Motion Picture Classic (Jan-Aug 1919)

Fhe Man Who Is Never Himself George Fawcett Lives the Characters He Plays By FRITZl REMONT For twenty-seven years footlights, floodlights, Kliegs and Cooper-Hewitts have shed their unrelenting rays over the plastic countenance of George Fawcett. And few character actors have to their credit the creation of as many roles as I Fawcett. Not even a freakish October shower in California could , : dampen the anticipation I felt in hunting up the vicar of “The : Great Love.” But before we’d conversed ten minutes 1 had 1 met a series of the delightful folk and had become intimately i acquainted with the man who is never himself. For even ofifil screen this actor forgets that there is one George Fawcett i and, untterly unconscious of self, tells his story to the accomh paniment of characterizations droll and amusing. “Let’s see — autobiography,” said Mr. F'awcett, with a . chuckle, “that's the horrible history which never interests any ; one but the man who’s writing about himself, isn’t it? Fd i hate' to inflict anything like that on a long-suffering public! “I was educated at University of Virginia, without a care in lithe world, had a very wealthy father, and never ex})ected to do a tap of work for the rest of my days. Of course, I didn’t i want to be an ignoramus, and I enjoyed study, but equally I alluring were the sports at the college. I was captain of our :ball nine all the time I remained there, sang, acted, was in the jiglee club, and did everything well in the way of out-of-door ;! sports. j “Then my father died, after a lingering illness, and when I jjwas called by his attorney to listen to the reading of my dad’s ['will, I was disagreeably surprised that the lavish living of years, together with enormous sums spent in travel and for : I physicians’ services, had made the drawing of a will almost ' la farce-comedy. I “The lawyer said to me — well, Fll show you, I remember j:i so well just how he looked and what he said. Sort of a shortI necked fellow — went over to the door like this, tapped on the 1 jjwindow-panes with pudgy fingers, and said to me, ‘li'liat are \-'you going to do for a living?’ ” : George Fawcett was gone! In his place stood a dignified figure with a noncommittal legal aspect, one hand rumpling I his hair, the other drumming exasperatingly on the glass of [ithe door. We’d left the Griffith studio and were ’way back in ole Virginia, waiting to see what twenty-one-year-old I George Fawcett was going to do, sans fortune and sans Evocation. I “Talk about the riddle of the Sphinx! Why, it was nothing I compared with the question that old solicitor put to me. Work? I didn’t know what it meant. I was strong and husky and certainly not afraid of it, but it was a poser to find I out what I n'as going to do to make a living,” continued Mr. . Fawcett as he dropped into a chair. ;i “I said to the old gentleman, ‘Well, a friend of my father’s I has a big business, and he offered me a job as traveling salesman when I left college. I .suppose that would be open to me jnow. But I dont know that I have any leaning toward salesmanship— it looks like a poor idea to me.’ “The, lawyer coughed. Then he answered, ‘I dont think j|much of it — what else could you do?’ I scratched my head ;|while he puffed at a dark Virginia cigar — see, this way. Then ill tried out another theme. ‘I might go West to the goldfields; ' there s lots doing in Nevada just now. I might be as lucky ijas the rest.’ ? “We both sat silent after that, so it dawned on me that the ;dea was not brilliant after all. ‘Any ijhing else to suggest .' said my father s George F'awcett, in adviser. Then an inspiration chased his famous charac ijicross my mind and I brightened con terization of the lov iflderably. ‘Yes, I’m a good actor. able Md French p<,ilu \e done lots along that line in World” (Thirty-nine) i