Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Aug 1926)

66 T HE legendary heroes of storybooks could not have possessed one hit more of daring than do the moving-picture producers of to-day. They will try absolutely anything, and I, for one, can only admire a company that attempts "Lady Windermere's Fan" and "Hogan's Alley" both in the same month. I am speaking of Warner Brothers, those dauntless gentlemen who refused to be abashed by the delicate job of translating Oscar Wilde into movieism, an undertaking, to mv mind, not one whit less difficult than separating a dragon from all seven of his heads. They tried it and, like all brave heroes, they have succeeded, not exactly in capturing Oscar Wilde, but in making a good picture, which is undoubtedly all they were trying for, anyway. The bare plot, Wilde or no Wilde, is as melodramatic as any ten-twenty-thirty idea. A woman of doubtful reputation sacrifices her last chance for respectability in order to save her daughter from the same foolish mistake she herself made in her youth. The daughter has never known her mother, so the sacrifice is a real one, with no chance of a just reward as the curtain falls. As you can see, there are plenty of opportunities in such a plot for wry smiles, torn emotions, and oh, the bitterness of it all ! But Lubitsch, the director, has spared us most of them. The picture is refreshing and charming, well acted, and directed with sophistication. As Lady Windermere's mother, irene Rich plays the most grownup part of her career. It seems strange to see the usually wronged but gentle Miss Rich, playing the part of a social outcast — not the outcast of the stage and screen, but a real woman, balancing on the edge of the only world she knows, balancing prettily and gracefully to be sure, but fearfully none the less. The rest of the cast, good as they are, lag several paces behind Miss Rich, who undoubtedly does the best work she has ever done. There is one scene between her and Bert Lytell that stands well to the fore of any acting I have ever seen on screen. May McAvoy seems rather colorless as Lady Windermere. There is such a thing as being so restrained as to go entirely^ unnoticed. A single rose in a vase, in spite of what the Japanese say, is often neither as beautiful nor effective as a whole bowl of them. Ronald Colman has an almost villainous role. I've heard that the Warners paid a large sum for the services of this popular actor, but I firmly believe that they wasted whatever money they spent. The part he plays is slight, and though he is attractive and capable, I feel that their own John Roche would have done just as well in the part and saved them the expense of getting an outside star. "Lady Windermere's Fan" is full of the same sort of delightful details that "Kiss Me Again" and "The Marriage Circle" contained. I do not know what America has meant to Mr. Lubitsch, but I think that Mr. Lubitsch has taught America how to smile. Yuletide Whimsy. When the holidays approach, all of us are entreated to forget all we know, and become girls with our girls, The Screen Looking over the latest film offerings, By Sally childhood is of Barrie's, though May McAvoy fls Lady Windermere in "Lady Windermere's Fan." or boys with our boys. Our return to usually marked by a whimsical something and I must admit that I find that my knees creak slightly and I feel a draught on the back of my neck when I undertake this yearly romp with the kiddies. This year it was "A Kiss for Cinderella," with Betty Bronson, or starring Betty Bronson. This is an adaptation, and a slight enlargement, of the stage play of the same name, which was produced in New York seven or eight years ago. It is the story of a little London waif, who has adopted four war orphans. Her vivid imagination, combined with very little food, makes her dreams realities. It is hardly possible to mention a dream scene without referring to "Beggar on Horseback," but as "A Kiss for Cinderella" was conceived and written long before "Beggar on Horseback," the comparison should be made' the other way around. I liked "A Kiss for Cinderella," there are times when it seems to drag unbearably, and during the first scenes Betty Bronson seems almost too positive as a quaint little thing. And the babies in their boxes along the wall act like little puppets worked with strings. There are bits of the dream that are pure delight, and Tom Moore, as the exquisitely bored young prince, is very good. Dorothy Cumming is the beautiful, haughty queen, and Betty Bronson is without a doubt a very engaging child. Herbert Brenon is the director, and he has made the picture a reallv delicate and humorous thing. I am not so certain children will like this. Children do not seek whimsy. But their mothers and fathers, who have forgotten that childhood is a period for custard pies and performing animals, will enjoy it. Spending Made a Virtue. If a story is a good one, it is just as good when read the second time. This is the case with "Skinner's Dress Suit." I have forgotten who made this picture several years ago, but I have a faint recollection that Bryant Washburn was in it, and I am certain that the story originally ran in the Saturday Evening Post. Young Skinner is a clerk with an adoring wife who thinks that he will conquer the world. He asks for a raise, and doesn't get it, but rather than have his wife lose her ideal of him, he doesn't tell her of his disappointment. So she starts in spending the phantom raise, and the first purchase is a new dress suit for her husband. The dress suit leads to accessories and then more accessories, and Skinner, in a frantic