CRIME NEVER PAYS

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 974, 17 May 1930, Page 14

CRIME NEVER PAYS

“DARK STREETS” AT THE MAJESTIC ALSO “MEN ARE LIKE THAT” However clever the criminal, crime never pays. That is the lesson taught in exciting fashion by “Dark Streets,” a First National Vitaphone production which opened last evening at the Majestic. Supported by a feature-length comedy-drama and a full short-subject programme, it provided excellent entertainment. TRISH twin brothers drift apart. One joins the police force and lives decently; the other makes easy money on the wrong side of the law. Both love the same girl, whose choice hovers between the two.

Thus the stage is set for a tens< little drama that unfolds swiftly, pro viding a vigorous climax, then an un expected ending.

The gang to which the erring brother belongs falls foul of the police and orders are issued that the lawbreakers are wanted, dead or alive. The policeman is torn between fear for his brother and the call of duty. Then comes the warning that, on a certain evening, the criminals will attempt to ambush and murder him, and a thrilled audience holds its breath as the critical moment comes.

A virile picture, “Dark Streets”; notable among other things for its unique use of double photography with sound and speech. Hardened filmgoers are familiar with dual role work on the silent screen, but to see two images of the same man and to hear both speak is a decided novelty and one very successfully presented. Jack Mulhall, he of the - twisted smile, is the man concerned. As both the policeman and the criminal brother of “Dark Streets,” he does notable work, presenting opposite character studies with great skill. Supporting him is Lila Lee, as the girl, in a part that suits her attractive personality particularly well. The good points of “Dark Streets” —points such as clear sound, effective photography and brisk direction — are worthy of extended appreciation, but space must be found to acknowledge the delightful qualities of one of the most human little comedies the talking screen has produced—“ Men Are Like That.” LAUGHTER AND TEARS This is a Paramount picture, and one of those pleasant surprises often sprung at the Majestic. It is a bright, intensely appealing little tale, brimming over with laughter that is always very close to tears. Hal Skelly, American comedian of breezy method, appears as a social bore and blow-hard of almost unbelievable potency. Bluffing and blustering his way into the heart of a middle-class family, he carries a loveblinded girl off her feet, claptraps her parents into incoherency and has the audacity to be married on the strength of a few borrowed dollars. Skelly, who talks unceasingly and draws laughter from his audience with the utmost ease, has his best talkie

role to date in “Men Are Like That.” The suddenly-won success when in the darkest depths of misfortune provides a climax to the comedy that is particularly satisfying, for Skelly has the happy knack of creating sympathy for the most unprepossessing of his character studies.

Supporting the comedian is an excellent cast, special mention being deserved by the young leading woman and she who plays the mother. Both portrayals are excellent. Thirdly, “Micky the Mouse.” This cheerful person needs no introduction to talkie-goers. Sufficient to say that his “Jungle Rhythms” are as full of fun as the best of its predecessors.

Two supporting films and items by the Majestic orchestra complete a pleasurable evening.