Picture Play Magazine (Sep 1926 - Feb 1927)

58 The Screen in Review Silken Shackles The Wise Guy "Ella Cinders" " The Rainmaker " finds its way to the screen from the columns of the newspapers, where it first appeared as "Shebo," with Miss Niisson in pants. Considerable changes have been made in the yarn of the girl hobo but I suppose enough of the original remains to keep faith with those who read and enjoyed the story. I say "enjoyed" with a rising inflection. The same inflection should be employed in recording the presence of the picture upon the screen. It is quite absurd, far-fetched and not particularly well acted except for one moment in the last reel when Miss Niisson, under cross-examination by the police, suddenly breaks down, forgetful of her boyish bravado, and becomes a girl in the arms of her lover. This was simply and sincerely done. It gave me the only thrill, or I might say interesting moment, in the whole picture. The story of the girl who, finding herself pursued by an objectionable man at a rowdy party, escapes in boy's clothing and by accident becomes one of a gang of hoboes scarcely comes under the heading of the great human documents of the season. Particularly as all the hoboes, hard-boiled if ever men were, fail to see through her disguise. At least not at once. And the one with this quota of intelligence is the leading man, who isn't a tramp really but a rich, young, and handsome novelist collecting material for a best-seller — probably another opus like "Miss Nobody." The others never see the light until they are presented to Anna O. in white lace, all their time having been given to working up what is called comic relief. So you see that while "Miss Nobody" may entertain on the score of its quick movement, it will hardly give you cause to exclaim at its relation to life on this mortal sphere. Roman Candles and Skyrockets Bebe Daniels, now devoting herself to elaborately mounted comedies, harks back to a former incarnation and gives us "Volcano," adapted from a play done by Josephine Victor some years ago, called "Martinique." Everything, it seems, depends on whether Bebe is a white girl. Before a subtitle in the last reel tells us she is, the anguish endured by Bebe is enough to turn her from drama for the rest of her screen life. France, and the island of Martinique in 1850 are responsible for lovely settings and picturesque costumes, both making a beautiful production carried out in minute detail. Bebe leaves her convent in France to join her father in the West Indies, only to be repulsed by her stepmother and told her place is in the negro quarter of the town. But her short stay in the garden of the home is long enough to attract three gentlemen, all of whom follow her in her banishment for various reasons, Wallace Beery's being naturally the -most sinister. He is the boss of the blacks and, incidentally, gives a magnificent characterization. It goes without saying, doesn't it, that the high jinks of the volcano wash away or burn out the blot on Bebe's ancestry? She sails back to France in the sunset, with a vindicating subtitle and the most handsome of the three men. "Volcano" is beautifully produced; so are Bebe's dresses. Don't Miss This The combination of Pola Negri and Malcolm St. Clair, director of "Good and Naughty," is productive of the best results. And this isn't making light of the support of Tom Moore and Ford Sterling, either. Even Miss Dupont belongs. You will understand what I mean when you see the film. It is a gay, inconsequential tale of a married woman's fondness for a young architect who has grown weary of her and the efforts of a dowdy girl in his office to save him from the machinations of the woman. Mixed up in the conflicting motives of these three are the woman's husband, the architect's partner, a prize fighter and his girl. Pola is the office girl in smock and sandals who blossoms forth as the life of the party in Florida. Her gowns and jewels, wraps and hats will bring delicious despair to every woman who sees them. What emotion her fur-rimmed' parasol will awaken I do not know. These, however, are mere details in one of the best characterizations yet offered by the effulgent Negri. Those of us who have deplored her recent pictures should find cause for jubilation in this. For not only is the film a perfect example of worldly comedy but Pola does a star's share toward making it so.