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You'd see an actor, portraying Christ, riding to the studio in a broken-down Ford. And a trained lion in a limousine behind him. Once when the Ford broke down I saw the lion's car push the actor who played Christ all the way to the studio. They were both in the same picture, and neither could afford to be late. They needed the money.
Those were the days when producers would start a picture with little story and have it written as they went along. They still do. Sometimes it seems as though they'd never written it at all.
Geraldine Farrar came straight from the Metropolitan Opera and made a colossal impression. She played Joan of Arc for Cecil DeMille. She was madly in love with Lou Tellegen, who had made stage love to Sarah Bernhardt. A romantic figure, he gobbled up all the sweets of life and love, then literally cut short his days with a pair of shears— a suicide.
DeMille rented a house for Geraldine not far from ours. When she lifted her voice in song, every person within a quarter of a mile flung open the windows to listen.
Lou Tellegen was making a picture at that time. If Geraldine finished her day's work ahead of him, she'd find out where he was and walk to the farthest end of the lot to be near him, sit quietly like a modest extra girl until he'd done his scenes, then they'd go home together.
The first time I met Sam Goldwyn— he was Sam Goldfish then and married to Jesse Lasky's sister— we sat together on an outdoor stage to watch his partner Cecil DeMille burn Geraldine at the stake. I still think it was a better picture than Ingrid Bergman's Joan, but I could be prejudiced.
During that year 1 saw many pictures being made. I wanted to learn about them. Wolfie had insisted when I married him that I give up my career. He thought life owed him one wife who'd stay home while he did the acting for the family.
Nevertheless I watched closely. I saw D. W. Griffith put finishing touches on Intolerance, with eighty girls dressed as angels fluttering on wires thirty feet above the stage. A third of them became airsick
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