Cinema: The New Pictures: Jan. 24, 1938

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On the whole, however, Mannequin does not depart perceptibly from the customary Crawford orbit—an upsy-daisy chute-the-chutes ride, with shrieks and giggles on the hairpin .turns and a happy splash at the end. With all the shiny morality and cultural lag of an old Will Hays collar, Mannequin tells the tale of a slum girl who tries to dodge her environment by marrying a self-confessed heel, gets a shot from love's hypo herself when she meets an honest tugboat tycoon.

I Met My Love Again (Walter Wanger) puts a favorite poser of slick-paper fiction, viz., whether there is a spark in that old campus romance yet, these ten years later. Its answer is a heart-warming yes, echoing around the shaded quiet of a i Vermont college town. Producer Walter ; Wanger has a theory of picture-making akin to Baseball's immortal Willie Keeler's formula for a good batting average ("Hit 'em where they ain't"). Hence this film, a reworking of the essentials of Allene Corliss' Summer Lightning (cloudbursts & all) aims soberly at the heart where most other cinemakers would aim at the funny bone. Whether the box offices will consider Producer Wanger as nifty a batter as Willie Keeler is another matter. Few Hollywood producers dare strike whimsical notes on the polymorphism of the ant, the physical advantage the paramecium holds over the amoeba. But in the capable hands of Henry Fonda & Joan Bennett, top Wanger stars, and an able cast, / Met My Love A gain's invertebrate allegories, its academic ups & downs, its ten changing years and its sopping-wet windup are invariably diverting, variably brilliant.

Hollywood Hotel (Warner Brothers), is the name of a venerable, no longer pretentious Hollywood hostelry. It is much more widely known, however, as the name of Campbell Soup's weekly radio program in which cinema stars are chattily introduced by No. i Hearst Movie Columnist Louella O. Parsons. The column has national circulation, so in return for mention in the Parsons' jottings, even though their inaccuracy is celebrated, Hollywood obediently sits up and begs. Broadcaster Parsons can get actors on the Campbell hour for nothing, whereas other radio programs lay out large sums for screen names. In return, "Lolly" Parsons makes plenty from Campbell Soup. From Warners she got $40,000 for exhibiting her ample contours at long last to the cinemasses.

At the picture's stagey Hollywood premiere, many a private chuckle mingled with the applause for an amusing, well constructed musical, for Hollywood realized that the Warners script writers and director had just let Lolly be herself.

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