Picture Play Magazine (Jul - Dec 1929)

70 The Stepchildren Make Whoopee Photo by Bruno Good cooking is the party gift of Gloria Gray, ingenue during working hours. to return it, as he might have changed his mind about the fine." I became acquainted with them about a year ago, these playful, reckless, mercurial stepchildren of Hollywood. Nearly all the young people comprising this particular gang are foreign born, and all of them are pursuing a career. Actors and actresses predominate, with a number of writers and dancers lending variety. Their lives sweep along on precarious artistic seas, to-day in the trough of despondency, to-morrow on the crest of optimism and good fortune. Although they have some of the characteristics of the traditional bohemian, they actually do not belong in that group. Bohemianism usually is indicated by bizarre studios and sunless apartments, in Paul Ellis is a South American whose life is swept along between harmless whoopee and artistic pessimism. a promising habited by young people who work hard at being different. The bohemians of Hollywood, if one may call them such, are surrounded by beacbes and sunsets and gay bungalows. It is not necessary for them to attempt to be different ; nature saw to that. Unlike the annoying, artificial puppets who raced wildly through modern-youth films, talking in a series of labored wisecracks, these young folk have their serious moments, their worthy ambitions, and their surprisingly alert minds. They discuss everything from garlic to grand opera, and read the most striking, if not the most profound, literature. Some of them speak several languages ; some are skilled musicians. An extremely interesting character is Ramon Romero. His father is a Roumanian, his mother a Spanish Jewess. The family name is Moscovisch, but upon entering the writing profession, Ramon changed it to Romeo. Barry Norton kidded him so much that he soon altered it to Romero. At any rate, Ramon is a very interesting individual. When not making whoopee with the gang, he writes scenarios and plays, "The Apache" and "Tropic Madness" being examples of the former. His conversation is smart and entertaining. One of his prime ambitions is to have a stately home with the name "Casa Nova" brazenly topping the front gate. He would think of that. Another conspicuous member of the gang is Marcel de Biraben, brother of Barry Norton. He came from the Argentine a few months ago as correspondent for several Buenos Aires newspapers. These two brothers and Paul Ellis, born Manuel Granado, are the only South Americans in the movie colony. Paul is a reserved and likable chap and, like most of the others, is trying desperately to discard his accent. Four out of five suffer from this ! I must say that Hollywood will lose much of its color and spice, if it is ever recaptured by the Americans. And then there is Gloria Gray, an ingenue of promise, whose success in the movies has been intermittent. She has been working steadily the past few months and, if given the right opportunity, she will score. Remember her as the heroine in "The Girl of the Lim berlost." Gloria is of the Alice White type, with thick, golden hair and immense, blue eyes. She plays the piano, rides splendidly, drives her own car, and cooks. Yes, cooks. I've seen her, and I've eaten the food she has prepared. Recently at the home of one of the girls we enjoyed a spaghetti dinner which was cooked and served by members of the gang. The food was excellent, the diners at their gayest, and my only regret was that the conversation which flashed above that merry board could not have been recorded in shorthand. "How much garlic did you put in this spaghetti ?" asked Ramon of the chief cook. "About twelve heads," said Ruffo. "You use more than that when you make it at my place," remarked Ramon. Continued on page 106