Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1919)

io8 Questions and Answers (ContifiuedJ thirty-three or so, I reckon. I never was Rood at figures — fxcept, of course, the zicgfeldiun or mackscnnelt kind. I may say, indeed, that I am at the feet of the class — however, Olive Thomas is the wife of Jack riikfortl, who has two late pictures made tailed "In Wrons" and "Bill Apperson's Boy." Kthel Clayton is the widow of the late Joseph Kaufman, a splendid director who w.is to h.ive conducted his wife through lier Lasky pictures. He directed the fine Lubin domestic dramas in which — this is my ixTsonal opinion — Ethel Clayton did some of her best work. Miss Clayton is on a vacation just now, I think — but she has many new subjects scheduled for release. Among them a picturization of Kathleen Borris' story, "Mother." Is Dick Barthelmess married? NO ! ! ! Bern ICE I., Los Angeles. — Really, is there an organist named C. Sharpe Minor? Subtle, isnt it? I have heard many of "the worlds biggest and finest organs;" they all are. I wish you would write to me again, and at greater length ; for a seventcen-year-older you have a lot of good common sense. Lieut. R. C, New York. — Your writing •was very intelligible; you say you have had to practice writing with your left hand as you lost your right one, — a hand-grenade accident. I wish you would practice on me; your letter was interesting. A good many things have happened in the two years you have been away, kid — Mary Miles Minter L> turned seventeen, the word bolshevik has come to mean anyone who happens to disagree wtih you, and a dozen more stars have joined the M. O. C. movement. Dick Barthelmess is in California at this writing, working at the Griffith studios in a new picture. Story about Dick in this issue; he isn't married. Dorothy Gish is twenty one; she's growing up. I can remember Dorothy when she was just a little girl at Biograph. She and Lillian had a hard lime landing their jobs; everybody thought they were too young. Dorothy and Lillian are both happy though unwed. Barthelmess is American but of French descent. Come again, please. I wish you the best of luck. Bea, O.akland. — The obvious is, of course, how be you? We are always obviou.s; it is so easy to be subtle — nobody ever understands you. So glad you liked the cover of Connie Talmadge, in June. The lovebirds were, indeed, apropos. Constance's latest is "The Temperamental Wife" for First National; John Emerson and Anita Loos wrote it. However, a new Select picture, "Happiness a la Mode'' has been released; it is, I think, her last for this concern. Your art section requests have already been complied with. You'd like to know why they never have blonde lady spies. Don't you know — they have to be kept dark. Your life's-greatest-disappoinlmcnt was when Mary Picford came to your city and you had the 'flu. CONTINUED-IN-OVR-NEXT, SIXTEEN. — So you look like Katherine MacDonald and you may be coming to Chicago and would like to drop in. Come right along, my office door is marked private, but this cioesn't mean you. Bessie Barriscale in "Rose o' Paradise.'' You say you no sooner begin to like a star than they go get a divorce or something. Mother's calling you to mike the frosting on the cake; run along, sweet-sixteen. The Lightning Raider. — This, friends and readprs, is our Mystic Rose in disguise. Dear child — these serials are going to your curly head. You can't get away from them. "What the Movies Did to Me," by the Answer Man, will be the recollections of a crowded life. The grand-cross eyed expressions of a career which was just one reel after another. My impressions of Mary Thurman; how I felt when I first saw Normi Talmadge in the cart in Vitagraph's "Tale of Two Cities" and begged her, piteously, from my silent seat in the orchestra, to hold my hand. I'll wind up with a poem to Phyllis Haver, blonde siren whose moving pictures have given me long-distance heartdisease. Phyllis seems to be the leading cause of crowding the mails right now. If you thought Lillian Gish was good in "Hearts," wait until you see "Broken Blossoms." No — I wont give you any "criticism" on this; read what Mr. Johnson says in "Shadow Stage." Ethel P. R. — You girls make me tired. You don't appreciate an actor's taste in ties; all you care about is how he looks at his leading ladies. Yes indeed; some of our players are two-faced. We only see the side that's turned to the camera. You call the continued pictures "The Modern Arabian Nights." VVell, I admit some of them keep me awake. Robert Anderson is with Universal; at U City. Cal. George Beban has his own company; write to him care this Magazine and we will forward it wherever he happens to be at the time. He's in the East at this writing. Bertha, Bay Gl.vce, N. S. — I have heard of meringue, glace (see above.) What is this new dessert? Little Cutie Beautiful, Clarine Seymour, was born in Brooklyn. She was one of "The Two Strange Women" in the story in the August issue of Photoplay. She isn't married, that I know of. She was a former comedienne for Rolin. All that worries me — is what we'll do when they're all gone. Look at Bebe Daniels deserting me, too, for the (Continued on page 135) Sh e IS no ''Little Ev a 9 9 THAT now redoubtahle emof ionaliste, \I iss Dorothy Phillips, did not, like some of our silver-sheet littlevas, "just grow." Perhaps it is only ingenues of the I' rench-pastry school who can perform that feat and get away with it. Dorothy's littlegirlhood was very real indeed, as we may see from these photographs of her in between ages — left, very early; right, at fifteen.