The New Movie Magazine (Jan-Sep 1935)

WHY THE STARS CANT STAY MARRIED The question you have long asked yourself, answered by a wise psychologist who is not afraid to speak out THE stars are intelligent people; they possess good manners and social poise; they know how to dress and appear attractive; their physical allure is decidedly greater than average; they are as human as anyone else and they crave love, a home and babies the same as the rest of us. Indeed, it is surprising how downright domestic in tastes and inclinations the film colony, as a class, really is. Yet, these self-same movie actors, women as well as men, seem somehow unable to keep themselves married either for long or happily! There is June Knight, for instance, who separated from her husband after being married five days! As if not satisfied with this record, said June began a suit for divorce thirteen days later and exactly thirty days after she had stepped up to the altar the young woman once more was free! JEAN HARLOW also may be placed in the record group, although in her case the record concerns numbers rather than speed. So far, Jean has had three husbands, to wit: Charles McGrew, Paul Bern and Hal Rosson. Rumor has it that she is now going places with William Powell. Whether true or not, whether Powell will be husband number four or not, surely it is difficult to conceive that so enticing a lady will not try again. And then, of course, there is Gloria Swanson. How many husbands will she, eventually, have had? The most shocking divorce in all the annals of filmdom has been that of "America's Sweetheart" (Mary Pickford) from Douglas Fairbanks. That marriage was supposed to be the acme of lasting love. It was customary to point to it as a model for us all. But now! Not to mention Fairbanks' All day long the stars are exposed to makebelieve love before the cameras. And in the hectic social whirl of Hollywood they are in contact with other stars chosen, like themselves for their tremendous attractiveness. Is it because of these conditions that their own marriages begin to lose glamour by comparison? 16 By LOUIS E. BISCH, M. D., Ph. D. son and Joan Crawford, Richard Dix and Winifred Coe, Ruth Chatterton and George Brent, Nick Stuart and Sue Carol, Ann Harding and Harry Bannister, Hoot Gibson and Sally Eilers, William Powell and Carole Lombard. And, of course, I have far from exhausted the list. WHAT makes these actor folk behave that way? Why can't they settle down like other people? What makes them so restless and dissatisfied when it comes to love? Are they essentially different? If so, what is it and why? Psychology has an answer for these perplexing questions. The science that deals with the workings of the mind and the emotions knows exactly why actors should present the apparent contradiction of being specialists in love on the screen, of being expert in studying human feeling and interpreting it in story after story for years on end, then failing so miserably in 'their love lives where their own private experiences are concerned. Nor are the mechanisms of the mind that are involved difficult to understand. FIRST of all, let us consider of what the actor's daily work really consists. At once such descriptive terms as pretense and make-believe suggest themselves. Yes, the actor's work is just that. From morning until night, whether on or off the lot, the actor is not himself or herself, as the case may be, but somebody else! In one picture the star may be an innocent, demure, unsophisticated youngster who is taken advantage of by a designing villain. In a second, the role to be portrayed may be completely different — this time, that of a calculating, golddigging vamp; in a third production the part may call for an interpretation of a misunderstood wife. One might assume that actors would rebel at such frequent changes. As a matter of fact, what they continually rebel against is quite the opposite. They hate being considered "naturals" and forever do they fight against being cast for the same sort of part again and again. Always do they want to be "somebody else." The reason for this attitude is, however, not far to seek. After all, none of us goes in for any kind of work and remains content at it unless one's innate nature is "gaited" for it. To be sure, many of the jobs we take on are secured through chance circumstance. Whether we are happy and succeed in such work is quite another matter. We only remain happy and succeed, really, when the work harmonizes with the deeper and more fundamental strivings of our character make-up. WITH the acting profession this is particularly true. The real actor reveals the earmarks of his destiny even as a child. Such a little girl or boy already "struts his stuff" when six or seven. In such children the impulse to imitate people seen and read about and to "dress up" and give a show is decidedly more pronounced than in their playmates. By the age of sixteen, of course, the impulse to go on the stage is already irresistible and bears all the earmarks of an obsession. "Once an actor always an actor," declared a screen star friend of mine recently. I understood what he meant. Acting is an occupation that tends to unfit the participant for anything else! Therefore — and now we will see the link that exists between what I said and the fact that all kinds of actors make poor marriage risks — actors not only make believe and are somebody else when working in the studio, they tend to be like that all the time, off as well as on the lot, simply because they have almost been {Please turn to page 42) The New Movie Magazine, June, 1935