Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Aug 1926)

63 in Review and comments on many new films. Benson The palm trees in "Moana," the straight and happy young people, the ripened old ones, and the clear sea seemed to me to represent a real Garden of Eden. Personally, I should rather drink cocoanut milk, and wear a dress made from the inside of a mulberry tree, than to gnaw at a bit of blubber and shoot my spring wardrobe. The picture shows youth rising to manhood in a simple and remote land. 'The process of growing up is delightful and elemental. There are no such disturbing problems as what college to choose, or what clothes to wear ; there is no such thing as a wise crack ; there are no bobbed-haired bandits nor big mail robberies ; and there is an amazingly nice little boy named Plea, small brother of the hero, who climbs up coconut trees like a young squirrel and brings down the nuts. The only faintly unpleasant part of the picture is the scene of the ordeal of Moana's initiation into manhood, when he is tattooed from his waist to his knees. The tattooing experts are known as "tafungas," and it is a matter of great pride with them to have each pattern accurate and proper. The tattooing implement is fitted with a bone needle and hammered into the youth's flesh while he winces with pain. I thought this a little too longdrawn out. But there is no tragedy in this picture, none of the relentless struggle of "Grass," none of the bitterness of "Nariook." The Polynesians seem to be a happy, carefree, fortunate people, existing on the kindly bounty of the land, swimming and playing their way through what appears to be an ideal existence. They set their crude traps for wild animals, snare huge fish and turtles, pick fruit, and weave their clothes, all in a tranquil and sunny way. The dances in the crude huts are lovely, and the physical beauty of every one in the picture is the greatest blow to civilization I have ever seen. Children should be taken to see "Moana." They will love Plea, and I think will envy him more than they do any mythical and slightly Nordic Peter Pan that ever lived quaintly in a tree-top house. For Peter Pan exists only in the mind of a whimsical Englishman, while Plea is a real honest-to-goodness boy. Back to Limehouse. "The Black Bird" is a perfectly fine melodrama of London's Limehouse district, that convenient locale where we can alwavs find crooks of the better sort. It One of the characters in tranquil life in was directed by Tod Browning, who directed "The Unholy Three," and though I didn't find it as absorbing a tale as that unusual film, it was quite thrilling enough. When Lon Chaney takes to playing a double role, you may be sure that he will come to no good end. He is in this a tough, tough thug known as the Black Bird and he lives with his brother, a holy man, known as the BisJiop of Limehouse. The Black Bird makes trouble, the Bishop tries to undo it. However, not to deceive you too long, Lon Chaney takes both parts. After a few neat robberies, he changes his clothes, throws a wicked hip out of joint, distorts a shoulder, and becomes his own crippled brother. It's a marvelous part for Chaney; he enjoys his villainy so. Everything goes smoothly until he falls in love with a pretty French dancer, played by Renee Adoree, and Miss Adoree is indeed worth falling in love with. She very nearly takes the picture in her clever hands and runs away with it. Unfortunately for the Black Bird, Miss Adoree loves West End Bertie, alias Owen Moore, and so the fighting begins. In the end, Mr. Chaney throws his hip out once too often, and breaks his back. West End Bertie reforms. Tod Browning has a remarkable sense of melodrama. He photographs bits of action, and fleeting glimpses of faces, making in a few seconds a point that many directors couldn't make in several reels of action. So that, whenever there is any villainy afoot, I hope that Mr.: Browning is always about to see that things go from bad to worse. Broadway Heart Throbs. "The Song and Dance Man," directed by Herbert Brenon; is a sympathetic and clever story dealing with the tips and downs of the vast army of troupers who play the two-aday. On the stage, George M. Cohan himself played the leading role, which in the picture is taken by Tom Moore. Mr. Moore comes out ahead with the acting honors, partly through his own efforts and partly because of the very fine cast supporting him. There are Bessie Love and Harrison Ford, Norman Trevor, and many others. All of them are good. Herbert Brenon has astutely sprinkled just enough of heartaches and just enough of humor into his action. And then he has whipped it up to a Broadway tempo. Tom Moore, with his dancing partner dead, his money gone, and his girl in need, decides to attempt a hold-up. Luckily he bungles the job, and his victim takes him to his apartment, and worms his story out of him — not that a story has to be wormed out of a vaudeville actor, but then this film isn't exactly accurate. His story rings true, and his benefactor turns out to be a theatrical producer, who gives him his chance on the stage. He turns cut to be a flop, but his girl saves the day by stepping out onto the rehearsal stage and doing the Charleston. Now you see why Bessie Love is in the cast. "Moana," a true picture of the South Seas.