Boxoffice (Apr-Jun 1937)

THIS WEEK WE MEET ANGELINE A. MANEY Her real name is Angeline Alice Maney, but every one knows the attractive assistant publicity manager at the Metropolitan Theatre in Boston as Angie. Her friends range from John Boles to the Postal Telegraph boy who came north a while ago from Mexico. If there is one individual who can truthfully be called the most popular personality in New England filmdom, it is this young lady with a yen for collecting dogs, a flair for choosing hats, and a smile for one and all. 276 Toy Pooches Her collection of minature mutts, perhaps, best reveals the extent of Miss Maney’s range of acquaintances. No less than 276 toy pooches fill a cabinet in her office in the de luxe, 4332-seat Metropolitan. The donors include: Mary Pickford, Roy Noble, George Raft, Fabien Sevitzky, Eddie Duchin, Fred Waring, John Boles, Max Baer, Jane Withers, Rudy Vallee, Molly Berg, Horace Heidt, Mitzi Green, Margo, Wallace Beery, Francis Lederer, Paul Lucas, and the Three Pickens Sisters who chipped in for a single pup. Some gals in such positions collect autographs; some experience. Angie’s choice still is dawgs. She was born, not too long ago, in Haverhill. Her father is Maurice H. Maney, well known architect and consulting engineer, who has effected such construction jobs as the building of the entire promenade at Hampton Beach. She attended Notre Dame Academy and, coming to Dorchester where she now resides at Paisley Park, she completed at Dorchester High School a special three-year business course for college students in nine months. Angie seldom wastes any time. First a Secretary Her first position was secretary to the New England secretary of the Unitarian Layman’s League. She proudly wears enough green on St. Patrick’s Day to harness one and all of her present 276 canines, and her employer remarked more or less jokingly one day that it had been pretty broadminded of him to hire her. “It was pretty broadminded of me to go to work for you,” Angie shot back. She was secretary to the owner of the Massachusetts Bay Steamship Co., and secretary to the manager of a finance company before going to the Metropolitan Theatre nine years ago as secretary to Bud Gray, now an advance man for a gentleman known as Major Bowes, said to be connected in some way with broadcasting. The assistant publicist then was John McGrail, now censor of stills for Messrs. Hays and Breen. Subsequent Met p. a.’s heading her department were Harry Royster, now with Paramount on the west Coast; Bud Gray, again; Harry Browning, present exploitation manager for the M. and P. Theatres Corp.; Floyd Bell, formerly general press agent for Ringling Brothers-Barnum and Bailey and now free lancing in the Hub. Her latest boss, before Paul Levi took over, was Gene S. Fox who left Boston about two months ago to become an assistant producer for National Screen Service on the Coast. More Grins Than Grief Here is one publicist, and lady at that, who thinks that the film biz has more grins than grief. She made her debut on the air with Eddie Duchin who was also raised hereabouts. An announcer handed her a script and told her she was to open the program. She did, and that was all there was to it. She escorted John Boles on a sight-seeing trip around Boston once, and found that John Boles knew more about the historic points of Boston than she. She took Paul Lukas to a broadcast, and tried to soothe him into his debonair self before the show went on the air. As the elevator ascended to the radio studio, Angie thought of the word Lukas had been fumbling for to express in his air appearance. Angie, next, forgot the word. An Episode She Remembers She remembers, though, an episode concerning a local theatre artist who, in the true artistic spirit, generally managed to wind up with his money gone like the wind. In order to teach the buckeroo better, those around the Met generally tightened up on loans. But when the fellow burst into the office one day, saying that he had just received word his mother was dead and that he had to have a buck for taxi fare to South Boston, Angie couldn’t re fuse. The mug returned, finally, and it turned out that he had wanted the dough for a porterhouse steak. “What’s eating you?” he demanded of Angie, unabashed. “I’d have died if I hadn’t got that buck, and that would have been worse. You don’t know my mother, but you do know me.” Angie, on the other hand, was a prime manipulator in one of the most gaga gags ever played at a local theatre. The gagged guy was Bill Burton, then advance man for Ray Noble. Burton was enthused over the fact that it was up to him to put Noble over at the Met at a time when the young English orchestra director had never previously played an American theatre. This, no doubt, stimulated him to wire the Metropolitan publicity offices to have all the city’s radio men on hand when he arrived in the South Station at 9 o’clock. “Uuum, high-pressure stuff,” the Met staff mused. Nobody mentioned Ray Noble to Burton while he was in town. He’d go out to the newspapers with his brief case and find that pix of Buddy Rogers had been substituted for his photos of the Englishman. He’d managed to get in the plea, “Do you mind if I talk a little business?” and he’d be shut off with, “We don’t very often do that here, but make it snappy.” He’d try daily to get passed into the publicity offices, and he’d always end up by having to buy a ticket through the theatre. He asked for a pretty stenographer and was accorded an Amazon to whom he managed to dictate two letters before firing her. A Campaign Book Episode When Bill Burton left Boston, though, still good-natured even though he had been ribbed pretty close to the raw, he was presented with a campaign book showing one of the most comprehensive spreads of exploitation ever given an attraction at the New England show place. The story was that Angie and the others had paid for their fun by working late at night after Burton had left for his hotel. Together with the campaign book, Angie gave Burton a present from the staff. It was the first time the Met advertising department ever gave an advance man a gift. Perhaps that so mellowed Burton that he was rash enough to wire ahead the second time he visited Boston. He was picked up at the same South Station by a couple of cops and sirened post dispatch in the direction of the hoosegow! “I haven’t any idea who’s to blame for that,” Angie Maney says. THE SAVOY HEADQUARTERS FOR EXHIBITORS WHEN IN BOSTON 455 Columbus Ave. Boston, Mass. BETWEEN DARTMOUTH STREET & MASSACHUSETTS AVENUE Six minutes’ walk from film district Three minutes from all Back Bay Stations. Elevated bus line by door. Transfers to all parts of Boston and suburbs. 150 ROOMS, ALL WITH BATH Suites for families of four; parlor, two bedrooms, bath — $4.00, $5.00, $6.00 a day. Double rooms — $2.50, $3.00, $3.50, $4.00 a day Siuffle rooms — $2.00, $2.50 a day SPECIAL WEEKLY RATES Garage nearby — Cars called for and delivered. Rate 50c for 24 hours. Excellent New England Food Served in the Savoy Cafe Club Breakfast 15c to 65c Also a la carte menu Luncheons 2.5c to 50c No License Dining Room Dinners 50c, 75c, $1.00 No room service charge GEORGE E. CLARK, Manager BOXOFFICE :: AprU 10, 1937. 53