fering
a form of entertainment appealing only to the uneducated and thus
segregating them from the educated, who presumably all attend the regular
theatre, sitting in the parquet at two dollars per. One wonders whether
Mr. Eaton has attended a moving-picture theatre since 1903. I believe the
movie to be by all odds the most democratic form of intellectual (by which
I mean non-physical) entertainment ever offered; and I base my belief on
wide observation of audiences in theatres of many different grades. Now
this democracy shows itself not only in the composition of audiences but
in their manifestations of approval. I do not mean that everyone in an
audience always likes the same thing. Some outrageous "slap-stick" comedy
rejoices one and offends another. A particularly foolish plot may satisfy
in one place while it bores in another. But everywhere I find one thing
that appeals to everybody--realism. Just as soon as there appears on the
screen something that does not know how to pose and is forced by nature to
be natural--an animal or a young child, for instance--there are immediate
manifestations of interest and delight.

The least "stagy" actors are almost always favorites. Mary Pickford stands
at the head. There is not an ounce of staginess in her make-up. She was
never particularly successful on the stage. Some of her work seems to me
ideal acting for the screen--simple, appealing, absolutely true. Of course
she is not always at her best.

To the stage illusions that depend on costume and make-up, the screen is
particularly unfriendly. Especially in the "close-ups" the effect is
similar to that which one would have if he were standing close to the
actor looking directly into his face. It is useless to depend on ordinary
make-up under these circumstances. Either it should be of the description
used by Sherlock Holmes and other celebrated detectives (we rely on
hearsay) which deceives the very elect at close quarters, or else the
producer must choose for his characters those that naturally "look the
parts." In particular, the lady who, although long past forty, continues
to play _ingenue_ parts and "gets away with it" on the stage, must get
away _from_ it, when it comes to the screen. The "close up" tells the sad
story at once. The part of a sixteen-year-old girl must be played by a
real one. Another concession to realism, you see. And what is true of
persons is true of their environment. I have already registered my