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Buster From Greta Garbo With All My Love." She had her choice of three apartments the next day. The collar did the trick.
The public, who are growing so impatient with the endless trail of war pictures, should know how the studios are stuck with even more of them because, it is said, our Government wants them. And, wonders Hollywood, could there be a softening up of Nazi character on the screen due to the fact they expect beaten Naziland to proffer early peace measures and they want we shouldn't be so mad as we once were? Some people are crazy enough to think so.
The steady stream of publicity men and workers from every department of every studio is leaving the town facing a famine of news and famine of newsmakers and news-givers. But trust old Cal to dig up every smidgeon of gossip he can. And you don't need point rationing for our news. It's all yours 'cause we love you. Honest.
Friendship: They met, for the first time in a year, in a Beverly Hills shop — Lt. Clark Gable who was on leave and Virginia Bruce. A hearty handshake was followed by an invitation to dinner and so began a renewed friendship between two people who had suffered grievous loss. It was several months ago that Virginia's husband, producer J. Walter Rubin, passed away, leaving behind his own child and his stepdaughter, whose father was the late Jack Gilbert.
Their mutual loss and sorrow seemed to draw together these two splendid people and Gable spent many happy hours in the home of Virginia and her children before he returned to camp.
Recently a Los Angeles newspaper
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editor was startled by a wire from a Colorado girl announcing her engagement to Gable. It turned out that on a two-day leave, Gable, like any lonely soldier, had gone to an ice rink in Colorado Springs and invited the young lady to skate. That was enough to send her pellmell to a telegraph station.
So it's no wonder that during his leave the embittered man found solace in the quiet dignity of the home of his friend Virginia Bruce.
Close Ups and Long Shots: The whipping post law was passed in California to take care of husbands or fathers who beat their wives or children. But oddly enough the worst "whipping post" punishment of the month was inflicted by certain film stars upon their own fellow actors. Hollywood has never seen or heard anything like it.
The Actors Guild meeting was crowd
ed with practically every performer in town when President James Cagney took the stand and explained the meeting had been called to chasten the members among them who had failed to respond to the Victory Committee's pleas to entertain our boys. Fur, mostly mink, flew in every direction.
Then Kay Kyser took the platform. "You," he stormed, pointing to several big name glamour girls, "with your mink coats and fine cars. Who bought those for you but the very boys out there who are dying for some kind of entertainment? You," he pointed again, "who refused to go on camp tours because you didn't like your spot on the bill. And you, who sulked and stayed home because you couldn't take your own hairdresser. And you who gave as an excuse the fact you didn't like the publicity man who was going!"
All about were the wide smiles of