Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Aug 1927)

71 in Review new films is duly critical comment. Lu.sk tiful, compelling, talented. '"Resurrection" is a triumph for her. So, indeed, is it a triumph for every one concerned in its making — for Edwin Carewe. who is responsible for its sympathetic, smooth direction, and for Tolstoy's son, who collaborated in the adaptation, and who appears from time to time throughout the picture as an old philosopher. "Falling Leaves and Fading Flowers." The excuse for the latest screen appearance of "Ca mille" is Norma Talmadge, and her reputed fondness for the role that was made famous by certain great ones of the stage, and has previously been played on the screen by both Clara Kimball Young and Nazimova. If a spirit of emulation caused Miss Talmadge to choose this hackneyed subject, then she may be said to have added nothing to tradition. But if it was her modest desire to produce just an ordinary picture tastefully and richly, she has succeeded — and saved the price of a new story. Whatever her intention, the result is agreeably unimportant, except in one particular — the introduction of Gilbert Roland as a romantic lover. Unless all signs fail, his Armand will pave the way for similar roles for him, and within a short time he will probably take his place among the first favorites of the day. Miss Talmadge's "Camille," then, is at best an instance of the extraordinary graciousness of a big star in giving a newcomer an opportunity to become a competitor. The story of the unhappy young woman who rose from shopgirl to courtesan, but maintained the elegant aloofness of a duchess, is familiar enough. The original is rather closely adhered to in the film, except that it has been modernized, and this modernization, alas, has robbed Camille' s love affair of whatever charm it might have revealed. If the film had been played in the period of 1830, or earlier, the flounces and ruffles, gilt furniture, and lace fans would have invested the tragic love of Camille for Armand with the sentimental charm and artificial gallantry of a bygone day. But to ask sympathy for a modern heroine who tearfully gives up the one man she loves at the first behest of his father, and then gracefully dies of tuberculosis, is too much in this age of feminine independence. There is, however, in the production a great deal of beauty. Miss Talmadge is a lovely heroine, ethereal, sensitive, sad, yet curiously, she neither convinces nor moves one by her excellent acting. Her portrayal has the quality of a dream through which she wafts, a beautiful wraith, untouched by the vital spark. In Plaid and Tartan. There are kilts and bagpipes, glens, and castles, and a great deal of bloodshed in "Annie Laurie," but it Gilbert Roland is sure to become a reigning favorite on the strength of his Armand, in Norma Talmadge's "Camille." isn't really Scottish, for all that. Nor is it more than mildly interesting, ancT it's not at all sympathetic. Too bad, because Lillian Gish is lovely to look at in the quaint, voluminous costumes of the period, and her mood is lighter and less woeful than in most of her pictures. The film just doesn't arouse any emotion. The story is based on the ancient feud between the MacDonalds and the Campbells, and culminates in the Glencoe massacre, in which Annie Laurie, of course, shines forth as the heroine. Perilously she climbs a cliff to light the beacon which shall warn the clan of impending attack. Honestly, I can't remember which clan it was — the MacDonalds or the Campbells — because the feud was so long drawn out, and Lillian and some of the other characters seemed to be on civil terms with both factions. Norman Kerry is Ian MacDonald. "A Campbell for a MacDonald !" he shouts, as he poses on a high wall, about to hurl the body of Creighton Hale into space. That is the spirit of his role, and Mr. Kerry blusters through it, an actor who realizes that here is his opportunity to run wild and go over big with the girls. He also displays his chest in extreme decollete, and is not averse to doffing every stitch above the waist. This may all be typical of a he-man Scotsman, but it looked like pure Culver City to me. So was the picture. Lon Chaney Goes Chinese. Of course no good can come of it when a young Englishman or American falls in love with a Chinese girl, as any one knows who remembers "Madame Butterfly." But it will happen, both on the stage and on the screen, and in "Mr. Wu" it happens again. Lon Chaney plays Mr. Wu, and Renee Adoree is his almond-eyed daughter, looking incongruously ample in her gay mandarin suit, particularly so beside the diminutive Anna May Wong, her companion throughout the picture. Ralph Forbes gives a sympathetic performance as the young Englishman who causes all the trouble. For there is trouble, and much of it. According to Chinese religion, Mr. Wu must kill his daughter after her despoliation, in order to save her soul. And Renee reallv dies — a noble Chinese death. Ralph Forbes