Moving Picture World (Jul-Sep 1912)

THE MOVING PICTURE WORLD 337 amends for his injustice. He closes down the new mill forever and directs all his business to the old one. The closing scene shows a merry meeting of the villagers at the village inn, with Bontemps, Meunier, Louise and Scene from "The Miller of Burgundy" (Selig). Charles seated at a table in the foreground. The young people beam with happiness, while their elders look on with smiles of satisfaction. The release date of this film is set for July 25. OLD FACES IN A NEW FILM. "Aunty's Romance," a Delightful Subject Portrayed by Vitagraph Veterans. By G. F. Blaisdell. THE appearances of the old-time Vitagraph Girl are so rare these days that to see her is well worth a long walk. If you question this assertion, go to see Florence Turner in "Aunty's Romance." If you are an old-time picture-goer this film will have an added interest by reason of the appearance with Miss Turner of the man who for so long played opposite to her — Maurice Costello. That was in the days when the Vitagraph Company was not the great organization it is to-day — for, surely, if any evidence were needed as to the rank of this company it would be furnished in the releases of July 12 and 13. "The Foster Child" and "Aunty's Romance" are issued as ordinary, everyday affairs. There is no suggestion in the advance announcements of the company that these two possess unusual merit. Yet they are pictures in which Americans may take justifiable pride — Americans abroad perhaps even more than Americans at home. The former will feel that in black and white the home product equals in all cases and in most is superior to the Continental output. "Aunty's Romance" opens in Paris. Stephen Fisk, Jr., (Costello) receives a message telling of the death of his father in New York and requesting his immediate return. On his arrival here his lawyer (William Shea) tells him his father died bankrupt. Just prior to this business call he had visited Doris, his sweetheart (Miss Turner). She had gone tripping to meet him, blithe, light-hearted and charming. Stephen calls again upon Doris after seeing his lawyer. The two are sitting by the fireplace. He tells her of his financial condition. Doris' manner changes; she is frigidly thoughtful. She tells him she will not marry him until he has made a success in business. She returns to him the engagement ring. Stephen freezes; contemptuously he throws the ring in the fire. Doris shudders. Stephen leaves the house. Doris leans on the arm of her chair and sobs. The temporary exterior of iciness has melted. She is again a woman. Aunty comes into the room. Mrs. Maurice was never more sweet and motherly than in this scene. Tenderly she tells Doris that money is not all in life; that to live without the love of the one who is prized above all others is to live less than a full life. Aunty tells how in her early days she had loved Stephen's father, but it had come to naught; she had never had her honeymoon. When Stephen had left Doris he was in evening dress. We now see him "in the ranks." He is leaving a factory with the other workers. His dinner pail is on his arm. He wears a soft shirt, open at the throat. As he passes the home of Doris he sees Aunty, unconscious, on the great granite stoop. She had just left her old-fashioned rig and had fainted. Stephen carries Aunty into the house and lays her on her bed. Doris conies in and asks him to telephone for the family physician. It is Harry Morey who responds. The doctor shakes his head. The end is near. He brings Stephen into the room. Aunty reaches out her arm-, to him. He kneels by the bed and puts his arms about her. She tells him of her old love for his father, and in his face sees again her one sweetheart. We see the visions that pass before her — the days of her youth, garbed in the great skirt of Civil War times; of a marriage ceremony — a ceremony that never took place, but should have; of two lovers in the twilight, their faces close together, outlined against a mass of cloud. She tells Stephen of her wish that he and Doris marry. Doris is standing by the bed. Beside her is the doctor. His hand is on her shoulder. Not now is he the family physician; he is the friend, the comforter. Aunty's arms drop. The doctor leans over; he nods his head. Stephen throws himself across the body of his lifelong friend. Doris kneels beside him. Her hand seeks his and rests on it. A moment later the two rise to their feet. They embrace — she in her dainty house-gown, he in his rough garb. Aunty's wish is to be fulfilled. If the highest expression of dramatic art lie in the creation of the perfect illusion it will be conceded by those who see this film that Maurice Costello in his direction of "Aunty's Romance" has approximated it. W. Hanson Durham is the author. It might be said that a man of education and refinement, reared in luxury, with expectations of coming into a fortune, would not be compelled to seek such humble employment as Stephen accepted. The fact remains that in everyday life it has been done. It would be unfair to all the principals in this photoplay to specially mention any one. Miss Turner, Mrs. Maurice and Messrs. Costello and Morey and even Shea in the few moments he was on the screen were all that good actors should be; it was splendid teamwork. Perhaps an exception may be made of Harry Morey. His role of the family physician was in a measure a minor one, but his work will appeal to many as being an interpretation of the ideal doctor — the friend in health, in sickness and in bereavement. It will recall his splendid characterization of the surgeon in "The Light That Failed." MISS ROSE FIRESTONE. Until recently Miss Firestone was appearing as an American photoplayer, meeting with much favor on account of her ability and strong personality in the slient drama. Miss Firestone is now in Europe and while there will appear in Eclair productions.