Screenland Plus TV-Land (Jul 1959 - May 1960)

Alone And Lonesome continued from page 23 though I know that the most important thing to a woman is her man. And when work or a war or anything thrusts a wife and husband apart, it's not easy. But then, there's nothing about life that is entirely simplified. Steve's affinity with the Orient is an obstacle but a marriage is something that you have to keep working for — and working out, no matter what the problem." Shirley, for all her youthful 25 years, is a woman of living and loving and deep understanding. "I know," she says, "that there are wives who just simply couldn't be apart from their husbands. It just so happens that I love to spend a great deal of my time alone. I never try to dress or act the part of a movie star; I conform only when it's fun. I don't think hats are fun so I don't own one. And I hate to give parties. I only do it because I have to . . . and then I can't wait until everyone goes home. So, I guess I'm cut out for the solitary life. I listen a lot to music and I read like crazy. When I discovered I didn't know too much except for baseball (I was a whiz on the otherwise all-male junior high team) and dancing, I began to devour the encyclopedia from cover to cover. I'm up to 'Y' now," Shirley declared proudly. The reading is generally done in front of the fireplace, and it's always in action, even if Shirley has to open all the windows and doors. When Steve's home, he reads to her, for Shirley's generally bespectacled blue eyes are weak. READING is fine but the talented actress' greatest joy is a startling and gifted miniature of herself, baby Stephanie, or Sachie, as she is called. At 2^-years-old, red-haired Sachie is a small-sized scene stealer who merrily ^mimics mama's every impish expression or gesture. When that happens Shirley's eyes light up like a neon sign. "Little Sachie," says her big double, Shirley, "is a real ham," In their daily play Sachie learns by imitating and Shirley admits she is always learning to act by imitating, too. And no matter how busy Shirley is (her Paramount co-workers call her Chain-Cang Shirley), this devoted mother manages to play with her daughter every day. Sachie goes to nursery school and is on a 9 to 9 schedule so Shirley can be with her after the day's work. "Sachie is a born mimic," declares mama Shirley, "and I'd be happy to have her become an actress. But not yet" Since the amazingly gifted tyke appeared with her mugging mother on a national magazine cover, Shirley has received 1,500 letters and Sachie has received two TV offers. "When I put the phone down," Shirley giggles, "I gloated over the offers for ten full minutes. I think I was more thrilled than over getting my own Oscar nomination. As you can see, Sachie and I are very good friends and see eye to 58 eye on most things. But she really has got to stop beating up all the little boys she meets." And after the unpleasantness of having her tummy pumped out when she ate some pills she found on Shirley's night table, Sachie won't try that again. But she still tears up her dolls and feeds them and her lunch to her Boxer, Caesar. Sachie, Caesar and Shirley all like the imposing Japanese-modern glass and stucco house they've recently acquired in the elegant Royal Oaks section of the San Fernando Valley, even if they have no swimming pool like all the neighbors. Shirley, an inveterate furniture-moverarounder, is busy finding space for the Oriental treasures Steve sends. "I'm very domestic," she explains, "though I can dance better than I can cook. This is the first home we've owned, and I picked it because it's in a neighborhood with lots of kids. I love children and I intend to have four of my own." Shirley looked through the wall of glass into the beautiful Japanese garden with the two-ton antique stone lantern Steve had shipped home, and she said simply: "Children are the hope of the world." Though she loves the new house, she'd still prefer living in Japan. She's been there twice and can't wait to return. "The Oriental way of life is appealing because it's so simple. The people take time out to enjoy little things, get down to basics. You won't find many ulcers in Japan." And she gets mad when people raise their eyes at the Oriental custom of eating raw fish. "What do you call herring or lox on bagel or that fancy sturgeon?" she asks them, pointing out that her market on the Boulevard sells pickled octopus. Shirley's own eating habits are strictly nonconformist, too. Like many people who live alone she forgets to eat and sees nothing odd in broiling herself a steak for dinner at 2 a.m. If she's very hungry and eats a big dinner, she'll run around the block until she feels better. And when she works intensively for three or four days on dancing routines for a big TV show, she'll live on hot fudge sundaes, explaining, "They give me the energy that I need." NOR can she go to sleep like other people. Exercise has become a way of life after all these years of dancing. So she goes through a violent routine every morning and night. She's also a tremendously hard worker who thrives on a nightmare of split-second engagements. But recently while making "Ask Any Girl," rehearsing for a big TV show, and getting ready to go into her latest picture, "Career," Shirley was beat to the knees. Her doctor put her in a hospital but she stayed only one day. Sometimes the Liveliest Art can be the Deadliest. But Shirley, who believes one must live life to capacity, takes her "hot property" SHIRLEY admits that being apart from Steve isn't easy but insists "nothing about life is." status coolly. "I die when I'm not busy," she says. "Work is my recreation; I have no hobbies though I can play violin, piano, flute, trombone and I'm a whip on the castanets. ("So I make a little noise.") Just what kind of person is Shirley MacLaine? Pixie, little girl, lost gamin? Madcap or sprite? None of these tags conveys the many-sided individualist whose behavior often confuses Hollywood. Though she doesn't drink, one moment she is the life of the party — brash, frank, uninhibited, always "on stage"; the next, she is silent and withdrawn. "I'm a selfintoxicator," she has said. "I don't need a drink to be the drunkest at a party. But I run down. When I'm quiet I'm recharging my batteries." She's also a born worrier, says a coworker. "Shirley gives the impression of being in a constant state of thinking about something else. She's never sure just where she is or why she's there, and she worries about where she's supposed to be next. She does it all so charmingly, being possessed of the kind of little girl appeal rarely associated with professional dancers. It's the same kind of appeal Marilyn Monroe has and Shirley displayed it to marvelous advantage in 'Some Came Running.' You want to take her on your lap and assure her that everything will be all right. "Shirley says she's so thrifty she will snap up any bargain. She once told me she started the 'sack' look in Hollywood because she bought a dress at half-price, reduced because the belt was missing. Yet she once forfeited more than a thousand dollars in rent by moving out on a lease, saying the place depressed her. That was a couple of years ago when she wasn't making the money she is now. "Clothes mean nothing to her. She'll appear late and breathless for a luncheon date wearing a rumpled cotton blouse, unpressed slacks and a sweater designed for continued on page 69