Modern Screen (Dec 1935 - Nov 1936)

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.

MODERN SCREEN One of the ''Biggies'' {Continued from page 11) the Eddie Cantor broadcasts for weeks ; he croaked his loyal support to Al Jolson, and also to Fred Allen (incidentally, his favorite comic) ; and he was a mainstay of the "Buck Rogers" serials. "In one of 'em," he grimaced at the recollection, "I played 'a web-footed dwarf king living under water.' His name was Og. O— g. I was so good they wouldn't let me quit." Jay sighed. "That disillusioned me," he said. He got into broadcasting by accident, as he has into most things. Although he'd had six years on the stage in Manhattan, there wasn't enough activity to keep him busy all the time. So he tried writing ether skits as a sideline. He ended up playing one of his own characters. THOSE six years in the theatre had been, in their way, as extraordinary as anything else that happened to Stander. He was cast in flop after flop, until, at the close of the sixth season, he'd counted up to twenty-eight. He didn't really mind, though — as fast as one closed, he'd go into rehearsal with another. His stage debut was accomplished quite , unexpectedly, and almost without conscious volition on his part. Stander had been reporting for the Long Island News when a friend took him backstage at the Provincetown Playhouse. The director, James Light, was rehearsing a Biblical parable called "Him," by e. e. (lower case!) cummings. He needed a Roman centurion who could shoot crap. The friend nodded toward Stander. "There's your man." Jay walked up, delivered a phony spiel on his "career" as an actor, and added that by training, condition and heredity he was a crapshooter. Not only did he get the job, but by the night of the premiere he was filling five other minor roles in the same piece. Stander was nineteen then. Besides reporting, he had done almost everything you can think of in the five years just preceding. It began at fourteen, when he first left home. His first job was as an office boy in a shirt factory. Subsequently, he became a taxi driver, a tile-setter's helper, a ditch digger, foreman in a pictureframe shop, a lifeguard, a waiter, and a salesman for, variously, photo-lithographs, automobiles, printing, insurance and newspaper ads. As messenger boy for a bond house, he lost $167,000 worth of securities. He got them back three days later, but not his job. Stander's passionate interest in world affairs, his decidedly liberal leanings, are probably an outgrowth of his contacts with life in its many metropolitan phases. Some of them were bitter, although he himself has never felt the pinch of want. Born in New York City on January 10, 1908, of German-Russian parentage, he attended the local public schools intermittently. The eldest of three children, he spent a good deal of his youth setting a bad example for a brother, Alvin, and a sister, Frances. He was kicked out of nine institutions of learning. One time he ghost-wrote a book on political economy for a professor who, a conservative himself, appeared serenely unavvare of the quite opposite implications of his published work. Today, at twenty-eight. Jay finds himself one of filmdom's "biggies." But he isn't kidding himself. "Now," he croaks, "they "SKIP-FLEA THE BEST I HAVE EVER TRIED (Hollytourne Kennels, 8. L. Proelich, 500 8(7i Ave., New York City) • RID YOUR DOG OF FLEAS. Here are two sure ways: Powerful "skip-flea" Powder kills fleas with certainty. Doesn't just stun them. They stay dead! Big, siftertop tin gives you double quantity for your money. Costs only 25c. Use famous "skip-flea" Soap if you prefer. It too costs only 25c. . . Your dog will love its rich, foamy lather. Makes his skin supple, keeps his coat beautiful, soothes flea bites, destroys dog odor, and it kills EVERY FLEA ! Write for your Free Copy of Sergeant's famous book on the care of dogs. It may save your dog's life. Your dog deserves the best. Sergeant's Products have been Standard since 1879Made of the finest ingredients. Every product Guaranteed. Sold by dealers everywhere. Free Advice. Our veterinarian will answer questions about your dog's health. Write fully, giving full symptoms. POLK MILLER PRODUCTS CORP. 1973 W. BROAD ST., RICHMOND, VA. SKIP-FLEA SOAP AND POWDER ^ juLd SItQ Jlo\^Q a Cfi^oLo? Paris! Montmartre at midnight! Music ous Love! Laughter . . . Glamor And three lovely little debs, locked in their rooms, with not a date in sight! Until — along came three "gigolos" . . . Don't miss "Blonde Bait," the exciting story of three schoolgirls in Paris, who escaped their chaperone and went on a spree. Look for It in the August issue of SWEETHEART STORIES. Another feature for August is "Such Men Are Dangerous," a complete novelette of army life in the Philippines, the story of the general's granddaughter who was shunned by the officers and men because they feared she would "kiss and tell . . ." Look for the August SWEETHEART STORIES On Sale Everywhere 10c 9i