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

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into the little room through a loud speaker in
an angle of the roof.

On Tuesday she continued in the part of an
amorous sentry, but that evening, having
dabbled in enough society novels to refer
to a headache as migraine, she sidetracked Mr.
Slipe with that excuse. He departed regret-
fully, and ten minutes later a sprightly Rosie
jumped into her car and headed for the home
of the head electrician. Braving the suspicious
glances of his wife, she herded him into a cor-
ner, talking in pungent undertones, and only
came up for air after fi\e minutes of high

"You begin the moment they go to lunch.
Red," she ended. "Carlos will give you a hand,
so your helpers won't have a chance to know
what's doing. .'\s soon as that Httle rat comes
back, you whistle a few bars of something as a
signal — so long as it isn't Sonny Boy."

"Count on me," said Red, with open admi-
ration, " and how about finishing the job with a
sock in the nose?"

Rosie shook her head, thanked him with a
few optical revolutions and rolled away to call

|||\i^ coot and





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on the magnificent Hoople. After that fol-
lowed a short conversation with Carlos and
then she reached Joyce's Cleary's bungalow
where the two girls engaged in one of those
verbose conferences beloved of their sex.

"So, go to lunch with him, you poor kid,"
advised Rosic, as she departed, "and keep him
as long as possible. When you come back
steer him around where you'll see a piece of silk
lied to the monk's cloth. It's out of sight of the
stage and you can start an argument there."
And bending quickly, she kissed the ingenue
with the tenderness of a sister.

Emerson worked in dismal solitude from
nine until twelve and then ambled through the
various lots on his way to lunch with a strange-
ly docile Miss Cleary.

At twelve-two Carlos locked the studio
and worked feverishly with Red and Mr.
f-foople until twelve-thirty, at which time
he admitted Rosie with the bewildered Abie
in tow.

"Leave the door open," said the star, as she
noticed a fragment of lilac silk on the dun cur-

"Good work, boys." She led the way to
the monitor booth, whose door hung crazily
ajar, its lock smashed and hinges loose. Before
il stood the dignified Mr. Hoople, flourishing a
carpenter's wrecking tool as mute evidence.
Kosie beckoned the men inside.

""NJO time to go into details," she said hur-
•^^ riedly, "but just look at this mixing panel.
Those dial knobs look like the ones on your
radio, don't they? Well, each one is con-
nected with its own 'mike.' And notice that
each dial is numbered from zero to twenty-
one — that means the amount of transmission

"Got it? Now, watch tliis other knob
over here — the volume control — the lowest
number on it means the highest tone, and by
blending it with any one of those mixer knobs
you get the proper pitch. You add or subtract
transmission units, whichever you need to
make any voice sound properly."

"A system!" said Abie. " JiggUnk it's got to
have, the same as when I try to get Blexico

"Exactly," nodded Rosie, just as a warning
whistle from Red shriUed through the air.
"Quiet, everybody." She threw the tiny
switch for the dial in the upper left hand corner
of the mixing panel, and crouched alertly over
the table.

"Well," issued Mr. Slipe's voice from the
loud speaker. "What's on your mind?"

"Just this," came Joyce's smooth alto,
"I've decided there's nothing WTong with my
voice and I believe you're dehberately spoiling
it. You "

"She didn't sound like that the other day,"
w hispered Mr. Zoop. " Such a slippery sleek-
ness it has now."

Rosie waved him to silence as Emerson
brayed recklessly, "What are you going to do
about it if I am? I told you I could make or
break you, and I'm doing it, girlie."

"You can't sneer at me just because you're
chasing Rosie Redpath," said Joyce hotly.
As the ^vords spilled into the booth Rosie
gradually maneuvered the dials until the tone
was one of grating huskiness, while her em-
ployer listened apoplecticaUy. "I'll tell Abie,"
threatened the alto, softened again to a mellow

"npHAT crackpot," said ]Mr. SUpe scornfully.

•'- "He's got all he can do to keep that fat
Momma of his from finding out where he
spends his night off. Why, the poor "

Mr. Zoop could restrain liimself no longer.
"Gonoff!" he roared, stumbhng from the
booth and down the stairs with Carlos close
behind. The stage was crossed in a few
squirrel-like bounds and the perspiring presi-
dent catapulted through an opening in the
monk's cloth to confront his traducer.

"Voices you'll wreck, ha?" he wheezed.
"Believe me, a crook like you could hide
behind a pretzel."

"Why, Mr. Zoop," said Emerson, "I fail to
understand "

"Never mind the breast heaving," cut in
Carlos. "There's a nice, shiny, sensitive mike
under that bit of silk, my bucko, and some job
it was for Red and me to move it in a hurry.
Hoople jimmied your always locked door and
Rosie twirled the knobs for us. She proved
that you're gypping Cleary, so it looks like
you're all washed up."

Mr. Siipe paled to a sickly chartreuse.
" Rosie?" he quavered." No, she wouldn't "

" (~^H, yes, I would, dearie," announced the
^^lady, edging around the curtain. "Didn't
I spend two mushy days with you to find out
what went on? Oh, boy, what a price that was
for experience. But I suppose you thought
it was on the level because you're smart enough
to know we movie people can't act."

"You ain't got a contract," reminded Mr.
Zoop, "so get your week's pay and run, don't
walk, to the nearest exit. I can get another
sample from your factory."

"Ooh!" squealed Miss Bellairs, coming into
view. " Is dear Mr. SUpe leaving us?"

"By request," said Carlos.

Something; of a Tenth Avenue genesis
glinted through Magnolia's Broadway veneer
as she surveyed the deluded Emerson. "So
you're the little guy who was going to place
stage people in the movies for two thousand
commissipn. You told my soubrette that your
recommendation would do the trick. Why,
j'ou can't even promote yourself."

"So that's what he was after," said Joyce.
"He'd have sunk the lot of us in a year."

"Well," twittered Magnoha, "all this
doesn't concern me. I was chosen by your
eastern manager, and here I am."

"But not for long," said .\bie. "Without
gettink personal, Miss Bellairs, I seen your
rushes and I'm sorry to say your face ain't
as smooth as your voice. It's better you
should startle Broadway after this picture is

While Magnolia was assembling a retort Mr.
Hoople barged forward in his stateliest man-

"A very wise decision, Mr. Zoop," he de-
clared imprcssi\ely.

"We are on the threshold of a new era and
it seems to me that j'our tried and true
players can learn to talk equally as well as
the New Yorkers who'd have been out here
long ago if they could have qualified

"Furthermore," said Mr. Hoople, feehng
rather yeasty, "I don't believe the public
will ever worship voices to such an ex-
tent that they wiU write in for a picture of
somebody's tonsils, %vhereas," he gently
hugged the blushing Joyce and Rosie to his
starchy bosom, "these young beauties are
probably reposing on chiffoniers all the way
from Lowell to Los .\ngeles."

" CUCH fancy words," approved Mr. Zoop,
'-'"and eighty-nine per cent of them is cor-
rect, Hoople. I guess maybe our people will be
talkink before them theatrical actors find out
that tempo ain't an EyetaUan juggler."

"Sure we \vill," enthused Rosie, taking the
center of the stage. "Listen to this: 'Speed on
to the sun-stained West, but first, kiss me. I
cannot wait for darkness.' "

" You won't have to ask twice, particular if
you roU them eyes," said Abie. "What's it

"It's some of the gab from my next picture,
'Tiger Man,' " the star informed hirn. "Get
this; 'Crush me in your arms for this is love
at first sight. Dominate me 1' Hot stuff, eh?"

"Swell," applauded Mr. Zoop.

"Say, listen, did you hear a funny noise?
A gasp with a lot of horrible gulpink?''

Rosie laughed happily across at the radiant
Miss Cleary. "The theme song is kind of
sappy," she lilted. " 'The magic of moonlight
— and you,' but it all depends on your audience.
Don't worry about that noise, Abie, I've got an
idea it's only Httle Emerson taking the air."

Evoiy advert ispmont in rllOTOrLAT MAGAZINE is eu.aranteed.

Photoplay Magazine — Advertising Section


How They Manage
Their Homes


upon a charming secluded patio, where, as early
as January, a huge bush of white camelhas was
blooming proudly. Above a handsome Eight-
eenth Century divan hangs a portrait of
Corinne, by Tade Styka, set off by handsome
electrified old candelabra on either side.

On the grand piano is a large Dresden figure
of great value. Such rare pieces abound in the
room, including some sculptured pieces in ro.'-e
quartz which stand upon a quaint, old hand-
painted Italian secretary.

T30UQUETS of china or glass flowers also ap-
■'-'pear in many parts of the house. Two huge
Sixteenth Century crystal chandeliers hang
from the ceiling of the living room. Lovely
shaded lamps on low tables stand cosily beside
the chairs. The fireplace, which burns coal and
wood, has very old andirons. It is topped by a
French mirror. The thick carpet is cnjc-oii-luil.

The dining room chairs and table are from
an old French chateau, upholstered in faded
old pink moire silk, still unimpaired. Upon a
raised dais in the window stands a tall flower
stand filled with gay yellow and green gorse.
A taupe carpet (always carpets, ne%'er small
rugs) sets off the rich Fortuny draperies of dull
green. A tall, carved Madonna, sculptured
from solid crystal, adorns the sideboard. A
tall brocaded screen conceals the pantry door.

Lovely chinaware of modern Viennese design
is in this pantry, every imaginable kind of
exquisite glassware, etched, cut, moulded in
the Italian manner, in gold and rose. Very
little silver, e.-ccept the champagne and cocktail
glasses. Tall table candlesticks, glass serving
plates — enough of each kind to serve a buffet
supper party for two dozen or more. The
buffet supper party is the Moroscos' favorite
method of entertaining. The sink basin here
is of aluminum, like those on board great ocean
liners, and rubber mats of pure white protect
the fine glass\vare from the tiled sink, which
might chip it.

On to the kitchen, where the cook holds
sway. One whole wall is for the huge electric
refrigerator, another for the cook stove with
every modern equipment. In a drawer are
kept dozens of menus, carefully worked out for
both company and family dinners. A repre-
sentative family dinner is:

Onion soup with Parmesan cheese


Veal cutlet, green beans and creamed


Broccoli, with Hollandaise sauce

Chocolate pudding Black coffee

.Sometimes a fruit cocktail, or an oyster cock-
tail supplants the soup. That chocolate pud-
ding is no ordinary pudding — modest as it
sounds. It is Walter's favorite dish and there-
fore often appears on a company menu, too.

Here is a representative company menu:

Caviar canapes

Fruit cocktail (or oysters on shell)

Broiled lobster

Vol-au-vent mushroom and sweetbreads

Roast or fillet or turkey

Two vegetables Radishes

Roquefort cheese salad
Chocolate ice cream Cafe noir

BY which you will observe that Corinne ap-
proves of that cook's sweetbreads and choc-
olate confections. The cook also makes all the
rolls, biscuits, cakes, pastries. She says, "Mr.
and Mrs. Morosco like many cheeses very

Excepting Sunday, Walter and Corinne
never lunch at home, but in Corinne's lovely
bungalow at the First National Studio. Their
breakfast is very meagre, as noted before —
even Walter only nibbles a bit of toast with his


. . , out the preceding sunourn is torture

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© D. G. 1929


Doroiliy Gray Building


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Photoplay Magazine — Advertising Section



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coffee. But their Sunday lunch is really a
breakfast — bacon and eggs, baked apples,
toast and jam, eaten at 12:30, when they return
from church. For Corinne and Walter are
regular church-goers.

Off the kitchen is the little jazzy breakfast
room, all red furniture and saucy gay curtains.
The servants eat here.

Now we must peep into that famous
"Whoopee Room," which Corinne says is
essentially practical. This, too, is fully car-
peted in that heavy taupe waterproof stuff —
that mil stand lots of bad treatment and ciga-
rette stubs, and spilt drinks.

The furniture is all very low; deep, low
chairs, decked with gay, hard-wearing silk; low
tables, equipped for smokers, readers, and
card players. A big fireplace — but for gas,
imitating coal mthout any dirt.

TLTERE are all sorts of musical instruments —
-*- -'•wicked looking horns, saxophones, trum-
pets, drums. Magazines galore, like a news-
stand. A table with a half-finished puzzle —
Corinne is the puzzle fiend and even works
them out on the lot between scenes.

The radio is in the upper hall, just outside
the library door, so it is heard through the pro-
jection balcony, which looks down into this

(.\ valuable gramophone of huge dimensions
adorns the living room, but it is shrouded in an
alcove and so does not intrude upon the period

Plate glass covers all the low tables, so that
spilling things won't hurt the polish. The
drapes are of orange and silver. Queer comic
etchings adorn the walls.

.\bove this is another play-room — but they
call it an "outdoor kitchen." One reaches it
by some stone steps from the patio, and it
gives the impression of a ship's deck. Reed
furniture, a couple of bright rugs on the tiled
floor, a dining table — and a huge barbecue fire-
place with grill, where summer-night supper
parties are enjoyed. Cushions are covered
with black patent leather, and gay striped
a^vnings can be lowered for wind or sun shields.

npHERE arc six servants altogether. The
^ butler, who is really the housekeeper, does
most of the purchasing and receives S150 a
month. The cook gets S12S; the upstairs maid
receives S85; Corinne's personal maid receives
S75; and the chauffeur-gardener is paid S45
weekly. Then there is the maid who attends
Corimie at the studio and keeps the lot-
bungalow clean at S25 weekly. Corinne says
she has never had such an harmonious house-
hold and she loves each one of them. The
butler acts as valet to Walter.

.Ml the laundry is sent out — silk bedclothes
and all — but Corinne has had the same private
laundress for years, who takes it all to her own
home. It costs about SI2 a week.

Out in the Httle patio where the white
camellias Ijlooni so handsomely, there is an
adorable little Italian fountain, set in the midst

of the flagged courtyard, where grass grows
between the stones. The large lawn outside
the house at the corner may be transformed
into a swimming pool, hence for the present it
is allowed to remain just a lawn, and the special
floral treasures are reserved for the smaller
garden and the patio.

An average day for Corinne and Walter is
breakfast in bed at 7 A. M. Discussion with
the cook about the evening menu. Rise at 8.
To the studio at 9. "We are very lucky," says
Corinne, "because my contract reads that I
need only work from 10 A. M. to 6 P. M."
Walter is now executive producer of Corinne's

They meet for lunch in Corinne's utterly
charming bungalow on the lot, which is com-
plete with living room, bedroom, dressing
room, bathroom and kitchen. The bathroom
here is a huge one, aU done in American beauty
tiles, and big enough to turn handsprings in.

Then home at 6 P.M. Dinner at 7:30. They
rarely go out in the evening, and then prefer
Saturday nights, so they can sleep late Sunday.
They like picture shows and theaters — or pos-
sibly go to a friend's house for bridge or
dancing. But they prefer to entertain at home,
their special intimates being the Niblos, the
Fitzmaurices, the Nagels and the Axchen-

"PORTUNATELY, Walter likes the husbands
■'- and Corinne likes the wives — Enid Bennett,
Diane Fitzmaurice, Kitty Archenbaud, Ruth
Nagel, Norma Shearer aU being Corinne's
special women friends. Jack Gilbert is a fre-
quent visitor, too.

They belong to the Los Angeles Tennis Club,
and both the Xiblos and Fitzmaurice? have
tennis courts, so this forms an after-church
recreation on Sundays. In the summer there
are swimming parties — nearly all their Holly-
wood friends ha\e them — so that is why that
lawn may be a swimming pool yet.

Corinne loves to sew. (Nevertheless, her
personal maid darns Walter's socks.) But
Corinne can make her own clothes, and she
designs all her frocks, both for private and pro-
fessional wear.

They own three dogs — "Ritz," the big fel-
low who watches the house, "Pal," the wire-
hair, whom Corinne took in when he was dying
and fed him up; and " Raider," a saucy terrier.
The latter two accompany them to the studio

I asked Corinne whether the advent of a
little Walter and little Corinne was indefinitely

"Oh, no, I hope not. I want children. But
one's contracts do interfere so awkwardly,
don't they?" she asked, almost wistfully.

Corinne says that Walter pays all the house
bills, but that she, Corinne, pays all the
servants. "No, we haven't a budget, but we
manage to keep our expenditures about the
same most of the time," she told me.

I think myself they are "putting by" enough
for little Walter and little Corinne.

The Girl Jack Gilbert Married


Not that you notice any of these things when
you first meet her. You are conscious only of
her personality, her overwhelming, throbbing
pcrsonalit)', as disturbing as a necklace of
diamonds, as definite as a splash of lipstick on
the face of a pallid woman.

It was back in my newspaper days that I
interviewed Ina. She was an old friend of my
paper's dramatic editor and he wanted a story
on her. So he told me to go and get it.

I was very willing, but Miss Claire was not.
She didn't care for interview-s, she said, via her
press agent, and most certainly she wouldn't
give out an interview before or during her per-

formance. If I would persist in seeing her I
could come after the show.

She was a very big star on Broadway even
then, its little girl w-ho had come up from the
Follies to the w-hite lights of dramatic comedy.
So I came after the show. I came one night,
two nights. Each time I got dismissed.

The third night I said I'd wait, and wait I
did. I sat firmly on a chair outside her dressing
room door while the stage hands struck the set
and the electricians doused the lights and the
great, empty theater got colder and the night
blacker, and midnight became a dim memory
in a forgotten past. And I determined that if

Erery advertisement in PHOTOPLAY MAGAZINE is guaranteed.

Photoplay Magazine — Advertising Section

ever I got in to see this upstage star I would

Online LibraryMoving Picture Exhibitors' AssociationPhotoplay (Volume 36 – 37 (Jul. - Dec. 1929)) → online text (page 14 of 145)