New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-08-31
Griffith Gives the
Actor His Chance

what a conductor is nor what in the
world he is asking US for we think we
have had successful afternoon. 1t
may not seem so to the conductor, but
what we have had is a vital adventure
in sympathy. Beside this, neither
prejudices, nor mannerisms, nor vol
canic eruptions matter a ncrap. Pict-
ures used often to given it to US. We
used to think that pictures had been
born to convey its pure, uncorrupted,
essence, freely, fully and forever,
straight into the heart of the crowd.
Where are the dreams that we dreamed
long ago, long, long ago, long ago?
Well here in this strange picture is
the gist of them. From the moment
when the girls faith snatches a be-
trothal out of her perilous love and she
and the boy kiss each other good right,
on through the days when she visits
him in prison with the news-which
they both feel to be happy news-that
she is to bear his child, and through all
the further struggles Of these humble
creatures against the loaded dice of
society, there pours forth so deep and
true a stream of pure feeling that it
speaks as music speaks, not only for
the individuals who voice it, but for the
whole human inheritance of emotion
which they represent. Here, in short,
is the essential Imagination through
which, without words, without the spe-
cial interests of framed ideas, that
which is dumb and universal finds
voice. To have that imagination, to
show US suffering, hope, bewilderment,
fcrtitude, sick fear, the gayety that
thrives on crust and dreams sweet
dreams with a stone for a pillow, so
that we look at them face to face as we
do here without the consciousness of
any medium whatever between us and
them, this is what we mean by being a
director of moving pictures.
Mae Marsh's Genius Shines
And of actors. Mr.. Griffith, more
than any man we know of, writes for
actors or, let us say, acting. That is,
he thinks in emotions, not in nara
tive of incident. The incidents are con-
trived to provoke and reveal the emo
tons; the narrative, whether roughly or
superbly built, is q secondary consld-
Grafton. Actors appear to such extra
ordinary advantage in his pictures be-
cause there they are given opportunl-
ties to do the things for the sake Of
doing which they became actors. The
latter part of 'The Mother and the
Law" is composed almost entirely of
these things. Miriam Cooper's per.
Torrance alone would swallow up two
or three ordinary star parts, and all
those scenes before the execution which
any other producer than Mr.. Griffith
would do, if he could bring himself to
do them at all, as mere shilling shock
crs are here made humanity luminous
for us with the sheer beauty of Mr.
Harron's playing. After all, there have
been mornings before executions in the
history of this world, and men have
suffered them. What, then, of the mems
wives? Now we have got round to Mae
Marsh and are trying to be cur5ed ane
, reasonable and judicial and feel the re
verse of any great confidence in oul
success.
What are we to say about per
Torrance like this? Take the momen
when she risks everything on her low
er's goodness and unlocks the doc
for that good night kiss, the momen
:. when she realizes that the women t.
whom she has been happily showing
> i her baby have come to take
away, the wave of her. hand throug
, the window to the other woman's bah
J, and her look when she stands besd
$ the little coffin of her own. Wher
:, shall you surpass the smile she send
y her husband before the jury's verde
y is pronounced or that stare with whic
she sits before her clock the mornin
E that he is to die and watches tn
. hands moving to the hour? There al
+ times when the pure poetry of he
: lifted look strikes into your heal
like song; there are times like ths
q when the judge refuses to give bac
d her child, when she is such a dsrepl
X table horror of living fury that sf
o might have been fished up out of tt
e primeval mud with which she is bel
It upon besmearing us all before 81
o screams and filings and strangles he
d self down into it again. Surely, thel
lr never was a little face which cou
1T so look at one moment younger tina
>; the dews of tomorrow morning ar
le the next as old as the trouble of maj
We kind. This is the girl whom we hay
~ since watched playing little ngen,
tn parts in pretty frocks; if there is an
+ one as weary as we are of SEER
II, genius trying to find at least a Ike
lie hole to squirm through, here he ms
as see it come into it's own.
Therefore, we easily forgive II
8 slough of happiness which everybot
lis rolls in at last, except for one thin
lis Not one memory of the dead bah,
to Only another baby, who has apparent
ly wiped him quite out! Talk about Gri
~