Exhibitors Herald and Moving Picture World (Apr-Jun 1930)

50 EXHIBITORS HERALD-WORLD June 7, 1950 \J ETERAN and inveterate first nighter, one of the best ping pong ^ players in the country, hard boiled in business, generous in his personal relationships, sometimes addicted to black ties, of medium height, dark, brisk — that is Howard Dietz, director of advertising and publicity for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. In the process of acquiring an education at Columbia University he met his wife, Betty, also a student. On the side he reported for the Journal. College over, he went to work in an advertising agency, produced the M G M trade mark — ars gloria artis, — contributed poetry to F. P. A.’s column in the World, to Life, to Judge. Went to work for Goldwyn and soon headed the publicity department. Combining the originality and flair of an artist with the quick rationalism of a business man he was remarkably well suited, and still is, for his work. GEORGE GERSHWIN has seen “The Love Parade” four times. He thought he was working hard recently when he played five shows straight at the Roxy. Less recently he played fourteen hours a day for music publishers. When Metro took over Goldwyn he came along, too, as advertising manager. A year later he was once again director of advertising, exploitation and publicity. Under him were Seadler, Clarke, Burrows and Furguson, chaps he had brought along from the Goldwyn office and who are still flourishing in their respective departments at M G M. Between times he wrote more poetry, played ping pong, tennis, attended any and all sporting events of interest, wrote lyrics for shows, his first big success being “The Little Show.” He did some stuff for “Merry Go Round,” is now working on lyrics for a second “Little Show” and a musical comedy. He works hard and plays harder, is a hard taskmaster but would probably part with his shirt outside of business hours. Believes in giving his men free rein, finds that they produce better without rigorous supervision. Lynde Denig’s lyrics have been published in the World. Ina Claire’s first stage appearance was an impersonation of Harry Lauder. Lily Damita saves nickels. Not long ago she went slumming at Roselands, was there almost an hour before being recognized. She did not think much of her public. She leaves for Europe soon and will try to return under the quota. Eddie Bonns got the big electric sign on the Hollywood theatre without spending a cent by convincing its makers that the publicity they would receive on it would be more valuable to them than anything the Warners could pay. So unusual is this sign that the American Institute of Electrical Engineers recently met to discuss its operation. Bonns is the author of “Putting it Over,” a novel on exploitation. He is also the originator of the business of putting sunlight arcs on the crowd at Broadway openings. * The Sound fro* Chester Erskine’s interest in what Eisenstein has to say may indicate his doing a picture for Paramount as well as staging that company’s legitimate productions. HOLLYWOOD, June 3, 1930. Jay Shreck, Quigley Publishing Co., 407 South Dearborn St., Chicago, 111. Dear Jay: I’m so excited I don’t know where to begin about this nervy Sam Gooble fellow and the things he done. Two nights ago he didn’t even come to sleep but a man called up and said he was the butler of Mr. Silver, who is President of Acme Pictures, and that if I was Mr. Gooble’s butler he had a message for me. He said I should tell the rest of the servants that the master wouldn’t be home for the week-end and I could dismiss all the help but the chef, the second butler and two maids and the day chauffeur. At first I was so surprised I wanted to say, “Say, you tell Sam Gooble he'd better come home and pay the $4.85 which is his share of the grocery bill and not to call me no butler because he hasn’t even got five dollars to his back,” but I reminded myself in time what a big liar he is and maybe he’s bluffing Mr. Silvers so I said, “Yes sir,” like I was a real butler. Well , Jay, yesterday afternoon he comes walking into our room and says, “ Shut up, I’ve promoted us two swell jobs.” “Shut up yourself,” I answer quick .as a flash, “what kind of jobs?” “Oh,” he says very slowly, flicking ashes in my bed, “I’m a supervisor at $500 a week and you are my secretary at one hundred.” I was so surprised I could hardly talk but I was able to ask him what he did. Well, he told Silver, he directed pictures in Russia and he’d like to try some aesthetics in America. But that’s not the dumb part because when Silver said “How about salary,” what did our friend Gooble do but say, “I insist on $500 a week and you must send it to United Charities every week. Just pay my secretary a hundred a week.” I was so sore I could have knocked his head off because this makes it only $50 a piece but Sam said it made a good impression and I said “Good impression my eye.” We got in his old Ford , which makes so much noise you can* t hear the horn on account of the knocks , and we drove to a block from the Roosevelt. Then we walked into the lobby to wait for Silver because Sam had a luncheon date. Pretty soon Silver came in and I got very nervous. Silver goes over to Sam and says, “How are you, my friend,” and Sam puts his arm around him and says, “Oke, pal,” and I could have been knocked over with a feather. Then he says, “Oh yes, here’s my man I was telling you about. An invaluable aide whom I brought over from Slovak in Russia just for his technical ability in a case like this. You’ll have to excuse his English because he’s only been here a month.” Oh, I could have mangled him right there in the Roosevelt if it wasn’t for the hundred dollars a week. I can do a little negro dialect but I don’t know how a Russian talks. But I showed Sam I got nerve too and I said, “Veil, veil, diss is by me a pleasure,” and Silver fell for it. During the meal Sam would turn around to me and say something like “Iggy googly diggly ipsum” and then he’d say to Silver, “I’m just explaining something in Russian,” the liar. Well, Tav, then we shook hands with Silver and he had to go awav for an appointment and that’s all about that. Of course I am very excited about being in the movies after so long and it’s funny that I’d never have got in except for Sam Gooble. who is a swell feller but a terrible liar. The only thing I’m nervous about is that we got to start next week and I read in the oaner that Acme is going to do a Russian version of “Jack and the Beanstalk,” where the Giant looks like an American instead of a Russian, and I’m afraid I’ll have to work on that picture and you know how much Russian I know. Respectfully, NORMAN KRASNA. Ira Gershwin (he writes the lyrics) puns when he plays poker. You’ll find it costly humor and not so good at half the price. Milton Silver spends his spare time writing plays. So does Halsey Raines. Winfield Sheehan is fond of strudel and prize fights. Mitchell Erlanger, aided by Saul Baron, is busy corraling the well known producers and making overtures to those not so well known to strut their stuff under the Erlanger banner. Carl Hunt, production manager for the Shuberts, was once a chiropractor— which may account for the twinkling feet to be seen in the Shubert revues. Bill Leahy, formerly with the Century Play Company, who has probably sold more plays to motion picture producers than any other man in the country, has opened up his own office in the Salmon Tower. Agnes Ayres, motion picture star, is turning to the legitimate. She will make her Broadway debut in “Jungle Love." A1 Woods used to say that pictures amounted to practically nothing. Now he claims that they have wrecked the legitimate stage. Paul Fejos, Universal director of “Broadway” and “The Marseillaise,” used to be a Viennese bacteriologist. That is, until he went bugs about pictures. Sam Goldwyn’s original name was Sam Goldfish. He was a glove salesman in Gloversville, New York. . . . Lewis Milestone used to be known to his parents as Milstein. . . . Nancy Carroll has been riding in the subway. . . . One of our better known producers on hearing of Ivanhoe instructed his scenario department to get in touch with Walter Scott. . . ■ Rudy Vallee uses Fleischmann’s yeast. . . . Rutgers Neilson has a bad cold.