in similar circumstances, but most amusingly. Barbara Kent shines as the girl in love with the salesman and Robert McWade and Lillianne Leighton take the parts of her father and mother — and no comment is necessary in the case of players of their rank. The same may be said of Alec Francis, the mentor of the young salesman, and Noah Young, in disguise as a boob sailor. Playboy of Paris LIKABLE as ever is Maurice Chevalier in "Playboy of Paris." Always does he rise above his surroundings, or the medium with which he is surrounded. The entertainment of a Chevalier picture rests in the man himself, in the artist — and the Frenchman easily "belongs" in the rather restricted group entitled to assemble under that exclusive banner, a classification generally loosely employed and likewise grossly abused. And so the entertainment in "Playboy of Paris" rests largely in its star. If that elusive quality be not strikingly present in his theme or his story he puts it into his "business," it emerges from his personality. Assaying him from the male viewpoint, not always an attitude of favorable prejudice by any means when one of the same sex is in the balance, the Frenchman impresses as a "regular guy." Like Emil Jannings for Germany, Chevalier is an ambassador of good will for France — he, too, breaks down barriers, intangible and indefinable though they may be in his case where, in the instance of Jannings a decade ago, they were real and formidable. After all the screen is a great leveler of international walls, as we more strongly realize when we read of George Arliss taking away to Eng land the palm for the best actor's screen performance for 1929-30. Paramount has spent money lavishly in the making of "Playboy of Paris." One of the means it chose to disburse its budget was in the supporting cast; another was in its staging. budwig Berger directed and Henry Gerrard photographed the picture under the supervision of J. G. Bachmann. Percy Heath adapted the story of Vincent Lawrence, with Leo Robin writing the lyrics. 0. P. Hoggie as Philibert, the kitchen mechanic who shared the fortunes of Albert the waiter, proved a foil as genuine as he was amusing. Eugene Pallette made the most of the little that fell to him, which of course was anticipated when he was included in the cast. Frances Dee as Yvonne did well in a difficult part — that of making love constantly by assuring the object of her secret devotion that she hated him. The support was in keeping with what was to be expected from a cast containing so many successful players. "Playboy of Paris" may not be the best in which Chevalier has been seen in the last year and a half, but for admirers of the Frenchman it is good enough not to be overlooked. The Life of the Party FOR two weeks early in November Warner Brothers played "The Life of the Party" in tandem in its Hollywood and Downtown houses, claimed to be the first time one production simultaneously has played in two Los Angeles first run theatres. If the laughter that followed Winnie Lightner and Charles Judels on the twelfth day in the Hollywood be any criterion of the public appeal of the production there would seem to have been justifiable ground for the experiment regardless of the final re turns. Miss Lightner as Flo, the wisecracking New York woman bent on finding something softer than songplugging, is a fountain of mirth. No supersophistication on the part of those out front is necessary easily to follow her in this story by Melville Crosman adapted by Arthur Caesar. Charles Judels as Le Maire, proprietor of a palatial costume shop, shares the honors as a funmaker. Irene Delroy as Dot, the partner of Flo, charmingly supplies the youthful and the love interest. Opposite Miss Delroy is Jack Whiting, of splendid speaking voice and Lindberghian mold, most natural in manner and altogether likable. With one exception the story remains within the probabilities and clings to the comedy vein. The exception is the horse race sequence, where the action without warning plunges sharply into the field of burlesque. Roy Del Ruth directs with skill and finesse the script that was handed him. The entire subject is in Technicolor, and it may be said the color possesses that quality of which the observer out front becomes unconscious. Dev Jennings was the chief of the camera staff.