Motion Picture Classic (1923, 1924, 1926)

Pertinent and Impertinent Screen Comment I F Rodolph, or Rudolph, or possibly Randolph by now, Valentino is the most talked about Film Fiirst these days, Wallace Beery is certainly the most seen about. Probably if all the recent footage taken of Wallace Beery was connected in one long roll, it would reach from Xew York to Hollywood three times and there would still be enough left to make up nifty sport belts for Hope Hampton, Nita Naldi and Barbara La Marr. Or putting it another way, it would be only about two miles shorter than a picture directed by Eric von Stroheim, the man who loves to hate himself. There has been considerable pro and a whole lot of con about how funny a fat man really is, and we have consistently stood up and cheered with the contraryminded. Nevertheless, it is our public opinion that if Walter Hiers could take over the Bawby Ephalunt stories of Holworthy Hall which are running in the Saturday Evening Post he would bust the movie rhinoceros-hide, as we sport writers say, for a circuit clout. The plots of the stories are not only highly ingenious and diverting, but the dialog is priceless. The material is, Lafayette, certainly there, and if Hiers' talents can stand the strain, and if Hall can keep them to stick to the text for the titles, another one of these new epochs — or is it epics — in the shining history of cinematography will have dawned. As usual, we've broken the ice. And who's going to produce the hair-liniment? > •fr + + While we are on the subject, Tommie Mundin, of Chariot's Revue, says he wants to do a movie, or a series of shorts built around "Jarge," the rural lout, or oaf, who has made such a hit in the revue. In this case, all that is needed is someone intelligent enough to write him a script, and somebody else intelligent enough to direct it, and somebody else intelligent enough — but here ! here ! we're getting idealistic. K* Decoration Thru the Courtesy of Hal Roach Studios Posed by Beth Darlington and Billie Beck There is, we frequently notice, a touch of Socrates. Christ, Mohammed and St. Joan of Arc in our attitude toward the movies. Try as hard as we can, and that isn't so very hard, we cannot refrain from announcing — in a pleasant, conversational tone, to be sure, just what is wrong with the movie under inspection. And invariably the five rows in front of us, and the five rows in back of us grow very, very peeved — altho it's really all in their interest. Eventually if we are not burned over a rotisserie grill, we expect we shall be dragged forth by a howling mob of movie fans and made to drink a Nedick orange drink. Hh + + Speaking of Socrates, in his preface to "St. Joan," Shaw says, "he had no suspicion of the extent to which his mental superiority had roused fear and hatred against him in the hearts of men towards whom he was conscious of nothing but good will and good service." Ah, that's the idea, exactly! Milton Sills, it is rumored, will play the title-role in "The Life of Christ." We understand perfectly what faction is back of this subtle propaganda and we intend writing a letter to Henry Ford. "T* T" "T* Is Marriage Marriage? (Twenty-ninth Instalment) Note: The preceding instalments were mysteriously stolen from the back seat of an aquaplane while the author was crossing the Andes on roller skates. But dont let that worry you. Essmore Dismal, our hero, after various adventures is finally driven by the friendly realtor to the shores of beautiful Lake Apopka. Here he leaves him, rather suddenly. Essmore, enchanted by the scenery, is wandering thru an orange grove when a grapefruit drops from a tree on his head and knocks him unconscious. When he comes to, he finds his head in the lap of Guava Golightly, the girl he has come to Florida to seek. Insert : Fate plays many strange tricks when Cupid winds the dice. "Where am I?" asks Essmore, just as if the realtor hadn't been telling him about the natural beauties of citrus-growing Florida for five hundred and (Contini4ed on page 93) ^ M (Fifty)