The Screen Guilds’ Magazine (1934-10)

14 The Screen Guilds’ Magazine Asteroids .... Mme. Carrie Daumery For ten years Mme. Daumery had a little theatre in Brussels—a workshop wherein she produced such plays as met her fancy. Some were by famous play¬ wrights—‘ ‘ The Dream of a Spring Morn¬ ing, ’’ “ The Death of Tin Tagiles, ’’ ‘ ‘ The Red Head,” 44 Christmas Vigil’’—and when she could find nothing that pleased her, she wrote plays herself, designed the costumes and scenery, directed and played the principal roles. Her husband, Theo Ysaye, was one of Belgium’s famous composers and pian¬ ists. Her brother-in-law, Eugene Ysaye, the virtuoso, one of the world’s greatest violinists. Life was very pleasant. Then came the war. . . . Mme. Daumery believes the little the¬ atres throughout America should be en¬ couraged. There is no other medium so effective for developing talent—both acting and playwriting. 4 ‘Also,” she says, “the stage is easier than the screen. In acting before the camera, one must use one’s imagination to take the place of the audience. One must have the thought. ’ ’ And as she was twenty years on the stage and for ten years has been on the screen, she knows about these things. She has given notable performances as a stock actress at War¬ ner Bros.-First National and in many French versions of American screen plays. Her most recent English speaking part (with accent) was the mad mar- quisa in “Grand Canary”—an unforget- able portrayal. D’Artagnajy could have been killed at will by even a mediocre fencer of today, according to William Emile, mas¬ ter of swords. “In the day of the Three Musketeers, swashbuckling lacked science” — and William Emile should know. He has crossed swords with the mighty, has participated in thirty odd duels—on the screen. Among those with whom he has dueled are Fredric March, Ramon Novarro, John Miljan, Wallace Beery, Douglas Fairbanks, Jack Gilbert, Con¬ rad Nagel, Warren William, and many others including Margaret Churchill and Helen Chandler. Until 1917 fencing was merely his hobby. He then became a professional. Starting with Fairbanks in “The Mod¬ ern Musketeer” he appeared in “Come Down to Earth,” “Reaching For the Moon,” “The Three Musketeers,” “Robin Hood.” “The greatest dueling scene on the screen,” according to Emile, “was be¬ tween Warren William and Alan Mow¬ bray in “The Honor of the Family.” Women can be as clever and danger¬ ous with the foils as a man. For skill is required—not strength. “Women are more vicious than men. ’ ’ And Emile should know about this, too, for this fencing master has a dress shop in Glendale, patronized by the women, particularly his friends in the pro¬ fession. Also he gives lessons in fenc¬ ing at military academies. William Emile Viewed by Repput Lillian Warde “When one door closes, another opens”—that is why life is so interest¬ ing, according to Lillian Warde.' No one can say into what ventures the next winding passage will lead. In silent days she played featured roles. At present, she is doing atmosphere— and this is strange, because her voice is an appealing and important part of her equipment for the screen. At times she sings over the radio. She likes singing, also dancing, horseback riding, swim¬ ming, and flying best of all. She talked at length of the Central Casting Bureau—enthusiastically about the reformation in this important clear¬ ing house where human beings should and, she believes, now will be treated as such. “There is no group of people in any profession more eager, more hopeful, more willing to work, than the small-part player and the extra. They deserve great consideration. Each is an individual— this should be remembered—with all of the emotions of the most favored star.” She talked, too, of the home life of many of these people, of their responsi¬ bilities, of their necessity to provide not only for themselves but frequently for others. And in connection with the former, she pointed out the necessity of maintaining a suitable wardrobe and of keeping oneself in good physical condi¬ tion. “One must always be ready when another door opens. ’ ’