CINEMA
Genevieve. (Leicester Square.) MR. WILLIAM ROSE'S comedy, involving the rivalry between two young men who own antiquated cars and enter them for the annual London to Brighton run, is one of the happiest follies perpetrated for a long time. Produced and directed by Mr. Henry Cornelius, it is a masterly study of the Englishman's eternal adolescence, so endearing and yet so profoundly irritating to women.
Mr. John Gregson and Mr. Kenneth More are the two veteran car-enthusiasts to whom the performances of their respective crocks is of an importance matched by no other thing on earth, to whom a puncture is stark tragedy and the blowing of a gasket undying shame. The long-suffering females, commanded to push and pull, to be jiggled and soaked, to be barely noticed, certainly not thanked, are Miss Dinah Sheridan and Miss Kay Kendall ; and this quartet of delightful lunatics, the like of which could be bred nowhere but here, is wholly enchanting. In the race for home when no holds are barred, the author has sought out many inventions, but they are all plausible, all funny without being farcical, and they catch one sur- prised in a net of laughter. On the unmechanical side I would particularly commend to you the scenes in a cheap Brighton lodging- house supervised by Miss Joyce Grenfell, and the trumpet voluntary played by Miss Kendall prior to her passing out.
Genevieve is perfect fare for the present season, containing ingre- dients of all our national characteristics—endurance, eccentricity, charm and perfidy. It is, indeed, a worthy tribute to our entrancing,
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