We are not to draw any conclusions regarding life in Paris, we are told, from "Coiffeur Pour Dames," by Paul Arnot and Marcel Gerbidon, now being shown at the Geography Building. As a matter of fact, the Hollywood elegance at once turned our thoughts more to this side of the Atlantic than to Paris. In this "comedie de boulevards," Mario, an ambitious, if somewhat effeminate peasant, rises from shearing lambikins of the literal sort to those of a figurative sort. One of those who is unfortunate enough to have his most fervent prayers answered, he becomes the most famous hairdresser in Paris, quite neglects his wife (we thought Aline rather a sweet little girl), is society's lion, is preyed upon by all females. So tremendous is his success with his great work and the women, that he is forced to accept the title of "Napoleon de la coiffure." But, gentlemen, the moral: There is a purpose underlying the wiles of women. Innocent little Denyse (daughter of Mario's best cliente) works Mario into her toils, and meekly proposes that he marry her after divorcing his wife. Aline, aware of all, saves Mario, their home, and the situation by a ruse, so that the couple is enabled at the end to live happily ever after amidst a brood of children and fake scenery.

"Coiffeur pour Dames" has all the exaggeration and imagination of a Rene Claire piece, but none of the finesse. The situation is not preposterous enough to suit our spoiled taste in French pictures, but the lines (we are told) are hilariously funny. The brief travelogue preceding the feature dealt with Chartres, Laon, and Rheims in an unsatisfactory Fogg Museum way--old stuff none too well presented. The Harvard wives (who comprised a majority of the audience) had a very pleasant afternoon.