Screenland (May–Oct 1927)

nor age can mar its imagery. Phillipc plays to Joyce all his life through Each time he guides his bow across the strings his music tells her just what Shakespeare wrote so many years ago: "If music be the food of love, play on . . That strain again. Oh it had a dying fall Oh it came o'er mine ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odor." So truly have J. Leo Mcchan, the director, and his gifted cast, caught the spirit of these two happy children, that when I saw the film, I almost felt myself a little girl again; I almost heard a voice — stilled these fifteen years. MOTHER Film Booking Offices'1 new picture "Mother" brings back to us our beloved Belle Bennett of Stella Dallas, — but with a happier climax. Because as the last light fades, she isn't left out in the rain, heartbroken and deserted as other directors love to leave her. Lee Mcchan lets your last vision of her be one of gladness. He shows you Belle and her son, William Blakewell, and her husband, Crawford Kent, all reunited. This is a Kathleen Norris story, so typical that it might have happened over and over again right in your home town. It is one of the fine pictures of the month and you must see it, particularly because of the extraordinary portrayals of William Blakewell and that despicable little flapper, Charlotte Stevens. Motherhood and Belle Bennett are synonymous. She is a real mother — like yours is and mine was. Gentle, kind, capacious-bosomed. Not one of these flat brassiered, hard-faced, youthchasers. There is a keen sense of satisfaction in watching Belle Bennett's work. It shows you what a woman can be when womanhood really flowers. And the company! Every single one from Belle Bennett to Sam Allen, — every single one seemed to live — not to be cast — in his role. Many of us have outgrown Kipling. Some of us never liked him at all. But notwithstanding the ceaseless times he has been dinned into our ears, one little poem of his stands out immortal We all know it, have grown weary of it, and yet when you see Belle Bennett in this picture you will think of it immediately and it will touch you unbearably: "If I were hanged from the highest tree, I know whose love would follow me — Mother O'Mine." HILLS OF KENTUCKY You can always depend upon a dog. Sometimes a star will let you down. But Rin-Tin-Tin and his mate,Nanette, never! In "Hills of Kentuc\y" you will see Rin in the best picture of his canine history. It's a simple enough story about a school teacher and her crippled brother down in the Kentucky hills. And if it weren't for Rin-Tin-Tin you wouldn't see very much. But oh yes you would, too. Because Billy Kent Schacffer, the little cripple, does some pretty fine acting. I beg your pardon He doesn't act and that's the grandest sur' prise of the whole picture That kid is just natural — the way a child ought to be If they can only keep him from developing into an "artist " Our old friend, Tom Santschi, chocked as full of "it" as ever, plays the villain Isn't it strange nobody has the fore-thought to cast him in the hero's role. But like the old man who kept going to the pictures hoping some day Mary Pickford would "fall", I keep on taking in the movies trusting that some time Tom Santschi will win the girl Jason Robards plays the hero and while he didn't have what you might call a fat dramatic chance he played his role with a great deal of sincerity. A year from now you girls will be fighting for his pictures. I liked "Hills of Kentuc\y" so much that I'd go to see another just like it if I knew where to find one. You can always depend on dogs They let you down never G[ Thelma Hill, one of the Mac\ Sennett beauties wishes to announce that Screenland in June will publish an article about the other ladies of the bath' ing suits, DON'T TELL THE WIFE If you're a brunette and the boy friend has a fatal tendency towards beautiful blondes' slim ankles, take him to see "Don't Tell the Wife". The chances are he'll think a couple of times before he asks you to give him back his ring And another thing, too, after the wedding day, the size of the ankles doesn't make such a whale of a lot of difference because most of the time they'll be hidden under the cook stove or a bungalow aprOn anyway. In the five years that I've been perusing cook books I never saw it mentioned that a rhythmic-ankled blonde could turn oui a lighter crusted apple pie than a brunette. In "Don't Tell the Wife", Irene Rich is the deserted wife, brunette, naturally. Lilyan Tashman is the dainty natural (we hope) blonde who steals the husband. But even with all her marvelous figure and everything, Lilyan couldn't hold said snatched property. He comes back home to Mama. Mostly they do, too. Particularly if Mama keeps her mouth closed and has a cheerful facility with the skillet. And I'm not fooling. Size sixteens are grand modelling at Worth's or Patou's but almost any luciously-rounded thirty-eight can find a permanent position in the matrimonial game if she can stick ten cents worth of round steak into the oven and drag it out tasting like a real porterhouse. Don't tell the boy friend but — romance may fade. But eating retains its kick. 50