The international photographer (Jan-Dec 1932)

September, 1932 The INTERNATIONAL PHOTOGRAPHER Thirty-three acter players — David Landau, Berton Churchill, Dorothy Peterson, Russell Simpson, Tully Marshall, Henry B. Walthall, Edmund Breese, and Clarence Muse. The picture will hold its own with the Barthelmess series. Ediv. Cronjager HELLS HIGHWAY First cameraman, Edward Cronjager ; operative camerman, Harry Wild ; assistants, Harold Wellman, James Daly ; stills, Fred Hendriekson ; sound, John Tribby. HERE is a tale of man's inhumanity to man as old as so-called civilization itself. RKO-Radio's "Hell's Highway" shows the unimportance of man's ordinary or major comforts, even the cheapness of his life, when he is utterly and abjectly subject to the meanest form of slave driving that combined greed and authority may inspire. In spite of the many instances in which the drab nature of the tale has been minimized and softened by touches of comedy— to the credit of the production staff let it be said these were not dragged in by the heels — the subject remains what evidently it was designed to be: A story of today, a story of governmental shame, of major evils in prison camps the shocking details of which apparently have undergone no diminution in the last generation. The makers of the story, Sam Ornitz, Robert Tasker and Rowland Brown, have taken a leaf out of the recent black book of Florida. They have incorporated in it the strangling of one of the prisoners in a sweatbox, identical with the actual case recently detailed at length in the newspapers of the world. It is likely this picture and others of its kind to follow will find no cordial greeting among the politicians of those few states where such practices still survive. It is not likely the circulation and showing of these subjects will result in any reformation of the practices exposed. At least it seems to have had no effect a decade or two ago when parallel killings in the same state, if we mistake not, came to the surface and served as the basis for motion picture scorings. Rowland Brown finely directs this stern story that features Richard Dix. Incidentally it is a man's tale all the way. But two women appear in the course of the entire length, and then only for a short sequence showing the mother of the two men and the sweetheart of the younger visiting them in camp. The visit is dramatic. Dix is shown as a four-time offender, a leader among his mates, one who can take as well as give a beating. Duke Ellis is a likable and a human character, one who it easily may be believed would go to his death in front of a machine gun rather than await the slow process of hanging. Tom Brown as Johnny Ellis, younger brother of the old offender, gives a creditable performance. Charles Middleton as the fake seer stands out. So, too, does Louise Carter as the mother of the boys in her brief moment. The picture, tight with suspense, is worth seeing by every man and woman who admits interest in what goes on in the world at large. The entertainment side of the dramatragedy is enhanced by the chorus singing under the direction of Max Steiner. John Seitz A PASSPORT TO HELL First cameraman, John Seitz ; operative cameraman, Arthur Arling ; assistants, Bud Mautino, Luis Molina ; stills, Ray Nolan ; sound, A. L. Von Kirbach. GRIPPING throughout its length is Fox's "A Passport to Hell," from the story by Harry Hervey as adapted by Bradley King and Leon Gordon. Frank Lloyd has taken this tale that in its inception seems just another one of those things, an impression that for a few hundred feet struggles to remain within the consciousness of the old-timer and then surrenders without further recurrence to the spell of the story. Elissa Landi is Myra, a young English woman of family who following mention in a scandal in her home country travels from one African colony to another. It hardly can be said the breaks ride with her. So far as the tale reveals her moments of happiness are not many. Yet her interest in life is heightened by the possibility that always the solution of her difficulties may be just around the corner. The picture ends just that way — with her own little world again turned upside down and she starts out to begin another day or maybe it will be a week or yet life with such male person as fortune may throw in her path. In spite of the drab nature of her part Miss Landi shows us a fascinating personality, one to which men yield impulsively. Really the spectator looks upon this character with its admitted promiscuity as one that at any turn in the road will straighten out from within and "from then on." The work of the actress is well done. Warner Oland is the German colonial military police commander,, one of the Javert tvne, which after all is the same as saying he was what he was, a real Prussian. The part in his hands is one of impressiveness and power, intensely human in spite of the bureaucratic background. Paul Lukas is the third corner of the triangle, a part to which he has become quite well accustomed. Alexander Kirkland is the son of the military commander who loses his head as well as his heart over Myra — an unpleasant role — and Donald Crisp is the English spy who is captured by the Germans as a result of Myra refusing to betray her adopted country. GUILTY AS HELL First cameraman, Karl Struss ; operative cameraman, George Clemens ; assistant, Fleet Southcott ; stills, Bert Longworth ; sound, Harold C. Lewis. PRESUMABLY the title of Fox's film of "Guilty as Hell" is aimed at the character Dr. Ernest Tindall, played by Harry Stephenson, but one way and another it would seem to be in order for the producer to assume his share of the ignominy that attaches to the crime. Inasm""h as the offenses consist of two murders and a suicide — a fourth crime, the hanging of an innocent man framed by the murderer, being avoided by a hah: — it is plain the producer has something for which to be responsible. Karl Struss The first murder is of a wife strangled to death by her husband. The second is of the murder by the doctor-husband of a wounded accomplice, and the suicide is his own. It may be claimed in extenuation that the doctor did not "carry on" in any manner as he passed out. It will be agreed by all women who remain to see the end of the show that the doctor passed seemingly into a sweet sleep, whatever that may be. The negative entertainment qualities of the subject were enhanced by the ghoulish buffoonery indulged in by Russell Kirk, a reporter played by Edmund Lowe, as he engaged in airy persiflage with Captain McKinley, interpreted by Victor McLaughlen. There is no acceptable substitute for good taste, which incidentally must come from the top of the studio ladder. Here it is assumed to be funny or something worth noting in any event when the reporter steps back and forth over the still warm body of a strangled woman as it awaits arrival of the coroner, the while the reporter to the self-widowed murderer hazards guesses as to the particular manner in which the murdered woman might have been unfaithful to him. An example of the absence of editorial judgment may be found in the remark of the reporter Kirk following the failure of an indignant woman to slay the detective when he says, in effect, "They came pretty near killing the wrong McKinley." The same reporter at the finish in one of his frank and acrimonious chats with his detective friend sits in the lap of the suicide who has just breathed his last and bats out a few wise ones for good measure. If the foregoing sound to the reader like good entertainment by all