Modern Screen (Dec 1940 - Nov 1941)

HOLLYWOOD GANGS UP ON BRENDA MARSHALL (Continued from page 38) Later, during the course of the picture Brenda felt like expiring on the spot after one of her love scenes with Flynn. Flynn didn't help matters at all and definitely proved himself no gentleman and a scoundrel of the first order by ribbing her about what happened. She had ordered one of the specials in the Green Room for luncheon, a dish of particular delegability. Not until she went into the first afternoon close-up with Flynn did she know there had been a liberal amount of disguised garlic in the dish. Flynn promptly and elaborately swooned, nor would he allow her to forget her innocent faux pas for one minute during the entire afternoon. When she talked with her first Hollywood writer, Brenda learned that a magazine interview wasn't as simple as she'd thought. 'The interviewer insisted upon delving into her past life, asking intimate questions which caused Brenda to fairly curl and shrivel. How was she to know that the writer meant nothing personal? To him, the questions were altogether natural and normal. He simply was trying to ferret out facts which would make an interesting story. Inasmuch as she had always tried to keep her affairs to herself, Brenda found exploration into those affairs a matter of deep concern. For this very reason, the penalty of fame struck her amidships when a Hollywood columnist printed the news that Brenda and William Holden would marry within ten months. At that date, Brenda's divorce from Richard Houston Gaines, stage actor, would become final and she would be in a position to marry again. Brenda was frightfully embarrassed by the episode, for she and young Holden weren't even engaged, much less planning any date for a wedding. Granted they went around together and Hollywood thought they were in love; no formal announcement had been made of any such betrothal. Brenda is a young woman of breeding and refinement, and she believed it particularly bad taste on the part of the columnist. Had Brenda known beforehand what lay in store for her in Hollywood, she might have hesitated before deserting the stage, at least until she had acquired more poise and experience. PAINFULLY shy, she didn't know how to meet the situations into which she was almost immediately plunged. Valiant attempts at sophistication in the Hollywood manner even now haven't radically changed this young actress who was reared in the solitude of a tropical sugar-cane plantation. Born of Danish parentage on the island of Negros in the southern Philippine group, her childhood was passed far from the progressive tide of civilization. Brenda lived in the realm of her father's rather extensive library, and dreams didn't give way to reality until she was sent to an aunt's in San Antonio, Texas, for her education. Interest in dramatics commenced with her enrollment at Texas State College, where she acted in class plays and proved herself an adept performer. She became so engrossed in the idea of a theatrical career that after two years at Texas State — which, by the way, Ann Sheridan also attended — she left to join Madame Maria Ouspenskaya's Dramatic College, then located in New York City. Following her training there, Brenda became a member of a "straw hat" summer stock in Peterborough, N. H., and finally appeared in the Federal Theatre Project's production of George Bernard Shaw's "On the Rocks," which played Broadway for a very nice run. It was in this play that Hollywood talent scouts saw her and recommended her to their respective companies. Warner Brothers chanced to see one of these tests rejected by another studio and wired the youngster, "Take next westbound plane arriving here tomorrow." When she arrived, Brenda resembled nothing quite so much as a luminous eyed Spanish sefiorita. There's a certain deep, smouldering fire about her that, despite her Scandinavian ancestry, gives her an unmistakable , Latin look. Hold your breath girls! Ida Lupino's waist is 2 1 1/4 in. — Filmland's tiniest! That is one reason why she filled the role of Dona Maria in "The Sea Hawk" so perfectly. Hollywood scared the living daylights out of Brenda. It was so vastly different from anything she had ever encountered. Everyone seemed so utterly selfsufficient, so certain of himself. She found it difficult to accustom herself to flattery, to the delving into her personal life, to pushing herself forward when she would have preferred to remain in the background. What Brenda needed was a big dose of egomania, particularly to bridge over those embarrassing interludes she seemed ever to be drawn into. After making four pictures, however, she was just beginning to feel a little bit more important, when she had another deflating experience. Holden had told her that Barbara Stanwyck wanted to meet her, but the opportunity had never presented itself. Therefore, when Barbara came on the Warner Brothers lot to work in Frank Capra's "Meet John Doe," Brenda decided that the time for the meeting had come. Accordingly, she went to pay her a call. She did not, however, reckon with the gateman! Capra sets are always closed, visitors being admitted only with special permission. The gateman wasn't at all impressed with the fact that she was Brenda Marshall and under contract to the studio. She had no business on the set, so she wasn't going to pass. That year in the studio didn't signify a thing to the gate custodian and she had to leave without even a peek at Barbara! NOT long ago she appeared on Bing Crosby's radio program. Memory of that broadcast lingers still, and not pleasantly, either. An hour or so before the broadcast she fell and injured her back, but believed she could go through with the scheduled appearance. She stood with Bing and several others before one of the microphones on the stage. Suddenly, while awaiting her lines, the top page of her script fluttered out of her hands. When she went to stoop for it, however, she discovered to her alarm she couldn't even bend! With her cue less than a minute away, she grew desperate. No one seemed aware of the fact that she had dropped her script, and there she was, unable to do anything about it. Finally she did get down on the floor crawfish-fashion to pick up the fallen page. It was one of her worst moments, for no one could know her awkwardness was caused by her fall; torn sacroiliac muscles had made her practically helpless. Transcending by far all these adventures in embarrassment, however, because it served as a deep and searing blow, was an incident which occurred her first day on a movie set, the day she started "Espionage Agent." During the morning Brenda had appeared in several scenes; then lunch was called. When she returned to the set, she received a terrific shock! There before the camera, in clothes exactly like hers, stood another girl-^ and she was acting out the scene Brenda knew she was supposed to enact directly after lunch! Brenda didn't know what to do, what to say. She felt like sinking through the floor; apparently, she had failed in her baptism-by-fire before the camera, and another actress had to be called in to replace her. No one said anything; no one uttered words of sympathy or commiseration. For this, at least, she was grateful. It was as though the world had come to an end, and she felt frightfully ashamed. She needn't have been, poor child! For that girl in clothes exactly like hers was her stand-in, going through her paces for the benefit of a camera set-up! Every young actress experiences certain embarrassing moments in the realization of stardom, but few can duplicate those Brenda Marshall endured on her way up. She believes firmly, though, and perhaps rightfully, they contributed to her poise and presence. Certainly, she is one of the most composed young women on the screen today. 80 MODERN SCREEN