Screenland (Oct 1923-Mar 1924)

Introducing Some Unimportant People I By Anna Vrophater . N playing around film circles You meet a lot of unimportant people. "JPhere is, for instance, The newest -feminine star from Hollywood. She never has been to New York before And, my dear, she is dreadfully excited. She lives at the Ritz and she hands The management a great laugh. Her telephone calls are so important. Positively, she can't walk down Fifth Avenue, my dear, Without being recognized by everyone. Isn't that funny? You bet it is. She buys her clothes at the most expensive shops And tells you all about it. The saleswomen see her coming, add her up for a sucker And tack a hundred dollars onto the price. The press agent gives her a luncheon at the Biltmore And tells her to eat with her fork, Which is too ridiculous because she comes From a fine old Southern family. But she is going right back to Hollywood, Much as she enjoys the theatres and operas, Because, after all, she is nothing but a simple home-girl. Simple is right. A, .nd there is the scenario writer Who is always on his way to an important conference. Every scene he writes is a knock-out And if the director doesn't like it, Well, he knows where he can get off at. Some day scenario writing will be recognized as an Art And then the scenario writer will get his due. And it's high time. He has sold some of the best situations That Sardou ever wrote. He gets big prices for his stuff, And can you stake him to ten dollars? If he didn't know how to play poker He'd starve to death in two weeks. Which wouldn't be a calamity. T here is the debutante who wants to break in pictures. She is a riot in the Junior League shows And played the Spirit of Mockery At the Greenwich Bazaar for Disabled Traffic Cops. She has had her pictures in all the Sunday papers And her friends tell her she would go great In the movies. She feels that she has more dramatic ability Than anyone on the screen. Which isn't saying much. She studied aesthetic dancing Until she was mercifully seized With tonsillitis.. 30 C5he has longed to act Ever since she was a little, bitta, wee girl. So, will you please give her a letter To one of those dear, quaint movie men? Honestly, society may kid her all it likes But she knows the public will understand. Isn't it terrible? No one will take a rich girl seriously. Yes, isn't it? A, _nd there is the star Who will see you for an interview If you promise not to print a Word he says. He just wants to talk things over With a sympathetic person. Honestly, you might think that His company would appreciate. Honestly, now, wouldn't you? But he'd rather be a bricklayer Than only a bird in a gilded cage At $2,000 a week. Honestly, now, isn't it a shame ? The way he only gets the worst stories And the worst directors And the worst casts and the worst settings. Lonestly, now, isn't it a crime? The exhibitor knows that he Is the best friend the box office ever had But, honestly, now, the way He's treated at the home office You'd think he was somebody's First wife's mother. And, as he sits there And cries into his soup And tells you how unhappy he can be On $2,000 a week. our whole heart goes out To those poor producers Who would gladly muss up His $2,000 a week face If it wasn't against the law, "Don't print what I say," He tells you, "But if you'll just let it slip That my artistic destinies Are being stifled By old commercialism I'll be your friend for life." Friend for life! Heaven forbid!