Hollywood (1942)

Maria Monte z, Universal's sizzling beauty, reveals how she goe9 about "snaring" her men. She has lead role in South of Tahiti, with Brian Donlevy Glamour Mm Her Dish By TOM De VANE | "Men," said Maria Montez, casually toying the largest and most expensive aquamarine ever set into a ring, "like their women to be women. I feel sorry for the poor girls who believe that they can hold their men by beating them at golf or tennis — the girls who believe that men are really attracted to the 'good pal' type. "The minute a woman becomes a 'good pal' she is lost. "I like to golf and play tennis — but you do not catch me playing with my men friends. They will never see me looking hot and wilted after a brisk day at the country club! I never let a man see me at anything but my best." Miss Montez paused and fixed the interviewer with two beautiful brown eyes. "Don't laugh, please — but I like to believe that my men friends think of me as a lovely flower!" The interviewer did not laugh. To him, it was a point well made. The lovely flower continued: "You know, men are suckers jor glamour! They can't get too much of it. The successful wife, or sweetheart, 38 must realize this. And glamour is more than beauty of face and body. It is beauty of soul as well. If you just lift — shall we say, a corner of your soul to a man, he will adore you!" Although she has been under contract to Universal for a year and a half, and known to most magazine readers as "Maria Montez, Hollywood movie star," the breathtaking lady has actually only just finished her first leading role in South of Tahiti. She plays a Dorothy Lamourish sort of role and wears another type of South Sea garment called a "slendang." Quite as revealing, but different — "not like Lamour," says Montez, earnestly. The twenty two year old Spaniard (she was born in Santa Domingo, where her father was the Spanish consul) has been one of the most widely discussed figures to arrive in Hollywood in many years. "It was all part of my plan," confessed Maria. "I am no fool. I know I have beauty and that I am glamorous to many men. When I arrive in Hollywood I deliberately start a campaign to put myself over. The first three months here, I was out every night. I deliberately set about making my face known. I danced my feet off — but always I was photographed, and always I was mentioned in the gossip columns, until finally people begin to say 'Who is this Montez, anyway?' That was what I wanted. I am a Hollywood glamour girl without even setting foot in front of a movie camera!" That started the Montez legend. The other girls, watching Maria bewitch practically every unattached male in Hollywood, gritted their teeth. "Just a party girl," they muttered nastily. "The women criticize me for going out with all the Hollywood wolves," said Maria placidly. "But they are nice boys, the wolves. They like to be seen with me, and I enjoy going out." While dancing her nights away, Maria was studying avidly during the day — studying to rid herself of her accent. She has succeeded pretty well, too — and what little accent she has left will be quite appropriate for her half-caste role in South oj Tahiti. Miss Montez has the assurance that comes with extraordinary beauty and her poise far exceeds her years. "All my life I have been spectacular," she said blithely. "As a result I have been gossiped about unmercifully — mostly by women. Women consider me more dangerous than I am. Silly women! I do not want their men. I am not a home wrecker. I am a career girl. I want to become a movie star." Maria lives alone and likes it in a furnished apartment in the unfashionable part of Beverly Hills. "I have never been alone before," she said, "and I enjoy it. I come from a large family — four sisters and five brothers — and we were mostly together until recently. When I arrived in Hollywood I felt like a bird that had just gotten out of a cage. But I did not let my freedom go to my head. I always behave with dignity." Her father, says Maria, was a very wise man, and her greatest inspiration until his untimely death several years ago. "He taught me a great deal," she said. "Most of all, he taught me how to think things out for myself. "When I was fifteen, and we were living in the Canary Islands, father gave me a room all my own, as a surprise. He called it a Chinese meditation room. He had it decorated with yellow silk walls, and there were no chairs— only cushions. There were several beautiful Chinese statues, but otherwise, the room — my room — was bare. "I hope," Maria continued hastily, "that this does not sound ridiculous. I assure you it was not. My father taught me to think — to meditate — to be alone with myself. Even now, when many people think of me as Maria, the party girl, I still must find time to be alone and meditate. I need it the way other people need food." "At first," said Maria seriously, "I did not know why the men say, 'Woo woo!' when I walk into a night club. When I find out, I am embarrassed. Then I decide that is a compliment. "I hope that the movie audiences will also go, 'Woo woo!' That will mean that Montez has arrived." ■ *L