Motion Picture Classic (Jul-Dec 1930)

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Miss Moran, ^^ To Xou, Sir! BY DOROTHY SPENSLEY And Another Calamity Threatens Harassed Hollywood I'M sick of this interview business," said Polly, a baleful gleam in her bright blue eyes. She hitched her skirt belt to a more comfortable position and continued: "Nobody ever writes the truth. They talk to me and then go away and write what they want. They make me out a roughneck. "I'm not going to have any more interviews. Let somebody else be the goat. Give them to — to "Why, there was one story ..." She paused, moistened her lips with her tongue, and a crafty look stole into her eyes. Two people hurriedly left the room. "Sa-ay! You're the one who wrote it!" Oh, sweet shades of Garbo, Moran of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer is going lady-like. She's not going to be interviewed any more. She's going to retire like the Scandinavian into the citadel of silence. She's tired of being misquoted and misunderstood. Bill Haines, half-mast the flag at the front of your new gold-andwhite home! Your little pal is turning refined. Marie Dressier, weep! and let the hot tears course down your mobile cheeks. Your philm playmate, the little gal who gives you lines and takes your cracks — sometimes; your drinking partner of the immortal "Callahans and Murphys;" your cinema sister of "Dangerous Females" and now of the one they're calling "Caught Short," is putting on the Ritz. 0 temporal 0 mores! What's happening to Hollywood.^ Well Enough for Some IT'S well enough for tempestuous, torrid, tantalizing Lupe to get genteel under the gentle guidance of gaunt Gary, but why does Polly have to do it? It's all right for Love and Douglas, Junior, to work a refining influence on our dancing daughter, Joan; to slip a wide old-fashioned wedding ring on the correct finger and get her all worked up over L'Aiglon and other highbrow matters, but does that mean that Polly, our phunny phrolicksome Polly, has to go Emily Post.? It's all right, I suppose, for Alice White to get gentle and dovelike under the radiant administrations of Cy Harriett, to modulate her voice and lengthen her skirts and drive about in a sleek car. But she's too good an example. Polly wants to follow suit. Oh, Miss Moran, please say it's only a pose! "Yeah, you were the one," said Polly, draping her beaded bag over her left knee and shifting her gray caracul coat a bit to the windward. " My mother read it and said ' I suppose it's all right, but couldn't she have given me five years in it.?'" Oh, what's going to happen if Polly goes Godey.? Oh, Marion Davies, what's going to happen to your parties.? Who's going to make vou giggle and shriek? Oh, alack and alors! Oh, weal! Oh, ,1 ■ I woe I Who is going to pose for gag pictures, grapefruit masked by a {('.n^uinufd on page Qj) 65