Evening star., 1932-09-11

NelOptu ACW 1dChCU' 4AlAo
is a sound, sensible bit of
business which threatens to
put at least one or two up on
Mother Stage. It's efficacy was
proved here in Washington a few
weeks ago, where, at the clapplng
of the hands of the astute city
manager of the Loew forces (Car-
ter Barron), something in the
way of a novelty was introduced.
It all came about when at a pre-
view of the John Gilbert film,
Downstairs" a group of local re-
viewers, somewhat invigorated by
its novelty at the outset, began to
grow more and more unhappy as
the yarn progressed. Unhappy, too,
was the local Loew generaliSSimo,
since he must have felt the
shrinking appetites all around him
and the general spirit Of depres-
sion that set in when, for in
stance, in the last few snatcheS
of this film Mr.. Gilbert, as a
smooth faced, two-faced rogue
(smiling calamity under a chauf-
feur'S bonnet) plunged into
wine vat and was drowned as un-
tremendously as a rat.
Mr.. Barron, pink checked
inajordomo of three vital links in
this city'S theatric nucleus, said
to himself: This will never dol"
And he wondered why a film
which had so much that was good
about it should thus teeter off and
become a somber saga of un-
healthy mien which in its final
shrieking point uttered loud and
somewhat nasty yoWl. The sight
of Mr.. Gilbert immersed in a gar
gantuan wine vat, giving himself
up to the devil, was not the sort
of thing which would appeal to
the vast majority of film-goerS,
Mr.. Barron argued. And his argu-
ments proved right.
Only last week in the shadow
of Beacon Hill (Boston) this re-
viewer, in fit of holiday leniency,
was enticed into a cinema pa
vilion, where unbeknownSt to him
the feature film was Downstairs"
After a long and somewhat salts
lying sleep, punctuated by a wax
ing growl at the thought of hav-
ing to see Mr.. Gilbert go down the
wine vat again, he was startled
to find that, in spite of the fact
that the wine vat appeared, Mr..
Gilbert had apparently nothing to
do with it. Having told his near
relation (who had taken him to
this "talkie~ to beware of the
tragedy at the near end, he was
more than surprised to find that
no such tragedy occurred. In the
ultimate climax, Mr.. Gilbert was
not only not in the vat, but he
was breathing merrily out in the
sunshine and smiling glibly before
the also smiling countenance of
Karen Morley.
Where is your tragedy?" asked
the equally surprised relation, who
had enjoyed the f1eeting vision of
Gilbert being pursued by Paul
Lukas' foot up the flight of stairs.
L thought you said Gilbert was
drowned"
He was drowned when 7 saw
it."
The near relation looked at us
somewhat askance-and walked
out of the theater asking other
and more personal questions.
Back in Washington the re-
viewer fled to the giant Offices of
Mr.. Barron. Didn't Gilbert get
mixed up in a wine vat in Down
stairs'?"
Mr.. Barron smiled. "He did
when you saw it. But he didn't
when it was shown at the Fox
Theater."
What happened?"
Mr.. Barron relaxed, sat back in
his Office swivel chair, seemed to
enjoy the confusion that his Wis
ltor was in, and expounded on
what had happened.
1t seems that after viewing
Downstairs" he wired the home
office. Send me another end
Ing" he said. They did. Within
48 hours Mr.. Gilbert was definite
ly out of the wine vat and as alive
and kicking as he has always
been. Large audiences at the local
theater were. never aware that he
suffered a more unpleasant fate
when the picture was first re-
leased. That when it was re-
viewed, for instance, by this de-
partment the reviewee was writ
ing about other events than were
actually taking place at the mo-
ment.
Two endings-that's the new
Hollywood racket! And a good
one at that. In sections of the
country where tears are known to
predominant "a popular paStime
now, Mr.. Gilbert, floundering
around in a pre-death fit, prob