“BOHEME” AT MAJESTIC

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 376, 9 June 1928, Page 14

“BOHEME” AT MAJESTIC

LILLIAN GISH A PATHETIC MIMI So accustomed have we become in the past to the hefty operatic Mimi, who excells in weight as well as voice, that the Mimi of Lillian Gish, for the nonce, seems strange. We hardly know this slim-waisted

little seamstress, the embroiderer of silks and satins, the lonely little girl who longs for the country. The artificial flowers she makes, Mimi knows full well are not the roses of the- sunshine. John Gilbert played the passionate Rudolfo to the Gisli Mimi when the

opera was presented in its screen version before Majestic patrons last night. The theme is melodramatic in the extreme. As is the case with every opera of note, the story is merely a framework for the music, and Mr. J. Whiteford Waugh’s orchestra deserves every credit for its sympathetic inter - pretaton of the beautiful score. Picturesquely clad in the poke bonnet of the early part of the Nineteenth Century, and the billowy flowing frock; flower bedecked. Etta Field delightfully sang the hauntingly lovely “Quando Me'n vo Soletta per la. Via,” of the bewitching Musetta. Yet the Musetta of the film, played by Renee Adoree, strange to say, was relegated very much to the background. The producer had eyes for none but the tearful Mimi. So accustomed, too. have we become to the tenor grasping the plump hand of the average middle-aged Mimi blythely rendering the while "Che Gelida Manilla.” that it seems strange to meet a heroine in “Boheme” in accordance with the original conception of the composer. Lilian Gish was undoubtedly the most pathetic Mimi in the history of the opera. On the other hand, John Gilbert was the personification of life — and love. No Italian tenor ever worked himself into a frenzy easier than the handsome John. He would not listen to reason, he would brook no excuses. For instance, when he discovered the frock that the flighty and intriguing Musetta had adorned poor Mimi with the enranged Rudolfo tore it to shveds. The gown was in tatters in two seconds. No wonder Mimi had a haemorrhage on the spot, it was more than any woman could bear. Roy D’Arcy was the bold, bad vicomte, only too willing to show pretty seamstresses, embroiderers of silks and satins the downward path. Karl Dane, responsible for another excellent characterisation as the lodging house keeper, also Edward Everett Horton, Gino Corrado, Frank Currier, and George Hassell were in the cast.

The scenic is of special interest this month inasmuch as it assists the New Zealander to explore the old diggings in the Wakatipu region. A novel theme is carefully exploited by the Government Publicty Office in the interwoven story. The film graphically describes the change from pioneering methods to the scientific aparatus in present-day goldmining.

Animals at the zoo pose for youthful students in the Majestic Magazine. As usual the cameramen flit from country to country with dazzling rapidity. From Spanish dancers demonstrating the fandango, we see Old Father Thames in flood; follow the

thrills of ski-ing in Switzerland, bomb derelict ships from the air in the Atlantic. A comedy, “Somewhere in Somewhere,” completes the bill.