Photoplay (Jan - Jun 1932)

Our private rambler shows you a brutal murder, an automobile accident, a lazy Mexican village and some strange goings-on in a Chinese hotel. But in Hollywood it's "just another day" Oh, it's a hard life these actors lead. Look at poor Chester Morris and Adrienne Ames having their luncheon served right out under a shady tree on location for "Sinners in the Sun" Studio Rambles By Sara Ha m ilton MIDNIGHT. Shadows creeping out from the huge buildings. A deadly silence. Through the vast lot of First National Studios we steal, silently. A soft wind whistles and moans around the corners. Far out on the back lot "Doctor X," another horror picture, is being made. Its first scene to be shot appropriately and promptly at midnight. The scene is an old manse. Lights gleam through the windows. Outside, artificial rain beats and pours against the panes. Four men approach the door, and quietly knock. We glimpse Lee Tracy. And there's John Wrav. Slowly and softly the door is opened. In the light within we catch a glimpse of Fay Wray's frightened face. And then a hand steals around the door. An arm. A second later the horrible Doctor X. We're off shrieking like a wild turkey, down Dark Canyon and under the bed. The sound of brakes. A crash. A jar. And another car hits the old elm tree. The chauffeur, Chester Morris himself, alights. Adrienne Ames, the lady in the rear, alights. As a matter of fact, they alight together with another bump. Of heads this time. A blow-out, a scramble for tools, amusing repartee, a little of this, a bit of that, a kiss — but wait. Mustn't tell too much of "Sinners in the Sun." Off in a far corner of a Paramount sound stage stands the tree with the green grass growing all around. And the huge car, with Chester and Adrienne, against it. A bored mechanic stands on the rear ISO bumper, just out of camera range. Now. The signal is given. L'p and down bounces the mechanic to give the effect of bumping. The jar is perfect. And the tree considers itself properly hit. But sh-h-h — don't tell I let you in on this. They're funny that way, in the movies. Now what's the trouble? Good heavens, it's Chester's shirt. What? Oh, it isn't blue enough and when Chester removes his coat it photographs gray. Blue takes white in pictures, you know. So out goes a prop boy and in two minutes' time — no more, he's back with a violent blue shirt. And a lady politely withdraws to peep into a cozy little — ahem, affair between Jimmie Dunn and Peggy Shannon out at Fox. "Society Girl" is in the making. Joan Bennett is visiting behind a bit of scenery. Reading a book. GLANCE around. Lavishness. Splendor. Silken gauze drapes. Velvet hangings. Gleaming chandeliers. A NewYork apartment that is a New York apartment. On an alluring couch (dear me) sit Jimmie and Peggy. Now over to the victrola. Sweet, soft music. She's in his arms. Dancing. Floating about the lovely rooms. On the sidelines, the faces of the electricians and carpenters take on a wistful look, I swear it. Like a feather, they float, these two. High above on a rafter, an electrician leans on one elbow and gazes down. Suddenly the grin, the wisecracking smirk, dies an instantaneous death on the face of Jimmie. He looks long and deeply into the eyes of Peggy. And sighs. A bit closer he holds her and right here is where we scurry over to the side lot and enter, will wonders never cease, a complete Mexican village. Suddenly, there's a commotion. The villain comes hurtling out the door. An Indian grabs a gun. Clippety clip they're off on a chase and before we can catch our breath, behind a dobie shack comes another and another. Tearing madly by. LOOK. On those steps over there. Lovely Cecilia Parker and George O'Brien. And now, for heaven's sake, George grabs Cecilia's hand and they're off on another chase. It'sallfor"The Killer." Straight from Mexico to China in twenty minutes. With little Chinese children playing in the streets of Radio Pictures Studio. Women with high Oriental headdresses. Chinese men in native costumes. A clatter of high Chinese voices. The "Roar of the Dragon" is in progress. A vision flits by. It's Gwili Andre, the newcomer. And, as I live, over there sits ZaSu Pitts with a lapful of Chinese babies. Silence now. The Klieg lights catch the gilt of the Chinese decorations. Action now. Up to the desk of this little hotel in China strides a tall American. There's a gasp from Arlene Judge who is watching Richard Dix out of sight. Then we see. For Richard has with him a beautiful Chinese maiden. And with that we rush right home to tell Richard's lovely wife. Such goings on !