Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Jul 1929)

94 Continued from page 52 That place of the fantastic, the theater, never bred so odd a creature as Uncle Pio, like unto "a soiled pack of cards." A caricature, this "aged Harlequin." He has degenerated, through humble love, as Camila's success has been ascendant, into her general factotum. A roustabout with an intellectual thirst, a gourmet of the drama from its side lines, he has bought the twelve-year-old Camila in a tavern, and from this sullen, awkward nugget of talent has patiently evolved La Perichole. She is his masterpiece ; all who do not love her constitute a "straw population" which, collectively, he would sweep into a heap at her feet. He has taught her Calderon's scintillant poetry and the plays of Lope de Vega, and has bullied and begged and chiseled her into an artist. When a shame that has its roots in pride has driven her to hide her suddenly pitted face from the world, he wins one last favor — the custody of her child, Jaime, in whose training he may live over again his love for her. With the five-year-old boy Uncle Pio approaches the bridge Lastly, a mere blur of childhood's gladness, is the wistful Don Jaime. He is going out into the great world with his beloved Uncle Pio. Yes, into the great world — after crossing the bridge of San Luis Rey But neither Don Jaime, nor Uncle Pio, nor Esteban, nor Pepita, nor yet the old Marquesa pass over the bridge. For, as has never happened before, the osier breaks, and all five are catapulted into the waters far below. For one flashing second Pepita rests in the arms of Esteban, whose half-a-shadow seeks his twin's ; Jaime is safe in U ncle Pio's arms ; and the Marquesa, at last folded in by peace, has in her cleansed heart a new and true maternal love. Tke Bridge of Fate To know them, and the pattern traced by the finger of God, we turn to those other three, for the teaching of whom, as well as the release of the five, the Bridge of San Luis Rey was caused to fall. Camila, la Perichole, with her face like yellow marble, molded by Uncle Pio from the crude vagabond into the actress, arrogant in her popularity, tender and piteous only in her dependence upon his guidance. She captivates ; her beauty is famous, her intrigues numerous. With ambition, she develops herself into an imitation lady of the opera bouffe society of Lima. Nurtured on artificialities, Camila does not know truth when she meets it. Pitted by smallpox, assuming that all tribute paid her has been to her beauty, and mistaking devotion for pity, she retires into her pride. Dona Clara, who has become the Condesa Vicente d'Abuirre, is willful and stubbornly unemotional. At the court of Spain she extravagantly patronizes the arts and sciences, regards her approaching motherhood with cold indifference, and her own mother's impassioned pleas 'with annoyance. After the tragedy of the bridge, in the crucible of suffering, she sees the clear light. That strong figure of history, the Abbess Madre Maria del Pilar, is a sort of feminist, born centuries too soon. Her heart carries pity for the Marquesa's blindness, love for the foundling Pepita, and charity toward all to whom she ministers, the while her mind busies itself with an impractical ideal, the establishment of the dignity of woman. She is a great general, of tremendous will, with, contrarily, a warm sympathy for each small ache in her hospitals. Her determined self-will is routed eventually by a profound humility. A few other picturesque characters people this odd tale with quaintness. Sturdy, inarticulate Captain Alvarado; the pompous Viceroy; and that kindly wit, the adipose Archbishop, who is devout, indeed, but torn between remorse for his gluttony and the appeal of a pheasant, proves weak. A splendid cast has been assembled, with Raquel Torres portraying Pepita, Ernest Torrence Uncle Pio, Lily Damita La Perichole, Don Alvarado and Duncan Rinaldo Esteban and Manuel — or is it Manuel and Esteban? — Emily Fitzroy the Marquesa, Jane Winton Condesa Clara, Eugenie Besserer the Abbess, Gordon Thorpe, Mitchell Lewis, and Paul Ellis. Some necessary liberties have been taken with the story, in which there was originally no love between Pepita and Esteban. The Brother Junipero of the book becomes a Era. The devotion between Uncle Pio and Jaime is developed. And the ending is changed, though not into the conventional pattern. A dramatic structure has been devised, whereby events bring all these lives into closer contact. To the Abbess, who has learned humility, come the Condesa Clara, giving her mother's memory the love she has denied her in life, and Camila, to learn truth in service at the convent. "In love," the Abbess consoles, "our very mistakes don't seem to be able to last long." The three who have lost, and learned, meet and realize their union with the five who have gone — and that "the bridge is love." Thus the good Fra Junipero completes his story, the voices of the choir ring forth the exultant "Te Deum," and the people of Lima pray their faith again. Continued from page 19 deny themselves the luxury of three or four, but Nils only ^nickers and tries to act unconcerned. He likes horse-back riding — alone. Or the open sea in a sailboat. Frank to admit he likes wine at dinner, he is just as ready to say that American laws will always be good enough for him. He likes America. He has traveled the world over and thinks that, aside from a tinge of homesickness, he likes to live in California. Perhaps Santa Barbara or Del Monte. He smokes English cigarettes, but without a holder. To look at him, his outstanding characteristics are worldly sophistication and clean-cut genuineness. He is a friend, a regular, and a sports A Fish Out of Water man. Never have I known a man who could keep so still, when he was uninformed on a subject, or one who could argue so logically and eloquently when he knew the subject being discussed, even though his eloquence is hampered no little by his almost broken English. He says that he can't understand Hollywood. But he knows more about it than you or I, because he studies the cause to understand the effects. For instance, he knows that "open houses" are attended by people that the host has never seen or heard of, prior to their presence at the free lunch. He knows that these hangerson eat and drink everything at hand, mingle with the host's friends, and leave, without saying "Thank you!" or "Good-by !" We know that, too — but we've been too busy to sit back, as he has, and get at the reason behind it. What Nils Asther admits he doesn't understand is the reason for the reason. I have said he was sophisticated. He is, until American slang is used. Then he becomes almost naive. I once asked him if they plastered the streets of Stockholm with billboards. He looked puzzled and finally said, "No — plaster isn't good enough for streets in such cold weather. We use small, square stones for paving." Meet my friend, Nils Asther, a gentleman from the old country.