THE CINEMA
" The Last Days of Dolwyn." (Empire.)—" Melody Time." (New Gallery.)—" That Wonderful Urge. (Gaumont and Marble Arch Pavilion.) As an inveterate film-goer I cannot but rejoice at the recent addition of Dame Edith Evans to the firmament of film stars, but as an even more ardent lover of the stage I can only pray that the seductions of the screen will not lure her too frequently from the boards ; for there is not a doubt that, now that she has finally taken the plunge into the picture pool, she has proved herself the strongest of swimmers. In The Last Days of Dolwyn she plays the part of a
church caretaker in a small Welsh village in the year 1892, a part which does not spring to the mind as being one particularly suited to her; and yet she invests this extremely simple, almost mouse-like character with a cloak of complete authenticity, so that not one sliver of, say, Rosalind or Lady Bracknell or Daphne Laureola or indeed Dame Edith peeps out from behind the disguise. It is, I feel, positively insulting to film actresses that one should be so'surprised when one is presented with a character part that is sterling through and through.
The film is written and directed by Mr. Emlyn Williams, and he also takes the villain's part, all of which exercises deserve praise. One feels, naturally enough, that one can rely on Mr. Williams for all things Welsh, and indeed he promotes a lively atmosphere with his lilting voices, his songs, his Bible readings in Welsh, his touches of humour all set against a background as lovely as you will find anywhere in this island. Dolwyn, incidentally, is not a girl but a village, a village doomed to be drowned so that Lancashire's industrial concerns may be adequately empowered, and it is Mr. Williams' subtlety to show us not, save ir_ a few instances, how the thought of this tragic inundation causes the inhabitants to grieve but rather how delighted they are at the idea of going to the suburbs of Liverpool which they believe will be as dear and as delightful as Dolwyn. It is we who grieve for their innocence. Mr. Richard Burton, Mr. Alan Aynesworth and Miss Barbara Couper give excellent perform- ances, and there is a large supporting cast radiating a veritable glow of Welsh temperament. * *
Seven episodes go to the making of Mr. Walt Disney's new pro- duction Melody Time, and all save two, when he resorts to that' mixture of humans and drawings which I detest so much, take one into that innocent comforting world of small animals and bedtime stories. I consider Mr. Disney to be the world's most successful nanny, a soothing escape from the day's disappointments and bringing enough beauty, humour, music and magic from out the large pockets of his apron to solace the most refractory child. Memorable among this latest clutch of anodynes is Little Toot, the tugboat who is the terror of New York harbour, and Johnny Appleseed, the legen- dary figure who, in the nineteenth century, walked along a thousand miles of the Ohio River planting apple trees. Wintertime, too, is lovely to look at, and boasts two of those Disney rabbits that melt the very marrow in one bones, and there is a colourful explosion called Bumble Boogie which will appeal to those who like abstract patterns and, of course, bumblebees and boogie. The last two episodes, which are visibly aided by Miss 'Ethel Smith on the electric organ and by a choir called " The Sons of the Pioneers," are to my mind wrecked by these versatile players who wrench one away from the enchanting never-never land bringing expatriated cartoons along with them.
* * * * That Wonderful Urge is born of a long line of films about million- airesses and reporters, and it resembles its ancestors so closely in every line of its tired face as to be indistiguishable from them. Mr. Tyrone Power is the reporter who writes scathing articles about the rich Miss Gene Tierney, and it is hardly necessary to say that their mutual hatred, kept alive for three quarters of the film by out- rageous behaviour on both sides, finally turns to love. The hero and heroine, whether fighting like wild cats on the floor or spending the night in gaol or producing three tricks a minute to thwart one another, are not perhaps at their best, but they do nevertheless contrive to wring some drops of comedy from this much-squeezed fruit.
VIRGINIA GRAHAM.
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