The New Movie Magazine (Jan-Sep 1935)

JOAN, the youngest of the beauteous Bennett sisters, got off to a slow start in the "Success Sweepstakes." In fact, she refused to run. More lovely to look at than the dynamic Constance or the now sophisticated Barbara, Joan balked at the barrier of opportunity. The race for fame in which all three Bennett Babies were natural entries due to breeding did not interest Baby Joan. She went cantering off into the field of matrimony long before she had finished her schooling. She won the highest honor to be won in that barb-wired field. She had a baby all her own before she was eighteen. I say all her own advisedly because, when she emerged from her experience as a schoolgirl bride, sadder, wiser, but not complaining, Joan had her little girl baby with her. She had kept her close through struggles and the usual "in-law" arguments which invariably follow youthful mismarriages. Joan's devotion to her child probably was a handicap many times but it's all forgotten now. We see the lovely "dark horse" coming down the stretch in full stride. From now on watch Joan Bennett. It's not very hard on the eyes. It's a great kick for me to write about this youngest Bennett whom I used to see toddling along beside her proud papa, Richard Bennett — I had a terriffic crush on Dick when I was about seventeen. A crush that I shared with practically every girl who saw him on the stage in those days. I remember Constance and Barbara well also, but it is the tiny blonde one who looms most clearly through my screen of retrospection. I can see her now. So small, so exquisite and possessing a real manner. Last week I was quite worried over whom to write about next for New Movie when suddenly out of the blue in a transcontinental plane Joan Bennett arrived. Cheers! Then action on my part. I had to do a bit of sleuthing to find her, but knowing that if there are two Bennetts in town they will be together (scrapping perhaps, but together) I had my "lead" as we sleuths say. Sister Barbara, as you probably know, is married to Morton Downey, radio ace. I called his secretary, told her of the designs I had upon her boss's sister-in-law. She kindly gave me the lowdown on Joan's hideout, which happened to be high up in the Sherry-Netherland Hotel. No difficulty in contacting the Baby Bennett. We argued a little about who would lunch with whom. "Where do you want to lunch?" Joan said briskly. She sounded very peppy. Ah, ha! "On the loose," away from babies, husband and work. "I'll come to your hotel and we will decide," I said, beginning to feel slightly "on the loosey" myself. We set the day for lunch. The night before its arrival I received a message. Would I please meet Miss Bennett at the Colony Restaurant next day at one? Of course I told the maid I would, but to myself I said, "Darn it! She is probably going to ask others to join us and why the Colony? The smartest place in town THE Dark Horse Bl d is a oionae Joan Bennett has let Constance outshine her because she's more interested in her family. But, from now on, watch out I So says New Movie's ELSIE JANIS and I haven't even taken time to buy that new suit. Well, I brushed off the favorite little black and white checked number, and dashed to the Colony at the hour appointed and right into about the most enjoyable, amusing and enlightening tete-a-tete I've evef seen. It must be admitted that the element of surprise played a large part in my joy. Surprise at finding her alone. Surprise at finding myself with her in the type of restaurant I used to haunt when in the public eye and now rarely enter. Surprise at seeing the same old crowd of celebrity chasers still going strong. Their surprise at seeing me when they stopped to greet Joan. Surprise at seeing her charmingly and coolly scrutinize the "table traffic jammers" through those bone rimmed specs that she needs for perfect seeing and in which she manages to look not only pretty, but very intriguing. And best of all, verification of my suspicion that Joan Bennett is a most unusual combination — beauty, brains, humor and heart. That she has beauty I don't think anyone will deny, even though her blondly delicate type may not appeal to all. Brains she must have, being the daughter of Richard Bennett and Adrienne Morrison. Humor, I take the liberty of using my own judgment and saying that she has it — and plenty. Heart, just how expansive it is toward the world in general I don't know, but certainly for those she loves, her family and friends, it is seemingly large and talkative. We lunched from one until after three and outside of a few little snacks of gossip our conversation was entirely about those whom she loves. One in particular, her husband, Gene Markey. My friend of many, years standing, sitting, loitering and collaborating on short stories. It was when they married that I became suspicious of the Baby Bennett having a lot of what it takes to charm and fascinate, because Gene was probably the busiest bachelor who ever ducked a marriage license. If I gave a list of the fascinating gals with whom Mr. Markey used to be seen about, in New York, London, Paris, his home town, Chicago, and Hollywood — yes, decidedly Hollywood — you would suspect me of quoting from "Who's Who" in charm. It was one of many old friends who smiled tolerantly when he married and said "Joan Bennett! Yes, she's very sweet, but for Gene? He's so smart, so clever, such a brilliant writer, I don't see how— Of course we couldn't see that if he were all of those things he might have sense enough to find the right girl, but he fooled us. Now he is "Daddy" Markey and unless Joan was kidding me she is going to be "Mama" Markey for a long time. I wouldn't even mind if she was kidding me, because it was so pleasant. I'll give you the dialogue, see what you think: Janis — Are you having fun here? Joan — It's marvelous! I haven't stopped a minute since I got here. (Please turn to page 47) The New Movie Magazine, August, 1935 21