Cinema: The New Pictures Nov. 25, 1929

Seven Faces (Fox). As a short story Richard Connell’s “A Friend of Napoleon” was awarded several prizes by juries who admired its light irony and neat construction. As a talking picture the pointed anecdote has been turned into a pointless but mechanically interesting vaudeville act for Paul Muni. He plays with gusto many parts—Napoleon, Joe Cans, Franz Schubert, Don Juan, Diablero—all waxworks in the gallery presided over by old Papa Chibou, also played by Muni. Brilliant as this charading is, it hurts the picture. You are too preoccupied with physical aspects of Muni as Chibou leaning on Muni as Napoleon to be concerned with the sentiments involved. Once all the wax Munis come to life in a dream and tell sleeping Caretaker Muni how to straighten out the interrupted romance of two young people who used to meet in the gallery. A lot of film is wasted on this romance. Dana Burnet’s dialog is not convincing. Best shot: Chibou finding out the truth about Napoleon.

Paul Muni grew up traveling with the stock-companies in which his father and mother had parts. When he was 11, they needed someone to play an old man. The thin boy with his piping voice made up well in the part. When he was a little older he worked in art theatres. Sam Harris put him on contract. He made hits in such plays as We Americans and Four Walls. He was pleased with Seven Faces because it gave him a chance to exercise his hobby—facial makeup. He likes fights, football games, concerts, is bored by tennis, can play the violin. His two brothers are professional musicians. He dislikes applause and has his hair cut short so as not to look like an actor. Recently he made another talking picture—The Valiant.

The Love Doctor (Paramount). In the theatre this was The Boomerang, an unpretentious comedy about a doctor and a pretty nurse. As a talking picture built around that able farceur Richard Dix, it is satisfactory entertainment—even at times uproarious. It may be fairly evident when the doctor tells his nurse how to arouse the symptoms of love in a patient that she is going to practice the knowledge on him, but obviousness rather accentuates than spoils the comedy. Best shot: Dix telling his fiancée about his new job at the lunatic asylum.

Footlights and Fools (First National). In wigs and short silk dancing clothes, against elaborate colored settings Colleen Moore plays a French actress in love with a race-track tout. The wandering story is handled in the superficial awkward way common to films in which the plot is merely a series of hooks for hanging up songs and dances. It is unfortunate under the circumstances that Colleen Moore has little singing voice and cannot dance. A typical Irish-American girl, spontaneous and convincing in parts that are natural to her, she is clearly uncomfortable in Footlights and Fools. Silliest shot: Miss Moore coming down into the audience to hug a tired business man.

Shanghai Lady (Universal). The suggestion of toughness in Mary Nolan’s pouting, blonde good looks is well capitalized in this picture. She is a fancy lady who has been kicked out of the worst joint in Shanghai but who pretends to be refined when she meets a handsome gentleman on a train. The gentleman (James Murray) is a crook who has escaped from a Chinese prison. He copies Nolan’s respectable front. Even dull directing, bad dialog and indifferent recording fail to blot out something touching and terrible in their momentary romance. Best shot: tea for two in a Chinese private dining room.

Romance of the Rio Grande (Fox). One of the things sound pictures can do most effectively is make portraits of unfamiliar places. In spite of its melodramatic story and the pidgin-English used by the characters, Romance of the Rio Grande is a highly atmospheric account of the routines of a big Mexican rancho, its noises, difficulties, fiestas. Baxter and Moreno, respectively grandson and nephew of the ranch owner quarrel to see who inherits the layout. A new girl named Mona Maris has a shrill voice and wiry body that suit her role as an orphan-pensioner living on the rancho.