text: EMMIMM Jk MK Mill Rjß KSKRiP- - Hfß fc 'w ■ JM ■ 9H^K^lp :'"'\ H||b& - -,flK K I wHBH < /•, > w sMM|i Bfe*wi*S|sw-'' "'''' " : y / “Il MSI z'•, p / '' 'V/ ” '^ i '/ v'• i' '"~ '\z ~ ■ i - 4 *•',v.} I <^( ’*^ - '^^■>>^^" nn > / »■•>- w.- -. v - E.. py -”l •.?r / of as/«/a^>*-*MWta UB w-. gMWMßßßljrX'g^* W'-®a-* ■^" i^3^i *T coluamma. r=i | J'M®l Jif!?!* °/j Ha * r typwft ISP a/ifej* tivou ■'■-■■■■■■■■-■■-■- BUMPER CROP OF STARS IN MET’S NEW FILM, “SINGLE WIVES” Much of interest to both the stage and screen attaches to the east to be seen in “Single Wives” At Crandall's Metropolitan Theater all next week and at the Ambassador through Tuesday. Corinne Griffith, Milton Sills, Lou Tellegen, Kathlyn Williams, Henry B. Walthall, Phyllis Haver, and Phillips Smalley have played important parts in the stabilizing of the newest form of dramatic expression. Miss Griffith, just now at the peak of her popularity, began her public career as a dancer, won a beauty contest in her home city of New Orleans and for years was a featured player in Vitagraph productions without creating the sensation that brought her to conspicuous stardom in “Black Oxen” and of the Fiel. Milton Sills is a Chicagoan, who in addition to having been college professor devoted eight years to stage work before entering the motion picture field. Lou Tellegen, protege of Bernhardt and recent husband of Geraldine Farrar, grand opera diva, is of French-Dutch ancestry and came to this country with the divine Sarah from his home in the then Germanic province of Alsace-Lorraine. He was seen in this city at Keith’s. Mention of the name of Kathlyn Williams takes the veteran film fan back to the days of the first screen serial, “The Adventures of Kathlyn,” and Henry B. Walthall’s name and fame are inseparably linked with Griffith’s masterpiece, “The Birth of a Nation?” Just as Miss Williams’ name recalls the early serial, so does Phyllis Haver's revive recollections of the Mack-Sennett bathing girl. Phillips Smalley, now an actor again, had much to do with the success of the Lois Weber productions which he directed in cooperation with his wife. All of these celebrated mimes, Cordial Contract of Mr. Irving and Mr. TREE Harry Irving, of the company playing the Belasco, and who has attracted attention through his clever interpretations, received his early training in the old reliable school of Shakespeare, playing with Beerbohm Tree and also with the Ben Grube Players. Mr. Irving tells an interesting story of his meeting with Sir Herbert Tree. The company was assembled when Tree walked on the stage just as it came to his big scene and without ado introduced his rehearsals. The company was then presented to him. When he came to Mr. Irving, Sir Herbert said, "Um," and scrutinized him with his penetrating blue eyes. "Um," he said again, "not so tall as some one I used to know, nor as old, but I think I’ll like you better." He went on thoughtfully, "once I had an lining for a rival, but now I have one working for me — and I believe I’ll make you work hard. I would not be surprised, in fact, if you were in my company for quite some time." And Mr. Irving was under contract to Sir Herbert Tree from then on to the time of his death in London. I have roles in the play commensurate with their recognized abilities. THE GATE-POST Harold If Meyer Davis lived in England he would probably be knighted for his untiring efforts to reduce the country's postal deficit. Happening, in on an impromptu rehearsal of one of his newest bands a month ago, Mr. Davis murmured. "This is terrible. There ought to be a new name for jazz!" Forthwith the super-multi-billionaire Orchestra owner summoned his steward and ordered him to separate from the exchequer one bag of pistoles to the equivalent of $100 in American money, current exchange, f.o.b. “I will ask the great Amer ican nation, which has never failed in any crisis, to suggest another name for what trom bonists are blowing hell-bent out of those trumpets,” he re solved on the now familiar spur of the moment. The contest was duly an nounced and its result brought into emergency duty the sixth, seventh and eighth assistant postmasters general, whose duties heretofore confined them to insuring an adequate supply of non-writing pens for the counters. Nearly half a million p'eople replied, submitting 700,000 rivals, for the valiant little word now battling with its back against the wall. ,♦ • ♦ , Hysteria may strut its occa sional hour, faddism and fa naticism may thrive a justly -temporal span but, mark you with all the vehemence in your wardrobe, the moral and in tellectual safety of the nation can be found parked under the v TOE WASHINGTON TIME 3 > * TS« Natton<rt Oagy * '• t'- SATOBDAY, AVGUST 2, 19 M. gwioMiwai ■■>■■■■■ ■MBOMgagiißMßßigimimi ■ ■ ■ ai imiiiiu>| i DRAMA IBS PICTURES P g ~g Mm K v .' '-’.\' ' " k, •• : >.■' ' - v/. t JMSgiWr t I S'deshouJ palace. ta.giw z,m MR w» ji S mJ y M,, Ast— ’*• i " ! :> l^/’-..' Mm Wi fl k aS W ■W fljWwa I Mi—> j Bfl '''"' f MNOHAM r '•• ; W fl h: STAND. NO, W B •- i K. 1 jgWi £si£LiE tmlor, ta B «»- >.' !.'■' uwst w g »ui lotfets M fchMfWM IwWf' * < x ► reading lamp in thousands of homes so long as the papers run cross-word puzzles or enterprising individuals offer to pay for exhibitions of our stupidity. “Nearly half a million” is a great number of people. Apart from the ridiculous picture they would make if laid end to end and viewing the purely statistical side, a rapid calculator could prove that they would stretch from the Washington monument to well into December. There are two ways of viewing this hypothetical landscape of starving intellectuals. One is to assert they might have been better employed—such as in the mending of screen doors (a great many of which must be out of whack along about now); mowing the lawn, boiling hops against the great vendor drought or writing letters to the newspapers. The more charitable and logical view is that Mr. Davis’ contest has been a short but bountiful boon to the race. What mischief might these people be up to during those minutes and hours they were so employed? Among the most likely names which Mr. Davis passes on to Variety and which Variety passes to me without permission, are Fron, Melody Rhythmic, Rhythmic-reverie, Rhapsodoon, Rigsody, Peppo, Ufon, Exilera (from Philadelphia); Hades Harmonies (from Cleveland); Syncodavis, Joghop, Financial, Merryhop, Paradise, Syncosway, Gudeola, Swazee, En Cadence, Syncomelo, Mah Song, Gee, Miss, Melojings, Besto music. Over 2,000 letters thought “joy music” the best substitute for jaza. The contest is open until August 15. Readers of this column, upon applying personally with paid receipts to show they are subscribers, will be permitted to avail themselves of the following suggestions not thus far submitted: Podsnappery, Ods Bodkins. “Just a Real Good Car,” and many others. As an impressionist onlooker, I have jotted down from time to time some of the most obvious and redundant cities of the movies. In a year of spasmodic picture viewing, I have garnered about six. Now comes Tamar Lane, West Coast critic, with sixty or more, some of which I take the liberty of pilfering because it’s terribly warm and there’s no news anyway. DOGMAS OF THE MOVIES. That an ignorant young hoyden can become perfectly mannered after a few weeks of tennis and midnight supper parties at Mrs. Smithers' Boarding School. That anyone may commit a perfect forgery, providing he can secure the necessary pen and ink. That all district attorneys are conscientious and energetic in their effort to punish graft and crime. That there are always two or three policemen on hand in an emergency. That all dissolute young men from the East make good when they have been sent West “to the open spaces.” That under the bright lights of Broadway is the only place where a girl can go wrong. That it is possible to actually see through a keyhole what is transpiring in the next room. That the sole occupation of cowboys is not tending cattle, but lapping up liquor in the Lone Star. That a man, to be a hero, must be at least six feet tall, have a Marcel and beaded eyelashes. That no husband is aware his wife is about to become a mother until he discovers her knitting a pair of booties. That newsboys never carry more than five papers. That persons, being struck with an idea, always look off into space a few seconds, suddenly smile, slap the table and exclaim, “I have it!” That individuals dry very soon after emerging from the water. That innocent persons always pick up the revolver after the crime and hold on to it until the police arrest them for the crime. That all country maidens are innocent. That no man of villainous nature is ever blonde or smooth shaves. That all burglars replace their loot and immediately reform upon little Willie’s awakening and walking in upon the intruder in his night gown. That there are no ordinary men in the Sahara desert, all Arabs being sheiks. That persons always fall violently to the ground no matter in which part of the anatomy they are shot. That no girl is ever shipwrecked upon a desert island without enough rouge and powder to maintain a perfect make-up. That guns are capable of perpetual firing without reloading. That every wealthy family has a hunting lodge up in the woods. That persons confined to their bed because of illness always look in the best of health and present an attractive appearance. That all members of the fair sex upon retiring for the evening deck themselves out as though for the opera. That persons who are shot in the arm later reappear with their head bandaged. That all heroes when in danger of their lives and being hotly pursued, always take time for a lengthy embrace with their sweet hearts, then slowly look back over their left shoulders, draw themselves up, and then dash off suddenly. (Continued on Page 7) TRIUMPH IN PERFECT COLORING ENHANCES COLUMBIA FILM Just as the alchemists of old sought for the secret of turning base metal into gold, just so have the modern alchemists of the photographic laboratory spent years in search of the mechanical and chemical secrets for turning the conventional black-and-white of photography into the blazing beauty of natural colors. In the end, modern alchemists have succeeded where their ancient brethren failed, for, step by step, color photography has advanced under tremendous obstacles until it has finally reached the place where it is scenically, mechanically and commercially a realized fact even in motion picture work. The best demonstration of this is in the recent production of Irvin Willlat, of Paramount’s first all-color photoplay, “Wanderer of the Wasteland," from the novel by Zens Grey, which will be given its initial local presentation tomorrow at Loew’s Columbia Theater. For a fairly long time real, color-photography had been possible for the still-life field. The problem has been to find some means of obtaining color-sensitive material which would meet the necessarily high shutter speeds of the motion-picture camera. This was overcome in the early Kinema-color process, but another great handicap developed in that process with the tendency of she reds and greens—the primary SOPHIE TUCKER COMES—A CROPPER “I dare not,” runs the old adage, "only let me make its songs.” And this significant remark is open to a number of interpretations, according to Sophie Tucker, the jusque queen, who has recently come back from England, where she spent the summer putting her ebullient self over the footlights of the London Hippodrome. “It’s a fairly safe bet,” says Miss Tucker, who has resumed her tour of Keith vaudeville, and is headlining at B. F. Keith's next week, "that the United States and England will always be allies as long as there is an interchange of entertainers. I don’t know that it’ll make any difference who the ambassadors are, we'll manage to keep up an entente cordial if we can keep on amusing the English public with our jasz." Miss Tucker, who made her English debut early in the summer, scored a decided hit, and won from the London reviewers the subtle compliment of being reviewed in what they fondly believed to be Americanese. Miss Tucker came a cropper on the night of her premiere, when she sang a topical song in which she informed the London Hippodrome audience that the beloved Prince of Wales had sent his card back stage. "I told him," she warbled, "to go away and come back when he was king." This announcement occasioned a mild panic among the Londoners, and the next night Sophie’s program was minus one song. Two Mentioned Studio gossip as reported mentions both James Kirkwood and Milton O'Connell for the role of Christ, "The Life of Christ," which First National will make. Color bands—to run together and merge under certain light conditions. This has finally been eliminated, too. In making "Wanderer of the West," Mr. Willard went one step further. He employed the process on a picture of the strongest dramatic appeal so that the audience would not have to content itself with the mere novelty of color photography. The book itself was purchased with the idea of making a story of it in the conventional photographic medium, but when it was found that it called for outdoor settings amid the flaming beauty of the Painted Desert in Arizona, it was decided to make the whole thing in color. COMPLETE CIRCUS HIRED FOR THIS PICTURE Staging a full-fledged circus for motion-picture purposes is not always quite as easy as it sounds. Under ordinary circumstances, a cameraman is sent to the nearest show, a number of scenes are photographed and are inserted in their proper places in the finished story. Herbert Brennan, the Paramount director, however, encountered a vastly different proposition when he went to produce William J. Locke’s novel, "The Mountebank," which comes to the screen at Loew's Palace tomorrow afternoon for a week’s engagement. In this story, much of the action deals with incidents that occur before, during and after a circus performance. In other words, Brenon was up against the proposition of chartering an entire circus for the picture and as it happened to be circus time when he went to work, he found that it was next to impossible to find a circus that could afford to take the time necessary. Arrangements were finally made to hire an entire troupe including the ancient but noisy hurdy gurdy, the lemonade stands, the enormous tent, the animals and what not. Then the entire outfit was placed on the lot in the rear of Paramount’s Long Island studio, and "The Side Show of Life" was started. Bigger Than Ever Ernest Torrence, already one of the tallest men in motion pictures with his six-feet-three of height, appears as a veritable giant in Herbert Brenon’s production of William J. Locke's novel, "The Side Show of Life," which comes to Loew’s Palace tomorrow. In it, he wears a wig that increases his height to exactly seven feet four inches—truly a gigantic figure as the central figure of a circus ring. 