Screenland (Sept 1922–Feb 1923)

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1 H0U.VWOOO C*MW>WIIA great patrons of Art— and they also have Better Pictures Committees intent upon elevating the movies — but, dear Heaven, don't ask them to be so utterly immodest, so incredibly lost to all decency, as to endorse any efforts on the part of low-minded directors to inject Art, that Art which is the very breath of their club life — into the movies. Apollo is perfectly corking as a sculptured figure— but Herbert Rawlinson as Apollo for the benefit of the untutored masses, oh, not even historically, educationally, don't you know, could it possibly be done. Psyche, too, even taking her bath, remains in perfectly good standing in paint and canvas — but in modern vital photography, well, not even Elsie Ferguson or Lila Lee could be suffered in such a role. But let us conf i n e ourselves for Ok a moment to this matter of photography. There is distinct vogue for pictures in the nude of certain human beings— both male and female — usually taken at a tender age, anywhere from six months to three or four years, by which time their parents, at least, should have been properly inculcated with the modest ethics of civilization. But even a Morals Efficiency Association would hesitate to carp at these. Let these young persons but try to emulate the vogue a few years later, or even to show some person of the opposite sex the immodesty perpetuated upon them in their extreme youth in the family album— well, we should know exactly what to think of them! I, myself, recall a hideous incident of this kind perpetrated upon myself <I A director can hark back to ancient Rome and strip 'cm with impunity. Kathryn McGuirc in Sennctt Comedies. and a young aunt of mine only a few years older. But that, meant that when she was eighteen and a modest young lady, I was only fourteen and still steeped in condoned immodesty. So when a beau of hers called and it fell to my lot to entertain him, I naturally fell back upon the family album. There we were — I a cherub of some three months, she a cherubim of about four years, and both of us reeking of Truth, Realism, Nature and undraped Barbarism. And even Art could not save the day, for my youthful auntie was obviously bowlegged in the picture. Now that was the day of the Gibson Girl floor-sweeping skirt, so the young man could not verify any hope that auntie's legs had since successfully aspired to a more righteous longitude. Being a modest girl, she was completely barred from offering any evidence. But, you see, if that had only happened in 1922 instead of in 1896, she need never have lost him — which, alas, she did, young men being such sticklers for some forms of Art — and I need not necessarily have been nagged by the whole family for months after as a most inherently immodest child! Or if my parents had only exercised their own inherent modesty while I was yet too young to influence their {Continued on Page 72 ) 25