Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1930)

The Girl on the Cover DW. GRIFFITH, then considered the greatest director of 'them all, looked into the blue eyes of Norma Shearer and said, "I'm sorry, my child, but you'll never photograph." A few months before, Norma had left her home in Canada to go to New York and try to get into pictures. She had no theatrical experience. There was no money in the bank. And the master told her she wouldn't photograph! Such a blow would have sent an ordinary girl scurrying back to the proverbial fireside. But Norma is no ordinary girl. She mapped out a path. It was as straight as her own patrician nose. And not once did she detour. They told her that before she could smile in front of the camera she must have her teeth straightened. She took care of that. She likes to play tennis and golf, but over-indulgence In these games makes her muscular, and you can't be sweet and feminine on the screen with a right arm like Jack Dempsey's. So Norma gave up athletics. During those arduous years when she was carving out her career she realized there was no place for romance in her life. So romance was shut out. WHEN Norma arrived in New York, she had never heard of a booking agent. Someone told her that she must find one. She did, and got a job. And getting that first job was a neat trick of a trigger-like brain. The booking agent sent her to a studio where twelve college-girl types were needed. Sixty young women had answered the call, and eleven had been chosen by the assistant dhector before Norma could powder her nose. But she had to have that job. She coughed loudly. The noise attracted the assistant's ear. His eye followed. She flashed him a bright, hopeful smile, and she was selected as the twelfth girl. The rest wasn't so easy. After her extra work had led her into parts, there were days when no calls came. Then, for six months, Norma did not even see the inside of a studio. SHE had to have a job if she expected to keep on having her morning porridge, but she refused any work that took all her time. She was determined she would keep her contacts with the studios, so she posed for commercial photographers. Maybe you bought a washing machine, a bungalow apron or a new pair of gloves because of Norma's contented smile. But she wasn't contented. This work paid well — five dollars an appointment. Some weeks she earned She Mapped Out a Path Last Minute News "The Green Goddess" — Warner Brothers — George Arliss triumphs again in his second talking picture, made from a stage play in which he appeared for several seasons. Arliss plays the Rajah of a small state in Northern India. Thrilling stuff, with the star doing slick work. Allan Dwan, who made many of Gloria Swanson's silent hits, will direct her in her next talkie, "What a Widow!" The musical "Queen Kelly" is postponed because Franz Lehar's score is late. Owen Moore and Ian Keith will be in support. Fuller Mellish, young stage actor who gave excellent performances in "Applause" and "Roadhouse Nights," Paramount talkies, died recently at his New York home. John McCormack, famous tenor, will make another picture for Fox when he returns from Europe. Greta Garbo's third talkie will be "Red Dust," an exotic East Indian story. This after she finishes "Romance." Claudette Colbert, hit of "The Lady Lies," goes to Hollywood in April. First Hollywood picture — talking version of "Manslaughter." Ronald Colman has a brunette leading lady for the first time in "Raffles." Lucky girl — Kay Francis. Lawrence Tibbett's next operetta — "The New Moon," a Broadway smash. a hundred dollars — but it wasn't the object of her life. She still haunted the studios. Then, one morning, Norma's mail brought her three offers to come to California. She signed with Louis B. Mayer. When contract season arrived, Norma re-signed. She has never quarreledabout money. She has never given the producers any trouble. Hers is the glory of brains. Nine times out of ten, Norma's head rules her heart. "W7HEN X look back over my Iife W now," she says, "I tell myself that I could never go through the struggle again; that I could never sit for hours and hours in a casting office, waiting for somebody to tell me that I'm 'not the type' ; that I would never again have the courage to face the world without money; that never again could I give myself so completely to a career. And yet I know I'd do it all over again if I had to. Sometimes I even miss the struggle. "I don't feel that I've used any great amount of brains. I've had determination and a methodical mind. I know it, and I don't like it. I'd be much more interesting if I were fiery and tempestuous. I wish I weren't so neat. It would be grand if I could come into my dressing room and throw a pair of stockings in one corner and my make-up box in the other. But I just can't do that. "The struggle for a career gives a woman certain masculine viewpoints on life. The desire for a career is not considered feminine in the first place. The determination and grimness that such work require, is not feminine. Men aren't usually attracted by a woman with a purpose. "T KNEW I loved Irving Thalberg -L from almost the minute I first saw him, but I had to put thoughts of marriage away for seven years, because I was too busy and too selfcentered. You've got to be selfish to be successful. Now that I know, more or less, where I stand, I can give something to my marriage." Yet Norma is not content to sit back, now that she is a famous and wealthy woman. The talkies furnished her new fields to conquer. Again she used her head. She thought out her roles, played them sincerely, as she would have done on the silent screen. Norma has made use of every opportunity that presented itself. The pattern of her life is as methodical as the rows of silver bottles on her dressing table. And that has been her secret of success. Her next phonoplay, "The Divorcee," will be another carefully planned characterization.