Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1948)

The Parks Story ( Continued from page 68) that she didn’t have to play a matinee together. And seven nights in a row Larry watched her on stage from out front.” “You mean,” said the columnist, amazed, “that you let Parks marry Garrett before he made a hit as Jolson? You mean you didn’t publicize this romance of how a couple of unknowns married and then both scored sensational hits?” “I OOK, is there anything else you want li to know about Parks?” asked Producer Skolsky, not too patiently. “Yes, tell me how he was able to give such a fine portrayal of Jolson, actually making you believe that he was singing, giving the impression that he was Jolson.” “A very remarkable fellow, this Parks,” the producer said. “He would come on the recording stage when Jolson was recording the songs and would merely stand there and watch Jolson. He would never say a word or ask a question. He would even take a record home and work on it. He’s a worker. Also he and Jolson were inseparable while he was preparing for the part and playing it. They went to ball games, shows, races and fights together. Jolson talked of all the high spots in his life until Larry had a real feeling for the old Winter Garden days and other incidents famous in the Jolson career. And, listening intently, Larry absorbed Jolson’s mannerisms and inflections along with the stories A1 told him. “When Larry came on the set he knew every Jolson gesture and every inflection of the Jolson voice. That’s why he was able to do the greatest job of dubbing that was ever done in a picture. Why, when Jolson looked at the early rushes of the picture, he remarked, ‘If I didn’t know I had done the singing I would be fooled and believe it was Larry singing.’ There couldn’t be a finer compliment than that.” “Please stop writing my story for me,” said the columnist. “Just give me the facts. During the filming of the picture, for instance, did you have to give Parks any counsel, any advice?” “Well, we found out that the way Larry studied a song was the way he’d have to do it in front of the camera. Because he used to study the songs wearing the white gloves that are part of the Jolson attire, he couldn’t do a song unless he wore the white gloves. Therefore, it became necessary to tell him in advance what songs were to be sung without gloves. Also, one day Larry had a cold and his voice was hoarse. He couldn’t, he insisted, do the song to the Jolson playback singing record because his — Larry’s — voice wasn’t so good. We were amused by this, but we didn’t film the song that day. As for advice and counsel — no, never had to say a word to Larry. Never had to try and guide him. He always knew. . . .” “There’s just one more thing I want to know about Parks,” said Skolsky, the columnist. “Wait, don’t tell me, let me guess,” said Skolsky, the producer. “Here it is: Larry Parks sleeps in a large, double bed and wears pajamas, both the trousers and the jacket.” “Just like you!” said Skolsky, the producer, to Skolsky, the columnist. And vice versa. The End Turn to Page 99 for Photoplay Fashions In Color The Good Provider Bye, baby bunting. Daddy’s gone a-hunting, To get a little rabbit’s skin To wrap the baby bunting in. Bye, baby bunting, Daddy’s back from hunting, He landed 'baby' modern swag, He has Fels-Naptha 'in the bag/ Even if a man can’t manage mink these days, he might do a fair job just keeping 'the little woman’ in Fels-Naptha. To a housekeeper faced with a big wash this grand laundry soap is almost priceless. There’s magic in the simple word naptha — when it’s blended with good mild soap, the Fels way. Magic that makes dirt do a disappearing act— ~ that makes your washing machine a 'quick change’ performer. When buying laundry soap means hunting instead of shopping — Fels-Naptha is the prize 'catch.’ p 93