Silver Screen (Jun-Oct 1940)

Silver Screen for June 1940 67 Hollywood Visits Your Home Town ! [Continued from page 3 3] Treacher seemed to be a solid foundation for "situation"' comedy; Helen Parrish and Marjorie Weaver had youth and charm, and Douglas MacPhail and Betty Jaynes were sure-fire show-stoppers. The two vaudeville acts added to these served as insurance: I knew what Peg-Leg Bates and Vivian Fay could do, because I'd seen them do it on vaudeville stages. But deciding on the players I wanted, and GETTING them were horses of different colors. Miss Parrish, it developed, was scheduled to go' into the next Deanna Durbin picture which would start the same week my company would be leaving Los Angeles. The studio suggested instead Nan Grey, also of the Durbin pictures. That was agreeable. A hitch developed immediately. Miss Grey, newly-married to Jockey Jack Westrope, didn't want to leave Los Angeles. She finally yielded at her husband's insistence. He pointed out that the experience and publicity she would receive were valuable assets. I was very happy about the ease of the whole thing. The next morning, the studio called. Did I know that Miss Grey's contract called for her to be accompanied by a girl companion? I said that inasmuch as she was a married woman, and inasmuch additionally as several mothers would be along on the trip, there was no need for chaperonage. Miss Grey was adamant. Her contract said that she rated a girl companion on a personal appearance tour and that was that. Inasmuch as I'd already wired her name to the booking offices of the vaudeville circuits, and they had approved her, I was fairly over a barrel. I said that all right, I would spend $200 additional and provide railroad fare and expenses for the girl companion. The next day, the manager of Miss Grey telephoned. "You understand, of course," he said, apologetically, "that you will also have to pay Miss Grey's girl companion a salary of $70 per week." By this time, I was becoming a trifle slap-happy. "And of course," he pointed out, apologetically, "Miss Grey must have $5 a day for a hotel room; $6 a day for her meals; $10 a week for her laundry and a separate drawing account for taxicabs, tips, etcetera." Well, I got out of that deal as quickly as possible, believe me, because I feared that Miss Grey probably next would want the theatres to give her fifty per cent of the profits. Not that I blame her; she was driving as hard a bargain as her contract permitted. I told her that I thought it would have been wiser for her to be a mite more reasonable because the stage experience certainly would have benefited her, and the tour itself through key cities would have enhanced her studio value. And mind you, over and above all expenses, I would have been paying her the same weekly salary that her studio pays her. From any viewpoint, she had a lot to gain, and nothing to lose. With a few gray hairs added to my crop, I continued to line up an act. I'd always enjoyed "Slim" Summerville in pictures. He had not been working in a great many pictures recently. Perhaps, he'd enjoy the opportunity to get out and meet the people and earn a salary for six weeks or more. His agents agreed that it would be a profitable venture if he could get $2,250 a week. Young June Lang was approached. She'd go if she got $1,500 a week plus railroad and hotel expenses for her and her mother. Old or young, veteran or novice, they all talked in four figures. I tried to explain that vaudeville did not have the unlimited bankroll of major picture companies; explained further that movies could pay huge salaries because a single picture played in 30,000 theatres. They were not even interested. Pretty Miss Lang added (and this was a typical argument), that she preferred to stay in Hollywood, because "maybe tomorrow a good part will come along." I said that she could keep in touch by phone or telegraph with her Hollywood agent, and that a clause could be inserted in her contract permitting her to leave the show with a week's notice. I offered her $1,000 a week and expenses. She turned it down. So far as I know, young June hasn't made a picture since our company left the A breath of eternal spring; a lyric fragrance tender as young dreams. Eyes turn, and are captured. Once again you have woven a spell with Evening in Paris . . . the fragrance of r omance. Evening in Paris Perfume, $1.10 to $10.00. Face Powder, $1.00. BOURJOIS NEW YORK