Myron M. Stearns

Summary

Myron M. Stearns With the movie makers (1923)

The human face is a document that all may read. An expression of sorrow is not confined to any one language. A smile goes round the world. Fear—anger—hope—excitement—can readily be recognized, whether the face that expresses them is white or black, man or woman or child, long or thin, or round and slant-eyed.
A boy laughing in Southern California may make a Hindu in India smile in sympathy, when that laugh appears upon a Bombay screen. Tears are universal. So is a grin.
Motion pictures made in one country may be shown in any other, and find appreciation.
Source: Gutenberg

Myron M. Stearns With the movie makers (1923)

Accordingly, in American pictures, our leading actors and actresses are almost always good-looking—and frequently poor at acting.
It is the same about truth, or the sense of reality. We sacrifice convincingness—fidelity to life—truth—to our desire for youth and beauty. If we could have both, well and good; but it is impossible. Accordingly, on the American screen, we see, again and again, our beautiful little flapper friends playing parts that should be taken by older women—not so young and pretty, perhaps, but true to life, instead of childish caricatures of truth.
Source: Gutenberg

Myron M. Stearns With the movie makers (1923)

But the most striking parallel of all is in the forgotten towns of the Kern River valley, and the country now opening up and so wonderfully fertile and productive around Bakersfield. The old gold rush is over, for the most part, in the movies as with California and the Klondike. Greenhorn City, the old mining town of the first gold-seekers, is hardly more than a memory—as are the old lurid, unreal movie melodramas of the first years, that drew crowds simply because they showed people and things in motion. Isabella and Bodfish still survive, but nobody pays much attention to them any more.
Source: Gutenberg

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