Silent Stars Speak: Interviews with Twelve Cinema Pioneers (review)

Book Reviews | Regular Feature turns us to the rather silly archetypes of "childhood" that the book as a whole would seem to be arguing against. Still, this section offers some interesting analysis—Bud Foote's article on the use of children in the works of Stephen King is especially provocative . As with any collection of critical essays, Nursery Realms at times (especially in Part III) struggles to maintain the central focus the editors strive to present, yet as a whole it succeeds admirably in presenting, over a surprisingly diverse sampling, a trend in literary focus that is quite intriguing and should be helpful to scholars not only of these specific genres, but also to those of cultural studies, feminist approaches and classical literary scholarship as well—the principles developed here can be shifted, it would seem, to other cross-disciplines since, as the book argues successfully, children are central to our existence. The biological fact of this statement is layered together with the more universal and metaphysical worldview that sci-fi, fantasy and horror provide . Even within this particular collection, the essays selected are not tied to just literary canon like Asimov or Heinlein, but include contemporary sites for discussion as broad ranging as Terminator II and children inflicted with William's syndrome. Nursery Realms is clearly a thoughtful and deliberate exploration of an important theme, and as such is definitely a must for any scholar interested in expanding the conversation of cultural understanding of mankind's place in the universe and, more importantly, in relationship between man and himself. John W. Wright Louisiana State University Tony Villecco. Silent Stars Speak: Interviews with Twelve Cinema Pioneers. McFarland Publishing, 2001. 200 pages; $28.00 softcover. Long Ago and Faraway Back in 1915, a twelve-year-old ingénue, Pauline Curley, picked up a minorpartin a five-reel photodrama entitledLife Without Soul. Produced by Ocean Film Corporation and directed by Joseph Smiley, this seventy-minute silent moving picture—based on Mary W. Shelley's horror tale, Frankenstein—entertained audiences with its beauty and the beast storyline and the toothsome smile of happy Pauline Curley. But who would remember this pretty actress and her enchanting appearance? Who could recall her seventeen-year career behind the lens and the many roles she played? And what about the performer? What did she value about those fledgling filmmaking days? These are some ofthe questions that Tony Villecco raises in his wonderful , narrative study aboutthe world ofmotion pictures without sound, Silent Stars Speak: Interviews with Twelve Cinema Pioneers. As Mr. Villecco points out, so many early titles (such as Life Without Soul) have either vanished or disintegrated that the only evidence of their influence rests solely in the memories of their creators. To preserve this history, he sought out twelve notables, conducted extensive interviews, and— after some fine-tuning—toldtheir stories about aperiod, that—as the song laments—was long ago and faraway. Besides Pauline Curley (who appeared in thirty-five titles), Mr. Villecco reminisced with Virginia Cherrill, who, despite her frail health, gleefully recounted her first meeting with Charlie Chaplin and quick appointment to the City Lights script as the blind flower girl and the elaborate on-again, off-again production schedule. While this "last big silent picture" brought her audience recognition, she was unsuccessful with Humphrey Bogart, who, annoyed by her flippant attitude about his silly-looking, elevated shoes, fired her outright from the set. Another silent film star, Priscilla Bonner (who made thirty-one pictures), remembered working with Will Rogers, Rudolph Valentino, John Barrymore, and Pola Negri while former Our Gang imp, Jean Darling (thirtyeight pictures), laughed about the many misadventures that peppered the popular comedy series but, in a somber tone, admonished the film industry's shortsightedness by not properly storing these titles in fireproof vaults. Other interviewees included cherub-faced Molly O'Day (thirteen films), who played a prizefighter's girlfriend in The Patent Leather Kid, a photodrama that pole-vaulted her to stardom and Anita Page (twenty-three pictures), the ravishing beauty who appeared in one silent title, Telling the World and then successfully glided into the sound era. Another actress, Diana Serra Cary, — known simply as Baby Peggy—was a...