The New Pictures

Flowing Gold. A good, stock picture has been made out of Rex Beach's novel of the Texas oil fields. It is one of those pictures in which, the mighty forces of Nature--fire, cloudburst and general havoc-- are called upon with all his strength by a director determined to jam a spectacular climax into the photoplay when his human drama grows exhausted after five reels. In this case oil is poured upon the turbulent waters, and then set alight. A soldier of fortune and the newly rich oil heiress whom he has been shielding from adventurers, swim through the burning fluid into a final closeup. It is exciting but rather manufactured melodrama, which will not sell oil stocks.

Happiness. Laurette Taylor has followed her first picture, Peg o' My Heart, with another celluloid jelling of a stage success. She is a determined little seamstress who finally works her way up to proprietorship of her own shop, successfully resisting the efforts of a wealthy woman to make a lady out of her. She picks up en route an inventor who makes the sort of devices possible only in movies, and lovable only to a movie personage. The moral that it's better to work out one's own destiny than to be shoved into ease by someone else is clearly pointed out, so there will be no mistake. Miss Taylor is artfully sure with her quick, comic movements and her sudden sunburst of a smile.

A Society Scandal. This picture has been made over from Ethel Barrymore's stage vehicle, The Laughing Lady, to suit a Manhattan instead of a London locale, and to provide dresses to fit every mood of Gloria Swanson. The photoplay has an attractive gloss while the star pursues the procedure of the play by falling in love with her husband's attorney who heaped smut on her in her divorce trial. Then the picture diverges, for the purely mechanical purpose of giving her a chance to besmirch him in return, and create a "punch" scene. She tears around, drags him into the hall, and in general carries on as only an actress under contract would behave. Thy Name Is Woman. Ever since the success of Carmen, producers have relied on the popularity of Spanish enchantresses who beguile customs officers for the salvation of smugglers. Ramon Novarro and Barbara La Marr do well in the thick of the knife brandishing.