Life — November 4, 1926 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

“The Temptress” HERE has been a rumor going I the rounds to the effect that the editor of this department is afflicted with malignant senility. I have heard the phrase, “hardening of the critical arteries,” applied to my work. I am getti id new gencration of c to wave the red flag of rebe through the well-ordered streets of Hollywood. Well—let it be so. I shall retire to my den and, my faithful old St. Bernard at my side, shall gaze into the dying embers and muse on the days when I and the art of motion- pictures were young. But before I effect this- retreat, I just want to go on record as saying that Greta Garbo, in “The Temptress,” knocked me for a loop. HAD seen Miss Garbo once be- fore, in “The Torrent,” and had been mildly impressed by her visual effectiveness. In “The Temptress,” however, this effectiveness proves positively devastating. She may not be the best actress on the screen—I am powerless to formulate an opin- ion on her dramatic technique—but there is no room for argument as to the efficacy of her allure. Miss Garbo is cast here in an il -4_ Ad obvious vampire réle in an obvious vampire melodrama. She is supposed to ruin one strong man after another, until she collides with that immov- ably virtuous object which ulti- mately obstructs the paths of all bad women on the screen. Thus situated, Miss Garbo yields not an inch to the rubber-stamped, blue-printed traditions. She man- ages to remain real, and, in doing so, makes the surrounding story, and the surrounding cast, look indeserib- ably silly. Which is just as they should look. “The Temptress” is a lavish, lux- urious picture, with all known forms of audience appeal; some of its scenes, as directed by Fred Niblo, are good. It would, however, be pretty dreadful were it not for the individual and unassisted efforts of Greta Garbo, who qualifies herewith as the official Dream Princess of the Silent Drama Department of Lire. “Kid Boots” HE wide-eyed Eddie Cantor has entered the picture “game” and, unlike many of his brethren of the musical comedy world, has made good in a big way on the screen. “Kid Boots” is an exceedingly comic picture, in which Mr. Cantor himself by no means plays a lone THE SILER fa DRAMA Ff pote tae bE, hand. He is fine, and so is Clara Bow, and so are the innumerable gags developed by the director, Frank Tuttle. There is littie else to be said about “Kid Boots,”. except that it has a plot which, if not always visible to the naked eye, is still a plot. “The Ace of Cads” UTHER REED, who directed Adolphe Menjou in “The Ace of Cads,” had never directed a picture before; indeed, the results of his labors on this film justify the sus- picion that he had never even seen a picture before—at least, not for ten years or so. “The Ace of Cads” is as thor- oughly inexpert a piece of work as I have viewed since I forget when. In photography, lighting, composition and construction it resembles one of those screamingly amusing home- made movies that one shows to the guests after dinner. Even the adroit Mr. Menjou is allowed to look amateurish and clumsy at times. The story for this masterpi the way, was prepared by Michael Arlen, who used to w Tite those quaint, lavender-scented novels that Grandma read when she was a R. E. Sherwood. The Better Ole. Syd Chaplin as Old Bill in_a rousing slapstick comedy of the Tommies behind the front. Gigolo. Post-war upheavals in Paris, enlivened by the splendid work of Rod La Rocque. It Must Be Love. Colleen Moore is in it, so it must be good. Tin Gods. Thomas Meighan and Renée Adorée are excellent in one of those “gripping” dramas. The Waning Sex. Making merry at the expense of the emancipated woman— and not so very merry, at that. You'd Be Surprised. Raymond Grif- fith has some great moments in this, but they are too far apart. Diplomacy. Deep-dyed intrigue of the E. Phillips Oppenheim school, directed by Marshall Neilan. Hold That Lion. Douglas Maclean in a series of strenuous antics, most of which are funny. The Strong Man. Harry Langdon is literally above praise. So This Is Paris. A bit too much effort by Ernst Lubitsch to be dazzlingly clever, Don Juan. John Barrymore gets a half-nelson on Lucrezia Borgia. The Show-Off. An honorable achiéve- ment by Ford Sterling, as star, and Mal- colm St. Clair, as director. Recent Developments Battling Butler. A ring-side re nugh- house, with Buster Keaton fannier than Mare Nostrum In case you had for- gotten about those nasty U-boats, here they are again. One Minute to Play. Red Grange as the first athlete that ever made good oa the screen. Ben-Hur. A great deal of scenery, with Ramon Novarro at the bottom of it Aloma of the South Seas. Gil Gray’s appearance in this ought to doa lot to stimulate the sale of pipe tobacco. Beau Geste, The Scarlet Letter, The Black Pirate, Variety and The Big Parade. Still the best available. comicbooks.com