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at least I'll have a lot of fun kicking the things around.
I'll begin with Gable. I'll probably end with him, too, the rakehell Romeo, going around making nice girls dissatisfied with their nice, young men with outboard-motor chests and all.
A glamorous woman star once said to me that Gable is the idol of several dozen continents because he is a MAN. Which didn't strike me as a startlingly. original observation. I'd thought of that myself. Pressed to amplify, the iovely Norma — there, I've gone and let the Shearer out of the bag! — went on to explain that by "MAN" she means that Gable has, tripledistilled, the "things" which women — and men, too — consider applicable to a man when he is very /ze-mannish, that is. dogs, hunting, pipes, tweeds (and the smell of pipe and tweeds), leather jackets, trailers, the Big Woods, the sea and all that.
But is that all or isn't it? Is it possible that a Gable without the Gable eyes, stripped of the Gable smile, divorced from the Gable shoulders would still cause women seizures? Is it only that essence of ruggedness, of he-mannishness which women find lacking in their own less virile males which makes them, long for a Gable? I doubt it. I feel reasonably certain that my Young Man Of The Theatre Lobby— and many like him— has a dog, a pipe, a suit of tweeds, and is handy with rod and gun. Yet the eyes of the girl on his arm were bemused with Gable.
It occurs to me that putting exactly the right ingredients in exactly the right "package" has a deal to do with charm, masculine and feminine. I mean, give to quiet Franchot Tone the lustiness of Gable and the result (Confined on next page)
I *
James Stewart appeals to the maternal instinct. Anyhow, his star is rising.
No player on the screen has weathered tougher going than Robert Taylor. He's got something!
In "Lucky Night" the fightingest of the heroes shows he is still a romantic actor even if he can punch.
for May 1939
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