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JANUARY, 1932
Close-Ups and Long-Shots
By James R. Quirk
I HAVE always admired Gloria Swanson. She is one of the most courageous women I have ever known in a business where courage is as necessary as beauty and artistry. She has had to fight every inch of the way to her present high place in pictures.
But there has always seemed to be something pathetic about courageous, little five foot and one-half inch Gloria. And never more pathetic than as she sails from San Francisco to France alone with her Michael, the handsome "playboy" of London and Paris.
Walter Winchell (need we any longer say "New York columnist"?) has said that Gloria is "lullaby shopping." The queens of the cinema have about as much privacy as the few remaining queens of Europe.
When Gloria comes back to Hollywood there may be another heir apparent to the throne of that mythical kingdom of Cinemondia.
Good luck, Gloria.
HERE is something that none of our Hollywood writers have reported yet — the fad of the black wedding ring. A New York society divorcee started it. A mourning ring for a dead romance. Hollywood press-agents, please copy.
DURING the making of "The Champ," Jackie Cooper was having one of his off-days. He just would not cry. Director King Yidor was desperate. He pleaded with his young star, but all his cajolery was futile. The tears would not come.
" I'm trying," said the little fellow, "but I don't feel like crying. I'm sorry, Mr. Yidor."
"I give up," said King. "Red, see what you can do with him. He likes you."
Red, who is King Yidor's assistant director, shrugged his shoulders, hopelessly. Then he went up to the back platform where the boy was sitting.
"Jackie," he said, "Mr. Yidor is going to quit the picture. He says he is going to tell Mr. Mayer you are a rotten actor."
With that Jackie started to sob, and he meant it, too. That's the scene on the observation car platform that tears at your heart.
POLICE Court Magistrate J. A. R. Cairns, of London, got out of the wrong side of his bed one morning recently, called for his tea, adjusted his monocle, and roared:
"Film producers are fouling civilization. Constantly in my court here I see girl-mothers faced by lads challenging their obligations to paternity. Seduction is the normal initiation into society."
Tut, tut, Mr. Cairns, perhaps these young people of yours have been reading those novels of English society written by your Michael Arlen and Beverly Nichols. Before we went broke all of our young ladies were introduced into society with formal and expensive debuts at the Ritz-Carlton or the WaldorfAstoria. And if you read the papers at all, you must know that in Hollywood, at least, the boys marry their girls, time after time.
THESE economists may be pretty smart fellows, but when one of them lists the slim picture stars as one of the causes of the low price of wheat, it is more than we can stand for. Attempting to achieve the new svelte style of sex appeal, he says, American women are laying off wheat cakes and laying in vast supplies of tomato juice. If that economist could see Mary Astor