The international photographer (Jan-Dec 1936)

Thirty -two The INTERNATIONAL PHOTOGRAPHER July, 1036 CINEMACRONI (With Sauce for Those Who Like It) By Robert Tobey HOLLYWOOD HONEYMOON or The Loves of Lili Liverblossom By R. THRITIS Lili Liverblossom, beautiful star of Flamboyant Films, Ltd. Perriwether Murgle, her Public Relations Counsel. Olga Bendova, her rival. Willy Nilly, a large Bald Eagle; genus haliaetus leucocephalus, in case you're the technical type. Nelly Nilly, his wife. Hiram von Willeze, a noted film director sliding down the balustrade of fame. Bill, a ghost writer. Potty, a ghost. Synopsis of preceding chapters: Lovely Lili Liverblossom is afraid Olga Bendova will get the part she covets in Flamboyant Film Company's new super-epic, "Sacred and (censored) Love." She calls Murgle into conference, which is about the least she ever calls him. Perri suggests a marriage to Hiram von Willeze as a publicity stunt to reawaken interest in Lili and cinch the coveted part for her. In his hurry get to von Willeze, Perri slides down the drainpipe outside Lili's penthouse apartment, instead of taking the elevator. He gets caught part way down, and enlists the aid of Willy Nilly to help him to the ground. Instead, the Eagle carries Willy off to his lair on a high cliff miles from Hollywood and the cut-rate drug stores. Frantic at the loss of her P. A., Lili figures out that a ghost might be able ot help her track down the Eagle and rescue Perri. So she enlists the aid of an old friend, a ghost writer named Bill. Bill writes her up a ghost and sends it over to Lili's apartment. The ghost arrives in jig time; a real honest-to-gosh ghost that can pass through walls and can't get along without a chain to clank. Lili, with her usual breezy informality, dubs the fellow Potty. After a brief chat, the two set off in search of Perriwether Murgle. Meanwhile, in the Eagle's lair, Willy Nilly has gone off in search of some fish and snakes for dinner. Nelly Willy sidles over to 'where Perri is sitting, and looks coyly up at him. Perri hardly knows what to expect. Just in the nick of time Potty and Lili arrive on the scene to breake up the tenseness of the situation. Soon Willy arrives with some grub, mostly dried fish he has stolen from some fishermen on a nearby Dry Lake. He and Nelly go into the kitchen to get dinner ready, so Perri seizes the opportunity to attempt an escape. He has some trouble getting Lili off a couple of eagle eggs, which Lili has promised to sit on while Nelly is busy. Finally, they are ready to escape. Potty picks up Lili and in no time is out of sight. Perri, thinking he can still fly, flaps his arms and jumps, but falls, and only barely manages to catch hold of a piece of rock twenty feet below. And there he hangs. Now we go on with the story. CHAPTER XXI Heigh-ho. Isn't that disconcerting. Here I've used up all the space for a synopsis. Guess Perri will have to hang from that cliff for another month! Tough going, kiddo. KNEECAP REVIEWS (No space left on my thumbnails) -THE UNGUARDED HOUR." A really enthralling murder mystery; one that will grip you in every minute of its running. Truly mystifying to the end. it is well-written, thoughtfully produced, and excellently directed. Loretta Young and Franchot Tone are the young married couple around whom this unusual story revolves. Tone, playing a young English barrister with one eye on his wife and the other on the Attorney-General's seat, is a polished though restrained performer. Loretta Young as his lovely wife, will lose none of her following. Just as well for them, too, that they arc so good, or Roland Young would steal the picture. The fate of a picture like this trembles before the director, so the excellence of this film speaks well for Sam Wood. Photography by James Van Trees is above reproach. "FURY." A searching analysis of mob psychology; a relentless flaying of the urge to lynch. Director Fritz has employed his camera as a scourge to lay bare the rotten tissue around the heart of the screaming pack that is a mob. The picture itself cannot be described except in full book form, and derives its chief power from its dramatic intensity and the basic nature of its emotional pull. Spencer Tracy carries away top acting honors, while Sylvia Sidney does well with a part that offers nothing compared -with what Spencer has to work with. Photography is by Joseph Ruttenberg. "THE MOON'S OUR HOME." Madness envelopes Margaret Sullavan and Henry Fonda, and you'll love 'em half-baked. Maggie has done nothing better than this madcap role of Cherry Chester, beautiful screen star who believes the publicity about herself. Henry onda as Anthony Amberton, spoiled novelist, complements her splendidly, although he is not quite up to his high water mark in this. Old-time director William A. Seiter is far from old-time in his treatment of the script. Photography by Joseph Valentine is topnotch. In the supporting cast, Charles Butterworth is much too overdrawn to be funny in the stock role of the rejected though wealthy suitor. Margaret Hamilton has a noteworthy supporting role. "THE FIRST BABY," an average homey sort of picture with Johnny Downs, Dixie Dunbar, Shirley Deane, Marjorie Gateson and Jane Darwell. Not startling in any respect, the film is more or less devoted to the mother-in-law problem, and is interestingly and intelligently treated. Downs, Dunbar and Deane start the ball rolling in a more or less amateur fashion, but as soon as veterans Marjorie Gateson and Jane Darwell come into the picture the thing rolls along under its own power. Direction is by Lew Seiler and photography by Barney McGill. Worth going to see even if you have to pay for a couple of dull features and play hookey on 'em is Walt Disney's Mickey Mouse in "THROUGH THE MIRROR." There is a sequence using animated playing cards, hilariously burlesquing the outlandish dance sequences in some of our "better" productions, that is a gem in itself. "THE DANCING PIRATE." Very little to recommend this. It is slow and draggy, of uneven tempo, with interminable climax and anti-climax. The use of color throughout adds nothing to the spectacle except changes in color ratio, an error you don't encounter in black-and-white. Distressingly, too, this picture seems to mark the return to the indiscriminate use of bicolor capes as an irritating prod to color consciousness. Charles Collins is not the Fred Astaire whom he seems to be imitating. He is nimble and graceful enough as a dancer, but hasn't the Astaire nonchalance and personality. Kept on the screen long enough, of course, he may lose his self-consciousness and go places. Frank Morgan plays his usual incoherent role, and drives you a little cuckoo -with it all. The only moments of relief are when the piquant Steffi Duna appears on the scene. The girl is no beauty, but has the saucy charm and graceful abandon of a dryad. What beauty she has is not enhanced by the adobe makeup plastered on her face and torso in an attempt to make her look Spanish. Next best mention goes to Victor Varconi and Jack LaRue, as the very doughy heavies. Production is by Jock Whitney, direction by Lloyd Corrigan, story by Emma Lindsay Squire, cameras by Technicolor, photography by William Skall, and release is via R.K.O. You figure out who is to blame. "LITTLE MISS NOBODY." Herein Jane Withers definitely becomes a little Miss Somebody. It's Jane's picture and nobody takes it away from her. Her work in this would do credit to far weightier years. However, detracting from the value of the picture is the fact that it is patterned so closely after a recent Shirley Temple opus. Supporting cast is well chosen. Little Betty Jean Hainey is almost as good as Jane Withers, if less impish. Harry Carey has a fine fat role, and does well with it. Direction by John Blystone is good. Bert Glennon photographed. "SAN FRANCISCO," a picture proving that no matter what type of music beautiful Jeannettc MacDonald chooses to sing with that glorious voice of hers, the public will love it; and no matter how much blood is caked on Clark Gable's face, that ole Gable personality shines forth just the same. The film also proves that M-G-M's technical staff can cook up an earthquake that is just about as realistic and horrifying as any of old Mother Nature's brewing. Production should do a box-office cleanup. It has everything tne doctor orderea — thrills, chills, laughs, suspense, and a hearty love interest — and all arc expertly blended by veteran megger W. S. I' an Dyke. Oliver Marsh is responsible for the first-rate photography. The picking of tough mug Spencer Tracy for the role of Father Mullen was a quaint piece of casting. Can you imagine that hombre in clerical garb? But don't get hysterical before you see him in the part. He's the tops. Jack Holt, Ted Healy, Margaret Irving, and Jessie Ralph shine from out the supporting cast. Seen on a local marquee'. MR. DEEDS GOES TO TOWN EVERY SATURDAY NITE And this from a studio daily shooting report: THERE GOES THE BRIDE (two days ahead of schedule) HOLLYWOODCUTS, by the Shovel Boys. (They dish the dirt.) * * * The good news comes from New York that Edwina Booth, who seven years ago played the White Goddess in M-G-M's production of "Trader Horn" is at last recovering from what 'was considered an incurable illness. Stricken shortly after her return from Africa with the location unit making "Trader Horn," for six years the girl hovered between life and death. She traveled the world in search of a cure for the little known malady that had attacked her. Her father, himself a physician, gave up his practise to devote his life to study and research in aid of his daughter. No hope was held out for Edwina's recovery. The last few years she has spent in bed, in a darkened room, emaciated, ■waiting to die. Now comes -word that in the New York psychiatric clinic Dr. Edward S. Cowles, Edwina Booth is able to walk and stand the sunlight again on her once lovely body. A complete cure is looked for by the girl and her family.* Out of Circulation Notice. Fred McMurray married Lillian LaMont, reported to the studio just to make sure there -weren't any retakes in the offing for his latest picture, and then sailed with his bride on the Lurline for a long honeymoon in Honolulu. Fred's courtship has been troublous, for Paramount, when they began to push Fred ahead, tried to keep him unmarried. He fussed and fumed for three years, and then couldn't stand it any longer. Here's a rib-tickler. Mae West, Queen of Upholstery and first lady of the Risque, proposes to defend her reputation at all costs. Many's the check she has quietly made out in favor of the Assistance League, a prominent Hollyood charitable organization. And she has told the League that they can have a contribution from her any time they ask for it. But the other day she balked hen she was asked to appear in person at the League on behalf of charity. She said she couldn't let reporters and the public actually see her in the role of a good woman. She was afraid it would spoil her standing! * * * Don't look now. Miss Sugarpuss, but there's a fellow stealing your scene.