New Pictures

The Garden of Allah (Alice Terry, Ivan Petrovitch). When Rex Ingram went to work on Robert Hichens' novel* he seemed to be on an easy road to a masterpiece. No expense was spared to send the company into the Sahara, where they filmed a sandstorm rolling the dunes around like waves, strange natives, bowing down to weird customs, priests of Allah calling from minaret to God.

The two principals are a young Trappist (Christian) monk who burst his cell and his vows for the world and a young Englishwoman who sought the desert to escape from the world and its strife. They marry, spend their honeymoon in a desert caravan. She, ardent Catholic, knows nothing of his sacrilege. He, ardent lover, dares not tell. When conscience has extorted a confession, she returns him to his monastery and God, betaking herself to the Garden of Allah, gem of the desert, where their courtship began and her days will end. It is a strangely dignified conclusion for a cinema, making regret all the keener that the reels of beautiful pictures have no dramatic motion to make their unrolling a fascination.

Hula (Clara Bow). In this film, Paramount proudly advertises its vivacious actress as the "IT" girl. Never was actress in more desperate need of that celebrated quality. She must portray an Irish-born girl, "gone native" in Hawaii despite the fact that her father, a wealthy planter, entertains at his uproarious carousals the smartest Hawaiian society. Among the constant company is a slim siren of sophisticated manner. This only makes it harder for primitive Hula to capture the cold Englishman engineer who shaves every day, even in the jungle. To add to her difficulties, the thin-lipped Nordic already has a wife, who refuses a divorce. The artless child overcomes all these obstacles, in spite of the fact that until the last reel, she wears no Parisian gowns but appears only on horseback, in the jungle swimming pool, in a hula custume, or (when her dog scampers into the Englishman's room and she gives chase) in a kimono. Divorce is forthcoming when the wife is tricked into believing her husband penniless. All this receives, and certainly needs, enormous "IT", for the scenario is sick unto death.

*The novel, The Garden of Allah, sold to over a million copies. Made into a play in 1911 by the author in collaboration with Mary Anderson (actress-author), it ran for two seasons in the Century Theatre, Manhattan; for three seasons in London.