Motion Picture News (Nov-Dec 1922)

December 30, 1 9 2 2 334 7 The Year’s Best Pictures— And Why By LAURENCE REID Douglas Fairbanks in “ Robin Hood,” “ Orphans of the Storm,” and . “ When Knighthood Was in Flower.” And the greatest of these — . But why stop with these spectacular achievements in a resume of the year’s best pictures — — when any resume must, in all fairness, include a goodly dozen? Walter Camp has presented his daily dozen, which if practised faithfully throughout the year would find us each day, in every way, getting better and better. There is no doubt about our yearly dozen giving us real setting up exercises. Mind you, there is no physical exertion attached to the scheme. We unconsciously sit up in our seats and pay the strictest attention — and that’s all there is to it. But where Walter Camp is unable to help you financially we are able to offer you something in the shape of a rich gold mine, if you accept our yearly dozen. Anyone who follows the photoplay at all must admit that it is getting better and better — and this is said in spite of the fact that censorship would make cowards of all screen authors and directors. Rex Ingram has come out on record — and Stroheim has agreed with him — that the screen cannot progress if one must continually make pictures for the childish mind. It is true that the conventions are obeyed too faithfully — that an imaginative director with revolutionary ideas is hampered from the start because of the hue and cry — “What of the children?” Certainly Shakespeare when he conceived “ Othello,” “ Hamlet,” and other tragedies wasn’t thinking of the nursery. So if we intend to make any real advancement in story and plot we must forget the conventions in general and the cradle in particular. It is doubtful if the screen can progress further in a technical way. Photography and lighting have become wellnigh perfect. But the ideas with few exceptions have remained unchanged for the past decade. Program pictures are released with familiar formulas. They are made entirely from a commercial viewpoint. Which brings up the argument — and argument with no cause for dispute — that the finest photoplays are produced by those artists who are not guided by schedule contracts — :who are more or less on their own, presenting their own ideas — who will succeed or fail on their efforts. The time is theirs to accomplish something really worth while. And theirs is a different public — a public eager to see and learn — a public comprising sincere wellwishers of the silent drama. Where would Griffith or Ingram be if they worked on schedule? Or Chaplin or Fairbanks or Lloyd or Mary Pickford or Norma Talmadge? They have taken the time to search for new ideas — and then have taken more time to present them. These artists and several others are carrying the torches which are taking the screen out of darkness. Here we are crying in the wilderness for REAL DEVELOPMENT in our photoplays. If all our cheap program pictures could assemble and walk off the sets like the rats which followed the Pied Piper — if they only could follow our screen Pied Pipers, Griffith and Ingram and a few other leaders, whose music is not inspired through a magic flute but through a magic megaphone — the photoplay would reach that artistic plane where even the scoffers could not indict it. Then we pause, for the public must have entertainment. And picture houses are here, there and everywhere — the producer is in business to make money, and so is the middleman. And the spectator pays and pays. But he’ll pay more and be glad of it when something extraordinary comes along — something like “The Four Horsemen,” for example. The year’s best — the goodly dozen — includes pictures which have not been produced for the program. Rather have they been produced to enrich the screen — to win new disciples— to show that artistic values and comercial values can be related. Each year finds its outstanding product. 1920 gave us “ Humoresque,” “ The Mark of Zorro,” and “ Way Down East.” Last year we had “ Torable David,” “ The Kid,” and “ The Three Musketeers.” 1922 makes film history because of some notably fine productions. It surpasses the years of yesterday with the general all-around excellence of its product. Pictures have been created through real labor and genuine enthusiasm. It isn’t remarkable that Douglas Fairbanks is represented again when we follow his determination to eclipse his preceding effort. We anticipate no argument that “ Douglas Fairbanks in Robin Hood ” will be accepted as the finest canvas of the year. Its opulence of background, its story interest, the richness of its pageantry, its accumulative suspense, its picturesque characterization — these qualities and many more entitle it to a firm and secure place at the top. The other eleven pictures are not presented in the order of their excellence; they have merely been shuffled like the cards in a deck. Won’t you agree with us that they represent the highest attainments in the art of photoplay? All have movement, color, picturesqueness, romance, clearly defined characterizations and plots, and background. All of them are competently played and some are more than competently played. We take great pleasure in presenting: “Grandma’s Boy” (Associated Exhibi tors), “ Tess of the Storm Country” (United Artists), “When Knighthood Was In Flower” (Cosmopolitan-Paramount), “Peg O’ My Heart” (Metro), “ Orphans of the Storm ” (Griffith-United Artists), “Blood and Sand” (Paramount), “The Storm” (Universal), “The Prisoner of Zenda ” (Metro), “ Smilin’ Through” (First National), “The Sin Flood” (Goldwyn), and “ Nanook of the North” (Pathe). There is appeal here for everyone. Variety is well emphasized in the list even though the spectacular note is dominant in “ Orphans of the Storm,” “Douglas Fairbanks in Robin Hood,” and “ When Knighthood Was In Flower.” It also carries spiritual qualities in “ Smilin’ through, and “ The Sin Flood,” and it has a definite place in “ Tess of the Storm Country,” although that opus is mostly a heart-tug of homespun humanity. What of the humor? Harold Lloyd attends to that — with an individuality and talent, expressive and inimitable. ” Grandma's Boy ” is a delightful picture. f or sheer novelty of background and characterization— for stark realism showing the primeval instinct, the will to live, we have “Nanook of the North,” a work founded upon a labor of love and enthusiasm. “ Peg O’ My Heart ” is blessed with rich human interest and also is flavored with quaint humor and romance. Take notice of Laurette Taylor’s superb pantomime in her justly famous role of Peg. She makes her screen debut and comes forth one of its most gifted artists. Certainly no other actress we might name could possible achieve the depth of understanding which is indicated here. For sheer charm of caprice and whimsicality her Peg will endure down through the corridors of time. Fairbanks’ vital energy is as dominant as ever in his role of the gay, but chivalrous bandit, Robin Hood. It is a tireless endeavor to humanize the picturesque robber of a day when knights were bold. Mary Pickford demonstrates again why she has a firm place in the hearts of the public through her ineffable charm and talent. She is human and lovable as Tess, the role which took her on the high road to fame and which she treasured so much that she humanized it for a second edition. In “ Orphans of the Storm,” Lillian Gish tugs at the emotions with her eloquent hands and her truly expressive face. She transports the spectator with her mute suffering as a storm-tossed flower of the French Revolution. James Kirkwood is always dependable— an actor thoroughly grounded in his art. So is House Peters. The former enriches the spiritual quality in “ The Sin Flood,” and the latter’s performance in “ The Storm ” approaches a (Continued on page 3359 )