The Moving picture world (November 1922-December 1922)

iZof tore to jSanta Qlaue he Magnates Were All Too "Busv to Write Their Otvn J^otes, So We Had the Job Done, With All "Due Apologies, "By a Mere Member of the World Staff Dear Santa : I'm not much at asking for favors, Santa — I usually go after what 1 want — but if you have to be a good fellow you might send me a couple more sons who will develop like David and Myron. I suppose you heard about "One Week of Love," and all the boosts those wise-cracking film men are giving Myron who supervised that knockout in its entirety? And you must have read that letter Rupert Hughes wrote him? He knows what he's talking about — that fellow Hughes. Folks have called me "crazy" lots of time in this business and I've gone right ahead and "shown them." Well, the biggest things I've shown them are David and Myron. Things are going so smoothly right now, Santa, that I got my fingers crossed and that makes it pretty hard to write you a letter. Besides, with David and Myron to make the pictures and Jack Woody to sell them I don't see much use for a Santa Claus anyway. Dear Santa : I don't know just how you can make this Xmas any merrier that it is just naturally going to be, or 1923 any happier a year than 1922 has been for Universal. Why, didn't the editor of The World even go out of his way a few weeks ago in an editorial to register his admiration at the sustained level of quality Universal has maintained this year? About the only thing I can think of that would make 1923 any more complete than 1922 would be a good fight. Gosh, it has been years since I had a regular two-fisted fight — something that I could really scorch and sizzle about in those "Straight from the Shoulder" talks. If you don't provide me with any better subject for argument I'll have to present my own by exposing those bunk Broadway showings and nearfirst-runs. I can tackle that now without having them say I'm jealous — my pictures lick that argument this year, don't they? Dear Santa : Send me another Jimmy Grainger. That would be enough for any good film company to get for Xmas — and I'm no hog. So 1 won't ask for anything else. .\ny other Xmas 1 might huve asked you for a few good pictures, but if you've been reading my ads and the Associated Press stuff Dietz and Bonns put over you know that this year I'm going to be there with all the good pictures I need. Wouldn't I have an awful nerve to ask for pictures when I have such whales as "The Stranger's Banquet," "The Christian " and "Ben Hur" coming along? Still, if you insist, and really must give me something else you might drop Valentino in my Holeproof to star in "Ben Hur." And please, Santa, PLEASE don't drop Sammy Goldwyn in my stocking. Give Sammy a nice little company of his own to play with. He's a good boy but we have more fun playing in our F. J. GODSOL. Dear Santa : I have a hunch that it was Santa Claus that sent Louis B. Mayer to me a few months ago with Fred Niblu and Reginald Barker, so I don't suppose I can count on you to pay me another visit because it's Christmas. But I'm going to hang my stocking up, anyway. I always hope for the best. And they say I'm a pretty lucky boy. Maybe you'll slip me another "Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse." But don't start another war just to give me a pig picture, Santa, I don': as kthat much. If you want to be real good and crown a few years good work with glory maybe you can convince that partner of mine, Nick Schenck, that the Talmadge girls and Buster Keaton wouldn't look bad under the Metro banner. In a year or so, huh? MARCUS LOEW.