Photoplay (Jan - Jun 1931)

A Couple of Great Screen Youngsters The Pride of the House of Green as she looks in "Tom Sawyer." Older film players do honor to Mitzi as a first rate artist of the screen w *E used to have such fun, but I guess he's getting too old for me." How many women have sighed that sigh! But this time it comes from a ten-year-old woman, Miss Mitzi Green, who takes her disillusionment with gallant composure. " It all began when I first went to Hollywood," Mitzi sighed, referring to the engaging young man on the page opposite. " Junior and I lived in the same apartment house. We had such good times. We played tennis on the roof. We went riding. "Then one day father went riding with us. He didn't want to, but we insisted. And he fell off his horse. His arm was broken. I thought he was dead. It was terrible. We had to rush him to the hospital. Of course, he wasn't very cordial to Junior while wc were taking him to the hospital. I guess Junior got offended. Anyway, he didn't come over to play after that. "He's fifteen, though. Maybe he only thought he was getting a little too old for me." Mitzi is as wise as she is talented. Leon Janney's a nice boy, 36 "He's Getting Too Old For Me/" Sighs Mitzi Green too. And he's only thirteen. And there was Jackie Coogan, charming, with whom she had to be in love for "Tom Sawyer." It is work, after all, which means everything to Mitzi. Working is such fun. She catalogues her pictures by the amount of fun she had making them. "We had the most fun making 'The Santa Fe Trail,' " she recalls. "Junior and I just rode and rode. We had a grand time. 'Tom Sawyer' was fun, too. Jackie and Junior and I were together. ""V/OU know, as Becky, I had to play love scenes with Jackie. J \\ e had a terrible time. We just couldn't keep from grinning. I hadn't much to do in the picture, but I guess playing a straight part was good experience for me." She's deep, this brilliant ten-year-old movie star. As unlike a stage child as you hope and expect from her dazzling screen personality. Mitzi is a real little girl, so frankly childish she's refreshing. She plays kid games. She enjoys kid toys. She is bored by sustained conversations. And she's taking up bridge so she won't have to talk to adult interviewers for any longer time than it takes her to produce the cards. Her parents appreciate her self-sufficiency and resourcefulness. They let her meet the public without coaching, prompting or even their presence in the room. The grown-up stars on the Paramount lot admire and respect her as a superior artist. Every star in New York called on her at the Paramount Theater, while she was making personal appearances. Clara Bow. Nancy Carroll. Mary Brian. All of whom she admires. Junior Durkin called, too. They're still great friends, in spite of the unfortunate incident of papa's horseback ride. "I love Hollywood," says Mitzi. "You can be outdoors all the time. There's so much to do there. The only thing I don't like about it, is that I really haven't girl friends." Women might find Mitzi's great sense of humor and shrewd talent for mimicry rather trying. As they might envy her great success, her captivating charm, her popularity with the boys. BUT that isn't the trouble. Mitzi dislikes the girls. " They won't play like children in Hollywood. They want to go to dances. They act like grownup people. And evervbodv knows grown-up people have very little fun." That can never be said about the roguish Mitzi. She's certainly one of the most remarkable children of her time. A trouper born, batting about vaudeville with^her parents from tothood, she still retains all the charm and sense of fun that distinguishes childhood from the dull elders.