Motion Picture Classic (Jan-Aug 1919)

An Olive From Sunny California B\ :5l:h KOlihKlS "W: i\i g(;l llic litlio.'lO iiiiiiian) c\ Cl loinicJ,'’ sahl ()li\c r!i(Miia>, “bill il's all oiir (iwii. Isn’t it jiifL't"’ Wlicii (llive 'J hoinas ^.ays “Isn’t it luiif” lier ingenue eyes, round and innocent and glisteiiy, sparkle with a spirit sotnevvlial similar to that which must have lighted the e\es of Columbus when First he sighted the western hcmisjihere. When Olive says, “1 had intluenza on Christmas, wasn’t it rotten?” her eyes are still alight with the thrill of discovery. To ph i 1 oso [)h i ze ’ upon |c)live’s eyes is amazingly tempting, but tbe plot of this little tale demands a more substantial if less intriguing introduction. In the land of the creeping celluloid there has lived a man whose vast Financial moves and producing plans have been closely watched, intensely admired, and bitterly feared by rival producers. To a certain extent, Lewis J. Selznick is a picture Cnesiis. His touch upon a picture project turns it to gold, for either himself or some one else. A little more than a year ago the name Selznick disaiiiieared from all electric signs, trade [laper advertisements and newspaiier articles concerning pictures, and Lewis J. became presiclent of the Select Pictures Corporation. Now it happened that Mr. Selznick has a son, just turned of age, who has been associated in all his father’s enterprises. Young Myron didn’t like this hiding of the family name behind a bushel. So short while ago he made up his mind to see what he could do for his country, or rather his patronymic. Thus the reason for the startling news which recently dawned upon the movie horizon : Myron Selznick had organized the Selznick Pictures Corporation and engaged Olive Thomas as his star at a salary of $2,500 a week. After nearly wearing out Mr. Bell’s wellknown invention, I managed to obtain an appointment with Olive Thomas. There was no time for the pink-tea setting or .softly lighted boudoir atmosiphere, which the usual interview should have according to all [laws. Miss Thomas agreed to see me in the office for a moment or two before train-time. Picture an office that belits a king of finance. A desk, large enough to swallow a billiard-table, is monarch of the room. Leather chairs, dee]), sinking-in ones and divans; Oriental (Thirty seven) 'b And e i n 1 s name 5o a he and silver acL(nUiemeni^ are its .wibicvls. among tlle.^e ()ll\e and 1 held court. Olive cuddled into her .^oft sealskin coat with an impatient little shrug. “I certainly do have the worst luck,” she announced, in a perfectly unjierturbed voice. “Here 1 come to New York on a twoweek s’ vacation, to get clothes and do the theaters before starting our new picture and, lo and behold! 1 have to get the tlu. They trundled me off to a hosiiital, and there I spent my vacation, being told if 1 didn't do this and didn’t do that, they wouldn’t be responsible ana I’d [irobably get worse and maybe die. No theaters, no shops, nothing. Jack (Pick ford, her husband) is out on the coast taking pictures, you know, and he wdred frantically every day. I sjient my Christmas in bed. Jack sent me a diamond necklace by a friend of his who had been in the navy. He showed it to me the day before Christmas, but we were afraid to leave it around, so he offered to put it in his safe-dei)osit box. Came Christmas, and 1 wanted my necklace, at least to look at. No way of getting it — wouldn’t you know ? — we had forgotten that he couldn’t get it out on Christmas day. No theater, no ^ necklace, ^1^ nothing. Just / bed and ice-bags. “But I fooled everybody New Y ear’s. All the boys and girls had sent me flowers — pityingly, dont you know. But I made up my mind I was going out if it killed' 'fne. When I walked into the club, you’d have thought I w'as a ghost, every one was so surprised. They greeted me with ‘Why, Olive Duffy!’ My real name w^as Duffy, you know. “For the last two days I have been staying with a friend of mine, and I cant see how she puts u]) with me. I have turned her apartment into a regular office. There have been insurance agents examining me for $300,000 worth of insurance to iirotect the company in case I should expire before my .4 “\Ve have a house out in California and it’s nice weather and all that,” says Miss Thomas. “But there’s nothingto it. No excitement, no big plays. All 1 do is Vi'ork every day and go to the movies in the evening. I told mother I felt just like an Irish workman”