The New Movie Magazine (Jan-Sep 1935)

WHO Pat O'Brien is one of the most popular men in the movies — but you could never get him to admit it By KATHERINE HARTLEY You'll remember Pat in this pose from "Devil Dogs of the Air." His latest picture is "The Irish in Us," with his side-kick, James Cagney. TOO often, in Hollywood, we who are close to the business are liable to overlook something that is right under our nose. And especially when that something is somebody's popularity. Surely we know that Clark Gable is the first male box-office draw, and that Mae West is first among the women. We even know who is second and third on those two lists. But we are usually so blinded by the records of those first few that we often forget the rest. We really have to go outside of Hollywood to discover which other stars are also favorites. And when I did that recently, I made a discovery which rather startled me. Naturally a movie magazine writer can't go anywhere among non-movie people without being asked countless questions about Hollywood, about its people . . . and without being involved in discussions of "who is your favorite actor or actress." Usually those discussions turn into arguments, and seldom does anyone agree with anyone else. Except when a certain man's name is brought up — and I have never heard anyone say he didn't like him. Quite the contrary. Countless men have told me that he was their favorite actor. They even agreed with their wives when they said that he was also theirs. And as for the children . . . well, they think he's just about 100 per cent plus. That man is Pat O'Brien. NOW to be perfectly frank, I had never met Pat. I had never even thought of wanting to write a story about him. I had heard Jimmie Cagney say that he was one of the grandest guys that ever lived. I had listened to little Cora Sue Collins rave about the man that she so affectionately calls "Uncle Pat." I had heard no less than three very temperamental women stars say that he was one man they could work with without any trouble. I had seen and heard everyone on the Warner lot, from prop boys to producers, hail him with the most cordial greetings. I have always thought his performances on the screen were excellent. But beyond that I had no further interest or curiosity until I had heard so many movie fans say he was their favorite actor that — well, that something had to be done about it. That something started with lunch. I hope I'm not disappointing you when I say that I was not "struck" by any particular quality or mannerisms at first. By that I mean I can't say that he breezed into the room like Lee Tracy, or that he was colorful like Lederer, or dynamic like Muni, or riproaring-amusing like Bob Montgomery, or elegant and charming like Herbert Marshall — or any of those things that one looks for and expects in a movie star. He was just a regular fellow like — yes, like Pat O'Brien. I was a bit taken aback. I didn't know how to proceed. He was wearing a suede wind-breaker with the insignia of the marine air corps on it, and corduroy trousers. His hair was combed, but not too obviously so. He wore no make-up. He looked exactly like the part he played in "Devil Dogs of the Air." You wouldn't think of asking a navy pilot what his favorite colors or breakfast foods are, or about the big romance in his life. I couldn't think of asking Pat any of these things either. If he wanted to "give" and "tell all" that was all right. He'd have to begin. He was too normal and nice-looking for me to pry into. He did begin. "You know, I was in the navy myself once, when I was seventeen. Spencer Tracy and I were kids together in Milwaukee, and we both ran away at the same time to join up. But do you know that all the time I was in the navy I never saw the ocean. I never even set foot on a battleship until we did 'Here Comes the Navy.' Can you tie that? Having to get into the movies to see what the navy was all about! It sure is a funny world. Spence and I didn't stay in the navy very long ... we were too young ... we were restless. We finally got out and went back to school. I went to Marquette University and Spence had to go somewhere else. But that didn't last very long either. You see the whole truth of the matter is that we were both stage-struck . . . had been ever since we were kids. Don't ask me why an Irishman like me who would have made a swell policeman should have been stage-struck, 'cause I don't know. I only know that the greatest day in the year to me was Saint Patrick's Day, {Please turn to page 46) The New Movie Mdgazine, August, 1935 19