Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1959)

Record Details:

Title:
Photoplay
Date:
Jan-Jun 1959
Publisher:
New York, MacFadden Publications, Inc.
Volume:
Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1959)
Leaf #:
000168
Language:
English
Collection:
Early Cinema, Fan Magazines, and Hollywood Studio System
Format:
Periodicals
Contributor:
Media History Digital Library
Sponsor:
Media History Digital Library
Coordinator:
Media History Digital Library
Description:
The leading Hollywood fan magazine of the 1920s and 1930s. Photoplay offered readers portraits of their favorite movie stars and stories about their personal lives. The magazine played an important promotional function for the Hollywood industry, but its editors and reviewers could also be highly critical of Hollywood. Beginning in 1921, Photoplay bestowed its annual 'Medal of Honor' for the film readers voted as the best of the year. -- Eric Hoyt, 2011.
Date Added:
June 20, 2024
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EVERYBODY AT HOME WAS PICKING ON ME... lV/fy father asked me what was bothering me. I had a room of my own in a big beautiful house in a good neighborhood. I had a car, six sports jackets and a generous allowance. I was going to a good school. My brother was a regular guy and my sister a nice kid. I had plenty of friends and one particular girlfriend I was especially fond of. There was nothing more I could ask. Yet all this wasn’t enough. I remember getting home from high school one afternoon, around three o’clock, soon after my sixteenth birthday. It was a Thursday and I was especially angry at the world. I didn’t notice that the sun was shining and that it was a beautiful spring day. The house seemed like a prison, a place to stew in, and I just wanted to get away from it As I walked through the front hall I knew exactly what I was going to do. I had it all planned, carefully planned. I bounded upstairs, threw my schoolbooks on my bed and shouted to our maid, Roberta, “I’m leaving. And you can tell father I’m not coming back.” Roberta just stood there with a horrified gape on her face and her mouth forming a large “0” as I brushed past her, feeling very manly and grown-up, and marched out of the house and towards the turquoise-green Ford which was standing out in the driveway of the house. (Continued on page 83) by ROBERT HORTON