Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1920)

1 lu rnwiurij^i iMi.i\y>j\i.iLyc r^L/vcixxioii-wj oE/<^iiwi> Jirst aid in eoery fiousefiold -zifusterole Cough, cough, cough. How it racks little Dorothy and passes on to mother and grandma and holds a croup danger for all the little ones ! Hurry, there, with the Musterole, that pure, white ointment that is better than a mustard plaster — and it will not bring a blister. Massage it gently over the chest and neck. Feel the tingle, then the cool delightfulness as Musterole searches down. It will penetrate, never fear. It will rout that old congestion clear away. Musterole is a pure, white ointment made from oil of mustard and a few^ home simples! Musterole searches in under the skin dow^n to the heart of the congestion. There it generates a peculiar congestion -dispersing heat. Yet this heat will not blister. On the contrary you feel a relieving sense of delightful coolness. Rub Musterole over the spot. And you get relief while you use it; for Musterole results usually follow immediately. On no account fail to have a jar of Musterole handy. For coughs and colds and even the congestions of rheumatism or lumbago Musterole is wonderful. Many doctors and nurses recommend Musterole. 30c and 60c jars— $2.50 hospital size. The Musterole Co. , Cleveland, Ohio BETTER THAN A MUSTARD PLASTER ^ 5^75 X' "><? ^x-S5S HAZELL COX, of the Winter Garden says: ^(ulti uiear' are most useful — as theu answer the purpose of hair net (t.nl veil.^* "VEILED FACES" showing how professional beauties increase their charm sent free if you mention your dealer's name. FULD. TRAUBE &'CO. Dept. D, 103 Fifth Ave.. N. Y. The Shadow Stage (Continued) cin, and we rather suspect there was more should *> -Ml » 111 Itl. suspense in the legitimate version than in the screening. Frank Lloyd's is the credit for a swift and fairly creditable production. Pauline Frederick's is the credit for a fine and sincere performance, as is always the case when Polly does a picture. John Bowers has never done anytlrng nearly so good as Husband No. 2 ; Charles Clary was simply horrid as Husband No. i ; and the cast welcomes back such old favorites as Marguerite Snow, the real "Woman in Room 13''; Robert McKim, and Sydney Ainsworth. There is also a youngster named Emily Chichester who looks as if she might do something in an acting line, some day. THE FEAR MARKET— Realart This, the prize celluloid lemon of the month, might be re-named "Don't Waste Your Evening." It might just as well never have been done or have remained in nice seclusion on Realart's shelves. Alice Brady has never been seen to greater disadvantage; good settings are lost in an inadequate sequence of scenes; and while Kenneth Webb's direction is doubtless fair, it presents nothing new. From a story by Amelie Rives^a mechanical scenario has been constructed, with the "plot" apparent from the first reel — and the "plot'' not worthy of anyone's time or trouble in the first place. Frank Losee is the owner and publisher of a scandal sheet, and he doesn't want his daughter, played by Alice Brady-Crane, to know about it. So he makes her live abroad. She is involved in a near-intrigue over there by an unscrupulous opera -singer, Henry Mortimer — and helped out by a kindly woman who is at the moment being black-mailed by the father's agent, so that an affair in her past — in which she was entirely blameless — will not be printed in the sheet. The woman refuses to be coerced; and, reading the nasty item sometime later, dies by her own hand to escape the shame and notoriety. Alice comes home to America, to avenge her friend. The climax, of course, arrives with Alice when her search leads her to her own father's home. Like the brave girl she is, she denounces him, father promises to mend his ways, and at the end we sec Alice in the arms of a young mj.n who at decent intervals in the course of the picture has made decorous love to her. Is there anything in this to induce a first-time picture-goer to pin his flag of faith to the silent drama? A thousand nevers! Alice Brady acts in a dispirited way which doesn't help the piece along. She might have brightened it considerably. NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH— HoImes'Metro Taylor Holmes' genial personality, rather obscured in past months by poor vehicles, is again up to the "Ruggles of Red Gap" standard in "Nothing but the Truth." Not that this first picture from his own studios is nearly as good as "Ruggles," but it gives Holmes a chance to demonstrate his skill as a neat farceur. He paid a very fair price for this Willie Collier stage success — you know the story of young Robert Bennett, who makes a large wager to tell nothing but the truth. There are many chuckles in this, and a few stomach-laughs. Holmes is funny— and the thought occurs that he would make a good romantic actor: he is more polished, more sincere and better-looking than many of our leading men. Ned Sparks, who played in the stage version, is the best thing in the cast. Marcelle, little French wife of composer Earl Carroll, screen well— but doesn't. Elsie Mackaye, Holmes' leading woman, must be an acquired taste, like olives. Having heard her on the stage, we rise to thank this drama for its silence. Edna Phillips Holmes is a good actress and deserves a better part than that of the partner's wife. No expense was spared on the sets, but the scenario wasn't good. It would seem, too, that everyone worked but the title-writer. David Kirkland has not bolstered up his artistic reputation by his part in this; the direction is irregular. Holmes will do "Nothing but Lies'' later on. DOUBLE-SPEED— LASKY Here is half an evening's blithe entertainment. J. Stewart Woodhouse wrote it for Wallace Reid, and it tells the story of young "Speed'' Carr and the adventures that befell him when, set upon by tramps, he ii robbed of everything but his watch — and he has to pawn that. The best part comes after he has got a job as a chauffeur, fallen in love with the pretty daughter of the house, and is suddenly prevailed upon to masquerade as Speed Carr, when he himself is that worthy. It's all cleared up and Wally gels his watch back after some good speed stuff, some gorgeous glimpses of Wanda Hawlcy's Cinderella foot in a smallsize slipper, some ingratiating shots of Wally, who is one man who can look ingenuous without taking on the general aspect of an ingenue; and fine characterization by our old friend Theodore Roberts and his partner in intrigue Tully Marshall. A new director — to us — Sam Wood, handles this well. The puns in some of the titles are terrible. THE STAR BOARDER— SennettParamount All of Sennet t's late comedies follow the same formula. This two-reeler is pulled out of the usual rut by the tiny star boarder himself — the new Sennett baby, Don Marion. He's funnier than Little Davy ; his queer little bobbed head is good for a laugh from any one of the Photoplay Magazine Editors, any time. He is aided by Teddy, the greatest canine performer of all time; Louise Fazenda, who contributes another one of her justly-celebrated lady-boob acts; and Ben Turpin, who does a loaded-cigar stunt in the first part of the picture that leads you to expect the rest of it will be up to the same sandard. It isn't. But Harriett Hammond is awfully pretty. L«n't she? ALL'OF'A'SUDDEN PEGGY— Lasky Shure an' this Marguerite Clark has a way with her. She's not only blessed with perennial beauty, but perennial charm as well. Her present material has been nowhere near the high-water mark of her first screen efforts, such as "Still Waters,'' but she has managed to bear up very well. In this, a little better than the average comedy-drama, she essays the role of impish Peggy O'Mara, daughter of a mother whose chief interest in life is the "Life of the Spider.'' They are the guests of a titled British house whose foolish young bug-hunting Lord loves Mother O'Mara, whose crotchety ladymother doesn't approve of the O'Maras, and whose nice younger son, played by Jack Mulhall, falls in love with Peggy. Mulhall, by the way, looks like Eugene O'Brien and Wallace Reid without acting like either of them. All through five frothy reels Peggy loves Jimmy without knowing it, finally discovering she wants very much to marry Jimmie — all-of-a-sudden ! Mother O'Mara When you wiite to adye'tlseis please nuiitini PHOTOPLAY MAGAZINE.