“ROMANCE” AT MAJESTIC

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 276, 11 February 1928, Page 15

“ROMANCE” AT MAJESTIC

NOVARRO IN CONRAD NOVEL Yo lio for the Spanish Main and . . . romance! Ramon Novarro, the possessor, it is whispered, of the greatest screen sex appeal since Valentino, has a feature entirely after his own heart in “Romance,” the film version of Joseph Conrad’s novel. Neither could have been better titled. Every flapper in last night’s audience at the Majestic Theatre voted Ramon just the most heroic figure she could possibly imagine. Combined with Rudolph’s undoubted looks, he practices those stunts which up until now Douglas Fairbanks has so peculiarly made his own. Handsome, athletic, bold, debonair^—the beau ideal of a knight of the silver sheet. No wonder Marceline Day could not resist him. It is the proud duty, of course, of, every knight errant to rescue a damsel in distress. When the .lady in question is beautiful, modest and appealing to a degree, then duty becomes a pleasure. Ramon felt that he could have continued to scale walls a la Fairbanks, run every corsair through with the unerring aim of a gentleman of Spain, and dared a thousand Don Balthasars merely for the reward of one sweet smile. Pirates, brigands, cut-throats—they were all there. But the suave Don Balthasar, as naughty a villain as ever donned a sombrero, was the worst of all. His was the brain that directed the whole pirate enterprise. Don Balthasar, too, was responsible for imprisoning the beautiful del Reigo and her dying brother. And the petulant spirit he displayed when poor, dwarfed little Popolo, as merry a rogue as any in the band, fingered a few pearls. Not that poor Popolo intended to take them. Oh, no, he assured the Don; he merely admired them and knew them to be the unassailable property of his lord and master. But singularly enough, v as Popolo’s fingers reached for the pearls, a knife came hurtling through the. air, and, hey presto, almost before he knew what had actually happened, his hand was imprisoned to the table! Don Balthasar had many nasty habits. Neither would be accept the drarf’s excuse. Any ordinary villain would have been satisfied with setting an example to his band; discipline is just as essential among pirates, however lax they might become at a festa, as in any other combination. But, no. The Don was a man of action. The screaming Popolo was shown the gibbet. A few moments later, he, too, swung from aloft. . . . Imagine the terror, therefore, of the del Reigos in the power of such a man. Despite their ancient lineage, their unbesmirched escutcheon, and the thousand undoubted virtues on their side, it took a considerable length of film before the gallant Ramon was enabled to release them from bondage vile.

Still ’tis a long lane that has no turning, and as both hero and heroine discovered “love will always find a way.” The despicable Don suffered in due course for his evil. Youth and beauty triumphed. The del Reigo’s sister and brother again presided at their noble board, respectively, with a brand new husband and a brother-in-law. And His Most Catholic Majesty, away back in old Madrid, learned with satisfaction of the downfall of those irritating pirates who, mosquito-like, had so viciously attacked the Royal barges of commence. Australians will observe with much interest an interesting film of the Blue Mountains, w'hich displays the scenic glory of New South Wales in all its majesty. Eve’s Review, an amusing comedy, and the Majestic Magazine complete the pictorial bill. Ernest McKinlay sings “Waiata Poi,” “La Donna e Mobile,” and “A Fat Li’l*

every Aucklander will enjoy. The tenor’s reception was a popular one. The “II Guarany” Overture. by Gomez, is this w r eek's offering by the Majestic orchestra. J. Whiteford Waugh weilds the baton with his accustomed skill.