The Moving Picture Weekly (1916-1917)

12 THE MOVING PICTURE WEEKLY ^'The Bugler of Algiers/' Patriotism Text Book lULCE est pro patria mori" might be written as the motto of the Bluebird photoplay ''The Bugler of Algiers," a screen version of the novel, called "We Are French," which was written by Perley Poore Sheehan and Robert I H. Davis, the editor of Munsey's Magazine. The film is more than an ordinary photoplay, and was written for more than the purpose of entertainment, however praiseworthy such a purpose may be in itself. This picture is more than an ephemeral story. It has a touch of the indestructible, intangible something which, for want of a better term, we call a spark of inspiration. The original story had this. That is why Sir Gilbert Parker wrote in his preface to the edition in book form, "After reading it I feel as if I had been sojourning in a wild orchard where small sweet fruit grow. Gabrielle in her cottage. plentiful and ruddy and good. . . . Also there is a note of patriotism in it which sings on every page." It is this note of patriotism which sings even more clearly from the screen, sounding so loudly in the mental ear that it overcomes all other impressions from the picture. The fact that the scene of the story is laid in the France of 1870 does nothing to localize the call which the picture makes to universal love of country. The underlying spirit of the story is one of the deepest and finest instincts of the whole human race, and it is belittling the message of the picture to confine its essence even to France, which belligerent and neutral alike join in honoring for the proved quality of her patriotism. No partisan enthusiasm, no "taking sides" with the European nations at present engaged in terrific conflict need mar one's enjoyment of a picture like this. It is true that an incident or two from the Franco-Prussian war is introduced into the story for the purpose of showing the inevitable separation of Gabrielle from her people; but an interval of nearly fifty years inter#venes between these scenes and the present time. The story is a sort of general text-book of patriotism, of the generous enthusiasm which fires the greatest hero of them all, the man who gives himself unreservedly to his ideal — his country. The authors have said that they wish the inspiration of the Marseillaise — acknowledged the finest patriotic hymn in the world — to hover over the whole picture, not because it is French, but because it expresses the supreme devotion of a people to their cause. The inspiration of the story has been felt by the men who, while in America we are preparing to celebrate our great festival of Thanksgiving for peace and for the fruits of the earth, are dying by thousands in answer to their country's call. Numberless copies of the book have found their way to England, and from thence to the soldiers in the trenches. The French heard of this story, which was setting their allies on fire. General Joffre himself heard of it, and ordered a translation made that it might be read aloud to him. Then copies of the French edition were distributed to the men, and now the Tommy reads it in one trench, while the Poilu studies it in another. Contrary to the views of the ancients on the subject, love of country is not a strictly masculine virtue. We cannot call to mind the names of as many women patriots, but this is because their roles, while no less heroic, have been less conspicuous. Patriotism is a dual principal, active and passive. No one who has ever been forced to wait in agonizing inactivity through a crisis will deny that the passive role demands heroism of as high a type as the active. Perhaps even higher. The two kinds of patriotism are wonderfully typified by the brother and sister, Anatole Picard and Gabrielle, in the photoplay. Anatole had the great moment, the decisive action, but Gabrielle had years of patient, lonely waiting to pay for her cheerful sacrifice of all her little world, to France. Little Ella Hall is growing up rapidly and a cold fear seizes those of us who love her in such roles as "Jewel" and "The Love Girl," lest the time may be coming when she wull no longer be physically qualified to play these parts. An actress can make herself look older than she is by the skillful application of makeup and the use of her intelligence and faculty of observation, but she can't make herself look so very much younger, not at least, on the all-revealing screen. Ella Hall proves her possession of skill, intelligence and observation in superlative terms, in her assumption of this role, in which she first appears as a peasant girl in her teens, and later as an old woman of nearly seventy years. She relies more on the two latter than