To settle the argument before it is started it should be said that "The Big Parade" a year ago did not take anything away from the present war film at the Majestic. "What Price Glory" has so much that is excellent in motion picture development that even an individual who has sworn to shun every war picture must grant that here is one which is really worth seeing, and that before Saturday night.

The Fox Film Corporation has seldom ventured into the field so completely usurped by Metro-Goldwyn and Paramount, the field of big moving picture hits. Their attempt to do so here has been successful. The fear that "What Price Glory" would be a repetition of all the war tragedies and comedies was groundless. True, it would be too much to say that the picture was original in all its details, but there was a distinct atmosphere about the film which made one set it apart.

The swearing, the manure piles, the pigs in the back-yards of French peasant cottages--all these hark back to former efforts. The opening scenes in Pekin and the Philippines started the picture in an extremely fine manner. The happy-go-lucky life of Quirt and Flagg among the women of the town was vividly rendered. In fact few domestic pictures have been so full of well-handled and sensuous scenes as was this one. From the Philippines the picture jumps to France, and Flagg, now a captain, is in the throes of another love affair from which he will ultimately be snatched by his great rival, Quirt. Whenever these two men come on together the picture is at its highest points. Their acting is rounded and humorous, particularly humorous for a capable lipreader during the numerous swearing contests.

The photography of the firing lines in France is as good as in any recent war film. The use of clever firework devices has given the impression of much explosion and shrapnel, though it may be that too few men fall by the wayside to satisfy a good martial appetite. The lighting of particular scenes, especially those in Charmaine's home, is novel and effective in its naturalness.

The Cohen-McNamara comedy combination will make the Beery-Hatton one look to its laurels. Charmaine of France, Shanghai Mabel, and Carmen of the Philippines are amusingly sensuous. . . . . and the picture makes no bones about it either. The real credit for the excellent work in the picture should go to Raoul Walsh, the director. He has caught the idea of Stallings and Anderson to teach pacifism by examples from the horrible side of war. With this in mind his scenes centering around the "Mother's Boy" are gripping and moving. The underground dugout scene, so powerful on the stage, has increased power in the films, due to good direction as well as to effective acting.

In other words, the picture is good and all who can forget pacifist prejudices long enough to remember that the film is really propaganda against war will derive an evening's entertainment.