Life, 1925-12-31 · page 31 of 37
Life — December 31, 1925 — page 31: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two distinct sections: **"The Silent Drama: Recent Developments"** reviews contemporary films—*The Big Parade*, *Stella Dallas*, *The Phantom of the Opera*, and others—noting their stars (Gloria Swanson, Rudolph Valentino, Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks) and quality. This reflects the thriving 1920s silent film industry. **"My Husband Says"** is a humorous column satirizing gender dynamics. It contrasts Victorian-era women (from 1850s *Godey's Lady's Book*) who were graceful, deferential, and industrious with modern 1920s women who demand expensive furs and luxuries. The satire mocks husbands' nostalgic complaints about women's changing expectations, while also critiquing frivolous consumerism and environmental destruction (ermine/squirrel fur coats). The accompanying advertisement shows a whale—"just a few cents make what a whale of a difference"—using animal imagery to sell an unstated product, typical of era advertising.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
(/THE SILENT DRAMA Recent Developments (The regular Silent Drama department will be found on page 24) Stage Struck. Gloria Swanson in- dulges in some wild slapstick, and fairly funny at that. The Big Parade. about a great war. Clothes Make the Pirate. Leon Errol makes his début as a film star in a comedy which is richer in beauty than in humor. The New Commandment. Ham sentiment, ham heart throbs, ham pas- sion—all in the accepted movie manner. The Beautiful City. Good and bad melodrama, with Richard Barthelmess. The Eagle. Rudolph Valentino is dashing and more than usually at- tractive in an involved romance of old Russia. Stella Dallas. The ultimate tear- squeezer, intelligently directed — by Henry King and superbly played by Belle Bennett and Lois Moran, The Phantom of the Opera. Lon Chaney and a great deal of scenery. Seven Keys to Baldpate. A weak solution of George Cohan’s great com- edy, in which Douglas MacLean does his best. Classified. The beautiful Corinne Griffith and some obvious gags. Little Annie Rooney. Mary Pick- ford in an Our Gang comedy. The King on Main Street. Fly farce, with Adolphe Menjou at the top of his form. Lights of Old Broadway. Marion Davies in a dull and inarticulate drama of old New York. Go West. A sad-eyed cow and Buster Keaton. The Merry Widow. Erich von Stroheim's gayest and most entertain- ing production. Don Q. Douglas Fairbanks. R. E. S. Cynic’s Calendar for 1926 January—Christmas bills due. February—Landlord saves two days’ coal. Rotogravure pictures of Society at Palm Beach reach climax. March—Congress. April—Outbursts of poems about “fickle maid of spring.” etc. Easter holidays; children in apartment upstairs home for ten days. May—First warm days. settled June—Wedding presents. July—Detours, hitch-hikers and auto- campers; blossoming of pennants of Hicksville, Siwash, ete. August—Inaugurating greater_ movie season, Beauty contests. September—First cool days. strike begins. October—Campaign speeches. World Series. Notables return from Europe. November—All - American football teams. Election of public officials. December—CHRISTMAS! B.B. A great picture Coal strike Coal 12M. ditherence cents make My Husband Says Tuat he can imagine no more quiet or innocent diversion for me than the study of a seventy-five-year-old copy of Godey’s Lady's Book. I think it is peerlessly fascinating to read of females who greeted visitors with graceful politeness and humility. It also says they did beautiful crewel work at that time. My husband says they have altered considerably in man- ners, but any man will testify they haven't changed tactics in their fancy work, I love to visualize them with soft faces illuminated with grateful, affec- | tionate reverence for their husbands, and framed in puffs of silk, frills of lace and flowing ribbons. Mrs. Smith says they must have looked like guest- room pin cushions, My husband says the ladies of to-day | lowly | prefer a framework of expensive fur, and men must work and animals weep to satisfy their longing. He says the lure of red lights that once shone on a plate of pretzels and a whisky straight never tempted the derelict as lovely woman is tempted by the mellow lights that shine on those beautiful dead things draped over the gilded chairs in shop windows at this time of year. But Mrs. Harde says gray squirrels and ermine would absolutely destroy our forests and menace civilization if, for purely economic reasons, women didn’t wear them. L. B.S. Tourist (to Florida dog breeder): What is the price of that dog? Bretver: Two hundred a front foot. comicbooks.com