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Shake§peare9§ Chum
By JOHN FULLER
^7
FAWCETT' PUBLICATION
V
Always look (or this triangle with the words "A Fawcett Publication" before buying a magazine. The Fawcett Triangle is your assurance of a better magazine for your money 1
■ For a while there Laird
Cregar used to walk up and down Hollywood's Vine Street, poke his nose into the door of the Brown Derby just as if he were looking for someone, drink deep of the wonderful odors that came from the Bob Cobb cuisine being wolfed by the Brown Derby steady trade, and exit cussing Shakespeare something fierce.
What did he have against Shakespeare?
Plenty.
If it hadn't been for Shakespeare, he never would have become an actor. If he hadn't
become an actor, he never would have ended up in Hollywood, walking the streets broke and hungry and looking in on the well-heeled patrons of the Brown Derby just to give him courage enough to stick it out a little longer.
But where does Shakespeare, dead these 325 years, come in?
Well, it's like this. When our hero was a mere broth of a boy and nothing at all like the six-foot-three giant he is now (and weighing 290 pounds), he was packed off to England for a spot of education at the veddy special Winchester School, where his ancestors before him had been enrolled. Come vacation time and one of the masters, just to keep the little shaver out of mischief, got him a very minor spot with the Stratford-on-Avon players, a group dedicated to producing Shakespearean drama in the very little hamlet where the immortal William was born and whither he returned after making a killing on what passed for Broadway in Seventeenth Century London. Being eight and impressionable, Master Laird Cregar developed a violent case of admiration for Shakespeare. So violent, in fact, that when he returned to school in the fall, after having done his stint as a page in six Shakespearean plays, he notified the master who had been concerned about keeping him out of mischief for the summer that he was going to be an actor, a Shakespearean actor, no less. Ever afterward, until he was called back to his native Philadelphia by his mother, he was eternally squaring off and ranting Shakespearean speeches at all comers.
Back in America after two years of English life, he was clapped into the Winchester Academy at Longport, New Jersey. He did a four-year trick there which just about clinched his hunch that Shakespeare had put him on the right track. By push or cunning, young Cregar managed to snag a role in every amateur theatrical that hit Longport during those four years.
Now that Laird Cregar has made his mark in the movies, he's forgiven Shakespeare for some of the early tribulations the Bard caused him. Laird's in the 20th Century-Fox film, Hot Spot
It goes without saying that he was all over the stage whenever the Winchester masquers put on a play. After he turned thirteen he recalled that Shakespeare had done a little literary work as well as acting. So, like Shakespeare, he took to writing plays. He tossed off seven in two years. All seven were produced, either at the Winchester Academy or at the Episcopal Academy whither he departed to finish off his education after he had siphoned all the wisdom available at Winchester.
He quit Episcopal Academy after a mere year's trial. Episcopal, he discovered, didn't understand young actors. It insisted that, actor or no actor, everyone do his homework in algebra and Latin, which subjects young Cregar loathed. So at fourteen he kissed Episcopal good-bye and set out to lick the stage.
Rightoutside of Philadelphia atGermantown is bivouacked the Hedgerow Theater run by a distinguished gentleman named Jasper Deeter. It is the Mecca of all young hopefuls who want to splash around in shallow water before they try the deep seas of Broadway. The Hedgerow Theater may not be Broadway but it is hardly a pushover. Some of the fanciest names in pictures were terrible flops at Hedgerow. Not our young Master Cregar. He hung around Hedgerow for some sixteen months and was accounted a pretty good hand. He quit Hedgerow because he couldn't afford to hang around any more. The Cregar fortune suddenly vanished, and the young scion was forced on his own.
He received the news by announcing he was ready to turn professional. There were a few objections at home by members of the family who felt that Sam, as his intimates knew Master Laird, ought to go to college. But these objectors were squelched properly when the wily one said: "Find the money and I'll go." The silence after his little speech was as heavy as a fruit cake.
As a would-be vanquisher of the professional theater, he was not exactly sensational. For a while there the nearest he got to the theater was the front door. He got a job as doorman for the Orpheum Theater at Germantown. When he was promoted to an usher's job, he actually got inside the theater. But he was still on the wrong side of the footlights. Undaunted, he wrote to the Pasadena Playhouse in California and suggested, after listing his accomplishments, that they give him a scholarship. To his surprise, the
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