Church and Country

The laws that govern good composition are not so complicated in any other form of art as they are in that of making motion pictures. Ours is a graphic art, not a dramatic art, although drama, in its genuine meaning, expresses anything made effective, humanly, by composition. The difference between a mere photograph of, say Abraham Lincoln, and a picture of him, is that one is only a reminder, while the other chooses a climax and implies a beginning, middle and end; in other words, is dramatic. And after all this, in a motion picture, the art of photography comes in. A poorly taken picture is like a poorly printed etching; it may possibly be more effective, but probably it will be less. Good photography is essential to good pictures; many a poor story has been made pleasing by it. As for this picture, without harshly criticizing its camera work, which isn't very bad, we can safely wish that it were better. The subject deserved better outside views than are on this print, at least. The story deals with a frustrated plot to capture General Washington. Its hero is a minister who was not a Quaker, because his flock plainly wasn't; but who didn't believe a minister ought to fight. He is a patriot and the girl he loves wants him to join the army, but he won't. Later, in order to save Washington, he takes an active part; has a talk with the general; prays with him at a winter camp-fire at Valley Forge, and comes home to preach one more sermon in his church. He has a soldier's uniform under his black robe and stirs his congregation so that many of them also enlist. We felt that the first scenes dragged. The picture surely is instructive and valuable a feature. - The Moving Picture World, April 27, 1912