Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1938)

Cut of the same cloth — Burns and Cobb in "The Arkansas Traveler" He's as easy to get along with as an old pair of shoes — and not much prettier, says this famous author — IRVIN S. COBB FOR the average movie magazine this would be a different sort of article. Well, it is being written about a different kind of movie favorite. The subject of it never won any beauty contests— unless they gave out a consolation prize. In an era when the flawless profiles of the latest glamour boys of the screen are being compared — favorably — with the outstanding profiles of past eras running clear back through the standard profile vintages to the John Barrymore period of 1928 — which was indeed a great profile year — my hero would never qualify even for honorable mention, since his side view is rugged rather than matchless. You could never call him winsome. Stories of his love-lives would be based on fiction not on fact. Getting married, he has the habit of staying married. He doesn't play polo. Put him on top of a skittish polo pony — probably you'd have to tie him on — and I doubt whether he could hit the continent of North America, using a bass fiddle for a mallet. When they print the exciting lists of current celebrities seen at the latest Hollywood night spots his name is among those prominently not present. Actually, he hasn't made a triumphant tour of the nation although he does pretty well in the matter of unsolicited triumphs whenever he goes back to his native state of Arkansaw for a session with the home folks and a bout with potlicker and corn pones. He is so fond of potlicker that he even likes it on a white vest and he is the undisputed champion corn pone eater of the United States. Needless to state, I refer to Bob Burns, the Bazooka kid of Van Buren. A LITTLE more than three years ago I played a part with Will Rogers in the last picture he made, before he went winging away from this earth to keep on flying up yonder beyond the eternal stars. And I have just finished playing a part with Bob Burns in his first picture as the undisputed leading character — "The Arkansas Traveler" as, very appropriately, it is called. I count these two engagements among my treasured experiences since the day I moved to California's most famous town and began to frolic about on the edge of Movieland. Because when I see Bob playing a scene I think involuntarily of Bill. Don't misunderstand me here. By that I would not have you think that Bob Burns is copying Bill's technique, for he isn't. He is playing himself, not a carbon copy of someone else. And he would be the last to say that in the affections of the American people he is taking Will Rogers' place or that he has inherited the mantle which fell from Will Rogers' shoulders. He is not taking anybody's place in anybody's affection. On his own merits and within an amazingly short time, he has won his own place as a popular entertainer in the movies, over the radio and through the daily column which he writes for syndication among the newspapers. Therein, it is true, the careers of the two men have run on parallel lines, but it was not by Burns' intent that these coincidences came to pass — things just fell out that way. And the mantle which now he wears before the friendly and approving eyes of the millions is a mantle of his own weaving, absolutely — threaded with a kindly but searching philosophy; embroidered with observation and understanding; fringed with a wholesome and a homely humor; stitched to gether by the deft hand of one who has achieved the knack, rare among laugh-makers, of being funny without being either spiteful or smutty. And he wears it with naturalness and humility, both of which, or I miss my guess, are entirely characteristic of the man. lET I repeat that having come to know Burns, I constantly am being reminded of Rogers. Before the camera and away from it, Burns has his share of the honest unaffectedness which was so distinctive a part of Rogers' professional make-up and his private make-up as well. Like Rogers, Burns gets his effects without straining or visible effort. After thirty years of trouping, he still retains the country boy's unsp^led viewpoint just as Rogers retained it — with enormous material rewards. In Burns' present eminence, as also was true of Rogers, there is proof that in an age of sophistication presumably dedicated to the three kinds of crackers — wise, animal and fire — the majority of the American public will pay out their good money to see or to hear or to read after a man who still loves the savor of the soil, and smacks of it in all he (Continued on page 87) 23