The New Pictures

Scaramouche has already been greeted as the finest French Revolution yet brought to the screen--and even if you are a little weary of seeing a strongly American band of sans-culottes demolish a pasteboard Paris, you should not miss Scaramouche, for it is quite the best thing Rex Ingram has done since The Four Horsemen. The story follows Sabatini's novel closely enough--the stroller-swordsman hero (Ramon Navarro) is dashingly effective--the scenes of the storming of the royal palace are incredibly exciting--the Danton of George Siegmann presents, for once, a hero rather than a ranter--Alice Terry is a suave and lovely aristocrat--all in all, here for once, is a super picture that even a press-agent can hardly super-adjective to death.

The Three Ages. Buster Keaton's first long feature is very, very funny --in spots. As a whole it drags a bit and depends a little too much on mechanical tricks for its humor--but the highlights are high enough when they come, to ensure a pleasant evening for almost anyone. The three ages concerned are the Stone Age, the days of the Roman Empire, and the present; the theme: that love is the same no matter in what century you meet it.

The Eternal Three. A saintly doctor (Hobart Bosworth), who believes in doing good to everybody no matter how they feel it, acquires first a nervous breakdown and then, while recuperating, a young and comely bride (Claire Windsor). But when the medico returns to his work, the bride is sort of neglected--and turns, as subtitles say, to the doctor's scamp of an adopted son for light amusement: It is not difficult to guess what happens next and whether the picture ends happily or not.