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.
Red-haired Dorothy's a blonde in "Citizen Kane." Original film name was Linda Winters, but she reverted to her own Dutch tag upon learning there were 6 other Lindas in movies.
Dorothy Comingore had a blind date in Hollywood a few months back with a man wearing a black beard. His name was Orson Welles. As a result, people today are gasping "Citizen Kane" and "Dorothy Comingore" in the same amazed breath and wondering where in the world delicious Dorothy has been all their lives.
The answer is: She's been right around Hollywood telling producers she was good and begging for a Chinaman's chance to prove it but collecting, instead, snubs, suspensions and pink slips that said, "You're fired!"
Dorothy Comingore is the girl the Hollywood studio Pooh Bahs pooh-poohed right up until the public got a peek at "Citizen Kane." If you say her last tag very fast it sounds like "Come-and-Go," which very neatly sums up Dottie's dreary movie career Before Welles. She had been fired more than a furnace and dropped oftener than a hot dish — before a phony press agent gag stepped her out with Beau Orson one night, and he faintly remembered her when casting got tough on "Citizen Kane."
Even while that resounding triumph (which may well become the greatest motion picture of all time) was shooting, the dear old Hollywood geniuses still kicked Dorothy around.
You'll be glad to know, I'm sure, that such foolish shenanigans are things of the past with Dorothy Comingore right now, and a comfortable contract is at last on ice.
So from slavey to queen, she boils right down to one of those Hollywood Cinderellas you've been reading about, with Orson Welles in the role of Prince Charming. Or does she?
If Dorothy's feet are tripping airily around on glass slippers, she's also rubbing ruefully another section of her classy chassis which still aches from boots downstairs. If she's Cinderella, Dorothy is Cinderella the hard way.
The day I saw her in her trim little North Hollywood house, she was running true to form. Her brand new baby daughter had just fallen on her head, and the Scotch nurse had been carted off minutes before in ah ambulance with acute appendicitis. Despite this domestic crisis, Dorothy emerged serene and beautiful.
She has hazel-green eyes that catch sparks of gold from a glorious mop of curly red hair, her own red, too, not a bottle's. Her skin is white as morning cream,. her hands are classic, her mouth is wide and rosy. When she smiles, you know she has sex; when she talks, you know she's got brains. In the figure department — well — Dorothy's silhouette has had a career all of its own, that's been part of the trouble.
But all that's fairly along in the sad story. Comingore catastrophes began bunching hits long before. When Dorothy was six and a spunky little native daughter of Los Angeles, her folks took her to a neighborhood movie, and it happened to be amateur night. When they called out
54
MODERN SCREEN