Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1919)

46 Photoplay Magazine hazy sort of early impression that the government would doubtless take a lot of film on the battle lines and that it would get distribution to the public through the regular channels and the theaters somehow. And that's exactly how such pictures as the government made did get to the public— just somehow. The first thing that resembled an arrangement was to the general effect that the Signal Corps of the U. S. army would take the motion pictures and that through the American Red Cr(>>s they would be sold or distributed to the picture concerns in the business of disseminating news through the medium of lilms. The expeditionary force was to send films to Washington and Washington was to look them over, censor and ship to the Red Cross in New York. The Red Cross was to have the profits. It was a day of vast patriotism and no one ventured to object officially and audibly to making contributions to .the Red Cross with government films as a pretext. A working arrangement of the kind began and for a number of weeks it began to look like the public would get a line of (Continued on page 121) TO begin with, Tm a self-made monkey. I have risen out of the trees entirely through my own efforts, to the position I occupy to-day: that of the only chimpanzee in pictures with a star'> dressing-room. And yet — well, you can't tell ME real ability is appreciated. Maybe it's because I came from Madagascar; although there has been a story out about me that I am an American-born chimp) — jrom the Bronx Zoo. This is one of the worst libels that has e\er been printed about any star, and I wish to refute it right away. Why, I e\en have a recollection of swinging from tree to tree in the Matlagascar jungle. In' my tail; and chasing the little monkeys up and down the cocoanut grove. I always was so playful. But this idyllic existence didn't last long; certain family affairs were not of the best and I soon found it expedient to hop away from home and make my own way in the world. Ah — and I have succeeded. I suppose; but often, while the camera is grinding and the director yelling "Shoot!"' I find myself, in fancy, back in dear old Madagascar, among the little monkeys and the high-hanging palms. .As I said. I made up my mind to run away; so I curled my tail around a cocoanut and beat it. I got to the seacoast; and there my aihentures began. Some r|ueer creatures — I did not know then that they were men, supposing them to be another species of monkey — although I thought I knew all the monkey* in Madagascar — saw me, and seized me; and carried me off in a boat. The next thing I knew I was behind the bars: I was in a circus. But it was no picnic. .•\s I often tell the children now. the life may seem gay and carefree, it may look attractive from the outside looking in, but the bars are in reality \ery, very hard; and it is no fun at all doing exercises on those iron rings. Too. people come and stare, and throw peanuts that are so stale you cannot possibly munch them. Those vulgar crowds are the worst feature.' I don't mind telling you that that was why. the real reason why I went into pictures. (I hate peanuts. I have never confessed this before; but it is true. I hope some day to be able to do something for the poor monkeys who must eat the peanuts thrown at them.) I may be a chimp but I'm no chump. It's a shame the way they treat us monkeys. We are not half so funny as they are. We wonJor how much Tarzan's papa, Edgar Rice Burroughs, really knew about the habits of apes? AccorJing to Edgar, Tarzan, a baby abandoned in a jungle, was reared by a motherly old lady monkey. Yet in real life Joe Martin loses no time in swiping the baby's bottle. Joe Martin Says: "Now that I have quit all monkeybusiness and am a real actor, it's time to chatter about myself. So — " I "got there" solely by my own ability, as I told you before. A film man came to look over the chimps. He immediately selected me; I went out to Universal City and have been there ever since. At first I played extras; but my size was such that I did not remain long in obscurity. I began to get better parts — whenever they would try to make me do atmosphere I'd grin at 'em and they soon changed their minds — until now I am leading man for such serial stars as Marie Walcamp. Sometimes I am loaned to other companies for $100 a day; Universal values me at $10,000 — or maybe it is $7,000. I think the importance of money is grossly overestimated. Marie and I are great pals around the studio. She comes to see me every day. Anyone else on the lot might not like the way I steal her scenes but Marie is a real artist and never says anything. Several times I have been directed to pull her about by the hair — for the film, you know. Other actresses might lose their tempers, not to mention their wigs, but not Marie. I get on all right with kids, kittens and baby lions. I take a fatherly interest in the cats and cubs; while I would rather play with Cutie than anyone in pictures excepting Marie Walcamp. Cutie is just a little girl — one year old. The other day they wanted me to take Cutie and carr>' her into a house and set fire to it. Then I got temperamental. "No," I said, "I won't burn Cutie, not even with smoke-pot fire." They all got around me and chattered like monkeys at the Zoo; I tried to argue with them but couldn't get in a word edgewise, and finally gave it up. I didn't want to spoil the picture; besides, it didn't hurt the kid. A reporter from Photoplay was in to see me the other day. I offered him a cigar and he said, "What is your opinion of the Darwinian theor>-?" "Who is he — an actor or a director?" I asked. The reporter spluttered, seemingly unable to answer. I guess my brand of cigar is too strong for him. In conclusion I should like to remark upon "Tarzan of the Apes." I have not read the storj' but I have met Mr. Elmo Lincoln, who portrays Tarzan; and I must say he is a most personable man — when he is dressed up. Perhaps I am not, after all, competent to judge the character; for I did not see any ape-men in the jungles back in Madagascar.