mechanical Americans, fond of crawling on their stomachs to tinker their
automobiles, are eager over the evolution of the first weapon from a
stick to a hammer. They are as full of curiosity as they could well be
over the history of Langley or the Wright brothers.

The dire perils of the motion pictures provoke the ingenuity of the
audience, not their passionate sympathy. When, in the minds of the
deluded producers, the beholders should be weeping or sighing with
desire, they are prophesying the next step to one another in worldly
George Ade slang. This is illustrated in another good Action Photoplay:
the dramatization of The Spoilers. The original novel was written by Rex
Beach. The gallant William Farnum as Glenister dominates the play. He has
excellent support. Their team-work makes them worthy of chronicle: Thomas
Santschi as McNamara, Kathlyn Williams as Cherry Malotte, Bessie Eyton
as Helen Chester, Frank Clark as Dextry, Wheeler Oakman as Bronco Kid,
and Jack McDonald as Slapjack.

There are, in The Spoilers, inspiriting ocean scenes and mountain views.
There are interesting sketches of mining-camp manners and customs. There
is a well-acted love-interest in it, and the element of the comradeship
of loyal pals. But the chase rushes past these things to the climax, as
in a policeman picture it whirls past blossoming gardens and front lawns
till the tramp is arrested. The difficulties are commented on by the
people in the audience as rah-rah boys on the side lines comment on
hurdles cleared or knocked over by the men running in college field-day.
The sudden cut-backs into side branches of the story are but hurdles
also, not plot complications in the stage sense. This is as it should be.
The pursuit progresses without St. Vitus dance or hysteria to the end of
the film. There the spoilers are discomfited, the gold mine is
recaptured, the incidental girls are won, in a flash, by the rightful