CRIMSON PLAYGOER

Whenever any member of the Royal Family of troupers, the Barrymores, appears, the result is likely to be gratifying no matter what the vehicle. The departure of the two brothers to Hollywood and the effervescent talkies has not as yet rendered either of them dead numbers.

Especially is this true of John Barrymore in "General Crack", now playing at the Fenway. If you like (1) John, or (2) melodrama, "General Crack" is likely to prove much more than satisfactory. A dislike of one or the other, if not too predominating, will not ruin all vestiges of pleasure.

Barrymore plays the part of the gallant, and still quite romantic, Count, who has lost his rightful domains because of some question of certificates. He is the son of a famous war-lord and a gypsy dancer, and maintains the reputation of both to the best of his ability. His main feats are saving the remains of a rapidly degenerating Hapsburg Empire through the medium of his mercenary soldiers, insulting an emperor and jilting an arch-duchess, marrying a gypsy girl (the trait seems to run in the family) with a rather lax set of morals, destroying the Hapsburg Empire again, dispensing with the gypsy accoutrements, reinsulting the emperor, falling in love with the afore-mentioned jilted arch-duchess, winning her, and finally, to cap an excellent picture, restoring the Hapsburgs, leaving them there.

When not engrossed in the performance of these, he gets off some well-timed bits of acting. The scene most worthy of mention is the superbly theatrical moment between Lowell Sherman as the Bavarian Emperor and Barrymore, as the Soldier of Fortune, just before the battle. Sherman, an ever-popular villain does his few bits to perfection as usual. Marion Nixon looks much better in a white wig than otherwise, but is mostly rather ineffectual. The historical background and supporting casts are worked out well. All in all, the picture is worth a long car-ride.

Among the shorter bits, the musical cartoonograph "After the Ball is Over" is the only one worth mention, but is easily the most ludicrous of its class.