Screenland (Oct 1923-Mar 1924)

Frederick iames Smith Talks The Mad Movie Actors M "OTION picture players are usually looked upon as mad, but they actually are the best business folk in America. And figures prove it. Consider, for instance, the biggest box office attraction in the field of American sports today — Babe Ruth. Ruth is said to receive $75,000 a season for his work. This figure may even be an exaggeration. The New York Yankees play to an average attendance of 10,000 a game. Accepting these figures, it is safe to estimate that Ruth draws 750,000 persons to the American League ball parks during a baseball season. Since the average price of admission is considerably more than a dollar, Babe Ruth is receiving much less than ten per cent of the money he draws through the turnstiles. Babe Ruth 1PI ABE RUTH is actually a r\ ~\ j ir^L. piker as a business man vs. Our Mary JQ £eside such cinema busi. ness folk as Doug Fairbanks, Charlie Chaplin, Mary Pickford and Harold Lloyd. He isn't getting a tiny measure of the salary he should be receiving in ratio to his ability to attract money at the boxoffice. Jack Dempsey, pugilistic champion, may be a great boxoffice attraction but he actually received considerably less than $300,000 for one fight appearance in two years. The mad movie actor can certainly give the spectacular workers in other fields of endeavor cards and spades in the matter of earning money. No, the film player isn't such a bad business man, after all. The Negro Problem AVID W. GRIFFITH'S The Birth of a Nation hit upon a curious snag upon its presentation in France. Permission to present it was refused because of the negro question involved. The French Government is in an unusual predicament upon the racial question, for it called upon its black colonials during the world war and now owes them a debt of gratitude. So The Birth of a Nation, with its scenes among the negroes of the South during the Civil War and during the reconstruction period, is temporarily on the shelf. More and more the world becomes involved in problems. And more and more it becomes increasingly difficult to deal with any question without hitting obstructions in the most unexpected quarter. Maude Adams and Kim F lOR a long time Maude Adams, once one of the few real idols of the footlights, has been experimenting with motion pictures. Here, indeed, was an odd phase of character development. Frankly, Miss Adams had despised motion pictures. She looked upon them as entertainment for the boobery — and she said so. But, unlike many folk who condemn, she didn't stop there. She started to experiment with this strange new medium of entertainment which had been so steadily encroaching upon the spoken drama. Now this actress, so long silent about her plans and her hopes, has announced that she is going to make a motion picture. It will be Rudyard Kipling's story of mystic India, Kim, and it will be made under her direction in India. Producers have long wanted to do Kim but Kipling had steadily refused. Even in giving in to Miss Adams, Kipling stipulated two things — one, that a boy (and not a girl) play the title role, and, second, that the film be made in India. So Miss Adams, who first scoffed and then came to be conquered, is launched upon her career as experimentor extraordinary in the world of the cinema. The screen certainly needs such critical adventurers ! Pola's Peril P kOLA NEGRI, once such an impressive screen figure in far-away Berlin, presents a remarkable problem of the screen. Her first American-made picture, Bella Donna, was pretty much of a dud and her second, The Cheat, is much worse. Pola has changed. The unthinking will say that the Negri has lost something. Badly advised, she has permitted herself to be prettied. This sugaring process is the most damning thing of our screen. Pola may now be beautiful but the old fire has departed. Her eyebrows have been plucked and her mouth, once so rampant in its abandon, is remodelled to a polite pout. So Pola has changed. Where she once thought of her role, she now thinks of camera lines and photographic values. And one needs something more than a beautiful mask with which to act. They say that the Negri has struggled temperamentally against all this — but The Cheat is final proof that bad advice is engulfing her. Perhaps Miss Negri's new director, Herbert Brenon, will save her. He has the ability — if given the opportunity. Otherwise Pola had better pause to consider. Even with a return to form, the Negri will have to reveal several good pictures before the public will replace her upon her pedestal. Too Much \ 1 TE HEAR that Ernst Lub" „ itsch has declined to do bUgar ^ y that imported Parisian drama of theatre life, Deburau, because he thinks it is "too romantic." That phrase, perhaps, hits upon the chief weakness of our screen. We adulterate our film fare with sugar. We inject saccharine instead of humanness. We hope Lubitsch sticks to his ideals. Our silversheet needs ideals — and something beside Pollyannaisms. Lubitsch is going to do The Marriage Circle, which is described as being adapted from the Viennese. An outline suggests Schnitzler's Reigen, that superb cycle of unending passions in Vienna. Indeed, Reigen may have suggested the original Merry-Go-Round to Eric Von Stroheim. Doug Sans "T TfAVING gazed upon Doug ~j J T|| Fairbanks' new camera stud LlOtheS JJL JJL ies as the undressed hero of his new Thief of Bagdad, we pause to consider. Heretofore, the romantic Arab has appeared on our screen garbed in a custom-made tent. It remained for Doug to discover this new un-sartorial phase of the Bagdadian adventurer. 48