Modern Screen (Jul-Dec 1945)

a staff sergeant and his bride-to-be. The wedding was set for a Sunday, with SonnyTufts as best man. They bought a ring for the kids, ordered a spread and a wedding cake, reserved a suite at the Mark Hopkins Hotel for the bridal night. On Wednesday morning the bridegroom phoned. "We can't go through with it — ." "Why not?" "My pop won't let me." It seems Pop, the self-respecting father of ten, had hit the ceiling. "No son of mine will be married for stuckups on Nob Hill! For a ring and a piece of cake and his name in the paper!" The p. a. pulled in his horns and silently stole away. He'd meant well. So had they all. But when the story got out, the cheers went to Pop. Personally, I threw my three best hats in the air for him. Of all publicity kickbacks, I think Dennis Morgan's was the saddest. And poor Dennis hadn't even thought of it as a stunt. There was a Marine at the Canteen just before Christmas — a limping Marine, loaded down with Purple Hearts, very modest about his exploits, so modest he refused to be photographed with Joan Crawford. Dennis asked him where he was spending Christmas. The Marine didn't know — "Why not come home with me then? Nothing exciting — just kids and a tree and music and stuff and things — ." It was sheer good will, as I say, that motivated Dennis. But you couldn't expect Warner Brothers to keep it dark. So the story went out and the FBIs came in. Practically woke Dennis up on Christmas morning. The Marine was a phony — phony limp, phony exploits, phony medals. They'd been on his trail for weeks and had tracked him down through kindness of Dennis and the publicity gang. First rule in the p.a. book: Build your stunt 'round a girl. Doug Fairbanks, Jr., was just coming home after a prolonged stay in Europe, and something was needed to focus attention on him. The p.a. went into a huddle with a local sorority. The sorority called its pledges together, told them they'd met all the entrance conditions but one. "Before you qualify, you've got to kiss a movie star. Doug Fairbanks' train gets in at such-and-such a time. 'Nuff sed — ." To erase any hint of the p.a.'s cloven hoof, a boy on the campus had been hired to tip off the papers. As Doug hit the station, girls leaped from behind posts and smeared lipstick all over him. Doug's still looking for the guy who pulled it, and the guy still prefers to remain anonymous. George Glass was responsible for the topper in girl stunts. "So Ends Our Night" — which started Glenn Ford zooming — needed a shot in the arm. One of the bits was played by a pretty Viennese named Greta Rozan, whose only sequence was being heavily cut. He got her to register protest by doing a strip-tease in front of the studio. Each day she'd picket, carrying a placard— "YOU KEEP SNIPPING AND I'LL KEEP STRIPPING—" with the name of the picture in letters a foot high. Each day she'd remove another article of clothing. By the fourth day she was down to her slip, and plastered over every front page in town. By the fifth day, even George got scared. He dashed out, threw a coat over her black bra and panties and dragged her inside. For conspicuous gallantry in action, they gave her a part in "Moon and Sixpence," but her strip-tease proved the climax of her career. Rule No. 2: If you can't use a girl, use animals. In "Zaza," Colbert stepped off a French train, scratching herself. Implication: Fleas. Fleas aren't animals, but of, Foamy War sA¥S'."sTd «».«"' *'ma"1^ it cleanses qur Uuringl silky f uS\y sott anu. W .Wed y°ur hf vet requires no \em bUnd> Jp^W U's ^oomV *°<-°-°*Ky l* ^ It contains no. Super-F^™ factured by q& It c shampoo, raan hamp00 -i Vou, too, in CTwss0utt^Sff «akeS' °° ten cent store, the way « D\,e^oves dandr^oartTnent, or ten {eS. 'Oil <&«*s«w*?o0 •