The Night of Love (United Artists) (1927)

Hjrre^s A Selling Feature^ LOVE IN NIGHTS OF OLD Vilma Banky And Ronald Colman, Together In “The Night Of Love”, Talk Of Love By LAWRENCE BROWN When the sheik of today parks his sport roadster beside the boulevard and says to his lady fair: “Cuddle up closer, deaxie?” is he acting any differently than did Julius Caesar with Cleopatra 2,000 years ago? Does the college foursome yodel- ing “Sweet Adeline” outside the windows of a sorority house at 2 A. M. on a summer’s evening have a different technique than did the Spanish cavalier crooning a love song before a barred window to his inamorata ? In other words, is love any dif¬ ferent today from what it was cen¬ turies ago; have methods of love- making improved or retrograded; is fiery, passionate love a development of the year 1927 or was it always just the same? In the opinion of America’s great¬ est love-makers, Ronald Colman and Vilma Banky, the greatest ad¬ venture, that of falling in love, is just as much of an adventure to¬ day as it ever was, and there will be just as much of a thrill in perfect love-making a thousand years from now. “Love—eet is just the same as al¬ ways,” says Miss Banky. “To every man and woman it comes at least once, and to them it ees always ze great adventure.” Miss Banky and Mr. Colman have just emerged from the most intense and thrillingly passionate love scenes ever played for the silver screen by an actor and actress, so their opinions are not lightly to be cast aside. “We, Miss Banky and myself, have lost ourselves in the romance of primitive love a.nd in the story of two passionate lovers,” said Mr. Colman. “From the day when we started the first scene of Mr. Gold- wyn’s picture, ‘The Night of Love,’ until the day we made the last ‘re¬ take’ we lived like two people in a dream. “We have learned that there is al¬ ways something new about love- making and that no two people in love ever behaved precisely the same. “We have also learned that love itself does not change, that it is ageless. When Paris stole Helen and carried her away to Troy he was setting an example to be fol¬ lowed in nearly all the details by Mr. and Miss America, model 1927. And, to be truthful, Paris was not even setting an example, for he was but following the precepts laid down by the first caveman who took unto himself a mate through persuasive use of a stone hatchet. “Making love before the camera must not be ‘just acting,’ it must be felt, heart, soul and spirit. The marvelous story of Montero, the gypsy prince, and his overwhelming love for Marie, the little princess of France, enthralled us both, body and soul.” How do the stars achieve this submerging of their own individu¬ ality? How do they transform themselves into two other people of a different age, with different ideas, thoughts and dreams but with the same eternal desires? Let George Fitzmaurice, master director, tell his side of the story. “They must feel they are real characters, not actors,” says Mr. Fitzmaurice. “We can help them, yes, but if they have not the spark of genius in them, they will never succeed. Both Mr. Colman and Miss Banky have that spark, there¬ fore they are, in my opinion, the greatest screen lovers of their time. “In ‘The Night of Love’ they meet and fear and hate and love with a powerful primitive passion that will make audiences gasp and climb on their seats with applause. Their in¬ terpretation of Montero and Marie and their love is fierce, gripping and awe-inspiring, yet it is a pas¬ sion of the spirit rather than the body. It is a passion of the mind, interpreted visually for the screen. And that is the miracle of their genius. “With all the fire and primitive emotion recklessly loosed by these two, there is nothing which could possibly offend the most sensitive of audiences. Our lovers are soul¬ ful rather than sensual, their art is of the clouds rather than the earth.” The observer watching Mr. Col¬ man and Miss Banky going through a love scene suspects but little of the powerful forces stirring their emotions, but the ever-keen eye of the camera catches every flickering shade of expression. During the weeks of filming the love sequences of “The Night of Love,” both Mr. Colman and Miss Banky lived a life of solitude. Hollywood never saw them, party invitations were ignored, their life lay between the studio and their homes. During the days before rehearsals they lived and moved and dreamed the characters of Montero and Maria. For hour after hour they sat before George Fitzmaurice and heard him talk and explain and plan—the romance which was to be. Then came the days when visitors to Samuel Goldwyn sets were met by locked doors and obdurate guards. The set was closed, sealed as the birthplace of primitive desire. At last Fitzmaurice was ready to begin the filming. A carefully trained orchestra, hidden behind a screen of palm trees, played wild, weird Spanish love songs, sobbing and soothing rhythm of the days of feudal Spain. Hammers of car¬ penters on adjacent sets were stilled and the huge, barn-like studio be¬ came solemnly and uncannily quiet except for the throbbing melody. Prop men, maids and attendants were banished to the hinterland of the lot, press-representatives and studio officials were forbidden en¬ trance; last of all the electricians tested and adjusted their spots, banks. and sun-arcs, then fastened them in position and retired to the back of the set, out of sight. Alone with Mr. Colman. Miss Banky and Cameraman Barnes, George Fitzmaurice screened his sequence. What happened is known to the world through the marvelous motion pictures which form the . RONALD COLMAN RCl—One Col. Cut 30c. Mat 5c. RC2—Two Col. Cut 50c. Mat 10c. 16 OZ.—1 LB. To wear a costume which weighed 50 pounds and yet to wear scarcely anything was the fortune of Natalie Kingston, featured player in Samuel Goldwyn’s “The Night of Love,” which comes to the . Theater on . Miss Kingston’s “orgy” costume which weighed 50 pounds was, to say the best, barely sufficient. The weight of the long cloth of silver train was 49 pounds. The rest of the costume weighed 16 ounces. Hyman, the grotesque little come¬ dian in Samuel Goldwyn’s “The Night of Love,” is getting to be known in Hollywood as George Fitz- maurice’s shadow. He has appeared in the last two Fitzmaurice pictures, the most recent one being “Son of the Sheik.” As relations axe ex¬ tremely cordial, he will probably ap¬ pear in future pictures for the di¬ rector. His ambition, he states, is to make a million, and if he portrays many screen characters as excellently as he does the rogue in “The Night of Love,” he will soon achieve his am¬ bition. most thrilling portions of “The Night of Love.” When it was over both stars and directors were on the verge of nerv¬ ous breakdown. For days they hid themselves in the seclusion of their homes, recovering from the terrific tension. Whether their labors, strain, and struggle were worth while is now known by the thousands who have already seen and applauded their magnificent performance. The un¬ usual precautions, and pains, the un¬ counted hours spent in nerve-rack¬ ing detail, the impassioned fervor, sublime feeling and passion have resulted in the transposition of such scenes to the screen as have never been taken before and the world is acknowledging again that Ronald Colman and Vilma Banky have maintained their pre-eminence as lovers. HAD TO SEAL THE FATE OF THIS SEAL “Camera-mad” animals stealing the scene is not uncommon in the movies, as George Fitzmaurice, di¬ rector of “The Night of Love” for Samuel Goldwyn, discovered after an hour of fruitless effort at dis¬ suasion. This time it was a Cali¬ fornia seal, lacking previous screen- test and experience, but with a flair for film fame. For some of the colorful gypsy sequences in “The Night of Love” showing at the .. “Fitz” and the Goldwyn company, including Vilma Banky and Ronald Colman, the co-featured players, “moved” for the day to an ideal spot at Laguna Beach, California. The cameras were placed in position to best “catch” the sparkling waves as they rolled over rocks and beach, the company started to work, and “shooting” commenced. But there was one serious draw¬ back as the cameras cranked. A mischievous seal playing among the rocks and in the water refused to vacate the scene. Wherever the cameras moved, the seal moved also —and always within range of the lens. “Fitz” stroked his forehead and puzzled. In feudal Spain of 500 years ago, where the story of “The Night of Love” is laid, they didn’t have California seals as talented as this one proved to be. So the director called a “recess,” and the Goldwyn company moved a sufficient distance to preclude the seal’s following, and the work of the day proceeded, after a loss of time representing exactly $485. HAY! HAY! THEY TOOK A HAY RIDE! A very real responsibility faced George Fitzmaurice, director of “The Night of Love” for Samuel Goldwyn, now at the . Theater, as he started to “shoot” many thrilling sequences in the pic¬ ture. There is one scene where Mr. Colman as Montero, the gypsy ban¬ dit, must climb a 500-foot cliff with Miss Banky in his arms. So con¬ cerned was Mr. Fitzmaurice tKat every possible precaution be taken that special life nets were con¬ structed and slung under the couple in every stage of the climb. In another sequence, where the bandits, under the leadership of Colman, staged an assault on the ducal castle, the script called for a thrilling fight up and down a 75- foot staircase wherein nobles and bandits in inextricable mass were shoved headlong over the sides of the steps for at least a fifty-foot fall to the floor of the castle below. For these scenes five wagonloads of hay were carted into the castle and placed in large racks to break the force of the fall. Because of all these precautions the many thrilling sequences of “The Night of Love” were filmed without a single casualty.