Bella Donna. Pola Negri's first American picture is, except for the continuously electric Pola, just another vampire-film, deodorized as much as possible to please the censor. There's a sheik and an English nobleman and a little box of poison and a desert with a prowling lion—and none of it matters very much. Except when Pola appears. Daddy. A blatant assault upon the lachrymal glands, with a few snatches of inimitable comedy by young Mr. Coogan. He is, as you may have guessed, a downtrodden little boy-violinist in search of his long-lost...
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