Photoplay (Jan 1921)

Photoplay Magazine Medals for the Year By JAMES R. QUIRK Editor of Photoplay Devil's Pass-Key" is a miracle of detail — in fact, we think it challenges, in its mosaic perfections, any photoplay ever made. But there were other wonderfully enjoyable things. Ince. for instance, offered two. wholly dissimilar; the tragic and powerful "Behind the Door." and the inimitably droll "TwentyThree and a Half Hours' Leave." There was King Vidor's "Jack-Knife Man." an unmatchable whimsicality. Or Vitagraph's "Trumpet Island," and its re-creation of "Dollars and the Woman." with Alice Joyce. Paramount-Artcraft's real super-pictures ranged from the great "Jekyll-Hyde" of John Barrymore, and "The Copperhead" played by his brother Lionel, to the Fitzmaurice-Murray "On With the Dance" — a piece showy and elegant despite its theatrical insincerity. Goldwyn vouchsafed the Will Rogers pictures, and such things as the audacious oddity "Scratch My Back." by Rupert Hughes. i.n the one hand, and the elemental "Madame X." and that daring psychic excursion. "Earthbound." on the other. Fox. frankly busy with mere program provender, still found time to p R/?cf issue such a novelty as the tril r OUT DCSl ogy "While New York Sleeps," with its mediocre beginning, itmaudlin middle — and its terrific and breath-taking finale. And there were Tourneur's "Victory." and "Suds." via Mary Pickford. and "The Mollycoddle,'' from Mary Fairbanks' husband, and "Eyes of Youth." a magnificent photoplay from Clara Kimball Young: Universal's Harry Carey pictures; several worthwhiles by that Talmadge named Constance; Harold Lloyd's pictures: the Pathe serials; Roscoe Arbuckle's "The Garage," and his five-reeler. "The Round-Up"; Marshall Neilan's pictures, anil a few of Anita Stewart's. Special mention must be made of "The Scoffer." and "Luck o' the Irish," directed by Allan Dwan. and in which the veteran Jim Kirkwood stage what is perhaps the most marvelously complete comeback in photoplay history. "CCREEN excellence has gone beyond ^ the director's control even though these hard-working individuals still consider themselves the beginning and end of every photoplay worth while. Opportunity and progress lie in the hands of the producing masters who recognize the worth of individual effort by author, director, players and corporation combined." "Why Change Your Wife is a glittering exaggeration of the ornate and voluptuous day in which we live. A MONG the actors we find. **■ this year, one thoroughly deserved, thoroughly gratifying arrival at stardom: Thomas Meighan. He is a star absolutely made by that surest of all star-judgers. the public. The public followed him faithfully through longer years of apprenticeship than any other male luminary ever had, and when his elevation to the firmament came it was accomplished without jar to the subject, and without the infliction of flamboyant press-agentry on his following. In "Way Down East" Dick Barthelmess did his finest work outside "Broken Blossoms." Perhaps it was a harder thintr to put across than the Limehouse Chink, because the part was "straight." Anyway, it was a revelation in registered emotion. Jim Kirkwood we have mentioned, but his accomplishments "The Devil's Pass-Key ' is a miracle of detail — it challenges, in its mosaic perfections, any photoplay ever made this year are greater than those of any actor save Tommy Meighan. Charles Ray is suffering from an attack of seriousness. Charles Ray of "The Hick" was the idol of young and old — masses of classes. If "Forty-Five Minutes from Broadway" is a mere experiment, well and good. If it is a sample of new adventures — alas for Charles! Wallace Reid is a better actor than most of his pictures permit him to be: and he holds his idol's place more than those pictures warrant. Douglas Fairbanks flashed back to his old form once — in "The Mollycoddle." Elliott Dexter has returned — as suave, as polished, as spiritually alert as ever, if not as physically forceful. Eugene O'Brien needs better plays: he has had nothing of consequence sime "The Perfect Lover." Antonio Moreno seems to be the king of serials, with William Duncan, a more robust but not so romantic actor, running him close for honors. William Farnum maintains his hold on the public not only by his force but by his great sincerity, yet he needs more vehicles which fit him as snugly as "If I Were King." Jack Holt has emerged from villainy to heroism, and he has proved the wisdom of his managers in so casting him. Harrison Ford, Douglas Mac Lean, David Powell. Casson Ferguson, Niles Welch, Charle. Meredith. Ralph Graves, John Bowers. Jack Mulhall, Cullen Landis. Mahlon Hamilton. Kenneth Harlan, Wyndham Standing — all good actors enjoying wide favor. Conway Tearle. now a star, will probably always be Conway Tearle whatever his vehicle. Milton Sills as a screen husband is excelled only by Meighan and Dexter. Herbert Rawlinson has suffered from the lack of good stories. Bert Lytell might be said to be an equal victim of story-starvation: but. nevertheless, he has done notably good work at Metro in notably poor scenarios: "The Right of Way"' probably gave the best demonstration of his talents during the pasl year. Among the comedians Harold Lloyd is the leader. Rosi Arbuckle has, to a greater or less( i degree, worn only well-won but ancient laurels. Chaplin seems to have retired from business. Buster Keaton is a comer. At Sennett's Ben Turpin is starring his way to fame, and Louise Fazenda is genuinely funny now am', thin: but otherwise the great laugh-foundry of Alessandro street keep in work only to depict the lovely legs of Marie. Phyllis, et <;/.. and the sagacious antics of Teddy, greatest of pu l iin dogS. Among the character men Theodore Roberts and George 1 -Mitt are undisputed leaders, with Roberts a few laps ahead i ntinued on page no)