Picture-Play Magazine (Sep 1928 - Feb 1929)

67 Evelyn Brent, William Powe 1 1 , Doris Kenyon, and Clive Brook, in "Interference,'' the most artistic dialogue film yet exhibited. Talking pictures this month come to the fore and establish their claim for serious consideration by reason of some brilliant performances, though they do not monopolize them. Kane, an adventuress, who blackmails the wife of Sir John Marlay, a' distinguished physician, because Faith Marley took from Deborah, for her first husband, the only man Deborah ewer loved, Philip Voaze. His supposed death enables Faith to marry Sir John, and his sudden reappearance causes Deborah to levy a price for the letters Faith had written him. It is true there is no novelty in these circumstances, but there is considerable suspense in their telling, with a wholly unexpected development in the murder of Deborah and the evidence of guilt which points to Sir John. Not even Boldini, in "Beau Geste," afforded a better display of William Powell's talents than is found in Philip Voaze. It is a brilliant characterization, this wastrel and adventurer who contrives nevertheless to intrigue one's sympathy, and Mr. Powell plays him with superb assurance and biting cynicism. The same can be said of Miss Brent, though for some reason photographic values are sacrificed in achieving speech on the screen, with the result that she is without the advantage of her usual cameo clearness of feature. But she is a magnetic and forceful figure. "Interference" shouldn't be passed by, if you mean to keep abreast of what is taking place in the revolution of the movies. An Orgy of Brilliance. Ah, here is a picture ! It is "Show People," with Marion Davies and William Haines, directed by King Vidor, whose incredible versatility has given us such divergent subjects as "The Big Parade," "The Crowd," and now this sublimation of slapstick. Though a -burlesque on Hollywood and the movies, it has the quality of amazing pathos, and is the best picture in which either Miss Davies or Mr. Haines has ever appeared. Whichever way you look at it, either as a slapstick comedy with sentimental trimmings, or a shrewd and piercing expose of the movie temperament, it cannot fail t<i ring the bell. First, last, and always it is entertaining. It begins with the arrival in Hollywood of Peggy Pepper and her father from Savannah, .Georgia, intent on entering the rinovies. The girl imagines herself a great dramatic actress and is befriended by Billy Boone, a star comic at a slapstick studio, who gets a role for Peggy in one of his films. Like immortal Merton, the girl does as she 4s told, complacent in the belief that she is stealing a sprig from Sarah Bernhardt's laurels. When she learns the truth her chagrin and heartbreak are great and — thanks to Miss Davies and Mr. Vidor — touching. One laughs at Peggy and feels sorry for her at the same time. She remains in comedies, because her seriousness is funnier than if she consciously clowned, and because she and Billy Boone are • fond of each other. Then Peggy is "discovered" for serious roles, whereupon she forsakes slapstick, acquires a swelled head, and ritzes poor Billy. She is Patricia Pe poire now ! The climax of Peggy's affectation, which, by the way, is not nearly so far-fetched as might be supposed, comes when she is about to marry Andre, her leading man, because of the title he says is his, but which, of course, is spurious. Billy arrives for the wedding, which in itself is a burlesque of some of Hollywood's swell nuptials, and saves Peggy from her folly by an expedient that leaves one gasping at its unexpectedness, simplicity, and logic. It really wouldn't be fair: to let you in on this. 1 While Miss Davies' performance is hardly surprising in view of her success as a comedienne, Mr. Haines has never had an opportunity so to fully reveal his rare ability. As his mood veers from buffoonery to pathos, from jesting to sincerity, it is expressed with unfailing expertness and that simplicity which is always proof of genuine feeling and good taste. However, the stars by no means monopolize the show. Just watch Polly Moran, in a bit as Peggy's maid. You need not be reminded to look twice at Paul Ralli, as Andre. It falls to his lot to parody the great Gilbert, with overtones of Gilbert Roland. The role, in fact, was first called Roland Gibby; so the discovery is not a private one. isaauaMiuuuttimMttumMimk — — i BagamafflBMiimBfl