Picture-Play Magazine (Sep 1928 - Feb 1929)

96 The Screen in Review Continued from page 94 might have been sensationally good, but it is only mediocre. Captain Romper, a middle-aged explorer, is marooned in the Arctic seas when his airplane crashes. There he remains ten years, time and the elements turning him into a monster, half man and half animal, his mind only dimly functioning, his memory of civilization gone. Eventually he is captured and brought back to Germany, where he becomes a freak in a side show, loved, if you will believe it, by Tony, the sister of his owner, who seems to be a girl of sixteen or less. This role is rather charmingly played by Mary Johnson, the Swedish actress. A great physician becomes interested in the case, and restores the monster's mind. With it returns his normal appearance and his disgust for the baseness of human nature. A subtitle tells us he longs to return to the "nobility and purity of the animals." Toriy is willing enough to forsake her sweetheart and go with him to permanent exile in the North, but Captain Romper will not permit her to sacrifice herself, so he turns over to her sweetheart, as a wedding present, the fund that had been subscribed for himself, and Tony presumably finds compensation in cash. Now I ask you Eve Southern Reappears. Eve Southern is too strange and illusive a personality to be found in a picture reminiscent of another's success, but that, unfortunately is what happens in "Clothes Make the Woman," plainly inspired by Emil Tannings' "The Last Command." Instead of a Russian general discovered in Hollywood as an extra, we have none other than Princess Anastasia, daughter of the czar. It seems that a peasant saved her when the imperial family was murdered, and migrating to Hollywood and success as a star in the movies, he is casting about for a suitable leading woman for his next picture, a story of his experience in Russia. What more natural, then, that he should find among the group of eager extras, the very type he desires ? And think what his surprise is when he finds the type to be Anastasia herself ! They repeat for the camera much of what they went through before, until Anastasia is accidentally shot in the execution scenes. This serves the purpose of making them sure they love each other, and so endeth the picture. It is slow and dull in spots and fairly interesting in others, but the standard of mediocrity is valiantly maintained. Eve Southern is very interesting in a role unworthy of her, and Walter Pidgeon, though given to histrionics, is, as always, pleasing. Pity the Romonoffs. "The End of St. Petersburg" was made by the Russian Soviet government, therefore it is scarcely surprising to find it is propaganda. It is, however, startling to find its message so frankly and boldly set forth, in spite of all the hullabaloo of protest preceding its opening. From many of the New York critics it has elicited almost hysterical praise, but I do not think this enthusiasm will be shared by those who may conceivably have harkened to Picture Play's reviewer in the past. The Russian picture does not concern itself with individual characters so much as with mass effects and symbols, hence the spectator is asked to follow the beginning of the revolution by means of revolving wheels in a munitions factory, smokestacks, whistles, half-plowed fields, distorted views of statuary, et cetera, rather than -by human interest as a common denominator. The overthrow of the czar is not shown, but the success of the revolution is nevertheless made perfectly clear, by the symbolic figure of a peasant woman ascending the steps of the former imperial palace, bearing a pail of beer. "The End of St. Petersburg" is for those who prefer pictures made as far away from Hollywood as possible, and who think the camera is a better actor than the stars. Interesting, But Not Inflammatory. Bitter controversy preceded the opening of "Dawn," the film record of the execution of Edith Cavell, the English nurse, during the war. Those opposed to the showing of the film contended that it would rekindle old hatreds and bare wounds now happily healed. But if the opening in New York is any criterion of what will occur when the picture is shown elsewhere, there is no cause for alarm. Outwardly all was harmony among the spectators who followed a careful, impartial, and reverent attempt to depict the events which culminated in the death of Miss Cavell. The picture has a documentary quality which precludes its acceptance from any other standpoint. So the question of story need not be considered. Enough to say that Nurse Cavell is seen in charge of her hospital in Brussels, with the Germans in possession of the city. Touched by the plight of an escaped Belgian prisoner, she aids him to return to his lines and, as further demands are made upon her, she enables other unhappy soldiers to do likewise, until she has restored two hundred and ten men to the Allied armies. She is arrested, tried for treason, according to military rules, and is sentenced to death. Sybil Thorndike, the eminent British actress, plays Nurse Cavell with what one feels is reverent exactitude. It is scarcely acting, but consecration to a cause. Marie Ault, Micky Brantford, and Maurice Braddell give fine performances. Confectionery. Picture based on musical comedies are apt to be unsubstantial at best, but skillful treatment can sometimes make them agreeably entertaining. "Lady, Be Good" is a case in point. Of gossamer lightness, it nevertheless moves along brightly enough to make one forget its cream-puff consistency, so why worry? Dorothy Mackaill and Jack Mulhall are excellent as the vaudeville magician and his partner, who separate to go their respective ways professionally, only to unite again when their high hopes have collapsed. Surely not much on which to build a picture, but the building — the characterizations, direction, and subtitles — is far more important than the foundation. Such incidents as occur when Dorothy Mackaill dines with a man she doesn't like, and conceals in the folds of her cloak a full-course dinner for the hungry Mr. Mulhall, are replete with comic values, and Miss Mackaill, by the way, has never looked lovelier. No One Like Our Clara. It's a serious Clara Bow you will see in "Ladies of the Mob," a crook story which enables our Clara to give her finest performance since "Mantrap," and incidentally gives Richard Arlen the best role he has ever had. Detailing the plot is not necessary, for the story is hardly an involved one ; it is the suspense that counts, and the clever direction. Clara is Yvonne, who knows her underworld as well as George Bancroft, and Mr. Arlen is "Red," her sweetheart. They are partners in crime, and glad of it, until Yvonne is convinced of the error of their ways and resolves to convince Red, too. In the end they are caught and sentenced to prison, but Yvo-nne is far from downcast, because she looks to the future when they shall be free. Sounds Pollyannaish, and actually is, but Clara and Mr. Arlen make it real. Quite worth your while, I assure you, and if there is any doubt in your mind of Clara's depth of feeling, it will vanish.