The New Movie Magazine (Jan-Sep 1935)

New! AN EMOLLIENT MASCARA that gives lashes new glamour If you don't agree on these three superiorities, your money back JbbUAM, UWVL without question. HpHIS introduces my final achievement in cake mascara, my new emollient Winx. I bring women everywhere the finest lash beautifier my experience can produce — one with a new, soothing effect that solves old-time problems. It has three virtues, this new emollient Winx. (l) (2) (3) It has a greater spreading capacity, hence it hasn't the artificial look of an ordinary mascara. Its soothing, emollient oils keep lashes soft and silky with no danger of brittleness. It cannot smart or sting or cause discomfort. It is tear -proof, smudgeproof, absolutely harmless. I'm so confident that I've won leadership in eye make-up that I can afford this offer. Give your lashes a long, silky effect with Winx Mascara. Shape your brows with a Winx pencil. Shadow your lids with Winx Eye Shadow. The result will delight you, giving your face new charm. Buy any or all of my Winx eye beautifiers. Make a trial. If you are not pleased, for any reason, return the box to me and I'll refund your full price, no questions asked. EYEBROWi PENCIL^ ATALL MASCARA Fred Astaire's Secrets of Success {Continued from page 28) mined to forge ahead alone. The task looked tough, but proved easy for his twinkling feet. He opened in New York in the stage show, "Gay Divorce." An instant hit! An RKO official saw the show, whipped out his pen, and — well, that's how contracts are born. That's how Fred's worries were born, too. Fred slipped quietly into Hollywood and went to work. No blatant fanfare of publicity. Just work and, piling up gradually, worry. The dancing king of the stage was wondering how well he'd retain his crown on the screen. As he described his feelings I realized what a mistake it had been to put Fred down as merely the carefree young blade of a few paragraphs ago. "I found myself gripped by a sickening feeling when I stepped before the camera," he confided. "For one thing, I've always hated being photographed. Now I have to do it for a living! But if the feeling it gives me isn't a firstclass dose of old-fashioned stage-fright, it'll certainly do until some comes along ! "When a scene actually begins, I throw myself into it and the feeling passes. When Ginger Rogers and I danced 'The Continental' in 'The Gay Divorcee,' I remember, the cameras were on us for over two minutes — a terribly long scene to do without a break. Thank heaven, that doesn't happen often. "When a scene is finished, I worry for weeks as to how it will look in the finished picture. It's silly, but I can't seem to help it. My one consolation is supervising the cutting of my dance sequences, so I can throw out what isn't good." Later, on the set where he was filming his current picture, "Roberta," with that blond whirlwind, Ginger, Fred's actions bore out his words. Director Bill Seiter was ready to shoot "The Conversation Dance," sprightly successor to "The Continental." During the usual focusing of cameras, testing of sound apparatus and miscellaneous fussing about which precedes an important "take," Fred Astaire watched with apparent nervousness. His body was tensed, like a fighter awaiting the gong. He smoothed his sleek brown hair, adjusted costume, flexed his fingers, tapped off a few lightning steps — in short, for those brief moments Fred Astaire, dancing king of the world, was a stage-struck youth about to plunge into the delicious horrors of a first performance. But when the click of the "sync-slap" sent him into action, he was perfect. When that scene is shown, I can already hear the audience whispering: "I'll bet he hasn't a care in the world!" And now you see why worry makes him perfect? Worry keeps him practicing his routines for months before the camera records a single step; practicing until he's so adept there is no chance of muffing. It seems ironical that now, with success won, Fred Astaire cannot stop his worrying, and let his crown rest easy. "But I have dreams," he told me, back in his dressing-room, "of audiences walking out on me. It's my pet nightmare." Then he smiled, "I've extracted a shred of comfort from it at that. Whenever the dream occurs before the opening of a show or picture, the actual performance turns out to be okay. It Some women still suffer regularly; martyrs to the time of month. Others have put this martyrdom behind them. The days they used to dread are just a memory. They approach this time without any fear. They pass it without the old discomfort. Midol has made periodic pain a thing of the past for many, many women. "Oh, yes," say some who have read about it, and heard about it, "but my suffering is so severe, and I've tried so many things that didn't help! Midol may not end all the pain for me." True, there are women who are not relieved of every trace of pain when they take these tablets. But they get such a large measure of relief that they are quite comfortable in comparison. The comfort is not momentary, not an interlude, but sustained comfort from the start. The best time to begin with Midol is before any discomfort is felt. You may escape all pain. You are sure to have an easier time. The action of this medicine is effective for hours, and two tablets should see you through your worst day. Why postpone this comfort another month? One reason some women still hesitate to try Midol is their doubt of its being as effective as advertised. Doubters should just ask anyone who has tried it! Another reason for hesitating to take these tablets is the fear that Midol may be a narcotic. It is not. The next time you are in a drug store, pick up a package of Midol. You will find it right on the counter. If not, just ask for Midol. seems to be a good bad omen. "The other day, however, my audience did walk out on me — a big black spider, which appeared from nowhere and began prancing around my feet. " 'If you want to dance with us,' I told him, 'you'll have to lead with your left foot!'" "Having eight feet, he may have felt embarrassed. At any rate, he disdained an answer, but retired into a crack in the wall." INCIDENTALLY, you should see * Fred rehearse ! He dons old tap shoes (he wears out almost a pair a day), ties his necktie around his waist and goes at it like a fiend. He gets dance ideas at odd times and from many sources — music, paintings, people. And he calls them by weird names — "Little Toots," "Dead Dog," "Old Dutch Hop." Develops them step by step and carries them in his head. Fans are constantly writing him, Fred declares, for the diagrams of dance-steps which he never writes down. Needless to say, this requires a marvelous memory. And Fred also has that something — personality, if you will — which, in dancing, means the all-important difference between "good" and "great." "Always be the originator, never the imitator," is his advice, both to beginners and to himself. Fred's achievements are the things he hates to talk about. No more will he demonstrate them at parties, and seldom attends Hollywood functions for that reason. His gift for song-writing, too, he passes off with a laugh. He ignores his published successes such as "Blue Without You" and "Not My Girl," to say: "A tune I wrote called 'Tapping the Time' broke all sales records. Sold four copies, of which I bought three myself!" He forgets to mention being selected as one of the world's dozen best-dressed men. And he is, of course, an excellent comedian. He wants some day to play "rubes" and "muggs" on the screen, if he doesn't retire too soon. "I do want to retire early enough to enjoy life — in private," he said earnestly. "To me, dancing is a job. I'm not sentimental about it. When I've earned enough I'll quit without a tremor. There's no grease-paint in my blood that keeps my heart anchored, as it were, to show-business. "I believe, you see, in separating one's screen and private life. I like to play golf, go to the fights, and hunt in my spare time. Went to Mexico last Thanksgiving and bagged my own turkey. I like good horses and dogs. I got a great kick out of our black cocker-spaniel, 'Scamp,' winning at the dog show in San Francisco." Folks are going to okay any guy who can be so successful and stay so "regular"— any guy, in short, like the nimble Fred Astaire. HOLLYWOOD RACKETS! Have you read "It's a Fake," in this issue? Then you know how thugs hired by racketeers attacked and seriously injured a New Movie writer for his honest and fine attempt to rid Hollywood of its underworld. Defying the racketeers, we are going ahead with our series. Next month we will run an article on these Hollywood grafters which will be as gripping as any mystery or murder story you ever read. And every word of it true! Don't fail to read it in New Movie for June. 46 The New Movie Magazine, May, 1935