CHAPTER XXVII

I am not going to try, in conclusion, to list the best directed pictures made during the life of the picture producing art. Such a list would necessarily be overlong while those that we considered masterpieces three years ago are inferior when matched beside the worthy productions of today. The only picture that seems to have lived is “The Birth of a Nation.” This first pretentious work of D. W. Griffith will naturally rank high in any list of “best pictures.” So, too, do some of the earlier Chaplin pictures which have been reissued many times under different titles.

The list of best directed pictures appended therefore does not belong particularly to one period of producing activity. It does contain, however, pictures that will be as good five years from the moment of writing as they were when first shown on the screens of the picture theatres. Time dims the quality of the great rank and file of pictures but it will have a difficult time rubbing the polish from these. Doubtless many others should be included. There are the delightful comedies of Constance Talmadge, the more serious works of Norma Talmadge, numbers of Mary Pickford pictures and numbers of Douglas Fairbanks pictures that will perhaps live longer than those included here. William S. Hart has immortalized himself forever yet recent pictures of his fail to react in as powerful a manner as his earlier work.

Furthermore, there have been some exceedingly popular pictures that have been very badly directed. No effort has been made to include these. And no effort has been made to include minor pictures quite well directed.

All points in the matter of direction have been considered. Minor faults have been glossed over when the merits have swung the scales overwhelmingly in their direction.

The list, finally, is not to be taken as anything more than contemporary.

“Shoulder Arms” and “The Kid,” directed by Charles Chaplin. Because, in addition to being the best comedies produced, they show a marvelous insight into human nature and because the dividing line between their comedy and the tragedies that might result from the same situations, is but the width of a hair.

“Way Down East,” directed by D. W. Griffith. Because here is a masterly handled picturization of a famous old melodrama. Because the rough edges have been smoothed over by the master hand of the director and because it closes in the biggest thrill ever presented on the screen.

“Orphans of the Storm,” directed by D. W. Griffith. Because here is a masterly handled picturization of a famous old melodrama, etc.

“Miss Lulu Bett” and “Midsummer Madness,” directed by William C. De Mille. Because both pictures, dealing with classes of people remotely removed from one another, contain a penetrating and true study of character and because these characters have been welded together in both instances in potent, dramatic pictures.

“The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse” and “The Conquering Power,” directed by Rex Ingram. Because tragedy and spectacle has been handled in the one, and tragedy in the other, with the discriminating eye of an artist. Because each presents its director as able in creating an illusion on the screen so complete as to dissolve the theatre walls into a part of the picture itself.

“The Three Musketeers,” directed by Fred Niblo. Because it is the best of Douglas Fairbanks' many best. Because it displays the fact that its director knows how to apply modern technique to a classic and still preserve the worth of the classic.

“Disraeli,” directed by Henry Kolker. Because it is the best screen version of a celebrated play ever produced.

“The City of Silent Men,” directed by Tom Forman. Because it raises a crook melodrama to the level of high art.

“Humoresque,” directed by Frank Borzage. Because it is the most faithful presentation of racial traits and characteristics filmed. Because its director reveals in it his uncanny power of developing a screen character until you can almost hear it speak.

“Sentimental Tommy,” directed by John Robertson. Because a rare and beautiful story has been transferred to the screen without harm or loss and because in it its director gave one of the most eloquent answers ever given to those who claim there are no artists in the art of picture producing.

“Peter Ibbetson,” directed by George Fitzmaurice. Because a rare and beautiful story has been transferred to the screen without harm or loss and because in it its director gave one of the most eloquent answers ever given to those who claim there are no artists in the art of picture producing.

“Stella Maris,” directed by Marshall Neilan. Because it is the best picture in which Mary Pickford has ever appeared.

“Little Lord Fauntleroy,” directed by Al Green and Jack Pickford. Because something approaching an artistic achievement has been made from this ancient too-sentimental work.

“The Indian Tomb,” directed by Joe May. Because, with the exception of humor, it blends every motion pictorial element in a whole so absorbing that time means nothing.

“Tol'ble David,” directed by Henry King. Because the spirit of the original work, a work of literary merit, has been skillfully communicated to the screen.

“The Law and the Woman,” directed by Penrhyn Stanlaws. Because an old plot has been translated into terms of intense melodrama through the judicious use of detail.

“Scratch My Back,” directed by Sidney Olcott. Because it is an original, ingenious comedy done in excellent taste.

“Over the Hill,” directed by Harry Millarde. Because it is a sentimental tear-jerker done in the most highly skilled fashion.

“Forbidden Fruit,” directed by Cecil B. De Mille. Because it represents its director at his exotic, most extravagant best.

“Passion,” directed by Ernst Lubitsch. Because it displays the art of handling big masses of people colorfully and because with its spectacular scenes there is a blending of an absorbing personal story.

“Dinty,” directed by Marshall Neilan. Because it is one of the most captivating, rollicking and delightfully foolish things ever done on the screen.

“Doubling for Romeo,” directed by Clarence Badger. Because it is one of the most captivating, rollicking and delightfully foolish things ever done on the screen.

“The Silent Call,” directed by Laurence Trimble. Because it is the best melodramatic novelty of the year.

“The Miracle Man,” directed by the late George Loane Tucker. Because—well, just because.

“The Loves of Pharaoh,” directed by Ernst Lubitsch. Because it is the best work of this director. Because in it he more nearly actually reaches his publicity pedestal than in any other of his pictures.

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TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

1. Corrected require to acquire on p. 5. 2. Corrected exists to exits on p. 27. 3. Corrected chining to chinning on p. 97. 4. Corrected everyone to “every one” on p. 191. 5. Corrected Pharoah to Pharaoh on p. 195. 6. Corrected pour to pore on p. 209. 7. Added of after most on p. 214. 8. Corrected site to cite on p. 214. 9. Silently corrected typographical errors. 10. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. 11. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.