Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1931)

The Unknown Hollywood I K now Part Three Filmdom's sinister underworld . . . Cecil B. De Mille's pose . . . what Mary Pickford's mother thought about her daughter . . . and a lot more inside stuff This coy damsel in natty shepherd's plaid suit (how about it, Seymour?) is the author as a comedy queen HOLLYWOOD, in those days, had a back door which was mean and ugly. Through it there came, in the night, dark and sinister figures — fantastic shapes with furtive movements, sharp eager eyes and shifting hands ready to pounce upon foolish girls who wanted to become actresses. They played upon ambition. In the last two chapters of this story I've told you of the brighter side of Hollywood, the gay days at the Griffith and Metro studios. I was soon to discover the ominous underworld that operated on the small side streets of the little town. The place was covered by a hord of Detty racketeers as a democratic convention is covered by reporters. Anybody can buy an ad in a newspaper. It was through these columns that the tawdry underworld sent out its slimy octopuslike feelers. The legends read, "Big opportunities in show business and movies for ambitious girls — very little experience necessary!" It sounded great. HOW many stupid girls answered these calls I don't know. The returns must have been tremendous. My first experience was fairly typical of them all. The address given was a shabby office approached by rickety stairs. I discovered two tobaccosmoke laden rooms in one of which sat a sleazy girl making a few false gestures on a decrepit typewriter. A greasy lock of hair hung across her forehead and her lips were scarlet. I told her I'd come in answer to the advertisement. By Katherine Albert She murmured "uh-huh" and disappeared into the other room to which, shortly, the door was opened and a lean man with deep wrinkles cut into his cheeks appeared. His mouth was curled into a smile but his eyes, as they met mine directly, were humorless. I was stupid enough to believe that honest men were those who looked you square in the eye. I've since learned that this is the trick of the crook. I've never known a first class confidence man who did not give you a direct, straight-forward gaze. He motioned me in — the girl had left through some outer door — and offered me a seat across from the mean, littered desk. SO, you'i you?" he "Jack has caused me heartaches. Mary hasn't !" Thus spoke Mrs. Pickford — that amazing human dynamo who made movie history. Here she is with her children many years before her death re an actress, are le began, rubbing one jeweled hand over the other. "Yes, I suppose I am," I said, "I've been at the Griffith studio and I've just finished a part at Metro in 'The Saphead.' " His lips drew back from his broken teeth. "Ah, you know Griffith, then?" I nodded. "But he's in New York now," I said. "Who directed this 'Saphead'?" "Herbert Blache and Winchell Smith." He leaned back and tapped his teeth with an unkempt forefinger. "I 've a great proposition for some bright girl — like yourself, for instance." He leaned forward. "My partner and I are starting a motion picture company. We've a great story and it will put some girl right on the top of the heap. But what we need is a great director. Now you've been in Hollywood long enough to know that the personal contact is what counts and if you're to play the starring role in the picture ..." I interrupted. "Oh, I couldn't