“Little Lord Fauntleroy,” directed by Al Green and Jack Pickford. Because something approaching an artistic achievement has been made from this ancient too-sentimental work.
“The Indian Tomb,” directed by Joe May. Because, with the exception of humor, it blends every motion pictorial element in a whole so absorbing that time means nothing.
“Tol'ble David,” directed by Henry King. Because the spirit of the original work, a work of literary merit, has been skillfully communicated to the screen.
“The Law and the Woman,” directed by Penrhyn Stanlaws. Because an old plot has been translated into terms of intense melodrama through the judicious use of detail.
“Scratch My Back,” directed by Sidney Olcott. Because it is an original, ingenious comedy done in excellent taste.
“Over the Hill,” directed by Harry Millarde. Because it is a sentimental tear-jerker done in the most highly skilled fashion.
“Forbidden Fruit,” directed by Cecil B. De Mille. Because it represents its director at his exotic, most extravagant best.
“Passion,” directed by Ernst Lubitsch. Because it displays the art of handling big masses of people colorfully and because with its spectacular scenes there is a blending of an absorbing personal story.
“Dinty,” directed by Marshall Neilan. Because it is one of the most captivating, rollicking and delightfully foolish things ever done on the screen.
“Doubling for Romeo,” directed by Clarence Badger. Because it is one of the most captivating, rollicking and delightfully foolish things ever done on the screen.