Talking Screen (Jan-Aug 1930)

Anita Page Interviews Anita Page self as to endanger your career. Unless, of course, you marry a most remarkable fellow. " ANITA sat silently for a moment, look^ ing beyond the set with its harsh lights, beyond the cool dim interior of the huge stage, beyond the studio lot, piercing the future. Then, slowly: Yes, I've thought of that. I've thought of it often. And I'm afraid. Yes, I'm a little afraid of love. I'm afraid of what it will do to this other thing I love so well — my career. Don't think that I am a coward. I'm not that. I want to marry and have children. But that's what all actresses say when they give interviews, isn't it.'' What I mean is that I don't want to marry mimediately. ' You're nineteen." 'Just my daddy's mother's age when she married. And mother was married when she was seventeen." "Are you going to lag behind, Anita Page.-'" I don't know. That is — that's what troubles me. I meet a boy, and like him. But I'm afraid to allow myself to like him too well, for fear I'll love him and I don't want to love any man too well, yet. I spend my time meeting men, grand men, and boys, and rush away as soon as I discover that my interest in them is too serious." "Anita !" YES, that's true. And it's ghastly. I've made friends and lost them because of It. That, and the fact that I treasure the few hours I Kave away from the studio. I hoard them, jealously. "When I am making J picture I go to bed early. As early as [Continued from page 33} nine. On Saturday nights, of course, we go places and do things.'^ "We.^" You know, mother and dad and my young man. " "Chaperoned, eh.-'" ' Well, not that, exactly, but we have such swell times together. My young men adore having them with us." "Really?" "Sure thing. "We usually go to the Biltmore or the Grove. I ve been only once to the Brown Derby, and a couple of times to Montmartre. We joined the Embassy Club, too. Sometimes we like to go ro the Blossom Room at the Roosevelt. I think Marino — "' "Our brother.^"" I hastily interposed. " — he's seven now, and growing like a weed. I think Marino likes the pastries there. And Henry s . . . That's fun. Dad and Bill Newberry, from the studio, you know, and I dropped into Henry's after a midnight performance at the Chinese and sat and sat." "But how do you handle the smart boys who aren't accustomed to chaperonage?" "What do you mean?" "Do you warn them? I mean, wouldn't they find momma and poppa pretty dull company?"' "Oh, that. I say, when they ask me to go out. to come over to the house and meet mother and dad, who always accompany me, and, if they like me with those provisions, they come. Otherwise, they don't." "Oh. And they come? " " Oh, yes. It's always been that way, as you recall. In Queens, Long Island . . ." " I remember when we moved there from Flushing, Anita." "When dad started his electrical products factory?"' "Uh huh. And when I went to New York to sign that picture contract, mother was with me. " "And you made two pictures and were brought to Hollywood." "With mother and Marino." OF COURSE. And then Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer sent for you. You were just a kid — seventeen, weren't you? And your hair came out of curl on the long bus ride from Los Angeles to Culver City and you had a cold — " " — And didn't want to take a test." "Right." "But were prevailed upon and — " '" — got the job!" " Yes? But what are you going to do about -this marriage situation? Retreat from it all your life?" "No. Not that. Marry, later. But not until I am financially independent. Don't think I want to support a husband. I want one who can support me. And don't think I am utterly mercenary. I want to be independent, and have a profession, so that in any unexpected event, I shall be entirely able to care for myself." "Very good," I said. "But it would have been nice if you could have had the same success as an artist." "Oh, are you going to start that all over again? Isn't it enough that I use the knowledge of line and form that I learned in art school in making up my eyebrows for movie work?" "Well, I suppose so, " I answered, sighing. Night Life in Hollywood Charlotte Merriam, Natalie Kingston, Lillian Rich, Nancy Drexel, Betty Boyd, Molly ODay, Don Alvarado, Mildred Harris, Renee Torres, Mona Rico, Kathleen Clifford, David Newell, Rosetta and "Vivian Duncan, Doris Dean (Roscoe Arbuckle's ex-wife) and ever so many more. Billy Joy (Leatrice's witty brother) acts as master of ceremonies and does his stuff in great shape, winning the applause of all. The Duncans are persuaded to sing their famous song, Re?nemb'ring, and then later they give us the theme song of their new picture. Following You. Next, a dancing contest is in order and lo and behold, Mildred Harris and her partner win and Mildred is presented with a huge silver cocktail shaker. All in all, our little party turned out to be a grand success ! FRIDAY night is fight night in Hollywood and most everybody goes. Fact! If I were a tourist and wanted to see the stars real badly and real informally, I'd go to the fights. Provided, of course, I had the couple of dollars I The show is held at the Hollywood Legion Stadium, just ofT the Boulevard on £1 Centro, and none other than big Tom Gallery, husband of [Continued from page 50] Zasu Pitts, and himself once a film player of note, manages the house. As we enter, the music stops, lights go down, laughter and talk soften to a mere mutter. The light over the ring sputters and then settles into a steady glow. Richard Dix comes regularly. There he is now, in the third row. Al Jolson and his wife are probably somewhere about — they usually come. So does Reed Howes and Dick Aden. There's Bebe Daniels and Ben Lyon ! Bebe is dressed for a party after the fights. Her sable coat can't hide her evening gown. Neither can that sleek hat disguise her marcel. Nobody's looking (so they think!) so they hold hands! John Gilbert usually comes to the fights. So does Neil Hamilton. And Warner Baxter. And Ronald Colman. Jack Dempsey, too, whenever he's in town. After the fights are over, we drive out Santa Monica Boulevard and stop ''n at the Pom Pom for a while. This is a popular nite club and many expensive parties are given here. The dancing girls prance around, delighting the big butter and egg gents. SATURDAY night sees much of the colony making merry at the Biltmore downtown. Here many formal parties are held, notably those sponsored by the famous Sixty Club, Hollywood's special and exclusive social organization. Sunday night, after an afternoon at "Vivian Duncan's home at Malibu, we drive back toward Hollywood. That big white colonial mansion we see, sitting somewhat back from the road, on Washington Boulevard, is the once famous Plantation. Here, not so long ago, Roscoe Arbuckle held sway every night, being very Pagliacci and hiding all his troubles behind a broad, welcoming grin ! But "Fatty " is here no more — instead he is working on rhe RKO lot as a gag man — and somehow, even the outside of the Plantation now seems quiet and cheerless. Back in Hollywood we drop into the Blossom Room at the celebrated Roosevelt Hotel. Instead of dancing we just sit around and listen to George Olsen and his famous band. Their music is really wonderfully soothing. Yes, we admit it, we are just a little bit tired after our rather strenuous week. Yet, after a night's rest, we'd probably be all ready to start right out again if occasion demanded. Hollywood night life is one long endlesschain of dancing, partying and theatre-going. !)0