It took nine tailors (1948)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

GETTING THE GIRL 143 ingenue whom he had seen in The Leather Pushers with Reginald Denny. Her name was Norma Shearer. Broadway after Dark had been a melodrama with a villain so deep in skulduggery that even his mother couldn't have forgiven him. Monta revamped the story, turning the heavy, which I played, into a Broadway playboy with a barrelful of money and with two girls in every chorus. At the end of the picture I was supposed to lose the girl to the juvenile hero. But after about three weeks of shooting we began to realize that the virtuous young hero was a stuffed shirt and an awful bore. Monta be^an to worn7 about the way the character and the picture were turning out; he went aroimd looking as glum as a sick hound-dog. Then, one morning he rushed into my dressing room full of enthusiasm, a big grin on his face. "I've licked it!" he shouted. 'I've got a twist for the love storv. The heavy is going to get the girl!" It was a mad idea. It defied all tradition. There was a hero and a heavy in even* motion picture, and the audience knew from the beginning who was going to get the girl. It was never the character I played— that mustache twirler who sneered at marriage and hated babies. But after four years I had grown used to Hollywood inconsistencies. I assured Monta that in the last reel I could twirl my mustache in a heroic manner and act like a fellow who could settle down in a vine-covered cottage. That was the way we shot the final scenes of the picture, and it worked. The fans were delighted when the lady-killer with 100 phone numbers was roped and tamed by a demure and simple maiden. But that was the last time I got the girl for quite a while. Even though I had won her in Monta's picture, nobody else would take a chance on making me the love interest. In my next picture, For Sale (with Claire Windsor) I played that well-worn character, the jaded millionaire who will save the heroine's father from financial ruin if she will consent to marriage. Then came Sinners in Silk. That was during the "sinner and sex" cvcle, when pro