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tym Hdfywood-and thine
THE unfortunate mess involving poor Richard Greene's enlistment (or lack of it) in the Canadian Army brings to my mind again on what slender threads hang the careers of the Great Lovers of the screen. A year ago when I was on tour I received more hero-worshipping mail about the young English actor than any other Hollywood star. Today, he may be "through" after two brief years of stardom.
It seems to me that the great lovers of the screen have a harder row to hoe than any other public idol. One misstep and their careers are -finished. Character
Valentino had great physical appeal. And to this day there has never been another star who could replace him
actors can lead their own lives and now and then make a mistake. But let a handsome, romantic leading man do something that does not meet with public favor and he is finished !
Frankly, I want to say that I believe Dick is the victim of a misplaced warenthusiasm fever on somebody's part. One of the "inside" stories is that several of his co-patriots in Hollywood (too old to go to war themselves) were responsible for that "call to arms" from the British Embassy which later turned out to be false.
Perhaps the 23-year-old boy did wrong in making such a hurried trip to Canada
Bob Taylor was almost ruined by a kidding press. It took courage to live it down, become more popular
and returning so soon. But at 23 when the world is before us — a career and happiness with a girl we love — Virginia Field in Dick's case — how many of us are wise and level-headed ?
It isn't difficult to remember cases of heroes, past and present, who have tumbled from their pedestals over some small incident. John Gilbert was the idol of feminine America until a little mechanical instrument called the microphone came along to prove that his voice, high and weak, was not as romantic as his dashing appearance. A single slogan of The Butterfly Man ruined Lew Cody's career as a hero and turned him forever into a screen villain. Two girls hiding under Bob Taylor's bed in New York sent him into a dizzy tail-spin from which later he was able to get his balance. But perhaps the greatest tragedy of them all was Wallace Reid.
A HANDSOMER man never cast a shadow on the screen than Wally — but there was never a higher price paid for fame than his. Tall, blond, handsome Wally was the idol of a nation — yet Hollywood broke his heart, ruined his life and wrecked his health. He died at 31 — a victim of a drug habit.
It is amazing that when the tragic truth broke there was no condemnation of Wally from the women who had adored his dashing automobile comedies with good old Theodore Roberts. But the men were less understanding.
Wally was the victim of his own popularity. He was a Great Lover back in the days long before actors' agents carefully regulated their charges' contracts so they wouldn't have to work themselves to death. Reid made eight pictures in one year — something that is unheard of in