The New Pictures

Lost Gods (Epic). The lecture that goes with this travelog is not particularly good and the photography is only fair, but the material itself is so fascinating that Lost Gods becomes one of the best current illustrations of the educative function of the cinema. It is a record of the expedition, supervised by the Algiers Museum, of the travels in Libya of Archeologist Count Byron Khun de Prorok, whose excavations are made conceivable to non- archeological audiences by the explanation that he is looking for the golden tomb of the White Goddess of the Sahara. Some of the things his camera sees are "the Wall Street of Carthage," a bleak row of empty stone buildings; amphitheatres where the lions of Libya enjoyed Christians; the place where Cato committed suicide; a strange unknown city called the City of Fear, buried in the middle of the Sahara. The houses of this city, built in a country where in modern times rain never falls, were made entirely of sand and mud and stood eight stories high. There is a palace equipped with a complete heating plant; in the tomb of a dancing girl buried 2,000 years ago are a vanity case, a variety of rouges, mirrors, jewels, phials of perfume; 7,000 vases contain the skeletons of children sacrificed to some forgotten god; in a golden tomb lies the skeleton of a dead white woman who was part queen and part divinity. As Count de Prorok's party cross the desert in specially equipped cars-- they meet a contemporary Caucasian tribe whose beautiful women wear no veils but whose men veil their faces and use rouge from boyhood.

Anybody's War (Paramount). This rambling comedy involving two colored men ("Moran & Mack") and a Sealyham terrier in the U. S. Army is quietly and deftly directed by Richard Wallace. Other pictures like this have often degenerated into a series of disconnected gags, but Wallace keeps the action moving along, and when nothing else is happening entertains the spectator simply by his manipulation of photography. The activities of the dog-catcher of Buford, Tenn., his dog Deep Stuff and his best friend, persuaded to join by a recruiting sergeant who mentions easy eating, sleeping and band music, seem to have humorous possibilities. But Anybody's War is only mildly funny. The trouble is partly the interjection of an unnecessary lovestory, and partly that Bert Swor, who takes Moran's old part in the team, acts merely as a feeder to Mack. Best shot: X-ray of a stomach containing a pair of dice and a fishhook.

The team of George Searcy (Moran) and Charles E. Sellers (Mack) worked together in vaudeville and revues for twelve years. They were famed as the leading blackface 'pair in the U. S. long before the rise of Freeman F. Gosden (Amos) and Charles J. Correll (Andy), who two years ago earned $100 a week and who this year received a guarantee of $350,000 for their forthcoming RKO picture, Check and Double Check. Although the Moran & Mack badinage lacked continuity, some critics still think that Moran & Mack were much funnier than Amos 'n Andy. Last December Moran broke up the team. He said Mack was paying him only $200 a week with a $50 bonus, and $150 for each phonograph record, though the team was averaging $5,000 a week with their famed lines about the early bird, about olives, about "very close" veins, about Adam & Eve. A Los Angeles court ruled that Mack, as originator and owner of the team, had complete right to adjust Moran's salary and to use the team name in billboards. Moran & Mack have had a regular radio job only once--20 weeks on the Majestic Hour program in 1928 at $2,500 per week. Amos 'n Andy put radio work before all other calls on their services and are guaranteed $100,000 per year by National Broadcasting Co.

The Dawn Patrol (First National). People who are amused at the way rival producers imitate each other's masterpieces, do not always realize the salutary effect of this convention of plagiarism on the industry at large. Undoubtedly The Dawn Patrol was influenced, even frankly inspired, by Journey's End. Undoubtedly also it is a better picture, because its devisers have stuck to their model, than it would have been if they had depended on independent inspiration. It is a War picture dealing with aviators, but the usual framework of such efforts has been drawn into a tense believable story, without a woman in the cast, without formal plot, without undue sentimentality. The action concerns Richard Barthelmess' dislike for a superior officer who seems to have a talent for sending young aviators to death needlessly. When he is moved into the officer's job he finds that he has to do the same thing in much the same way. In the end he sacrifices his own life for another flyer's, but his motive is strong enough to make the tragedy legitimate. Except for a singing-bee at the aviation base, when the officers sit around with glasses and salute death vocally, and an impossible scene in which Barthelmess is rescued from behind the enemy lines, The Dawn Patrol is exciting. It contains some of the best air photography ever made. Good shots: German troops shot down from the air, falling where they stand manning the anti-aircraft guns; German munition centre demolished by bombs from an English plane.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.