Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1918)

70 Photoplay Magazine Wallace Reid and Anna Little, in "The Source," the old story of a decadent young man who redeems himself in a lumber camp. Dorothy Phillips and William Stowell, in "The Talk of the Town." Here, at last is a photoplay equal to Miss Phillips talents. A characteristic Sennett symphony. The diners, fromjeft to right, are Chester Conklin, Mary Thurman and Ford Sterling. bells of peace and good-will ring out their message, an Alsatian inn-keeper murders a rich Jew who is his guest, and while the crime, as a mystery, is soon wiped off the local records, it is not wiped off the murderer's conscience. The uncanny performances of a hypnotist eventually terrify the innkeeper as much as they delight his bumpkin guests. The culprit carries his forebodings to bed, and, from dreams of his crime, is waked by — the bells! Rushing down-stairs, he dies in a paroxism of fright. Keenan's is a great, grim performance. His support is good, the vision scenes are remarkable, and the "snow stuff," in these days of perfect duplication of almost anything, unpardonably bad. The adaptation is by Jack Cunningham, and while no one should seek "The Bells" as light entertainment it is a great hunk of dramatic meat in a menu containing altogether too much cheap pastry and ice cream. THE TALK OF THE TOWN — Universal A lot of things combine to make this the best Universal in a long time: the fascination rather than beauty of Dorothy Phillips; Allan Holubar's generally even direction; good support, and perfectly sumptuous equipment. The story tells of a little girl who received Prussian rule instead of understanding sympathy — and grew up enigmatically cold, adventurous, skeptical of everything, and wild for the greatest freedom. Of course her runaway marriage crashes accordingly, for, as she archly confesses, she married her good heavy lover not for romance but for escape. Only a near-disaster with one who appears a villain dyed in German dye brings her back to her true self. Holubar's light effects, his compositions, his groupings and his adjustments of camera distance are all admirably managed. Inferior direction would permit one to see that many of these sets are much over-dressed — .but Holubar makes you forget that, as you also forget the improbabilities of the early part of the story. After all, it is the work of Dorothy Phillips which grips you here. Her scope is remarkable, for she is, with apparent equal ease, a wistful, wondering fifteen-year-old — and a blase wife, all in the same picture. Here at last is a photoplay equal to her talents. Norman Kerry gives a fine fillip to the finish, and William Stowell is the solid but somewhat picturish husband. LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS— Sherman Zane Grey's story, "The Light of Western Stars," would have to be the best Western yarn every typed to live up to its great title. It isn't, but it's a good one, and it makes a very fine return steed for Dustin Farnum. In fact, I'm not sure that Farnum has ever had anything better. It has vitality, swift action, a story with an unbroken thread of suspense, a good love interest and a startling punch or two. Moreover, it has human characters with whom you become intimately acquainted as the story rolls along. Winifred Kingston comes back, too, as the heroine to the Dustinian hero. STOLEN ORDERS — William A. Brady This big war melodrama, with its story laid both behind and during the world conflict, contains little that is subtle, but much that is elemental, thrilling and alluring to lovers of direct action and physical excitement. It is in eight reels, and the cast is entirely of World Film complexion, including as it does the recently-departed Kitty Gordon, June Elvidge, Montagu Love, Carlyle Blackwell and even little Madge Evans. The original drama was by Cecil Raleigh and Henry Hamilton, and in the screening Miss Gordon and Mr. Blackwell have the leading roles, sheit is interesting to note the changes in mimic personnel (Continued on page 92)