Modern Screen (Dec 1952 - Nov 1953)

go down, so I could get under the bench. But they had flash bulbs— and the only consolation I had was that some of the photographers got some great shots of the top of my head. The next day at the studio I insisted that the American press agent, employed by the studio, take a hand and see if he couldn't stop this situation from getting any more romantic. He was very appreciative of my problem and promised to think of something. One of the biggest events of the year in Mexico City is the annual film festival. A lot of American stars come to Mexico and the players of each country put on a big show for the press and public. Naturally, I had to go, no matter how much I craved solitude at the moment. But as soon as I stepped into the auditorium, I grabbed an official and I said if I was obliged to do any talking with anyone it was all going to have to be in English. He tried to point out to me that very few Mexicans would understand me, but by that time I was only concerned with me understanding what was going on. While I was talking to him he kept backing me up and the next thing I knew I was on the stage looking at about 5,000 people. '"Phere was nothing to do, of course, ex cept bow and walk over to the center of the stage where, so help me Harry, Blondie stood alone as big as ever. Except that by this time she was beginning to look like Bela Lugosi to me. I was trapped, but determined. "Look here, madam," I scowled at her quietly, "I've got to know what you're saying this time, so I can answer intelligently." She grabbed me by the arm and squeezed and whispered to me. "I am going to tell them how much you love Mexico, Mexican films and the Mexican people," she said. "And all you have to say is 'Mucho, mucho,' and they'll understand." "Well, watch it," I said. "And stick to the subject." She waited for quiet and rattled off a long string of Spanish, then she looked coyly at me. "Mucho, mucho," I said. You'd have thought I'd just given them Texas the way those people cheered. Things are getting a little better I thought. Once again this spellbinder got going with the language then gave me a little hug. "Mucho, mucho," I said, not quite so eagerly. This time you'd have thought I'd abolished taxes. The folks just went plain nuts — and Blondie reached up and gave me a little squeeze. I stopped saying, "Mucho," right then. And I'm not ashamed to admit that I discovered I have a streak of cowardice. I slid over to one side and made a fast exit. That night, with the lights out and the moon shining in the open window I lay in bed and swore an oath that never, never as long as I lived would I stand beside that woman again, or stay in the same room with her. And I never did. But it didn't help a bit. I didn't have to read Spanish the next morning to know what was in the papers. "Our beautiful Mexican actress confesses she might be in love with Glenn Ford!" they said, or words to that effect. "And," cried another headline, "Glenn Ford, when asked by our beautiful Mexican film star if he could love her, shouted 'Mucho, mucho.' What a beautiful pair they are. What a couple of romantic lovers!" "What a crock of sauerkraut!" I was howling at the press agent ten minutes later. "What are they doing to me? Can't somebodj fell them I am a happily married man? Hoy.' can this happen? Do something!" 60 A man came in and said that my "Friend" was on the telephone. "You tell her," I said, "that I wouldn't talk to her if she was afire and I knew .where the only fire hose in Mexico was." "We seem to have a serious situation here," said the press agent. "What do you think I've been trying to tell you?" I said. "If this keeps up I'll be living in a hotel when I get home. Do something about it." "It appears," he said thoughtfully, "that this actress has just about the hottestshot press agent in the western hemisphere. And she's using you to get space." "Okay," I said. "Hire her press agent away. Have him arrested. Get her space with somebody else. Find her a nice local fellow with no family. Get Bogart down here and have the lot of them rubbed out. But move fast, I feel a hot breath on my neck." Feminine charm is like garlic — heavenly if not overdone. Ava Gardner The hot breath was all over me the next edition. Apparently upset because I wouldn't accept her phone calls, the lady had given an interview to the papers — which they ran under the usual headlines— stating that she was not so sure now she was in love with me. Good! I thought. But down further I saw my name again and had it translated. "Why?" the newspaper asked, "does not Glenn Ford speak his feelings for our beloved film star? Is he not a man? Is he going to allow our lady to pine because of his ungallant manners. He is surely no gentleman if this is so." X>y this time I was surely no gentleman for sure. I was happy to tell anybody who would listen to me just exactly what my feelings for the lady were. But it never got in the papers. The next day all of the Mexico City papers were at me. They almost made me hate myself. "Is this American movie star to be allowed to publicly insult by his silence the flower of our country? Is he to be permitted to break the heart of the loveliest lady in our. land. No! Stern action must be taken to halt this. Such a man is not fit to be in our city." And in another paper: "Miss , in an exclusive interview with ■ this reporter, stated that she could not understand what had happened between her and Glenn Ford, but she was coming to the end of her patience. She is not at all sure now that she would forgive him if he came crawling to her on his knees. What a shameful situation," it continued. "Who is this man who was welcomed here as a guest and who has made a fool of our sweet lady? Who, in truth, has ever heard of him?" "Everybody has now heard of me," I roared at the press agent a little later. "Would to God nobody in this corner of the world had, though. When are you going to do something." "It seems," he said quietly, "that the. young lady has a lot of cousins who are very influential with the press." "That is the silliest thing anybody ever said," I yelled. "This girl apparently owns the press." The press agent was trying to stuff a newspaper up the back of his coat while we talked. "What are you doing there?" I asked "Nothing," he said. "It's just an old newspaper I'm saving." "That's a funny place to save a newspaper," I said. "Let me see it." "Later," he said. "You're a little upset right now." "I've been upset ever since I got here,'"' I bellowed. "Let me have that paper." He handed it over. I saw a cartoon, • depicting the lovely flower of Latin i American films. I got out my little die } tionary, but I really didn't need it. "Who needs a Ford," the caption read, "I have a Cadillac." "That does it," I said. "Get me writers, lawyers, police. This is the last straw. We're going to give a statement to the press and they're going to print it if I have to go to the President and the American Ambassador." Finally, at long last, I got a word in the papers. It was difficult to know what to say, because I was a stranger in a foreign; country, and I had made many friends, j and had developed a good deal of respect for the Mexican people. But I remembered that the lady was not a Mexican, but a European, and I was so fed up with being misunderstood that what I said! had to be to the point. Because I was I innocent of any complicity in this "ro~! mance" I felt I did not have to be polite i beyond ordinary dignity, so here is what appeared in the papers the next day: "When questioned concerning statements made by Miss '■ — , Mr. Ford] stated he had not read in full translation! the articles in question. 'However,' Mr. I Ford said, T have received such magnificent and wonderful hospitality from my! co-workers and friends in Mexico, I feel that if Miss 's statements are helping her career as an aspiring actress, then I am glad to be of assistance. When she does achieve the full success she is seeking, she will probably adopt mora dignified methods of achieving publicity.' ' If that sounds rough, it is exactly whaj I intended it to be. I wanted an end tq the matter, and no future speculations ai to my relationship with the lady. And '. wanted the pecple of Mexico to knovi that I was aware the whole thing was a publicity stunt at my expense. That night I rested comfortably for the first time irj weeks. Everything was fine, wrapped up and over with. T ad, it was only the beginning. All th *-* cousins went to work on me at one The papers did, too. Someone told me th lady's boy friend was looking for me with a knife. A friend in the governmenl wanted to deputize me, so I could carry i gun. Now, the company press agent decided to get into the act. He invited th< lady to meet him at a restaurant and talk the whole thing over. They met— and those who were present say it was quite an occasion. It seems the lady denied that most ol the articles had appeared. The press agent said they had so. All of the paper; for the past few weeks were orderec from the news offices and when thej were brought the only place they coulc be spread out was on the bar. While tht lady and the press agent began heatedlj flipping through the pages and makinf and denying charges, the bartender begai setting up drinks along the line, and ii a couple of hours neither the lady nor mj defender were feeling any pain. A couple of days later I got on a plan( and came home. When I looked at mj house, and saw my wife and son standinj in the doorway waiting for me, I wantec to get down on my knees and kiss my owi driveway. Ellie had a twinkle in her eye and after I'd kissed her she started t< say something. I held up a hand. "There will be no baiting of Father," said. "Father has had it. I have had a ba< dream. I am now going up to bed an( have a good one." And I did. And it wa all in English. What's new, indeed! — Glenn Fori <