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ANNA STEN,
PEASANT
''Nana" has set us all agog over this vibrant, earthy, glamorous creature. Read about her. You'll like her — she's different
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By LYNN FARNOL
SHE'S a little thing, very blonde, with the wide cheek bones of the Russian peasant, a full, sensuous mouth and a short nose. Not one of your lathlike, scarecrow women, but curved deliriously where she should be curved. Her eyes are cornflower blue with a heavy golden-brown fringe of lashes and her brows are straight and rather heavy. The make-up man, thank God, has left them that way.
They will say of her that she resembles a number of our well loved actresses. But they will have to admit, too, that she also looks like none of them— neither Dietrich nor Garbo nor Hepburn nor whoever — but only like herself. Glamor is not quite the word for her, perhaps. Passion is a better word for the new allure she brings to the screen. An earthy, unsophisticated passion quite different from the glamor we have been taught to like.
Anna Sten is too smart for tricks. The blonde from Soviet Russia has puzzled and even irritated Hollywood.
She has made no flip comment on life and love and she has no gift for wisecracks.
She has done none of the things that the screen colony lumps under the heading of showmanship. Anna hasn't worn men's clothes ; she has done nothing about Aimee Semple MacPherson ; she has entertained no congressional committee, channel swimmer or Spanish countess. There is no election night welcome for her as her black coupe comes into
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Zola's naughty romance boasts a large cast. Muriel Kirkland and Mae Clark are Nana's cocotte girl friends. Lawernce Grant is the Grand Duke. Phillips Holmes is the lover. Lionel Atwill is the theatrical producer. And Hardie Albright, a competent wild-oat sower. Richard Bennett is in it, too.