Judge — March 14, 1931 — page 18: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

JUDGE kb GEORGE J might moving picture ain any control is to be had in the 1 Heat Way » in the Fulton Plainly pro the films, it vant a smear sampce of what we expect if. the pashas were te over the thea case of the play put on several we hy the Warner B duced with an amounted to of nothin eye to bout as el: it all as has been uncov- cred along Broadway since the oldest Warner took his first English lesson. ast two of the ushers who had 1 the Fulton in happier days left the theatre abruptly after the first act, and at the end of the second the es- timable M. Stone, who used to take tickets at the old Weber-Fields Music Hall and who now attends the gate at the Fulton, dashed out and jumped into a ts b in’ such haste that he broke his Christmas sus- penders. The Warner Brothers’ liter- ary and dramatic exhibit disclosed it- self to be the one that takes place an Oriental outpost of the British pire where Englishmen in white flan- nels sit around the club, are elabo- rately sahibed by burnt-cork members of the Actors” Equity Associati dressed up for an Elsa party, drink a great deal of whiskey and soda, and pass nasty cracks at Hugh Beauchamp-Cholmondely-Gold- vogel, who was mixed up in the Dray- ton divorce case.“ enthusiastic pu remember the Drayton divorce case, don't you? A fine fellow, Drayton, the salt of the earth! His wife, Doris, was found in that fellow Beauchamp-Cholmondely- Goldvogel’s flat after a night of God knows what intrigue having breakfast with the cad. I tell you he’s not fit for decent women to associate with! The club would do well to rid itself him and his kind.” Philippa March, wife of George March, Goldvogel’s chief detractor, however, has a tender spot in her heart for Goldvogel and, while the tom-toms are beating omi- nously in the night and, the heat being so intense, Goldvogel is guzzling cnough whiskey to warm up a whole 0 Byrd expedition, pays a el visit to his bungalow. “I for ever doubted breathes. “You are isunderstood man. Can you fe Just as Goldvogel, with his white silk shirt bared to the Adam’s apple, is mag- nanimously about to accept the sweet- meat’s apology, in strides her hus- band, with gun. “You cur!" he pro- claims and—bing!—Goldvogel bites the dust. In the next 2 of course, Goldvogel—"‘it was ¢ teh” turns up nand Philippa, after a couple of sour reflections on men of her husband's stamp, prepares to de- part with him. This magnificence is duly embel- lished with such epigrams as “Pipe- smokers expect little and sce nothing.” profoundly enunciated by the bored wife, with the scene wherein the hero dines alone and, having set his table for two and placed thereon his inamo- rata’s favorite flowers, sentimentally addresses the empty chair as if his heloved were present, and with the ro’s choked utterance upon her ap- having she ly a se pearance, “ Not words, for words ar that look in your eyes tha all In other words, and begging the Warner Brothers’ pardon, hogwash. * 8 Jxumwe the Warner Brothers, the Minsky Brothers are not inter- ested in moving pictures. The only thing moving that fascinates them is a female abdomen. Accordingly, one of the brothers, Billy by name, has lately brought the hoochie-coochie art up- town and installed it in the Republic Theatre. The entertainment, for a reason one can’t entirely make out, is called “Fanny Fortson in Paris.” Mr. Jonathan Cape, the illustrious London publisher and a great devotee of the fine arts, assisted me in a scholarly passing of judgment upon the exhibi- tion. The humor of the entertainment, Mr. Cape, after mature deliberation has assured me, is somewhat deficient. 16 tells me ARE: NATHAN ‘The comedy scenes are credited in th: program to the “Liquor-Sham Con mittee.” which Mr. Cape observes is pretty darn discou t the start Then there is a character named Mis In-O-Cents, another named The Sens: Or, a Chinaman called Chow Chow and a quartet listed as Tenor, First Base, Short Stop and Left Field. Mr Cape protests that this isn’t so very funny. There is also a rendition of “Body and Soul,” at the conclusion of street-cleaner comes out and presents the singer with somethi delicate out of his rubbish-can. Mr Cape couldn't laugh at this, nor was he greatly amused, he reports, at th: leading comique’s constant allusion to the soubrette you dirty son-of-a gun.” But th zirls diverted Mr. Cape, especi the fat one Then there was th one, too. And let's not forget the one who was just medium. As for me, it is a sufficiently known fact that nothing amuses ‘me but Ibsen, Strindberg and plays in the inal Hindu. 8 * T re or four music shows called The Gang’s All Here” opened at the Imperial the other night. One of them was quite diverting, but the others got in its way so much that the net result of the evening was pretty flat. Which is to say that if the MM Green and Gensler had laid in a car load of blue-pencils they might hav« had a good show material to give and “Back to start of seve: y had enough Strange Interlude Methuselah” a head al hours and still outrun them b; uple of days and, when the time came to raise their curtain. hadn't done anything about it. As » consequence, what entertaining stufl they had was completely buried under the avalanche—a lot of it very rocky —and the session dragged on inter minably, At least, I assume that it did, for it was still dragging on at twenty minutes of twelve when I mad: my departure. (Continued on page