Motion Picture (Feb-Jul 1932)

All tlie World's Goin^ to Love This Lover I\URENC E OLIVIER, up to now, -W has been known to movie fans chiefly as "the man who looks like Ronald Colman.-' Great prophecies for his screen future have been made on the basis that he's a younger and livelier edition of the reticent Ronnie. He has just turned twenty-four. Naturally, Laurence hates this kind of publicity, though he admits that on the screen there is a striking resemblance between them. This came about because Laurence played Ronald's part in "Beau Geste" on the London stage. ' ' The English public had been mad about Colman in the picture version," Laurence explained, "so the producer thought, in his whimsical way, that it would be well for me to look as much like him as possible. He told me to do so, and first of all to grow a mustache and cut it like Colman's." This he did, with the aforementioned results. But it would be too bad if Laurence were to be regarded as a claimant for Colman's honors. He has too much charm and individuality and talent of his own to deserve such a fate. And, moreover, the two men are really not in the least alike — except for that general similarity which all well-bred Englishmen seem to have. Laurence is taller, and slimmer, and more impulsive, and livelier, and not one-tenth as mysterious. His eyes are blue, instead of brown. He's happily married, and didn't have any parental opposition to his stage career, and he's gregarious and accessible. Really not at all like Ronnie — except in a great yen for England. B y Hi isn c their voting ooks a bit like Ronald Colman, which , exactly an accident — but that's where resemblance ends. Laurence Olivier is er, livelier and more impulsive has had all sorts over, he's desperately of actina tr le screen. and he experience. More y in love — and acts it on you think of z will hold him back? >pe Can His Most Surprising Habit HE has an air of complete indifference, an isn't-it-all-silly manner, as if everything he said and did were quite by accident, with no serious intent. He alternates between an attitude of patience and bursts of extravagant enthusiasm that cause him to throw himself around, gesticulate, give imitations, and then suddenly subside into his former inertia. Nothing in his conversation may seem to account for these wild changes of mien. It's as if an electrical connection were made, and after sparkling a moment, abruptly broken. He seems completely flexible in mind and body. And he has that disarming characteristic of many young Englishmen — in the very nicest way, he assumes that the world is his oyster. Laurence has been married for a year and a half to Jill Esmond (who made her talkie debut as Ruth Chatterton's daughter in "Once a Lady"), and they're terribly in love. The pressagents don't want the public to know of the marriage, because they're afraid the fans won't be properly thrilled when Jill and Laurence are teamed on the screen. But if the public knew how romantic they are in private, they'd be more thrilled than ever. For instance, here's a typical episode in the life of the romantic Oliviers. They decided to go fishing at Catalina Island. Not having much money, they borrowed some from the butler. They missed the boat, and with a total capital of sixty-three dollars, they flew over to the island. Which Proves They're in Love E couldn't afford the good anything that W: hotel," said Laurence in one of his illuminated moments, "so we stayed at a lovely little dump where we just slept — got nothing, not even a cup of tea. We couldn't afford meals, because we wanted to go deep-sea fishing the next day — and that costs money. So we caught some sand-dabs, and took them into a little restaurant and asked them to cook them for us. We just acted as if they were accustomed to do that sort of thing. The next day, we went out in a boat and I caught a marlin. It was swell. I did everything wrong, the boatman was furious with me, and I didn't deserve to catch it. In the midst of it, Jill held it while I put another reeNn the camera. Later we hired a motor boat and ran into a school of porpoises, (Continued on page 92) ELISABETH GOLDBECK 66