Photoplay (Oct 1917 - Mar 1918)

66 Photoplay Magazine After a rather unsatisfactory dip into comedy, Sessue Hayakawa returns to the serious drama in "The Call of the East." (Paramount.) "The Woman God Forgot" ( Artcraft) joins the list of splendid spectacles, a thing to be admired for its art, a feast for the ocular senses. Miss Young returns after many, managerial adventures, in "Magda," (Select) a version of Sudermann's drama of the same name. tas, of barbaric splendor, of sweeping movement, of towering crags and heaven-piercinp pyramids. It amazes the eye without bewildering the mind. It pleases, but it does not fascinate. It is classic, but for one who reads Homer, unwhipped by scholastic command, thousands read O. Henry. The story more than suggests that the author is familiar with Lew Wallace's "The Fair God," which, in turn, more than suggests that its author was familiar with Prescott's "Conquest of Mexico." A Spanish captain, Alvarado. is captured by the Aztecs. He escapes into the private apartments of a princess, the daughter of Montezuma, where his wounds are healed, and the two learn to love each other. He is discovered, and condemned to die upon the sacrificial altar on the day of the princess' forced wedding to an Aztec chieftain. To save him, the princess admits the Spaniards into the otherwise impregnable citadel, the general promising to depart as soon as Alvarado is rescued. The Spaniards break faith, overthrow the Aztecs, and the princess escapes to a hut in the wilderness. De Mille has conducted the story in epic spirit. He has achieved real splendor by the adoption of greatest simplicity, the absence of which made another spectacle of the month, to be commented upon later, a garish thing. He went into the Yosemite Valley for his final scenes, and brought back gorgeous records of America's great, natural cathedral. But with all this, he could not make his story live. A woman risks her life and betrays her people for love, but the heart does not beat one whit the faster. Geraldine Farrar, as the princess, is — Geraldine Farrar. She is never the savage, never the fierce woman of an untamed race. She thinks too much. In another costume, the same actions would have answered for a scheming courtesan of the court of one of the later Louises. So with Wallace Reid, as Alvarado, who, of necessity, played in the same key as his partner in the plot. But far different the Russian dancer, Kosloff, who enacted the role of the Aztec chieftain, suitor for the hand of the princess. Here is real spontaneity of action — thought and deed in perfect synchronism. Theatrical — yes. But it is a theatrical story, and Kosloff comes as near to making it live as any man could possibly do. Raymond Hatton as Montezuma is also barbaric, though it is difficult at times not to smile at the similarity of his makeup to that of Joe Weber or Ford Sterling. So "The Woman God Forgot" joins the list of splendid spectacles. It is a thing to be admired for its art, a feast for the ocular senses, a visit to a mammoth, animated museum. But through the huge lenses of this spectacle we see, more clearly than ever, the highest function of the photoplay. CLEOPATRA— Fox "Cleopatra" should have been a magnificent spectacle; the Fox picture is merely garish. Cleopatra herself was an irresistible little siren; Theda Bara is merely brazen in a ponderous manner. J. Gordon Edwards, the producer of this big film, has crowded his settings with bewildering heaps of fabrics and properties, and thereby has lost his great opportunity and wasted a large amount of money. True magnificence is simple, dignified, not a clutter of expensive decorations. The eye is impressed most strongly, not by multitudinous detail, but by vast spaces — a long vista with a collonade of pillars would express Egypt much better than all Mr. Edwards' rugs, divans, tapestries, hangings, and what not. Moreover, historically the picture is incorrect almost without a single exception. Yet there is one inspired moment which redeems the entire production. Cleopatra, returning from the defeat at Actium. believing Antony dead, is bowed with grief. Several of the scenes in this episode are classics. They might be animated paintings by Alma Tadema. Miss Bara rises to heights of tragic expression hitherto unsuspected, not by ravings and