Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Jul 1929)

46 Hollywood Higk LigKts one could mount him. Part of his intensive discipline was being f orced "to wear a Spanish bit, which only made him wilder and caused him to lash his tongue, a condition which, in addition to an operation, has necessitated the animal's having a constant attendant. Thomson is the only man who was able to ride and manage Silver King. It is doubtful if he would ever accept a new master. Roberts' Voice Lives On. The voice of Theodore Roberts was recorded in a sound picture before he died. He will be heard in some of the scenes of the Pathe production, "Noisy Neighbors." It is the only talking film in which he took part. Another interesting aftermath of his death is that two of his old pals, Robert Edeson and Hobart Bosworth, are to be seen and heard in a version of "The Man Higher Up," which the veteran character actor played on the vaudeville stage. Roberts came into personal touch with many people who knew his screen performances, during the tours that occupied his last years, and many saw him in his popular sketch. Sing Me a Song. Enterprise ! That's what one would call the news that Al Jolson is to engage in the song-publishing business, in connection wich his film activities. He is reported as going in with Jack Warner, the producer. Song writing has grown to be one of the most important by-products of pictures. The popularity of "Jeanine," "Sonny Boy," "Ramona," "Sally of my Dreams," and "Neapolitan Nights" have attested this. They have all been big hits. What's more, the new season will bring a lot of new ones. "Broadway Melody" is expected to yield a winner called "You're For Me." There are any number of composers working at the studios, banging them out, or whatever it is that tin pan alley artists do when they are invoking the muse. Just to add to the competition, Ramon Novarro has written a song for his own picture, "The Pagan." Considering how musical Ramon is, his number ought to be good and to match his temperament, highly poetic. At the Sign of the Samovar. Has Hollywood "atmosphere"? Many times we have found this question a poser. The artistically inclined find it lacking, they say, beneath the shallow mask of the boulevard's all too obvious sunniness and newness, its occasionally obtruding skyscraper; its jumble of bazaars and trade marts ; its obviously up-to-date and businesslike studios; its fresh and somewhat feverish melange of manses and bungalows. On Hollywood's side streets, however, aspects are different. If you seek a pleasant sense of maturity you will find it there — and perhaps even tradition. Our most enjoyable experience recently was a visit to one of those lesser half-hidden thoroughfares, where the Russian-American Art Club is situated. This hyphenated establishment of culture— gay but not gaudy — is one of the newest attractions for the cinema people. There strange Slavic dishes may be partaken of, while entertainment dimly echoing the ChauveSouris is provided. The night we were there Corinne Griffith was an interested spectator, while to amuse the American visitors, Charley Chase acted as master of ceremonies. The most interesting discovery that we made during the whole evening, though, was that the old-fashioned two-story frame house in which the Russian-American Art Club has its habitat, is the same that echoed to Gerakline Farrar's voice on her first visit to California, long before pictures with sound were ever thought of, and that became the abode later of Tom Mix, during the earlier part of his rise to celebrity. Yes, filmland is accumulating its interesting memories, which one can encounter most unexpectedly. Corinne a Practical Joker. Speaking of Corinne Griffith recalls that she has developed an unsuspected antic disposition. Who would have thought of her as a practical joker? Not long ago she proved her mischievous humor, however, by a trick she played on the business manager of her company. His name is William Goetz. In the spirit, of fun one day at the studio, Corinne induced Goetz to put on a very faky-looking set of whiskers, and to have himself photographed. It was a most ridiculous make-up, and there were laughs enough at the expense of Goetz when his picture was viewed. But did Corinne stop there? She did not. Instead, she had the photograph inserted as a paid advertisement in a casting directors' manual, wherein players expatiate on their talents. The ad read, "William Goetz — Baron von Goetzoff — 'The Winner,' now with Corinne Griffith." Indicating that he was open for further engagements after finishing his work in one of Corinne's pictures. The funny part of it was that several producers rang up the Griffith office and tried to engage him, the story says. A Versatile Performer. Exploiting one's capabilities for the movies has undergone some odd departures since the advent of the talkies. In the same casting directors' handbook, we noted a gentleman who averred the following: "I can work in front of the microphone for talking pictures— meow for the cat, crow for the rooster, imitate the talking dog, and give imitations of any known animal from a little mouse to an Australian wiffenpoof. All character dialects done with character make-up. This ad may sound funny to Raquel Torres warns her quaint pet against taking candy from strangers. you, but that is only half of it. P. S. Sawmills, crying babies, radios, telephone conversations near and far, sizzling radiators, or what have you?" Lest you should be curious, the gentleman's name is Del Ray. At least, we presume it is a gentleman, for surely no lady would act like that! The Passing of a Museum. The revenue was light and the lease ran out and so — 'tis a sad tale, mates — Hollywood no longer has a film museum. Harry Crocker