TALKIES AND PROGRESS ALL VERY WELL, BUT THE WORLD WANTS MORE SWEETNESS.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18938, 7 December 1929, Page 19 (Supplement)

TALKIES AND PROGRESS ALL VERY WELL, BUT THE WORLD WANTS MORE SWEETNESS .

By DOBOTHY DICKSON (The well-known Actress).

Sometimes during those quiet moments that come to one so unexpectedly that they are flown before one really appreciates them. I find myself thinking of this funny swiftlymoving old world of work, love, laughter, and song. Then it is that I wonder whether it really is better or w'orse than the world our parents thought so wonderful in their time. In the last decade we have advanced so rapidly, and in the last two years, the marvels of radio and the Talkies have caused a sort of peaceful revolution.

Everybody is talking Talkies. I myself am going to take a test, and then —who knows! But all the same, whatever the enthusiasts may say about this new challenge to the theatre, I do not believe it will ever menace it seriously. On the contrary. Now I will explain why. The Talkies are a marvellous new toy. They have broken the magic silence of the films. That magic silence was lovely, because, in the best films, it was fraught with music, and what more artistic representation of life could there be than in the alliance of beautiful photographic scenes of an interesting theme with accompanying music appropriate to the subject projected, and perfectly rendered? 1 think that is the best form of screen art—that ol: the really first-class film that is only part talkie, and in which dialogue and music are successfully blended. A Wonderful Novelty. What I think most of us feel about this latest synthetic sensation is that “it is really wonderful that it can sound as well as it does.” It is still such a wonderful mechanical novelty, that we forget plot, realism, and beauty of action, in the breathless sort of wager with ourselves as to whether the voice and lips of our favourite star will synchronise, or w hether their words will sound as if they emerge from somewhere underground. However, we must be fair to the Talkies, for they are really only in their beginning. They will probably improve beyond imagination, but even so they will never threaten the popularity of the stage. I have met several people who tell me they go to theatres more often since the talkie boom than they ever did before. The reason is obvious. The Talkies have stripped the cinema of illusions. Many of the stars lost their glamour when they found their voices.

There is a hardness about many of the speaking films, as though too much concentration has been devoted to the mechanical side. And talking of hardness and mechan ism, and to get away from Talkies, I want to say something about this hardness now apparent in all spheres of life Hard realism and lack of feeling has been fashionable for so long that people are beginning to grow tired of it. They do not realise it at first, but it is true. They are.

People—women especially—have developed this terrible hardness during the last few years, when the tempo of life increased in speed and strain. Women have progressed rapidly, and at the start of their complete independence they donned their armour of hardness to protect themselves. Now, people vary as much in character as in appearance, and to those who were already quite gently and kindly, this harsh armour became a second nature that merged into their very selves. The others, the really feminine women who were taken by surprise by the sudden rush and freedom, had to follow the tide to get submerged. They could not allow themselves to be trampled on by the advancing army of conquering amazons, so they pretended to be the same. They have succeeded so well, that the general run of men have cried out ever since that all women are so much harder than they ever were before. Are Women Really Hard? But are they? From times immemorial woman has had to be the supreme play-acting creature of the world for motives of expediency. Just as before she schemed to outwit man by her wheddling and tears, so now she competes with him and with her sisters by striking up a fine attitude of hardness, and showing heir iron will. I think she is quite right to pretend to be hard in certain cases, for there are some people who regard true femininity as weakness, and those people of course must be guarded against, so up goes her armour. But she should discriminate. Most intelligent women do these days. The world is hard enough, and it wants more sweetness. People talk very glibly, about beauty, fascination and charm, but they forget that sweetness of disposition encompasses all these qualities. By sweetness I do not mean gush or sugary sentimentality. Both are artificial and nauseating. I mean, that spirit of give-and-take; that kindly capacity of being able to put oneself in the other person’s place even if one does not agree with him. Or again, that unobtrusive intelligence with which some sweet and unassuming women make a success of marriage. They know when to speak, when to be silent; the little word, look, or gesture, that means so much, comes to them—by instinct, or shall I call it unselfishness, or again, sympathy? What People Crave. Most of the really big people—both men and women—l have met, have this quality very highly developed. Perhaps simplicity, directness and yet consideration for other people’s feelings is what has crowned their success. There is a lot of sweetness in the world if we only look for it. Most of us human beings are shy creatures, rather afraid and ashamed at that so seldom mentioned quality, but I do think our rushed and wonderful modern times would be even more wonderful, and certainly more happier, if sometimes we paused in our multitudinous new interests —Talkies, television, radio, and non-stop world flights—and gave our fellow-creatures a little of that sweetness and kindly consideration which they really crave.

(Anglo American N.S. Copyright).