Motion Picture Classic (Jul-Dec 1928)

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The secret lies in proper shampooing! Not just soap-and-water "washings", but regular use of a shampoo that really beautifies — one that was created especially to improve dull hair and add that little something extra so often lacking. If you really wish to make your hair bewitcningly lovely — just one Golden Glint Shampoo will show you the way! No other shampoo, anywhere.like it. Does more than merely cleanse the hair. There's a youthimparting touch — z beauty specialist's secret in Its formula. Millions use regularly. At your dealers', or send aSctoJ.W.Kobi Co., Dept. 18-1, 603 Rainier Ave., Seattle, Wash. Money back if not delighted. A Polyannic Pola (Continued from page 22) was sleeping some maidenly sleeps in her own sequestered bedchamber. Nothing was farther from the truth, as the rising curtain amazingly disclosed. The baron nearly had apoplexy. It is to be hoped, in the interests of drama, that the baroness swooned. At any rate, there were goings on. In an anteroom of the Paramount Studio the other day Lucy threw graphic hands in the air to describe to me her father's frenzies. She's a. swell actress because she made me see him, perfectly. As she cannot speak more than three words of English and as I cannot speak the letter A of the Hungarian alphabet, we had to rely on the Doraine gestures — which are plenty — and upon an interpreter to mediate between us. The Beaten Baron "VY/ell, the baron was beaten. Even a baron could see that and when, a bit later, the Bolsheviks uprose, the Perenyi family entrained for Vienna. Lucy, who by this time had taken unto herself the name of Doraine, immediately called upon the Sasha Film Company and was as immediately placed under contract. She was rtever an extra. She seems never to have hesitated in marking out her course. There were no ifs, ands and buts about it. She canvassed the field, knew what she wanted to do and then went and did it. Few, if any, obstacles were placed in her way. She is remarkable iii that. She never struggled for a place in the sun. The sun came right down and spotted her. She made her screen debut under the Sasha banner in "The Lady with Black Gloves." Two years and a half of the Sasha films and she made an agreement with the Emelka Corporation in Germany, she to finance her own pictures and the Emelka to release them under the percentage basis arrangement common in Europe. A year later the Lucy Doraine Film Corporation Pictures were being released by UFA of Berlin. We've all seen some of them. "Good and Evil," "Sodom and Gomorrah," "'The Queen of Sin." Conrad Veidt, now a Holb'woodian, was her leading man at the time. And she had more than a handshaking acquaintance with Jannings and with Camilla Horn. Some . three or four years ago Mr. Schulberg suggested to her that she come across and sign with Paramount. She still had some time to go on her contract and had to refuse. Recently the offer was repeated. The Negri's contract was up. There had to be someone to fill the vacant place. And, this time, Lucy accepted. Pola passes and Lucy steps in. An Emotional Slugger Che is extravagantly brunette and looks *^ healthy. Her eyes arc glisteningly brown, her teeth flashing, her mouth red. Which is as it should be for a lady who excels in roles of sophistication and jungle emotions. The roles that Pola has played. She looks Continental, too. One would never mistake her for an American-made product. She wore white georgette with a lot of black silk fringe and pink roses. She smokes cigarettes embellished with the old-world-famous name of Lucy Doraine. She has been married, of course. To Michael Cortes, the director, now megaphoning on "Noah's Ark" for Warner Brothers. And she says that she will never marry again. Never. She rolled her eyeijl and threw up her hands at the mer(|| thought. But she did protest too much| She'll marry again or something. She'!j| just the type. All that brunette emotionalism and verve will never linger long iril celibate solitude. She's, the kind merj marry. I tried my darndest to get her to say that she was disappointed in this fair lanci of ours. All of the foreigners who have come over here have gooed and gaaed about everything and everyone. I hopedt for better things from Miss Doraine.il Merely a spray of acid would have helped.' I even insisted that she had been disappointed if not disillusioned. No luck. She said "Ooof! Ooof!" and "Nuuu! Nunu!" Vehemently. I couldn't pretend to misunderstand. Through gestures and interpretation I was informed, to my sorrow, that New York was of a marvellousnesi barring descriptio;i. I was told that Lucy had stood in the very center of the pulsing arteries of Broadway, had stood there, quite still, mesmerized, looking — looking — at the lights, the people, the theaters — Broadway! I averted my eyes but there persisted an image of Lucy, resembling a little girl from the Hungarian provinces seeing New York for the first time. That was the image she wanted me to see and .1 saw it. More good acting, you perceive. Because Lucy doesn't resemble a little girl from the Hungarian provinces at all — or any other province, for the matter of that^ The shops, the theaters, Mister Roxy's theater in particular, were all super-super. Lucy inhaled and exhaled prodigiously as she told about them. And the American men — I'd hoped for a slam there — but no — all so kindly, so courteous, so gallant, so very good to look upon. It came to me that MiSs Doraine trembled a bit on her anti-matrimonial platform when she talked of our 100 per cent. Americans. And the American girls — ooo, la, la! So beautiful, each and every one of them. So charmingly dressed, with such a t.istc to everything. I was even assured that an extra girl in Hollywood, hanging on the fringes of a casting director's office would stand a chance of stardom in Europe. So superior is she in general get-up, savoir faire, etc., to the foreign girls of equal standing. Lucy Doraine may well be responsible for a general egress of extras. I still insisted that there must have been some disappointment. Just a teeny, lectle one, in Heaven's name. Come, come, I thought— ^and said — no one is so completely pollyannic. Everyone has some speck of dirt to sling. Well, yes, one disappointment— the garbage pails on the side-streets of New York! The side-streets that branch off from the Hotel Astor to which Miss Doraine loaned her exotic presence. In Europe the garbage pails remain in public view no longer than nine o'clock. But on the side streets of New York — ach, ach! Still, as I was forced to agree, that is a comparatively small matter. As for Hollywood — Heaven is the synonym. There are no words in Miss Doraine's Hungarian vocabulary to tell what she thinks of Hollywood. She will have to play it for me on the piano — she had imagined it but her imagination fell short. Such sunshine, such air, such mountains and sea, such beautiful mens and beautiful womens. And the stars. Chaplin and Novarro. Laura La Plante and Norma Talmadge. Favorites over there. Incomparable over here. F:: T 70 i