The New Movie Magazine (Jan-Sep 1935)

John wanted to sing. I went abroad when the run of "Oh Kay!" ended. By the time I returned some time later John Boles had sung (and how ! ) in "The Desert Song." He was an established screen success. I've watched his talking picture career with great interest and at times a certain amount of anxiety. It looked for a while after he had proved he could play a man of any age that he was inevitably to finish each film with white hair crowning a resigned and somewhat beaten brow. Suddenly and unexpectedly, as things are apt to happen in Hollywood, they lifted him from the middle age spread into which they had consistently shoved him with "Back Street," "Seed" and other dramatically depressing epics. Presto change! And in "My Lips Betray" we had again the Boles of "Rio Rita." I sighed happily as it seemed that we were to have the charming, debonair, singing Boles and then, doggone it, if they didn't drag him back to support "Vergie Winters" through that life of hers. Again with "Music in the Air" we had music in the heart but I wish some one would make up some one's mind and quit making him the Jekyll and Hyde of the studios. If he must grow old in films why not let him sing his way to age? A lot of good singers have done it in real life. For his radio broadcast he played "Daddy Long Legs" and he was fine. I watched the rehearsal from the "control room," waiting for Daddy to burst into interpolated song, but no such luck. Daddy was splendid as he played his scenes with Helen Chandler. who was delightful in the role which Ruth Chatterton originated on the stage. Daddy was quite at ease and not in the least mike shy. He takes radio just as he must take whatever he wants, with the utmost ease, but in this case "without a song." When I questioned him after rehearsal about his not singing, he grinned, and grin is just what he does. A smile is an inadequate description of what happens on that map of Texas when Boles is amused. "That's the idea," he said. "They'll expect me to sing, and if they want me to, and I get enough letters asking me to, maybe I'll come back again." Good sound logic. Another surprising quality to find lurking above a perfect profile. He was half kidding, because he added seriously, "I would like to sing really, but after all, the sponsor is the boss." He didn't sing on the other broadcast either. He acted a radio version of "Seventh Heaven." Well, when he does send a song out pver the ether waves he may find himself adding another career to his collection. Meanwhile, personal appearances in the picture theaters are occupying his time between films. I think they may sound the knell of those "more to be pitied than scorned" heroes he has played. If enough people see John Boles in person they won't stand for his appearing as a meandering middle aged husband whose wife doesn't understand him. He is much better looking off than on the screen, due to coloring. I can't say he is rosy cheeked; he'd sue me. I don't dare say ruddy complexioned ; it sounds too weatherbeaten, but I can say that the only white one is conscious of is around the blue of the eyes and spreading practically across the face when he grins. Maybe I might risk saying he looks in the pink of condition, even if I never have quite known what that expression means. "How do you keep so fit?" I asked looking at his "tinge." "Don't think it's easy," said John, a bit wistfully. "I have to take mighty good care of myself. I can't dissipate at all, honest I can't." I don't know why the reassurance, unless I was looking as sympathetic as I felt. "I exercise a lot," he added. "You know I'm no kid." I couldn't help thinking how much better he looks than most of the kids and how swell it is to be in the very early thirties with such a jigsaw puzzle of experiences behind one and such a variety of paths ahead. I didn't ask him what his ambition is. I have a feeling he doesn't dally with daydreams of the future, but deals directly with the current objective. Nice man. Plain John Boles. Most decidedly I resent those five wasted years. Would you all mind writing him letters that you want to hear him sing on the air? I would like to be sure that he will come back to Radio City. SPARKLING, ENTERTAINING ISSUES COMING A great many splendid stories and features are planned for your pleasure in the forthcoming issues of NEW MOVIE. You won't miss any of them if you have the year's subscription which the coupon below will bring. A year's subscription in the United States is $1.00. In Canada, $1.60. Foreign, $2.00. New Movie Magazine, 55 Fifth Avenue, New York City Please send me NEW MOViE for one year for which I enclose (check or money order) Begin my subscription with the Name . Address. City .State "Look what I found! Contraption with a looking glass! (I'm looking very well today.) . . . And what's this? Powder! Oh, I know what to do with that! . . . Put it under my chin and arms and where I sit down!" "J knew if I kept my eye on this thing Aunt Patty would leave it around some time where I could get it! Let's see — what does she do to this dingleberry on top to make it come open? Ah . . . that's the trick!" "Hi, Aunt Pat! I tried your powder. . . but honest, it doesn't feel near as soft and fine and snuggly as mine. You ought to use Johnson's Baby Powder, Auntie . . . and then I'll bet you'd be a smoothie just like me!" "Johnson's Baby Powder. . . at your baby's service! I'm comforting and soothing — a real protection against chafing and rashes. Your thumb and finger will tell you why. . . I'm made of fine satiny Italian talc — no gritty particles as in some powders. No zinc stearate or orris-root either . . . Be sure to try Johnson's Baby Soap and Baby Cream too!" The New Movie Magazine, May, 1935 57