Modern Screen (Jan-Dec 1960)

she has to turn up for performances at the theater. Then, too, as an actress, she's not going to be able to stay in hiding, presswise, forever. But if she feels a sense of loss, there'll be no just-barely trembling lower lip to give reporters the clue, or any other nonsense. "She's too proud to want a lot of mawkish sympathy, she's too loyal to take a chance of even unintentionally putting a friend in an uncomfortable spot, and she's too well-bred to do or say anything that might embarrass English royalty." "I am happy for him" It was a few days after the wedding that I saw Jackie at her apartment. Her first words were a question, "How did you get my telephone number?" She sighed. "I don't know who's been giving it out, but somehow a lot of people have managed to get hold of it. So mostly I've been staying with friends. It's much easier." "Then it's been pretty bad?" "At the theater, the phone has been ringing all during performances. People asking absurd questions which I didn't think important." "Questions such as?" There was a pause. "This last week, what I planned to wear to the wedding. I just don't think it's important what the guests wear to a wedding. One simply dresses to suit the occasion." "Questions about Tony?" "About Tony," she said. "I am happy for him, as one is always happy for one's friends when they get married. . . ." Born in Trinidad of a half-Russian, half Chinese father and a Chinese mother, she'd dreamed of being a dancer. She started dancing lessons when she was seven. Her father was a prosperous photographer and she grew up in an artistic atmosphere. "I think you could say I was a bit of a tomboy," she grinned. "I was the only girl in the family, with two brothers, Gary and Ian, and most of my cousins were boys as well." It was her long black hair that took the worst beating. The boys' favorite pastime was blowing bubble gum into it and she was constantly having to have it cut out. She retaliated by loathing one of the boys' best friends and encouraging the dog to bite him. "The dog was a little Pomeranian," she grins. "And whenever the boy wanted to pet it, I'd tell him to blow into the dog's face because he loved it. Actually, the dog hated it." When she was fifteen, her family made arrangements to send her to school in England. "We were all sent to boarding school somewhere," she remembers. "I think my family rather believed in it. I was happy too. You see, my mother was so young that my elder brother and I felt that she was about the same age we were, and I suppose that this was one reason we were always so independent." Her only regret about leaving was saying good-bye to her one true love. "He was fourteen. Really extraordinary looking— half Chinese, half Spanish, and prematurely grey hair ran in his family, so his was very white. Yes, I was fond of him. But," she grins, "he didn't exactly jump off the dock in despair when I left." Her school was Elmhurst, in Camberley, a town in the south of England, and there were ballet lessons as well as classroom work. "I was very happy there," she says. "There was only one tragedy that I remember — when I first arrived. Nearby was a boys' college and they would invite the girls at our school over for dances, send a bus for us. I'll never forget the first one. Everyone got terribly dressed up. in full organdies. The only dress I had was a slim Chinese one, with little slits up the sides. The boys must have been about sixteen or seventeen and, when we arrived. they stared at me as if I were the most freakish thing in the world. I was terribly embarrassed." She knew what she wanted When she left Elmhurst, she went on to the Royal Academy of Dance. "I thought I wanted to be a teacher. But I discovered that I was completely unsuited for it. I just didn't have enough patience, so I decided to be a professional dancer in the theater instead. "Then one day, the headmistress said that the Windsor Repertory Company was looking for someone to cast in a play called Tobias and the Angel. She knew the man who ran the company and called him. to suggest me. It was my first acting job. I played a little serving girl and did a little dance. I looked so terrible. I didn't have a clue about how to make up. One of the other girls had to show me exactly what to do." But from the moment she stepped on the stage and said her lines, she knew what she wanted to do — become an actress. When she left the Academy, she went to Paris, intending to spend two weeks vacationing and then return and tackle the London theater world. "But somehow the two weeks lengthened into six months," she smiles. "I sat for a few artists. Otherwise, I didn't do anything at all. I had a small allowance from my father. I so fell in love with the city, I almost completely forgot my aim in life. Then one day I ran into a girl with whom I'd gone to school. 'Aren't you going to work?' she asked me. I decided then that I should go back. But if I hadn't run into my school friend, I might still be there." It was a good time for Oriental actresses. She went into the play, Teahouse of the August Moon, as one of the geisha girls. She toured England as the principal dancer in the road company of The King and I. Then she danced in Kismet. There were others. "One was a musical called Simply Heaven, which I thought was marvelous. It lasted for three weeks." Then came Suzie Wong. "I just went MODERN SCREEN'S | brand-new, revised, 1960-01 SUPER STAR CHART is ready! 1 Be sure to get your copy and learn thousands of fascinating facts about stars of the stage, TV, and Hollywood. i Just mail 25 cents in coin with the coupon below. Box 190 Super Star Information Chart Times Square P. 0. New York 36, N. Y. Enclosed please find 25 cents in coin. Please rush my copy of MODERN SCREEN'S SUPER STAR INFORMATION CHART Name Citv Zone. . . . State along and auditioned." she says. "I w given the part of Lily. It's a very sm; one. And I was also assigned to unde I study Tsai Chin, who plays Suzie. Y' know." she adds modestly, "there are j limited number of Oriental actresses I London." Then Paramount began casting the fil I version of the play and, again. Jack "just walked in." Producer Ray Stark ai ' Jean Negulesco (the original director wl departed) simply looked at her and sa^i in chorus. "Ah . . . Gwenny." And | Jackie won the coveted role of Suziej homely girl friend, who can't seem to g't many men ... a part which has bee! built up in the film. Consequently, daytimes, she was playirl Gwenny. a completely different sort j girl, playing Suzie at understudy rehear j als. and Lily during the actual perforn > ances in the evenings. As for how she mar; aged, she says simply. ""It took a bit J adjusting." Jackie talks about marriage Her thoughts on marriage: "I haven't tried," she says. "I've nevJ been married, but I'm quite sure that itl possible to combine a career with mail! riage. That's what I'd like to do. I thinl I would hate to be married to anyone wh is an actor — but I would like my husban to be interested in the theater. "I don't believe that a man must be Eh] boss in marriage necessarily, or the won an either. I think — I hope — that it's quii possible to find some sort of relationshij where no one's boss. "I don't believe in being too much wk! people. It might result in their getting oj each other's nerves. So unless a womal who has children is really happy just stay ing home with them, I think it is nice fcj her to have a career . . . one that she caj work at if she wants to, if she likes." Romance in her life? "There is someonj I'm dating," she says. "He's at Cambridge I'd rather not talk about him or give h] name." (His name's David Cammell. thj brother of the English painter Donalj Cammell. He keeps her picture in h room, escorts her to parties, says, "We'vi known each other for six months. I reallj don't want to say anything about the rej lationship or discuss romance at the mo] ment, but I can't deny that it might bj true.") "In general." Jackie goes on. "I don't lik? aggressive men or women. And I suppo: most of the men whom I've been fond c seem to be terribly slim." About her past and present, Jackie say "I've done what I've wanted to do anj have been terribly happy. I make enoug to live on in my job. And I can't think c anything desperately upsetting that's hap pened to me. . . ." This she says withoi batting an eye, her face expressionless ] Her future is her career. At Paramoun they think she has a bright one. Produce Ray Stark has talked to her about a pai in Kowloon. another big picture, vvhicj will be made in the Orient. Before th Suzie Wong group returned to Hong Kon to reshoot scenes that were scrapped whe France Nuyen left the cast, the power were saying thusly: "We've decided to re lease the picture the latter part of the yea instead of holding it over. We want to g( it into the Oscar race, as we've got son sure-fire performances — we don't see ho1 they can miss nominations. There's Bi Holden, Nancy Kwan . . . and a girl name Jackie Chan." Jackie Chan, a proud, loyal girl, wh with great dignity hides from the wdf] the heartbreak of being the girl Princes Margaret's husband left behind. EN Jackie can be seen in The World O Suzie Wong. Paramount.