Modern Screen (Jan-Jun 1945)

Pond's "Lips" stay on. . , and on and on ! r 6 scrumptious shades «4 in a BIG metal case ! 49<t, plus tax was 'Coney Island,' and I'll always remember you like you were in that. I just wish I could hear you sing again." When Betty got that one, she went right over to the recording studio and sang two numbers especially for that blind hero. "Cuddle Up a Little Closer" and "Put Your Arms Around Me" — his favorites. one little, two little, three little vickies . . . Betty's marriage and motherhood hasn't dimmed her popularity or appeal to the Army and Navy one bit, I'm glad to say. When Vicki's birth was announced, she got herself swamped with baby gifts from every outpost where Old Glory was flying. One Fortress crew in England who'd christened their ship "The Blonde Bomber" and painted Betty's picture life-size on the fuselage, started painting tiny crawling babies for every mission they'd accomplished! There were twelve little Vickies on it when Nazi flak finally winged it. Betty gets along well with other girls, as she does with everybody, but she has no real close girl friends. She'd be lost in a "hen party." She's not gossipy or catty or jealous at all, although it does seem that whenever she is halfway friendly to another star, some Hollywood gremlin gets busy and cooks up a phony feud or rival story, which makes Betty miserable. Next to her mother and sister, Marjorie, Betty's as friendly with Alice Faye as anyone. When Harry's in town, the Jameses see a lot of Phil and Alice, and now that both couples are family folks they have a lot to talk about besides orchestras and acting. Alice, who expected her baby the same time Betty did, had a date to drop by and see Betty and talk stork stuff the day she was carried off to the hospital, and the last worried request Betty made before she went under the ether was for Mrs. Grable to call and explain to Alice why she had to stand her up. But because they're on the same lot and both sing — even though Alice doesn't want to any more — every time a musical role comes up, newspapers revive a tired old "feud" story. It seems a couple of the parts that brought Betty fame, "Down Argentine Way" and "Tin Pan Alley," were originally scheduled for Faye, who got ill and couldn't handle 'em. The same catty bit of ballyhoo happened in reverse recently when Vivian Blaine, a newcomer at Fox, got her Cinderella break in two pictures ordered first for Betty — "Greenwich Village" and "Something For the Boys." The one time this year that Betty stepped out, to Xavier Cugat's opening night at Ciro's, she happened to sit near Vivian, but the tables were placed so that their backs were to each other, and they never saw each other all night. That was duly and elaborately reported as a Grable snub and laid to the fact that Betty was "jealous." On the contrary, Betty's probably the most open-hearted, easy, non-temperamental star in Hollywood. She plugged, for instance, to get pretty new June Haver (who looks dangerously like a young edition of Grable) in a good part in Fox's super, "The Dolly Sisters." That sort of thing Betty has done time and again for newcomers. She's pushed along the screen careers of dance experts Kenny Williams, Hermes Pan and Betty's dance stand-in, Angie Blue, by getting them in person before the camera. She wangled a stock contract at RKO for Bobbie Coleman, a girl who used to work in the Cafe de Paris at Fox. Betty's actually the chummiest star at her studio with the little people she works with. Her table right in the middle of the room practically bans any big-shot ranked above a stand-in, and it has the reputation of being the noisiest, gayest table in the cafe. The first person at the studio to know Betty was wearing a ma donna halo was John Harvey, a young actor who worked with her in "Pin-Up Girl." Betty was trying to keep her secret a secret then, but at the same time trying to give John some pointers on how to get more camera attention out of his part. So he was in a position to observe with what turned out to be an experienced eye. It was still a secret when John calmly asked Betty one day, "When are you expecting your baby?" "How did you know?" gasped Betty. "Oh, that's easy," grinned Harvey. "My wife's expecting, too. I know all the symptoms." temperamental as a turtle . . . About parts, wardrobe, make-up, directors or anything else at the studio, Betty has about as much temperament as a turtle. She has never "struck" or been suspended or tried to be the grande dame around the set. If there ever are any kickups on her part, they're likely to be a plug for the little people. Like the time on "Coney Island" when she broke up the company. I'd better explain first that extras, bit players and mobs on a set carry a standing pet peeve against eager beaver directors who get wrapped up in their art and forget to call a halt for a full noon hour. Well, on this picture the director had been a little guilty of that sort of thing, and he lined up one morning scene featuring Betty just three minutes before the clock hands went straight up. They all got set finally, the camera focused, the lights blazed, the director yelled, "Action!" Betty opened her mouth as if to sing. But instead she rang the rafters, yelling, "LUNCH!" as loud as she could. The foiled director yelped "Cut!," the extras roared and applauded, and Betty grinned. That broke it up. They went to lunch! Actually, Betty likes to work. Like her favorite star, Bing Crosby, it's easy as pie for her, too. She hasn't taken a script home in years. Used to memorizing song lyrics ever since she was twelve, she catches her lines in one easy lesson. Her seven-year, no option contract at Fox makes certain she'll be in there pitching for a long, long time to come, which is okay with Grable. Although she'll be a lot happier when Harry stops running off to play back East and wangles his coast-to-coast broadcasting from Hollywood. That prospect looks rosy now, too, because Harry's new three-picture-a-year contract at M-G-M is going to keep him close to home. So far there aren't any James family plans to launch Victoria Elizabeth on a movie career, although that blue-eyed doll already has all the witching personality of both her maw and paw. Besides, she got her name, you know, from Vickie Lane, the character Betty played in "Springtime in the Rockies," the fatal picture which brought Betty and Harry James together. Betty herself quips away any such future movie-mama suggestions with, "How can she be a glamour girl when she's bald?" She also points to the discouraging only time she brought Victoria on the set. Vicki didn't like it one bit and set up a terrific fuss with tears and tantrums. But, after all, it's the fans who have the final word on such mighty matters. And only the other day Betty got a letter from a soldier fan which might be a tip-off. It was addressed to Miss Victoria Elizabeth Grable, and when Betty opened it, a quarter fell out in her lap. "Dear Vicki," penned the GI hopefully. "I've always been crazy about your mother — but it looks like I lost out to Harry James. So keep this quarter — and when you grow up to be a beautiful movie star — send me an autographed picture, will you?"