Canadian Film Weekly (Jun 13, 1945)

June 18, 1945 T= premature passing, much mourned, of Morris Milligan had a profound ef fect upon the life of a gentleman who enjoyed a close connection, though at second hand, with the motion picture industry in our community. He drew his daily sustenance from it for many a year, although his relationship to that happy enterprise which engages all of us in one fashion or another was not of the nature which permits eventual membership in the Canadian Picture Pioneers. “I wonder,’”’ Eddie Wells had asked worriedly, ‘‘what will become of Milligan’s Chinese?” That was the question which provoked my curiosity and set me to probing into the life and times of Lee Soon, as they occurred to those who had come within the orbit of their favorite celestial. The bespectacled—and for the’ most part, bland—Lee, in his late sixties now, was for many years chef, butler and valet to Morris Milligan, ruling over the ample apartment that was his domestic kingdom with an iron hand. And yet not speaking enough English to give you the direction to the nearest washroom. Lee Soon was. considerably younger when he came to our world of shadows and substance as custodian of the persons of some of its then younger executives, not yet risen to their full eminence. It was in 1924 that he entered the service of the late N. L. Nathanson to make his pot-and-pan magic, bringing with him a super-ego about it and an unwillingness to entertain counter opinion. Nor did his lack of either official language impede his ability to make his opposition to criticism felt to its most emphatic degree. ( None but he, Lee implied by his attitude, knew anything about the science of the skillet. Not even those who consumed its contents. Despite this occasional hostility, there was about him personality, loyalty and capability. There must have ‘been, for in 1925 Henry Nathanson, brother of N.L., lured Lee, away to dominate the domicile maintained by Milligan and he, both ambitious bachelors busy in behalf of Paramount and Regal respectively. To this, it is said, N. L. did not take kindly. Not that it precipitated any marked fraternal strife but N. L. had every desire to retain Lee Soon and his excellent arts. His unexpected departure, the story goes, was regarded as a plain case of alienation of affections. What bait drew Lee to the apartment of the bachelors in preference to the more substan Canadian FILM WEEKLY dg ’ Qn The SQUARE A Goodbye, Mr. Soon tial surroundings of N. L. is not known, unless there was a promise of more carefree days and gayer nights in their very status. Or perhaps they, unwittingly, catered to his grandpaternal feelings. These were more or less frustrated, since Lee always claimed that his savings went to China for three of his children’s children. Ney Henry married he took Lee Soon with him, the latter regretfully leaving Morris on his own. It was a case of divided loyalties, such as each man must face at one time or another, and Henry’s need was. obviously greater now. Time passed and one day, it is said by the keepers of the Lee legend, Mrs. Nathanson entered the kitchen of the imperious Mr. Soon in pursuance of her domestic rights. This was a challenge no chef worthy of his salt—or pepper or garlic — could refuse. It happened that Lee’s opinion about woman's place being in the kitchen in no way coincided with that of the late and unlamented Hitler. This he made plain in ways that did not require language to be understood. Mind you, he did use language. It was decided that, in the interest of household harmony — and safety—Lee should leave the premises. Lee did, taking supervision of Morris Milligan again and happy to be returned to an atmosphere of single blessedness. That’ was in 1929 and since then the boys who visited with Morris at one time or another — Jack Hunter, Ed Wells, Ron McClelland, Ted Gould, Herb Allen, Jack Arthur and others — have many merry memories of Lee’s culinary craft. Lee had a fondness for the best in foodstuffs, a point of view supported by his master and with appeal to his guests. The quality of nourishment uishable to the eye at a distance. He maintained that one day he had come upon Morris from behind, greeting him warmly and slapping his back. Not Morris but Lee turned in answer. However, such stories were of no avail and the direction of Milligan’s outgoing toggery was not altered. Bu as Lee Soon grew older he developed an irascibility to the point where Morris felt that he would have more peace of mind without him. His continuing bad temper and consequent ty ranny was reckoned by some as, arising from his inability to . shake off,any longer the aftereffects of a certain smokey compound which must be inhaled deeply for transportation to other was not the only thing about | which Mr. Lee and Mr. Milligan agreed — and shared. This policy of mutual taste and consumption extended also to clothing. There again Morris liked the best and Lee welcomed his hand-medowns. So good was their condition that Jack Hunter protested vehemently against the transfer to Lee on the premise that he (Hunter) deserved a_ priority. Jokingly, he says. It was Jack’s argument that Lee and Milligan were indisting and better temporary worlds. So Lee, sent packing, disappeared into the spangled slums and anonymity of Chinatown. It did not take Lee long to realize that the indifferent world which lay beyond Milligan’s portals was none too friendly to an old Oriental with an overdose of impatience and a shortage of English. Thereafter all his designs were devoted to engineering a return to the good graces of Morris Milligan within those friendly and familiar walls. But Morris, although he did not enjoy being without the benefit of Lee’s talents, was again king of his own castle and would not yield to comfort or sentiment. Lee knew that Milligan usually had lunch with his trade cronies at Child’s on Dundas Square and there his campaign for reinstatement took him. Every day he waited by Child’s as Morris entered or left, greeting his exemployer with a smile in spite of no acknowledgment of his presence. That went on for much of the summer, Lee’s only progress being a curt nod or hello. Then one day, as the wily Lee knew he would, Morris relented— but did not surrender. “You,” he told him in the private language that they had developed through years of association, “bring a Chinese who can speak English.” Lee did the very next day. Would he give up smoking? Would he curb his temper? The answer to all the questions, as relayed by the translator, were in the affirmative, each being endorsed by Lee with an eager smile. But, on second thought, Morris decided he would go on as he was at present. Yet he did not Page 5 wish to be haunted at lunch each day by the relentless Mr. Lee. Morris and his Chinese shadow were beginning to provide comedy material for his industry fellow-diners. ‘Tell him,” said Morris to the translator, ‘that I'll see about it in October.” On October 2nd Jack Hunter, Milligan’s closest friend and most frequent visitor to his home, rang the bell. The door opened and his coat and hat were whisked away — by Lee. “How,” asked the bewildered Hunter, “did he get back in here?” Milligan looked a bit sheepish. On October ist, he explained, the door had been opened by him in answer to a ring. Past him—with a bag in each hand and a big smile — quickly shuffled a Chinese gentleman’s gentleman, one Mr. Lee Soon. Home again, his every mannerism indicated, and bent on staying. Nor was his English, suddenly grown worse, good enough to understand any protestations to the contrary. The fact was that Lee had a great affection for Morris Milligan. When he was told that he would see him no more, his grief was sharp. No man ever shed more tears for a friend. No man ever had better reason. There was the time, for instance, when Lee rubbed an eye carelessly and, at the insistence of Morris, found himself in the hospital to save its sight. It came to Milligan that his man was not receiving the necessary attention. He corrected the situation after making his objections distinctly obvious. From then on even a Mandarin enjoyed no more attention than the exiled son of Cathay, three nurses hovering over him. ACK HUNTER, on his return from the interment of Morris in the family plot at Bradford, Pennsylvania, was checking his late friend’s effects with the solicitor from that city who had come to represent the estate. Lee pointed to his room. ‘Bed,"’ he said. Even in sorrow an old fellow must think of that which has been friendly to his bones for many years. “Take everything in the room,” Jack said, after establishing that right with the solicitor, “but leave the keys.” He pointed out each article. The next day Jack came back to the apartment. Lee’s room was cleaned out from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. Everything was gone but the wallpaper. On a table in the living room lay the symbols of Lee’s former authority, two keys. Good cooking, Lee, wherever you are, and goodbye. Good smoking and happy dreams, The boys will miss you too.