The New Pictures

The Whole Town's Talking (Columbia) is the story of a cringing little bookkeeper whose one remarkable characteristic is a facial resemblance to an escaped murderer whose picture is on all the front pages. The nightmare train of events into which this circumstance plunges Bookkeeper Jones starts when police arrest him, smilingly dismiss his apologetic explanations as the wily alibis of a desperate criminal. It continues when Jones, released with a safe-conduct to prevent his being arrested again, returns to his dingy room and finds Murderer Mannion waiting to steal the safe-conduct and use Jones as a decoy. It ends when Jones finally lives up to his brave exterior by helping to kill Mannion, collecting $25,000 reward, marrying the stenographer whom he has always bashfully adored.

As is likely to be the case with cinema stories which are genuinely suited to their medium, no recapitulation of the plot of The Whole Town's Talking can begin to convey its superlative qualities as entertainment. Equipped with material which they could have used as the basis for uproarious comedy or stark horror, Scenarists Jo Swerling and Robert Riskin and Director John Ford contrived to do both without giving their work at any point the appearance of a tour de force. A network of subsidiary plots--the sad misadventure of Jones's maiden aunt when she meets Killer Mannion; Mannion's astute revenge on a rival gangster who mistakes him for Jones--are brilliantly used to make the doings of little Jones the more strange, heroic, touching and preposterous. In his dual role, as Jones and Mannion, Edward G. Robinson gives his best performance since Little Caesar. Good shot: the mean, mysterious little man (Donald Meek) who first tells the police to arrest Jones, trying to collect the reward for capturing Mannion.

The Little Colonel (Fox). Annie Fellows Johnston's* story about the curly-headed tomboy who reconciles two warring factions of a Southern family has been thumbed religiously by nice little girls since 1895. "The Little Colonel" was full grown and on the road to matrimony before Mrs. Johnston was through with her. Shirley Temple is not quite six but, dressed up in flounces and high-button boots for this picture, she steps into a role cut down to her size with all the assurance of the capable actress she is. She reviews a regiment which has made her honorary colonel; tap dances with Bill Robinson; plays soldier with Lionel Barrymore; is the comfort of her mother's lonely life (Evelyn Venable) and even dresses up in Civil War hoopskirts to render "Love's Young Dream" on the harp.

Lionel Barrymore contributes the chief touch of originality by refusing to use a Southern accent. He is a patriarch who disowns his daughter for marrying a Yankee (John Lodge) and who later, won over by Shirley, turns up with a horse pistol just in time to save the Yankee's life and property. The only thing in the show which did not come out of the Ark is Negro Bill Robinson's dancing. He does his celebrated "Climb-the-Stairs" routine and contributes the finest butler's walk that ever reached the screen.

Vanessa: Her Love Story (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer), adapted by Hugh Walpole from his own novel, is an earnest, lachrymose romance of the Jubilee Era, slightly oversold on its message, Love Will Find a Way. Benjie Herries (Robert Montgomery) is the black sheep of a huge English manor-house and bagpipe family. Other members of the family include a female centenarian (May Robson), lovely young Vanessa (Helen Hayes) and an anti-social introvert with a persecution complex (Otto Kruger). The trouble starts when Benjie goes to China instead of marrying Vanessa immediately. When he gets back, the manor house burns down and she suspects him of cowardice in not rescuing her father. Hurt, Benjie marries a barmaid. Dismayed, Vanessa marries the introvert. Not until Benjie has lost an arm, Vanessa's husband has died from the shock of seeing a Christmas present, and an old friend of the family (Henry Stephenson) has predicted that there is no way out, do Benjie and Vanessa reach first base.

For cinemaddicts who know that it invariably betokens a husband whose jealousy will drive him to distraction. Otto Kruger's presence in this picture will not add materially to its suspense. Nonetheless, his performance is the most convincing single feature of the entertainment. As Vanessa, Helen Hayes, who last week announced that she would return to the stage for good after one more cinema role, contributes her anguished smile and her catch-in-the-throat voice. Robert Montgomery's efforts are improved by the exchange of his customary whimsey for a set of sideburns.

The Great Hotel Murder (Fox). Month ago in Under Pressure Edmund Lowe and Victor McLaglen were a pair of truculent sand hogs, snarling savagely at each other while digging a vehicular tunnel. This time they are rival detectives, investigating the death of a banker in a hotel and thereby putting all its guests under suspicion of murder.

The plot of Lowe-McLaglen cinema varies more than its essential pattern: an amiable numbskull outwitted by a smug sophisticate. Cinemaddicts who enjoy listening to the kind of vituperation between Lowe and McLaglen which has remained marketable at the box-office for the past eight years will probably overlook the fact that as detective fiction The Great Hotel Murder is strictly routine.

*In the 1890's, three young married women in Louisville formed an informal literary club, began three novels which they read to each other at meetings. The young women were Alice Hegan Rice, "George Madden Martin" (Mrs. Attwood R. Martin), and Annie Fellows Johnston. Their respective novels were Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch, Emmy Lou and The Little Colonel. Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch was released as cinema last autumn (TIME, Oct. 29). Emmy Lou will probably appear in cinema next year.

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