Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Jul 1929)

94 Continued from page 92 on an imaginary planet. True, there are signs of his masterly direction, particularly in his handling of crowds, and over it all is the stamp of authority, even though that authority is distorted. One of the chief defects is his telling of two stories unrelated except by the presence of three characters in both. In the first he depicts the evils of atheism among students, and the second lets us in on the horrors of reformatory life. For all Mr. DeMille's brilliant direction of the fighting students, the school never seems real. One of the reasons is that Lina Basquette, George Duryea, and Eddie Ouillan occupy adjoining desks. It isn't made clear that one of these is backward in his studies, or that the other is precocious, so the seeming disparity in their ages should be accounted for, together with the presence of the child, Mary Jane Irving, in the same school. It is the death of this child in the rioting of the students, that causes the three principals to be clapped into a reformatory. Though well dressed and anything but waifs, not a relative or friend appears to defend them, to visit them in the reformatory, or to protest against the hideous cruelties imposed on them by Noah Beery, as the warden. When a fire destroys the place and frees the young people, they stroll out, the girls smartly attired, with silk stockings and stilt heels, and the boys nattily collegiate. Nor is there even then a soul to give them the glad hand. The acting is good enough, particularly on the part of Eddie Ouillan and George Duryea, a new personality and a pleasing one, and Marie Prevost is amusing, I suppose,, as a slangy inmate of the reformatory. Though she and Miss Basquette are denied nourishment by the fiendish authorities, they could have made a square meal off their make-up. Happiness Via Griddle Cakes. A waitress falls in love with a chauffeur and discovers he's a millionaire. Who shall say that the gods are not weeping ? For this is the plot of "This Is Heaven," chosen from all the world of stories to star the exquisite Vilma Banky, who is unlike any other star. Obviously an attempt is being made to Americanize Miss Banky, to divest her of the gorgeous costumes she wore in period pictures and to reduce her to the understanding of the herd. Said herd is incorrigibly romantic, however, and while it _ doubtlessly enjoys seeing the realization of the poor girl's dream to marry a rich man, it also relishes a The Screen in Reviev? heroine clothed in fine raiment moving through scenes of fabulous luxury. "This Is Heaven" is neither honest enough to qualify as a realistic drama, nor florid enough to be called picturesque. Instead it is commonplace. However, there are redeeming features which may count for more with the majority than the lack of an original story. One of them is Miss Banky's voice, heard for the first time ; another asset is the wisecracking titles of George Marion, Jr., and still another is the presence of the popular James Hall, as the chauffeur-millionaire, and the excellent acting of the entire cast, which includes Fritzi Ridgeway, Lucian Littlefield, and Richard Tucker. Miss Banky's speech betrays a marked accent, a charming one, but as her voice is low and full, her possibilities as an audible actress are by no means limited to playing immigrants who say "Yah !" and "Nein !" She is first seen at Ellis Island, where she is taken in hand by a worldly relative who proceeds to change her shawl and voluminous skirts for more modish apparel. Presently Eva is metamorphosed into the loveliest girl who ever tossed a flapjack in the window of a restaurant where all who pass may see. There is no need to recount progress of the romance between Eva and the supposed chauffeur. It includes, as usual, the opening advances, later love-making, misunderstanding, and inevitably the complete understanding inside the swell home the millionaire has prepared for her. Clara Bow Speaking. Curiosity to hear Clara Bow in "The Wild Party," her first dialogue picture, leaves no doubt of the crowds it will attract. Whether they will be enchanted by what they see and hear — well, that's another story. I, for one, wasn't. It isn't because Miss Bow's voice is not like Ruth Chatterton's, either. Rather it is due to the slowness of the picture. This exposes the mechanics of the "wildness" and causes one not to believe the goings on are so gay after all, particularly as some of the contributors to it — a bevy of girls — sound like children speaking pieces at a church sociable. Such piping, trivial, self-conscious voices don't belong to wild maidens. As for Miss Bow's vocal equipment, it is for the most part adequate, though not exciting. But at least she is distinct, and only occasionally is self-conscious. However, the price one pays to hear her is high, because the essential speed of her picture is sacrificed. In this case diminished pace is all the more noticeable, be cause the story is about the high jinks of college girls led by Miss Bow, as Stella Ames, high priestess of wildness. One of the pranks of Stella and her pals consists of attending a sorority dance in one-piece costumes. Ejected, they set off for a road house, fur coats slung over their spangles. Needless to say they are divested of their coats by a trio of roughnecks, and then trouble starts. Stella is rescued by young Professor Gilmore, whom she has already marked for her own. Eventually the "scandal" of their return to the campus in the wee, sma' hours is discovered. To make Stella even more of a noble heroine, she assumes the blame for supposedly compromising letters written by her chum. Both she and the professor separately flee the stifling confines of the halls of learning and, oddly enough, discover each other on the same train. But why go on? Fredric March, as Professor Gilmore, is well cast in every particular. He has a voice and knows how to use it, though he is not a type to cause daydreams among the fans. Of the many girls who appear in the picture, the only ones who contribute more than legs and pretty faces are Shirley O'Hara, as Stella's studious roommate, and Joyce Compton, as a catty tattler. The Kindest Judge in Christendom. If Dorothy Mackaill is your weakness, you will find her at her best in "His Captive Woman." But if you look for another performance to equal Milton Sills' in "The Barker," you will not find it. His role of Officer Thomas McCarthy is scarcely as colorful as the carnival man, though Mr. Sills makes the most of it and his fine voice here assumes a brogue. Both have considerable dialogue, though much of the film is played in silence. Speech and silence are rather cleverly combined, in fact, for the story begins with Dorothy Mackaill, as Anna Bergen, a chorus girl, on trial for homicide. As each witness takes the stand and is audibly cross-examined, his story is enacted in the silent form. The longest interval of silence comes when Officer McCarthy tells his story, which starts when he is sent to the South Sea Islands to apprehend Anna Bergen and bring her back to the United States. On the homeward voyage they are wrecked in the tropics, where much transpires, including Anna's rescue of McCarthy from the jaws of a shark, and their "marriage" in the sight of Heaven, but not the church. The arrival of a Continued on page 104