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He Acts Natural
By
GLADYS HALL
Which Explains Some Things About Jack Mulhall
You cannot get Freudian about Jack Mulhall. Ah me, what is there to write of when you are dealing with the sunny simplicity of soul of an Irish-American from Wappingers Falls, N. Y. ? How can you go on and on and on about a movie actor who has no dim and dark abysses into which the peering pen can pry and probe? A movie actor who has no complexes, scandals, skeletons or sins? A movie actor who. Heaven help the hapless scrivener, is crazy about his son, his wife, his home, his garden, tennis, golf, swimming, travel, work, mankind. 'T'ain't fair.
Jack has no bone to pick, no axe to grind. Hollywood has done right by him. Producers are good fellows. His fellow actors — and actresses — give him the breaks. Critics are fair. Aooow!
Times may have changed for some folks. They haven't changed for Jack Mulhall. Or rather, he hasn't changed with them. He rides in motors and airplanes. He talks with the talkies. But he has remained, at heart, the James Whitcomb Rileyish barefoot boy who trudged the sunny, dusty roads of Wappingers Falls, N. Y.
A young veteran. A ruddy-haired candidate for the Grand Old Army of the Reelpublic. Seventeen years of movie molehills and mountains finds Jack still in the midst of us, still on top, talking away with the best of the Broadwayites and the other survivors of the fittest.
Only One Full-Grown Dislike
ACK hasn't been downed. He is never discouraged. He believes that men are his friends until they prove to be the contrary, which they don't. He believes that women are more saints than sinners, and if they aren't, he doesn't want to hear about it. He has a lot of lusty likes and few, if any, dark dislikes. The only one full-grown enough to talk about is his detestation of Little Folkswith Big Heads. The sort who are touching you one year and lolling about in their RoUses the next year, looking very distingue or whathave you and saying faintly, "Aow, how ju du"? I w Jack is one of six rampaging Irish1 American Mulhalls. From Wap
1 \^ pincers Falls, N. Y, He still believes in the tenets and the toys of his boyhood. A boyhood hymned by James Whitcomb Riley. A boyhood where the lads hiked {Continued on page 86)
BaohtMch
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