Motion Picture Magazine (Aug 1918-Jan 1919)

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If you can, you can make ONE soldier happy Our American boys are OVER THERE fighting to keep us in safety OVER HERE, and while the Red Cross and other organizations are sending them many things to make them happy and keep them fit, such as candy, tobacco and chewing-gum, yet one of their greatest needs is the one that will help them to keep up their morale and hence make them better soldiers, and that is the need of good literature. Several hours daily they have for resting, and what could be better suited for their hours of relaxation than the MOTION PICTURE MAGAZINE and the CLASSIC? They can furnish the bare walls of their barracks with the charming Art Pictures of the Gallery of Players to remind them of home and the many nights at the movies with mother, sister, sweetheart, or wife. You can give them this happiness by simply putting a one-cent stamp on this magazine and handing it to any letter-carrier or by put(7\ting it in any letter-box. C/122 1a&£ Versatile Vivian (Continued from page 52) realized what was wrong. I had painted my eyelids blue, as on the stage, and they would have photographed white and my rouged cheeks would have been black, and I would have looked like a death's head. Sometimes I'm sorry I did not see a test of that make-up, for it would have taught me a big lesson." We had been sitting in the cosy livingroom of Vivian Martin's Hollywood home. I glanced at the piano where the beautiful Indian lyrics showed some one had been singing. "Until I Wake" — I read. On the table lay "When Love Comes In at the Window." This was flanked by many copies of a scientific magazine. Every chair had a lived-in look, every book showed that some one loved it. "Do you sing, Miss Martin?" "Oh, yes — it is my greatest pleasure. Music is so restful to me after the day's work." Vivian Martin reminds one of the Vernis Martin furniture, somehow. You would imagine her brown-haired, wouldn't you? Instead of that she is just one of those delicately moulded little girls with a peachblow skin and the shiniest golden hair parted at the side, boy-fashion. She has big gray eyes, studious eyes ; there is nothing flirtatious about this girl. She loves deep reading and takes intense interest in the various scientific magazines I saw lying about. She says she has few girl friends, that her mother is her best pal, and that as they motor, attend concerts and read at home together, she really has not found time to make intimate friendships outside of her home. Like a dainty ornament this little star shines out against the wicker furniture of her home. She's so flowerlike and sensitive, and yet she is utterly practical and full of initiative and ambition. "You see," continued Miss Martin, "my best friends are the kiddies. I get mostly kid letters, not like other players who are always being admired by grownups. My mail is so cute and so funny — oh, how I love those dear little letters. The children all seem to use their Christmas stationery on me, tiny sheets of paper with bunnies, cats, rabbits and geese on them — and all telling me about their ideas of me on the screen. See, here is one which I think a perfect gem — from a little boy in a small Arizona town; isn't it clever?" I looked at a small pink sheet with Brownies clambering up and down one side. The droll admirer wasted no words, but struck a big note and left one amazed at its depth. "Dear Vivian Martin," read the letter, "I always go to see you play because I like you best and you play ball like the boys. I made up something for you and here it is : Love is the best. Eveil is the opiset; Kind thots are the test. Now witch will you be? The round old earth would be perfect if people Thot love thots; now witch will you be? So I send love to you from Miss Martin continued, "That, letter was quite an inspiration to me. Especially just now when so much hate seems to wander about the earth. I do not affiliate with any particular body, but I read at random, theosophy, Christian Science, New Thought, spiritualism, Confucianism — anything that will present truth to me in some way, and I have evolved a sort of comforting philosophy for myself out of the entire lot." "You ought to play boys' parts, Miss Martin, you look like a miniature edition of Dustin Farnum for one thing!" The little lady laughed heartily. "I'll tell Dusty that. The queer part is that everybody says my father and Dustin Farnum look enough alike to be twins, so perhaps there is something in the resemblance after all. Anyway, I'm quite proud to look like that big, fine man. "I did Peter Pan for a long time. I never saw Maude Adams in it until I had ceased playing it and I'm so glad, for I never want to copy any one, I want to originate as much as possible. When I , did see her wonderful production, I found it very different from my conception of the part. I remember how I cried when I had to give up my Peter Pan costume. I sat in my dressing-room and thought that this would be the very last time I would play that dear part. I had grown to love it so that it seemed like part of my very life. I was leaving the stage forever, it "seemed, and taking up a new line of work — Jone which I was not quite sure I would like. Now my greatest wish is to do L'Aiglon !" "Oh, you are just made for the role !" I cried with such enthusiasm that Vivian Martin confided ai few more secrets to me. "Yes, I feel I can do it. They insist on my playing the childish ingenue parts here, but a day will arrive when I shall be able to please myself. I have talked over this plan with several— and if I can ever play L'Aiglon under Mons. Tourneur's direction — well, after that I dont care what happens. I dont want any star part, or any personal glory — all I hope for is to leave a screen epic, to have an allstar company and to have that great French director create a film for posterity which will be to an audience what a great painting is to the Metropolitan Museum visitors." Catching Up With George (Continued from page 34) Only twenty-five years old and worrying. Somehow they dont seem to go together. Nevertheless it is a fact that George Walsh takes life in general and his work in particular, seriously. That is, he wants to accomplish more and more, and while he often fools on the lot, just as any normal boy would, still he feels that his time is Mr. Fox's, and he works from 8 A. M. — 3res, and way into the night, if necessary — always cheerful, always strenuous, always George Walsh, the speediest boy on the silversheet and the slowest boy off. For his favorite drink is chocolate icecream soda, he never smokes, and all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't make him drive his enormous locomobile over thirty-five miles an hour. And the reason that I had finally caught up with George? He knew I was pursuing him and was too chivalrous to let me languish any longer than five months, seven weeks and four hours for want of seeing him. When all is said and done, George Walsh isn't a woman-hater or really shy or bashful. He is just a splendid, wholesome young fellow, without any foolish follies. He is a real fellow of muscle, brawn and sinew and Oh, girls, he is handsome!