"THE CRIMSON PLAYGOER

This movie begins with a burial service for the hero, a director's stunt devised not only to rob the audience of its just reward but to rehabilitate and glorify the old-time cut back under the banner "Narratage," "Narratage," however, is more than stunt; it is a diabolical infliction. Henry, Caspar Milquetoast apologist to Mr. Tom Garner, explains to his wife that Tom Garner explains to his wife that Tom Garner was more than a Legree, more than the faithless, cruci, relentless devil, whose feet the world licked, whose name the world cursed. And where Henry's spirit listeth the camera follows, watching urchin Tom Garner high diving into a rocky bottom, president Tom Garner buying up rusty railroads, husband Tom Garner sweating out, for his wife, the tale of his new love.

This, tersely, is old stuff. And one might settle down for a comfortable evening with familiar things were it not for "Narratage." The feature which imparts novelty to this particular cut-back is, unfortunately, that which, at the same time, makes it insufferable. Mr. Ralph Morgan's mellifluous drone accompanies too, too many scenes. In the childhood shots, it is reminiscent of some unhappy travelogue; in the love sequences it garners those derisive chortles, which are the customary part of "Screen Memories;" in the rest, it flows on, and on and on, incessant, monotonous, wracking a helpless audience.

It is necessary, however, to be fair to the players--even in an atmosphere of narrataged antiquity. Mr. Spencer Tracy dous grey hair for the first time within this reviewer's memory; and carries off the part of a Railroad executive with a satisfying, lusty banging of fists. Miss Colleen Moore, handicapped by what is sometimes termed the "Come back stage," turns out an acceptable, occasionally an appealing version of the ambitions Mrs. Garner. Mr. Ralph Morgan is still Nicky Tear, however of a filling system. Helen Vincent is beautiful and blank.