Talking Screen (Jan-Aug 1930)

had never quite been all she had dreamed he was, until he had left her and her imagination had had free play. She wanted to tell Wallie about it. Wallie would understand, and would help her understand. He loved her and he had put that love in the background because she had been too blind to see how great he was, and he had sacrificed himself to be. a friend because she had wanted only a friend. What a fool she had been ! And Wallie, noble and quiet and understanding — so far beyond her. Her mind raced on, building up the picture of Wallace Barron's nobility. , "Well, shall we move on? " It was Jack White's voice which now brought her back to reality from that strange inner dramatization of events which always seized her and carried her so far beyond ordinary reality. 'Oh Jack," she said, ' Tm sorry! Yes let's do go. Only I've got to hurry. I can't be very long. I've an appointment out at the Studios. " That contract she had forgotten would now be a good excuse. BIG Bill Maughm, Ralph Conners, Jesse Sweatman, President of Perfect, Warren Barron, and a rather clever New York critic who happened to be West, were at the minute watching a special running of The Park Avenue Aiurder. "By the shades of Bernhardt, ' the critic was saying, "Sweatman, you've got a find in that kid playing die hostess. She's not an actress — she's an artist. She's one of the three in Hollywood. Have you got her signed up?" Sweatman rubbed his fat hands together nervously and shook his head from side to side anxiously. "Noo. She left the other day without signin'. $65,000 a year I offered her — maybe Fox or M-G-M are after her — the dirty cutthroats ! Tryin' to take an actress from me! But she wouldn't sign without lettin' me know.. That wouldn't be fair. She wouldn't do it. I'm goin' to change that contract — make it $125,000 a year." Warren Barron smiled. They were finding out what he had known all along — that this child dramatized life — lived it for something bigger than it was. She was far beyond him — far — but he loved her so much that he ached to think about it. If only she could care for him as she did for that other man — God, how happy he would be ! I have . . . flung roses," he whispered to himself thinking of her. The Risks They Take played an armless role, he burst an artery in one of them through the terrific stricture placed upon it. When he was The Phantom he was threatened with the loss of his nose because of an infection caused by a device used to add horror to his ponrayal. Dick Grace, aerial dare-devil, feels he is cheating death. All the others in his flying film circus have lived dangerously and died game. Dick, who crashed for you in Wings, Lilac Time, Hell's Angels and the rest of them, has broken practically every bone in his body. And, believe it or not, this includes his neck ! Guy Standing was one of the British colony in Hollywood. They were using the lions in that particular picture. One of them was nervous. It was one of those things. Not much to be done by the time they drove the blood-reeking, tawny cat from his throat. Nothing but to notify his cousin, Wyndham Standing, who continues to live dangerously for the film-fans. Ken Maynard, and all the riders, consider themselves fortunate to come through a picture with no greater hurt than strains and wrenches. Bruises are nothing. And breaks the usual thing. The spectre gallops with them all. MEN who laugh in Death's face, naturally consider it a huge joke when they elude his gripping talons. Chester Morris actually giggles in telling an experience during Alibi. To save the shooting of an additional scene, Chester told the director it would be all right to pepper with bultets the door of the closet in which he was hidden. The gunner was presumed to be an expert marksman who could avoid sending his bullets on the side against which Morris stood flattened. Later he saw the sharp-shooter reading a paper. The fellow couldn't see further than his nose! Bebe Daniels, the Lyon's bride, bears scars as souvenirs of her cinematic adventures. From Senorila to R'lo Rita, and before and after, Bebe's career has been punctuated with wounds and broken bones. Those duels, those leaps from balconies, all those breathtaking escapades of hers have not been filmed costlessly. But Bebe continues to live dangerously. And likes it. \_Continued from page 20] Ben, himself, can tell a few. So can Jimmy Hall. They've taken their fun where they found it — in Hell's Angels. And their chances, too. Ben's plane crashed one day almost in the laps of Breakfast Club Babbitts. And Jimmy's forehead is a little moist, despite his laugh, when he recounts his part in some sequences. You who would like to be talkie stars, would you duplicate even the slight feat of frail Mary Philbin in Port o' Dreams? "Mary," remarked director Wesley Ruggles casually, "in this .scene you leap from the ship into the sea. It's only forty feet." She did it. And Mary doesn't swim a stroke! It was just part of the day's work. / The girls are certainly shoulder to shoulder with the boy-friends in this business of living dangerously. Pneumonia can kill almost as quickly as a lion. And even Mary Pickford didn't hesitate to risk it when she worked for hours wringing wet to amuse you in The Taming of the Shrew. Ruth Roland and Helen Ferguson are only two examples brave girls who have sustained injuries in their eflForts to provide you with amusement. Injuries perhaps more tragic than either death or disability. Injuries that have robbed them forever of the privilege of motherhood. 1ITTLE Edwina Booth was warned by di^ rector "Woody" "Van Dyke. "Woody " warned all the cast of Trader Horn. They were to go into the African gorilla country — the very bowels of the Dark Continent. "I want people with plenty o' grit when I go into that hell to make a picture," said "Woody." "I've got it," smiled Edwina. And proved it. "Van Dyke brought his troupe back alive. But now Edwina is a victim of some mysterious jungle ailment that is sapping her vitality. Prayers for her recovery. Hope that she may continue to live. This same, "Van Dyke, six feet of tough hombre, has had occasion to t)flFer physical combat with a mutinous crew in the South Seas. Several of them took advantage of the proposition. The others profited by their example. Then "Woody" went ahead and shot his picture. BUT risks are not confined to heavy drama. Comedy has its heroes — and its heroines. Those funny falls leave their marks. And that goes literally. It isn't as easy as it appears for Louise Fazenda to contribute silly sallies to the cinema with her body bruised black and blue as an Eastern football team after the Stanford game. Not every tale of risks run for your entertainment may be authenticated. There is a reticence regarding admission that death parades in pictures. But there is many a weird whisper. And some are so despite lack of documentary proof. Others are too awful for contemplation. For instance, that terrible legend concerning the sinking of a galleon with all hands ! With the movie slaves shackled to their oars ! Or that fable of a film deletion necessitated because dismembered bodies were hurled across the screen as a result of a premature explosion. Even in peace, war is hell. In Hollywood. In such epics as All Quiet on the Western Front, the director calls for volunteers for hazardous service, as a soldier does in battle. Those willing to face bombs bursting in air receive extra service stripes on their pay-checks. The fire-works men plot carefully. But accidents occur. And in the archives of many a studio are cut-outs showing sights as horrible as any seen in war. STARS, players, directors — all are in jeopardy. And cameramen. Have you paused in viewing some obviously perilous .scene to ponder the daring of the man who filmed it? No matter how desperate the position of the players, that of the cinematographers is nearer the end of life's plank. The electricians, too, clinging' perilously to the "cat walks,"' strung across studio-tops high as trapezes in a circus tent. Property men, too, flirt with death through nonunion hours. So when you read the slush and gush attendant upon some exaggerated account of Hollywood whoopee, remember that those who die tomorrow dance today. The people in pictures live dangerously. For you. Death takes no holiday in Hollywood. But they are a valiant crew. And the valiant, as Bill Howard says, taste death but once! 88