The New Pictures

If Winter Comes. When the news escaped that William Fox had purchased the rights to A. S. M. Hutchinson's novel, cinema savants shook their heads and commiserated with Mr. Fox. " There is no drama in the plot. Who ever heard of photographing a character sketch? It will go dead!"

Mr. Fox muttered something about " sour Bennies," and proceeded with his work. He followed the intention of the author with explicit accuracy. He left out very little; he interpolated nothing. He went to England for his exteriors. He chose his cast wisely. The sum of his efforts is a curiously fascinating photoplay. Its fascination lies chiefly in its departure from celluloid tradition. It is leisurely; its subtitles almost for the first time in history are tasteful (most of them Hutchinson's own); incident is steadily subordinated to character.

Whether or not this effort at sincerity, simplicity and truth will appeal to the movie millions remains to be seen. It should, however, prove a dose of insulin for cinema diabetes brought on by excesses in the sweet essences of sentimental romance.

The White Sister. Lillian Gish can unquestionably wring more salt water out of the American population than any other cinema actress. There is something about her hopeless wistfulness that squeezes sobs from the coldest heart. She brings this something with her in the present picture. For a good cry--go to The White Sister.

The locale is Italy; the plot rests on a burned will, a departing lover, a nunnery.

Next to the playing of the star the photography chiefly is admirable. The details of cast, direction, arrangement are carefully executed. The picture is consistently worthwhile.

Rosita. Mary Pickford returns to the screen with her clustered curls tucked on top of her head. America's so-called sweetheart becomes thereby America's married sister.

She is currently concerned with the adventures of a vagabond street singer in old Seville. The waif evolves into a countess and falls in love with George Walsh. There is much deep purple atmosphere toward the conclusion, with Holbrook Blinn doing a capable King of Spain.

Mary's charm is enhanced with the advancing years and the disappearing curls.

The Gold Diggers. Some months ago David Belasco jumped overboard from the bridge from which he directs legitimate theatrical enterprise and landed with a huge splash in the midst of the celluloid ocean. He presented--for a considerable consideration--the rights to several of his plays to certain movie impresarios. He stipulated that in their metamorphosis his traditions should be respected rather than those of the gelatine industry. For these things the population is indebted to Mr. Belasco. The Gold Diggers appears much as it appeared on the stage and evolves into that rarest of movie aves--a good, high comedy. The story, as the ninety and nine know, endeavors to establish the proposition that chorus girls are not as wicked as they are wise. Hope Hampton has the Ina Claire part and with it she does well.

Red Lights. Practical jokers occasionally burden their friends with mechanical puzzles which admit of no solution. Likewise Bed Lights. It: is a mechanical mystery with hundreds, so it seems, of detectives. The villain pursues her (Marie Prevost) with strange batteries of crimson electricity. There is no solution.

Ruggles of Red Gap. Critical inquest into the reasons for this picture's being no better than it should be conclude with the finger of suspicion pointing at the scenario-writer. He had an oportunity to adapt what might have proved the best celluloid comedy of the year, but, unfortunately, he judged his own ability superior to that of the original author (Harry Leon Wilson). Out of the wreckage the cinema addict can salvage considerable amusement. If he happens to have read the story he will experience a great wave of pity for the vacant spaces inside the adapter's cranium where lie scattered the wrecks of situations sacrificed.

Cousin Egbert was possessed of a considerable fortune but no table manners. Therefore he was deported to Paris by his socially hopeful relatives and bidden to acquire culture. In the process he takes unto himself a valet and returns with the valet to Red Gap. The premier performance of the piece is given by Ernest Torrence as uncouth Cousin Egbert. Second in command is Lois Wilson.