Picture Play Magazine (Sep 1921 - Feb 1922)

Moranimated News Of the Universal star who from this day forth will play without a costar, but who will share laughing honors with his scenario writer. By H. C. Witwer iiiiil t Ik' ^ To My Gigantic Followin' Dear Sir or Madame: Well, I have just had the exotic pleasure of seein' a short story by my favorite author made into a movin' picture. The deed was done by a comedian with two eccentricities which makes him somethin' of a curiosity in his profession. The eccentricities is as follows, viz: i. He does not claim at each and every opportunity that he is one of the funniest giggle developers which ever cavorted before a camera. 2. He is! This remarkable young man's name in round numbers is Lee Moran, form'ly of the firm of Lyons & Moran and now in the wholesale chuckle business for himself at dear old Universal's City in the land of California, or as the noble-hearted Westerners from New York and Boston says : "God's Own Country !" How the so ever, Lee has a cute little combination office and dressin' room all to himself with his name and the line he is in painted on the door and a equally cute little secretary with — well, apart from that, I talked to her over the phone and as she had never read none of my stories why a interview was arranged in four jiifys and a twinklin'. In a voluptuous tourin' car of a well-known brand, or to get disgustin'ly frank, one of them boilers which has been the plot of manys the joke, I was hustled out to the studio with the break-your-neck speed. The horseless carriage, by the ways, Was furnished by no less than myself at a total cost of upwards of twelve berries, and the first time I get around to it I am goin' to ask Eric Stroheim to get the jack back for me from Carl Laemmle. Well, as they is no doubt that whoever is readin' this document is no more interested in my personal affairs than my wife is, I will get back to the Right Hon. Lee Moran, the victim of this interview. I found the defendant sittin' in the conventional chair readin' the continuity of "Robinson's Trousseau," a short story recently bought for him at a price which wouldst make gibberin' idiots out of all the profiteers in the world if they ever heard the amount. I am not at liberty to name the exact sum. but I am sure that either Mack One knock-out that the scenario hadn't provided for came when H. C. Witwer volunteered to show Lee Moran just how a regular prize-fighter would act. Sennett or Al Christie will be glad to disclose the figure, as that is a old hobby of theirs. How the so ever, I identified myself to Mister Moran, as I familiarly call him, mainly by my long and intelligent nose and as it was nigh two years since I laid a eye on the boy why we devoted possibly a hour and possibly not to praisin' the Golden West to each other. It is silly to try and bring up any topic out here besides California, as they is not nobody extant which will waste as much as a adverb with you on any other subject. If a guy fell out of a airplane and landed on Santa Monica Boulevard the first baby to rush to his assistance wouldst holler in his battered ear: "Ain't this a wonderful climate, hey?" As the matter of fact, it is! I don't blame a Californian for throwin' out his chest — accept it from me, we got the greatest country out here in the world, bar none and — eh — no bars. I say we, because I am goin' to take the plunge and become a permanent resident of Hollywood the minute I can raffle off my igloo in the Far East. Funny how I keep gettin' away from my subject, to ■ Continued on page 99