Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Short Story (Jan-Aug 1941)

THERE'S a man in Hollywood who lives in a trunk. Not only does he live in it, he earns his living in it. (His clothes look as if he sleeps in it.) His name is John Nesbitt. Nesbitt had a wise father. He knew his son. When he passed away John's brothers received money or property. John received the trunk Inside of it he found hundreds of clippings about strange people, strange happenings, strange sayings. It had notes covering conversations with famous men in India, France and England. It contained pamphlets about unusual places and cults. In short, it was the heterogeneous collection of a man who had been successively a lecturer, editor of a newspaper in India, member of the British Intelligence service, professor at Yale and the Paris Sorbonne and, finally, a Unitarian minister. Young Mr. Nesbitt dug down into his heritage and came up with a number of things. He came up with the realization that less well-known people are often the most interesting; that many unpublicized endeavors of man are often the most exciting; that seemingly insignificant discoveries are often the most valuable; that even in animate objects have lives all their own. He came up with the conviction that man is more interested in his fellow man than he has time to show. He came up with the firm belief that most people are so busy living that they don't have time to appreciate life. And he came up with an idea that has been his meal ticket ever since. Bundling himself and his nebulous legacy off to a radio station Nesbitt sold the idea for a program called the Passing Parade. It soon moved out of local brackets into a transcontinental hook-up. Several motion picture producers began to see that the natural curiosity human beings have for their kind might be a new and unexploited field of entertainment. Jack Chertok, short subjects producer for Metro-GoldwynMayer, finally swung a deal and for four years now, poignant stories of strange people and odd events, narrated by Nesbitt, have poured from his trunk onto the screen with ever-increasing public approval. Undoubtedly Nesbitt's greatest single asset is a voice and manner of speech which render dramatic and provocative words and facts which might not impress the hearer if presented in a less vital manner. This he owes partly to his father who was slightly deaf and demanded that his children enunciate clearly, and partly to William Shakespeare whom he studied avidly when he was a potential thespian at St. Mary's College and the University of California and later in dramatic stock at Vancouver, B.C. and Spokane, Washington. Often commented upon is Nesbitt's style of speaking which he, himself, contradictory as it may seem, terms "prepared ad lib." Let it be said in this manner. Despite the freshly spontaneous way he sounds in his short subjects there is always a carefully prepared commentary. But he has trained his reading faculties to such a degree that his eyes are usually about three sentences ahead of his voice. This ability to "lead" in his reading makes it possible for him to alter the whole sense of the written paragraphs without interfering with the timing. This gives the ad lib quality while sedulously retaining the accuracy of the prepared script. John Nesbitt's closest approach to sartorial fame is the fact that he wears the baggiest pants in Hollywood. Why? Well out of Papa's trunk, along with all the