Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1931)

Here he is! Cecil B. De Mille in his old office. Here it was he surrounded himself with the pomp and ceremony befitting one of the world's greatest personal showmen. He terrified young actresses by having them walk the length of floor to his desk. All a trick! where the head designer, Claire West, told me it would be better if I saw De Mille in evening clothes. She proceeded to have brought in the most amazing assortment of gowns I've ever seen. It was a dress that Gloria Swanson had worn in one of the director's so-called society epics that Miss West at last chose — a thing of heavy silver cloth trimmed with ropes of beads and hanging fringe. It had a long train but no back at all. I was helped into this dress feeling pretty doggone silly about the whole affair. There is nothing that makes you feel quite so absurd as the wearing of evening clothes in the broad daylight. The gown hung on me. My unformed shoulders were but barely able to hold the weight of all those beads. Young and silly as I was, I realized it was a mistake and would rather have seen the director in my comfortable street clothes in which I felt at ease. But Miss West assured me that De Mille enjoyed interviewing embryonic actresses in decolletage. Mine not to reason the why of a god. We trailed into the outer De Mille office. We waited the proper number of minutes and then, at last, word came from on high that I was to be admitted into The Presence. I had expected that Miss West [ please turn to page 104 ] play a starring role yet. I haven't had enough experience." His mouth smiled and his hand waved aside my protest. "Nonsense. Why, I can tell by looking at you that you were born to act. You'll be a great little actress with the proper director. Sure, you can play the star part. You've possibilities — ■ wonderful! But you'll need a director you understand and who understands you. I want you to pick your own director. The Blache who directed this 'Saphead' — he sounds okay. So here's what you're to do. Get to know him socially — see him a lot and ..." Amazed, I listened to the tale unfold. After the clumsy beginning the real idea began to seep through. It was one of the oldest rackets in the world — the oldest blackmailing stunt. I was to compromise a director and my benefactor was to rush in to act as my champion, accusing the director of making advances to an innocent girl who had come to him on a business matter. The director would, rather than be subjected to the scandal which the racketeer threatened, settle for money. Simple, easy, direct. By using a young, naive girl the director would be taken off his guard and more easily victimized. I FLED from the office as quickly as I could. But there were other girls who remained to play his game and many important directors and executives have been duped in just this fashion. A few days later — through a friend of my mother's — I secured an interview with Cecil De Mille, and that remains one of the most fantastic experiences of them all. De Mille was, at the time, at the peak of his bathroom career and, if that be possible, a greater poseur than he is today. He guided the figments of his imagination through impossible antics at the old Paramount studios, that low rambling green building on Vine Street that has now passed into the limbo of forgotten things but which once so proudly boasted Wally Reid, Bebe Daniels, Elliott Dexter, Gloria Swanson and little Lila Lee. De Mille was, then, preparing to film "Fool's Paradise" with Dorothy Dalton, Conrad Nagel and Mildred Harris. I came to the studio dressed in my ordinary street clothes but I was whisked immediately to the wardrobe department Ten years ago Mary Miles Minter, although a "snooty" kid was a beautiful one. She assumed an attitude of boredom at parties Now, retired from films, this is the way Mary looks. Note the extra poundage. What! No diets, Mary? 73