ON THE SCREEN

Ladies' Mirror, Volume I, Issue 8, 1 February 1923, Page 44

ON THE SCREEN

Among the Film Stars

of the most interesting pictures coming to New Zealand is “The Doll’s House.” It is adapted from Ibsen’s famous play, and the leading part is played by Nazimova. Mary Pickford is delightful in “Little Lord Fauntleroy.” Clad in velvet and lace, with a background of the stately old Dorincourt Castle, with its wonderful wood carvings and magnificent trees, she looks as though she might have stepped out of one of the old oil paintings in the picture gallery. Those who enjoyed “Carnival”—the stupendous English production—will be interested to know that the same company have produced “The Bohemian Girl,” which will be shown at the Strand Theatre, Auckland, in the near future. In quaint old crinolines and poke bonnets, Norma Talmadge wins all hearts in “Smilin’ Through.” Many of the scenes are set in a beautiful garden—the sort of garden one plans and dreams about, but seldom sees. Many of the twilight and night scenes were photographed out of doors at night with the aid of newly-invented lights. Night photography is one of the latest scientific inventions. Elinor Glynn is going to produce a picture that will give a true insight into the characters of the Hollywood community; just her contribution towards the proof that the very large majority of screen folk are decent, respectable citizens, home lovers, and as good parents as the rest of us! The motion picture studio provides work of many kinds for women. One girl started in the motion picture business immediately after leaving high school. She had a good teacher —D. W. Griffith. For six years she worked under Mr. Griffith’s guidance, starting at the bottom of the ladder as a film “patcher,” and quietly and gradually ascended the various rungs of the ladder to inspector, then negative cutter, then positive cutter — until at the time she left Mr. Griffith she was in complete charge of

print production for all of the Griffith masterpieces. It was her duty not only to inspect these films, but to cut the negative and positive prints, arrange shipment, keep tab on all prints made and sent —in fact, take general charge of the developed film. Just Pretending! by Norma Talmadge T>RETENDING is my profession—as it is of every actress. In one film I pretend I am a daughter of the underworld. In another I am the smart wife of a New York banker. In a third I must persuade myself I am the gay-hearted child of an Irish gentleman. My success with critics and public depends upon my ability to make these pretenses seem real — to make them seem real not only to myself but to others. I came to the studio the other day discouraged over a new role. I couldn’t pretend it to suit myself. “It doesn’t come, somehow, that character,” I said to my mother. “Pretend harder,” she advised. “Pretend the way you and Constance used to when you were children. Pretend with all your soul, the way you used to when you were Mary, Queen of Scots, in one of my old dresses, and the children of the neighbourhood had to pay six pins to see you. Look!” she interrupted. The electrician’s youngest daughter, aged five, was playing by herself in the dark corner of an empty set. A piece of coloured cheesecloth fell from her head to the floor, trailing behind her tiny feet like a train. She strutted proundly. “Who are you pretending to be, dear?” I asked. “I’m not pretending!” she said loftily. “I am a princess.” “1 believe you,” I admitted gravely. “And thanks for your advice on my new role. Mother, good actresses and children don't merely pretend. They actually believe!”