The New Movie Magazine (Jan-Sep 1935)

HARD-TO-GET HEPBURN You will like this story of an interview that never came about; told as only this writer can tell it By ELSIE JANIS The New Movie Magazine, April, 1935 FROM the moment I saw her in "Bill of Divorcement" I hit the Hepburn Trail. To say that it has been winding is putting it more mildly than it is my habit to put anything. I had a fairly good start but I got lost in byways which were then and still remain today so lined with press bunk. I read so much about the Elusive Elf, the Screen's Sprite, Kaleidoscopic Katie, Diana in Dungarees and other disturbing descriptions that I said to myself, "What the — Hepburn! There are plenty of stars to write about. Why try to tag around after what appears to be an itinerant comet?" I went to see all of her pictures. Admired, wondered, but did not pursue. Last week, out of a far from clear sky, Mr. New Movie said to me, just as calmly as if he had been saying Christmas is coming, "Hepburn's in town. What about an article?" "What about it? I'll bite," I crisped. "Do you know her?" said Mr. N. M. who somehow thinks I'm a pal of everyone from Diogenes to the Dionne Quintuplets. I admitted that I had met and lunched with her, but I added from what I read about her she might have thought I was just another chicken sandwich and she sent the one she ordered back. I'm sure you will be as relieved as I was to learn that she did not think I was a chicken sandwich and she remembers our meeting vividly. She chuckles audibly even when she thinks of it, and well she should, because what at the time seemed to me a very serious situation turned out to be just another of the many Hepburn gags. Without undue conceit I venture to announce that when anyone plays a joke on me and I take it seriously that one goes to the head of the class. Just what class we won't say, but anyway Katie, aided and abetted by the late Lowell Sherman and Doug Fairbanks, Jr., put one over on my sense of humor which I still insist was dazzled by the combination of studio lights and the Hepburn teeth. This is what happened. I had told Doug Jr. how crazy I was about Hepburn. He had told me what a "swell egg" she was and added in the casual Fairbanks manner, "Why don't you come down on the set? You know Lowell Sherman, don't you?" I admitted that I not only knew the ace director well, but loved him likewise. "I'll leave word at the gate that you are coming," said Doug. That should have been that, but when those three comics, Hepburn, Sherman and Fairbanks were making the very fine screen sensation "Morning Glory," the so-called "set" was one continual "set-up." Practical jokes. Time out for laughs and fierce fun for everyone who was in the know. I happened to be out of same, so when I walked in holding my breath at the sight of the Hepburn rehearsing a scene, I was somewhat embarrassed to see Mr. Sherman turn his back on the lady's histrionic efforts and hear him call, "Hello, Darling. Come right in. A chair for Miss Janis please." He pulled the chair close to his own and proceeded to talk and laugh as only he could. No introduction to the star who was being interrupted. Doug strolled out of the scene to greet me. I was so fussed and worried over what Miss Hepburn was thinking about this rude procedure that I couldn't listen to the welcome I was receiving. (Please turn to page 72) Above, left: A recent portrait of the elusive Hepburn and, left, as "Bobbie" in her latest hit picture, "The Little Minister." 19