Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1931)

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Canadian Agents, Lyman Agencies, Limited, Montreal p**+++f+*++*r+>+r++>*w++f++w**»++i MELLO-GLO COMPANY (Dept 61 ) Sutler Bids., Boston. Mass. Please Find 10 cents enclosed. Send me sample of MELLO-GLO Face Powder. Name , a swimming pool can be built. They'll have the swimming pool, I'm sure. "And yet, I'm delighted to do all these things. I'm trying desperately to make up to Mark for not having a father. He misses that. The other boys at school talk of their fathers, and I can see it hurts him. What's the answer to that? Marriage may be finished in this age —but what of children? I know a woman writer who is unmarried and has a child whenever she wants one. But isn't that a little unfair to the child? " T WANT to adopt a girl. It's for selfish reaJl sons, I know. I want to have her as a companion, and because I adore children. She might grow up and run away with the plumber. But she'll have to do what she wants to do. I believe in letting every person lead her own life. "With the change that has come over this generation men no longer need to marry, and the women in whom they are interested are the clever professional women. But something happens to a man when he does not support his wife. He may be as modern as his wife, conversationally; he may promise all sorts of things, but the fact that she earns more than he does, or becomes famous, begins to eat into his mind, and the marriage ends. "I sometimes think that the best solution is for people to marry young and grow up together— never having known the outside world. I seldom talk of my own marriage, because my ex-husband has a wife now and it isn't fair for me to talk. But the reason we went on the rocks was simply because we both came from families that were quite comfortably well off, and we could not cope with the poverty in which we discovered ourselves after our marriage. It was not because we were young that it ended. " When I was writing ' Ex-wife' I was in love. That was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. The man was a distinguished, important figure, but his line of work brought him no fame. It was the notoriety that I received from my books, my career, that separated us. "Man's instincts remain the same. "And I'm sure I do not know the answer to any of this. I'm sure I cannot tell whether the professional woman is happier than the wife or less so. But of one thing I'm sure — if we are able to make anything out of our mad era we must face the facts as we see them and piece out the salvation of our individual existence." Address. Kindly write here name of your Favorite store: Dolores vs. the Jinx [ CONTINUED FROM PAGE 69 "The Bad One," was an indifferent success at the box-office, but who could still demand the appalling sum of $9,000 — and the right to "The Dove," a film unsuited to any of their contract people. It is my personal opinion, whatever that amounts to, that Sam will be smiling on the other side of his face. I may be as wet as the King business, but I believe that Dolores Del Rio is due for a big comeback. And I'll get to my reasons for this in a minute. A glowering jinx has hounded the footsteps of Dolores. Her life has been one cataclysmic adventure after another, but somehow or other she has managed to come up, if not exactly smiling, at least on top. It is necessary to go back a little to realize the terrific force of this woman, still in her early twenties, who has lived enough to be a hundred. YOU know her story, of course, that she was born of patrician ancestors, daughter of a wealthy banker and that her marriage to Jaime Del Rio was a marriage of convenience, uniting the two most important families in Mexico. There have been rumors, emanating mostly from Hollywood's Mexican Colony, that while Dolores came of good middle class business stock, her family tree had not so many branches, leafy with importance, as Jaime's and that her family jumped, like Mexican beans, at the chance of having a daughter of theirs married to one of the great Del Rios. It has even been hinted that there was Indian blood on the mother's side. Nothing short of a trip to Mexico would prove these things, and it would be a worthless journey, since it doesn't really matter. The important fact is that at the age of fifteen she was married to a wealthy, patrician, proud bachelor ten years her senior, who was completely fascinated by the beauty of this convent bred girl. At fifteen, Dolores found herself on a honeymoon trip in Europe, living the gay life of the Continent, being presented at the Court of Alphonso XIII of Spain and having a Paris gown named after her. There is no doubt that Jaime Del Rio exploited the beauty and charm of his young wife in Europe just as Edwin Carewe exploited his talented new-found star in Hollywood some years later. That was a tragic marriage — the older man, the utterly innocent child — and it is no wonder that the constant parade of her beauty, like a model in a show window, was bitter to Dolores. That avid, dark beauty, those luminous eyes, mystic and sombre; Dolores, mother of pain — oh, she was born under an ill-fated star, a star of suffering. Dolores says that Jaime did not want her to accept the offer Carewe made her in Mexico to come to Hollywood. Others maintain that Jaime, ever delighted with his prize, saw another chance to show the world the young thing he had captured. At any rate, they came and Dolores then was as fresh as a dewy morning, a gay little package done up in bright enthusiastic ribbons. Everything in Hollywood entranced her. Speaking no English, she was delighted that Jaime acted as her interpreter on the set. It was all new and lovely to her and then she began to make a success, and you know that sordid story. You know the story of a proud man finding himself becoming the husband of a picture star and the story of a young girl who had been the beautiful wife of a wealthy and influential citizen becoming the important member of the family. There were violent quarrels between them and neither was at fault. Circumstance was the apex of the triangle and the villain in the piece. Dolores Del Rio had never loved her husband except as a girl would love an important, charming older man. By the same token, she never loved Edwin Carewe except for releasing her from the boredom of her life in Mexico City and giving her a vital place in an active and passionate world. But when Jaime Del Rio died in Europe alone with the name of his ex-wife, Dolores, upon his lips, it was duck soup for the saccharine typewriters of the sob sisters. THE motion picture public had approved of the spritely young patrician from Mexico, a society belle bored with cocktail parties and polo, who wanted to make a name for herself. But certainly it would not have approved of what it thought was a heartless wife who put her fame before love and allowed her husband to die of a broken heart. Perhaps that's what Jaime died of — but it was circumstance and not Dolores who caused it. After his death, Dolores led her own life. She was free of all authority, and her beaux were as numerous as inconsistencies in the Wickersham report. She was rumored engaged to a number of different men. She was called a ruthless heartbreaker. And then she J