CINEMA

Three Little Pigs (Walt Disney) is the latest Silly Symphony in color. It shows two disgraceful pink porkers lazily building themselves shacks out of straw. A wolf blows their houses down. The lazy pigs have a more industrious brother who has just completed a brick mansion, in which he allows them to take refuge. When the wolf attempts to huff & puff this house down, he fails ignominiously. He then tries to climb down the chimney. The lazy pigs are alarmed. The industrious pig builds a roaring fire, singes the wolf's tail.

Two young men who like horses better than hogs were especially pleased by Three Little Pigs. The process that made the porkers pink was Technicolor and the two pleased young men were the cousins John Hay ("Jock") Whitney and Cornelius Vanderbilt ("Sonny") Whitney, who last week announced that they had bought a substantial share of Technicolor Motion Picture Corp.

Color, a moot subject in Hollywood for the last 20 years, still engages the attention of cinema engineers though most major producers are skeptical about using it except on rare occasions.

King Kong (RKO). A cinema producer (Robert Armstrong), his leading lady (Fay Wray), his first mate (Bruce Cabot) and their entourage visit a remote Pacific island to make a nature picture. The natives seize Fay Wray, tie her up as a sacrifice to their god, King Kong. He is a gigantic whatnot resembling an ape, 50 feet tall, equipped with large teeth and a thunderous snarl. He picks up Fay Wray in one hand as though she were a frog and shuffles off through the jungle, breaking trees and grunting.

It might seem that any creature answering the description of Kong would be despicable and terrifying. Such is not the case. Kong is an exaggeration ad absurdum, too vast to be plausible. This makes his actions wholly enjoyable. This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.