Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1927)

I IO Photoplay Magazine — Advertising Section This is the seal adopted by the (greeting Card Association The members comprising the Association seek to employ the best artists, the best writers, the best minds to create their product, so as to enable you truly to scatter sunshine with Greeting Cards. Perhaps not every merchant who sells cards manufactured by the members of the Greeting Card Association will display this Seal, but wherever it is shown you will find a complete assortment of Greeting Cards for all occasions — cards to meet social obligations promptly — cards to keep friendships warm. Scatter Sunshine icitk ureetinq Cards Smoking hot drama, directed by Henry King, for "The Magic Scene." Ronald Colman, with the monocle, is getting tips on how to keep Shirley Palmer from walking out, out into the night CENTRAL Casting Bureau, which places all the extra people, sends out this statistical note. In the past fourteen months, it has taken in, for extra players' salaries, three and a half million dollars. This sum was paid by the studios, through Central, to nearly 400,000 people who make up the crowds when Knockout Reilly swings a wicked left or Red has only a minute to play. Before Central was organized by the Hays office, small casting offices got ten per cent of the extras' meager wages. Central takes no commission. In other words, these fourteen months, the bearded boys and blondined girls got $350,000 between them, they wouldn't have had otherwise. And when you figure that out into shoes, and stockings, to say nothing of pork and beans, it does justify Central's existence pretty thoroughly. HAROLD LLOYD, Mildred Lloyd and young Gloria are recovering from pleurisy. . . . Charles Farrell fell off a horse and smashed his right foot. . . . Al St. Johns bought a $90,000 home. . . . Adolphe Menjou says he is going to join United Artists. . . . Henri de la Falaise is going to Europe soon. . . . Pola Negri has gone back to Hollywood. . . . Ben Lyon is in New York and very lonely, but he's sailing for Paris. CLEVER patter from first night stages if you will list to the chirp of Marceline Day, darling of "Rookies," who stepped upon the Million Dollar Theater stage and bowed. Silently she bowed again. "Say something." prompted Al Boasberg, master of ceremonies. Marceline tip-toed to him and whispered in his ear. "She says," repeated Al, impressively, after a moment's thought, "that the 'phone number is Granite 8651." Followed Lincoln Stedman: "When I entered the theater two people knew what I was going to sa\ — God and myself. Now only one knows and that one is not me." A lariat of applause drew him back. Line smiled and was silent, but only for a moment. He winked, broadly. "That number Marceline Day gave you? Well, it's wrong." WHERE to park little Ophelia? That is the question. Or perhaps you don't have a monkey in your home. That is a different matter. Jack Barrymore solved the problem for us. On the outside of one of the deep-alcoved windows of his dressing room is constructed a little wooden cage, five feet high, two feet broad, in which his little simian playmate frolics. IT'S all settled now and scandal is averted. Patsy, the Pekinese pup belonging to Estelle Taylor, was gone for a whole day. Spud, Ray Griffith's canine, was also missing. Marriage license bureaus were watched. Roads guarded. No trace of the missing couple. Lassie, the wire-haired terrier belonging to Marie Prevost, told reporters she thought Spud was a "delicious sap." At tea-time Patsy returned, insouciant as ever. She had been to the beauticians having a finger wave. And there goes a swell tale. HOWARD GREER, who makes those lovely, slithery, star-dusty costumes that you see glide by on the screen, has been wooed into the marts of commerce. Backed by a number of prominent persons, including Florine Williams, widow of Earle Williams; Ed King of F. B. O., and others, he is to have an ultra-smart shop opposite the Hollywood Athletic Club where imported mannequins will strut his personally designed gowns. DON'T pity the poor plasterers on a day like this. Not when Eddie Carewe and Dolores del Rio are each building $250,000 homes. Dolores' will be an exact replica of her Mexico City Every advertisement in rTTivrori.AY MAGAZINE Is guaranteed.