(2 of 3)
The von Stroheim Merry Widow, like the original operetta, concerned a Prince Danilo. The real Prince Danilo of Montenegro sued Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer for libel, collected $4,000 in a Paris court. Well aware that 63-year-old Prince Danilo, living modestly near Nice, must have pricked up his ears when Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer paid Princess Youssoupov $250,000 & costs for libelously dipping into the history of Russia and Rasputin (TIME, March 12; Aug. 20), Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer took no chances with this new version of The Merry Widow. In addition to demoting the Prince to a Captain, they were careful to change the date of the action from 1905 to 1885, when the real Prince was a young boy. Although they may disappoint Danilo, these alterations do not spoil the enjoyment of untitled cinemaddicts. Any picture which constitutes a field day for such specialists as Art Director Cedric Gibbons, Dance Director Albertina Rasch, Costumer Adrian, contains stars like MacDonald and Chevalier, and costs $1,600,000 is likely to suffer from a sense of selfimportance. In The Merry Widow these assets are adroitly subordinated to Director Lubitsch's ability to improve a story by telling it as if he did not mean it. The best laugh in the picture comes from an old newspaper in which Marshovia's King, preparing to abdicate, wraps up his crown. Happiness Ahead (Warner). When Warner Brothers announced last summer that they had discovered an ingenue who would be "one of the five biggest stars of the screen within a year," it was surprising to learn that their discovery was Josephine Hutchinson. A thin, pretty girl with red dish hair, sherry-colored eyes and a dimpled chin, Josephine Hutchinson had been exposed to the full view of Hollywood scouts for upwards of eight years as leading lady of Eva Le Gallienne's Civic Repertory Theatre on Manhattan's 14th Street. If her abilities for cinema were so pronounced, it seemed strange that no Hollywood spy had detected them before in her performances as Teresa in The Cradle Song, Mrs. Elvsted in Hedda Gabler, Wendy in Peter Pen, Anya in The Cherry Orchard or 30 other rôles. Somewhat startled by sudden recognition, Cinemactress Hutchinson was treated to a thorough series of camera tests designed to find out the most effective means of photographing her angular, expressive face. Meanwhile Hollywood gossip writers pigeonholed information to use in case the tests turned out as well as Warner Brothers hoped: Josephine Hutchinson, 25, is divorced from a grandson of Inventor Graham Bell. She weighs 103, lives in Manhattan, likes riding, won a scholarship in an acting school at 16, plays the harp. Her next cinema jobs will be in Max Reinhardt's Midsummer Night's Dream and The Right to Live, with George Brent. The picture selected for Josephine Hutchinson's début is a pleasant little comedy with incidental music. It supplies no opportunity to evaluate Warner Brothers' claims since it makes no demands upon her talents beyond: 1) impersonating a rich girl who finds wealth such an obstacle to a full life that she makes friends with a window-cleaner and rents a furnished apartment in which to entertain him and his friends; 2) listening to Dick Powell sing. She meets these demands effectively. The impression she gives audiences is that of Janet Gaynor with a brain. A shade more memorable than either the Hutchinson performance or the