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Photoplay (Volume 36 – 37 (Jul. - Dec. 1929)) online

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about it if you want to. You haven't seen
Chaplin because he's been doing a movie
marathon — making one of those epics that
takes years to complete. It's called "City
Lights."

Mary E. Chase, Toledo, Ohio. — June
CoUyer is the gal who looks so much like Mary
Astor. You lose.

Penelope Jones, Chattanooga, Tenn. —
Are you trying to kid me, Penelope? Dorothy
Janis' real name is Dorothy Penelope Jones.
Bet you knew it all the time! George Lewis
married a very attractive non-professional
named Marj' Louise Loliman. Ramon No-
varro has five brothers.

Rose Udall, New York City.— .^ Jolson
was born in Washington, D. C, on May 26,
1886. On the stage he played in "Dancin'
i\round," "Robinson Crusoe, Jr.," "Bombo"
and " Big Boy." You might almost say that Al
goes in for matrimony as a profession. His
wives have been: Henrietta Keller, Ethel
Delmar — and now cute little Ruby Keeler, of
" Show Girl " fame.

Nancy Riley, Augusta, Me. — Maine
seems to be a little shy on movie celebrities.
The only one I know of is lovely Esther
Ralston, who was born in Bar Harbor.

G. D., Bron-x, N. Y. C— Chester Morris,
the only movie crook on record who never re-
forms, was born in New York City on February
16, 1902. He is five feet, nine inches tall, weighs
148 pounds and has dark brown hair and gray
eyes. His latest release is "Woman Trap."



Miriam Passman, Chicago, III.
— Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., is the son
of Douglas Fairbanks and Beth
Fairbanks Whiting. They are di-
vorced. Mary Pickford is Doug.
Sr.'s second wife, and Beth Fair-
banks recently married Jack Whit-
ing. That gives young Doug a
complete set of parents and step-
parents. Savez? In Buddy Rogers'
latest picture, titled "Illusion,"
Nancy Carroll plays the feminine
lead and June Collyer the second
lead.

\'irginia Speak, St. Louis, Mo.
— Your taste is certainly varied!
Jack Oakie was the clarinet comic
in "Street Girl," and Ivan Lebedeff
was the osculated prince. Morgan
Farley, of "American Tragedy" fame, played
Dick Carroll in "Half Marriage." And young
John Breeden was Lola Lane's sweetheart in
the "Fox Follies."

George H., Louisville, Ky. — RKO means
Radio-Keith-Orpheum. Here's how it hap-
pened. When the Radio Corporation of
America decided to go into the picture
business, it bought the old FBO company
as its producing center and the Keith-Orpheiuii
vaudeville and film theaters through which to
release its photoplay product.

Wolcott W. Salisbury, Jr., Genoa, Ohio.
— The old Answer Man had to brush up on his
book-larnin' to answer these. "Bulldog
Drummond" w-as taken from the stage play by
Sapper. "Disraeli" was adapted from the
play by Louis N. Parker. The play "Three
Live Ghosts," by Frederick S. Isham, fur-
nished the story for the pictiure by that name.

Marian Wolfe, Troy, N. Y. — Yes, my
child — Betty Compson really played the violin
in " Street Girl." Betty used to play the fiddle
in vaudeville.

Virginia Spotswood, St. Louis, Mo. —
Maurice Chevalier, eh? Wonder if I'd make
more of a hit with the girls if I wrote this de-
partment with a French accent. The fascinat-
ing Maurice was born in Menilmontant, near
Paris. He is five feet, eleven inches tall,
weighs 165 pounds and has brown hair and
blue eyes. He came to America in August,
1928, and will divide his time from now on
between the American movies and the French
stage.

Alice Louise Minew^aser, Brookville,
Pa. — Sally O'Neil was the checkroom girl and
William Bakewell the usher in "On with the
Show." Sorry to disillusion you, but they
don't feel that way about each other off the
screen. Grant Withers is engaged to Loretta
Young. His next picture is "In the Head-
lines." [please turn to pace 142 ]



Photoplay Magazine for December, 1929



97



Pictui*e yourself as my maiiiieqiiiii and learu ^^liy



^^^%>THV SKIN C4^ ^^



«^^v^



Hy



O^



CJm/ices <:=/nmti/n



o



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r r /

You will find Milkweed Cream at any
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You Can't Get Away with It in Hollywood



[ CONTINUED FROM PAGE 65 ]



you wanted to swim to Catalina Island. After
that you and a few other drunks went to the
Pom Pom. And then you and this Bridget
Brilliantine— "

"Aw, I give up," I said, hastily. "Say, you
know that Uttle hat you were looking at in the
Ambassador today — that cute little hat —
yellow I think it was — "

"Mr. Thalberg had dinner at the next table
to me last night," resumed my wife. "He is a
slender, dark-haired boy about twenty-eight
years old, and he dances divinely."

It cost the hat and ensemble, and since then
I've spent my evenings watering the lawn.

YOU can't keep anything a secret in Holly-
wood. The world's champion in this
respect is Mae Murray. She kept her baby a
secret for one solid year. And a baby is about
the hardest thing to keep secret there is.

Next to babies, the toughest secret to hide
is marriage. A few months ago a man inti-
mately concerned \Aith M-G-M called the
Hollywood office of Photoplay.

"Listen," he said, "I know your deadline for
next month is tomorrow and I want you to
have some big news. But you mustn't breathe
it to a soul. You are the fourth person in the
world to know, and we are not telling anyone
else. Jack Gilbert and Ina Claire are hopping
a 'plane this afternoon for Las Vegas and they
are going to get married there."

Well, the Photoplay writer (she told me
this story) is only a woman, after all. .'\nd
there is nothing a woman loves more dearlj'
than a deadly secret that mustn't be breathed
to a soul that she can whisper to her best
friend. For, after all, what use is a secret
unless somebody knows you know it?

But the Photoilay writer is of unusual
caliber. She may be only a woman, but loyalty
is her code. The M-G-M executive had said,
"Don't breathe it to a soul" — and she didn't.
She nearly ex-ploded, but she didn't.

And that evening there was a premiere at the
Carthay Circle and the first thing the wTiler
heard on entering was: "Why, I thought Ina
Claire was married already!" Before she
reached her seat in the center aisle ten different
persons told her the news.

"I have never kept a secret since," she said
vindictively.

One reason why it is so hard to keep a secret
in Hollywood is the hilly nature of the terrain.
Everybody looks into everybody else's back
yard and tells what he sees there.

This is why the crests of the mountains
overhanging Hollywood and Beverly Hills are
beginning to be Uttered with sprawling
bungalows, like eagles' nests. The life of a
star is becoming a constant effort to build
higher than her neighbor.

The prize position in this respect is held by
John Barrymore. With very hltle difficulty,
only turning the telescope in a half-circle, he
can get intimate views of (a) Frances Marion's
hillside home; (b) Mary Pickford and Douglas
Fairbanks' Pickfair; (c) Winnie Sheehan's
Castilian palace (despite camouflage) ; Harold
Lloyd's little principality; and the pleasant
little twenty-room cottage occupied by King
Vidor and Eleanor Boardman. On the other
hand Eleanor doesn't even need a telescope to
look down on Ina Claire, taking a sunbath in
the Gilbert home just below.

/^N several occasions I noticed Bob \'ignola
^— 'and Eugene O'Brien together, and I was
curious enough to ask about it.

"Friendly with 'Gene?" repeated Yignola.
"Sure. I have to be." He took me into the
tiny patio of his home on Whitley Heights and
pointed upward to where, not ten feet away,
a man's silhouette was visible on a balcony.
"Eugene " ex-plained Vignola, briefly.

98



Later O'Brien dropped in — literally. All he
has to do is to jump. "I always look first to
see whether Bob has the sort of guests I like,"
he said.

One evening Bugs and Tom and another
man and I decided on a quiet card game. We
took every precaution we could think of to
keep our whereabouts private. We rented
room 906 in the Roosevelt in the name of
Roosevelt, and room 1006 in the name of Taft.
We then left the Roosevelt by separate en-
trances, at intervals of a minute, and met at
the corner of Hollywood and Highland, where
we took a taxicab to the i\mbassador.

At the Ambassador we took another taxi-



What a
whale of a
difference
a few hairs
make!







Above, the
suave, slight-
y ironical
Mr. Dennis
King, and
below, Francois
Villon, beggar-
poet and "Vaga-
bond King"

cab to the Biltmore, and from there a bus to
Wilshire Boulevard and La Brea, where
another bus took us to Hollywood and Vine.
We then walked back to the Roosevelt, two on
each side of the street following each other
at forty paces, and wearing false moustaches.

Arrived at the hotel, I went in through the
main entrance, Bugs through the coffee shop
and barber shop, Tom through the ser\'ants'
entrance, and the other man by way of the
door on North Orange Street. We did not take
the elevator; we climbed the stairs to room
1006, where we descended the fire escape to
room 906. Just as we were settled and the
cards were being shufiled and the bottle opened
there was a bang on the door.

"Hey, Bugs!" came a voice. "You guys
got anjthing to drink in there?"

It was, of course, a song writer. Song
writers have every ability of the detective
except the flat feet. They can smell a party
four blocks and six floors away.

Speaking of song ^^Titers and secrets, drastic
measures are being taken by the studios to
keep theme songs from the melody thieves.
The exceptional precautions date from the
time a certain company, with a picture finished,
was without a suitable theme song. The word
was passed to the melody thieves, and for a
week following, song wTiters working for other
studios found themselves the center of pro-
digious entertaining. Fascinating strangers
would ply them with liquor brought especially
by airplane from Mexico, and at the auspicious
moment the subject would be delicately intro-
duced:

"Mannis says the song they've got over to
Universal for 'The Big Sap' is a wow."



The Song Writer: "Oh, yeah? WeU, he
oughta hear the one we just doped out over to
Radio Pictures."

The Melody Thief: "Mannie says it ain't
so hot."

The Song Writer: "Who gave liim a license
to know anything, anyway? Say, if I sang
that song to you, you'd say it was the best I'll
toe-tickler since 'I Ain't Got Anytliing But
Love, Baby.' "

The Melody Thief: "Have another. Aw,
you guys make me tired. All of you think you
got wows when all you do is write one flop
after another."

The Song Writer: "S-a-a-y! Is there a box
in this place? Lemme get to them ivories.
Now, you just Ussen to this — ."

A MOMENT later the melody thief would
-'»• excuse himself and, in privacy, jot down
the melody still being warbled by the soused
songster. And a few weeks afterward officials
of one big company were weeping and wailing
and gnashing because their pet theme song was
ornamenting a rival release.

So now all the song writers have their choice;
they may eat, sleep and compose in the Song
Stockade — a large enclosure framed by a
twenty-foot wall, topped with barbed wire and
broken bottles, \\ith Uving quarters, ice boxes
and a selection of pianos; they must sign and
keep the Pledge; they must allow the company
to assign to them a Special Melody Watchman,
equipped with a gas mask, which he affixes
the moment the song writer shows symptoms
of humming his latest composition; or he may
li\'e with Joe Schenck under the latter's per-
sonal eye. The latter, of course, applies only
to those composers signed by United Artists.
At this writing only one composer has chosen
]\lr. Schenck's hospitahty — Irving Berlin.

When I say you can't get away with any-
thing in HollyAvood, I mean anything, from
walking out of Mr. Mizner's delicatessen
without paying the check to trying to be
prixate with a blonde. Your Night Out in
Hollywood is merely the Beauty Parlor's
morning laugh.

There was the case of the famous dialogue
writer who got himself involved with a certain
equally famous female star, and they decided
on a six months' contract to see whether they'd
hit it off. Neither wanted to marry, partly
because the dialogue writer was married al-
ready. So they hunted the Hollywood Hills
until they came upon a dark, lonely canyon
somewhere north of the Beverlys, and far up in
this forbidding place they found a hunter's
shack, abandoned to the elements by the
hunter who, finding nothing to hunt, had gone
to Catalina to fish.

AND they fixed this shack up with a bath-
room and a sLx-car garage and they moved
out to it, without breathing to a single soul
their whereabouts. And that very night their
Love Nest was the talk of the boulevard, hav-
ing been exposed by (a) a telephone lineman
called to hook up the automatic; (b) a fire
ranger stationed %vith a telescope on a neigh-
boring hill, and (c) a fellow dialogue writer
who lost control of his Stutz driving down the
canyon, and who entered the Love Nest by way
of the kitchen wall.

No; it can't be done, .^nd to anyone who
says it can and who will prove it by presenting
to me a good, washable, sound-proof alibi for
use in emergencies when I don't want to come
home for dinner, I will send my photograph,
personally autographed with the rubber
stamp I purchased on arrival here, and the
address of a place where a silver frame can be
bought at five per cent discount.

But I have no hopes. " Going Hollywood"
to me means — going home.



Photoplay Magazine for December, 1929



99




W C WW ^^ and exauillte Qllt (Rj.no L
ou T l\ A U B w eibeciailu created for (£firutmaL



/^



Qi



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When you write to advertisers piease mention PHOTOPLAY MAGAZINE.




The Other Side



[ CONTINUED FROM PAGE 61

Clarine Seymour had
but one short year of
fame before she fell a vic-
tim of the white plague
after completing "Scar-
let Days." She might
have been one of the
greatest stars of the
screen. She was full of
life and youth — the
Clara Bow of her day,
but more tractable.

CLARINE it was who
introduced the shim-
my to Los Angeles. The
funny wiggle had origi-
nated in a San Francisco
dive, traveled across the
continent to Broadway.
Clarine brought it back
to the coast, and loved
to demonstrate the intri-
cacies of the "shakes"
between scenes.

Robert Harron, the
boy whose life was an
open book, died of a
broken heart. The news-
papers said that he was
shot accidentally. There
are many people who
will tell you that it was
suicide. Bobby's heart
was broken when Rich-
ard Barthelmess was
chosen for the hero in
"Way Down East.''
There had been talk for
a long time that Bobby
and Dorothy Gish would
be married. Johnny
Harron is attempting to
carry on the name in
pictures now. He looks
a great deal like Bobby.

Sometimes the resemblance is almost weird, but Johnny
lacks that certain quality which made Bobby so great.

In "The Rough Riders," Charles Emmett Mack gave a
beautifully poignant death scene. He was carried in the
arms of Charles Farrell, his pal in the picture as in life,
through a line of sharp-shooters, to die. It would be a har-
rowing experience to see, if you knew that somewhere Charlie
Mack was alive and well. It was almost unbearable to watch
the scene and know that Charlie had just died, following an
automobile crash. "Rough Riders" would have meant the
beginning of a great career for him. .\t least he went out in a
blaze of glor>', quiet, likeable Charlie.

STRANGELY enough, one of the last appearances made by
Gladys Brockwell was in a picture wherein she died. It was
the tragic end of a tragic career. After her thorough Griffith
training, and a brief period of fame as a vamp, Gladys almost
dropped from sight. Talking pictures brought her back. A
new and greater career was at hand, but fate willed differ-
ently. She died following a dreadful automobile accident on
busy Ventura Boulevard.

Lillian Gish, the greatest of the Griffith stars, had a diffi-
cult time coming back in other hands. The fragile Duse of
the cinema might never have returned but for her wonderful
performance in "The White Sister," made in Europe.

Even her later pictures at M-G-iSI werenot great bo.x office
attractions. Some of the old spark had gone, and a helpless,
fluttering heroine in this modern day of flappers seemed
quaint and incongruous. Lillian is the enigma of the screen.

100



the Story



The Mary Pickford of the
early, happy days, as she
looked in a picture forgotten
and unknown. This is the
great Mary of the D. W.
Griffith period



Even now she may return and re-
veal herself again as the superb
Griffith star of the past.

Dorothy Gish has never been an
unqualified success away from
Griffith's guiding hand. Even
there she was somewhat over-
shadowed by her sister, Lillian.
For several years she has made pic-
tures abroad. The few efforts to
reach America were received coldly.
Yet, who will forget The Little
Disturber in "Hearts of the World"?

IF Henry B. Walthall had retained
his health he might have been
greater than John Gilbert. The
Little Colonel of " The Birth of aNa-
tion" was a dark-eyed romantic
fellow, and a marvelous actor. Yet
there were many years of illness.
He appeared old and iU. He was
forced to play character parts,
when he should have been cast as
dashing heroes.

He is still ver\- much in demand
for these character parts, but he
has been cheated out of his rightful
destiny. To me, Walthall is the
greatest of the Griffith tragedies,

[ PLEASE TURN" TO PAGE 102 ]




You won't believe this, but it's true. Lillian Gish

and H. B. Walthall in an allegorical scene from the

famous film, "Home, Sweet Home"



Photoplay Magazine for December, 1929



lOl




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I02



Photoplay Magazine for December, 1929




CL REAL PLEASURE & receu>e.
cuuj LefuiiifuL (V1EEKER-IVt/%DE ^ijt



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The Other Side of the Story

[ coNinsriXED from page 100 ]



for Walthall has so much to give to the
screen.

Blanche Sweet, the heroine of one of the first
spectacles, "Judith of Bethulia," is still young
and beautiful, but only recently has she been in
demand. Not since "Anna Christie" has she
had a role worthy of her.

She, too, has fought iUness, business failure
and domestic tragedy.

Then there was the beloved Lillh Siskr in
"The Birth of a Nation," the working girl, in
"Intolerance," and the frail flower of "The
White Rose" — Jlae Harsh.

Mae played hookey from school one daj' to
watch her older sister, Jlarguerite, work with
Griffith.



Online LibraryMoving Picture Exhibitors' AssociationPhotoplay (Volume 36 – 37 (Jul. - Dec. 1929)) → online text (page 131 of 145)