Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1953)

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photoplay’s feature ATTRACTION when he said: “There’s nobody younger than Debbie. Not even my daughter and she’s nine.” The other’s a twenty-year-old, whose maturity of outlook would do credit to many of her elders. Debbie the First chews gum with abandon, pines for a monkey ’round the house and greets star-stuff with, “Hi, glamour boy, I say that laughingly.” Debbie the Second hates being called wonderful. “I never believe a person when they tell me stuff like that. It’s too much praise. Anything too much is no good.” The two Misses Reynolds make a combination as natural as a mountain spring and equally refreshing. Words tumble from her in a rainbow stream of gaiety, yet they are laced with common sense. It’s not her wit that endears her to people, but her spontaneity. UnseLfconscious as a puppy, she wouldn’t know a complex if it brought a letter from Freud. Given the chance, she’d flop on her stomach with a queen and dish as cozily as with a girl friend. She can’t understand being ill at ease with people. “You are what you are, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Only on one occasion did the cat get her tongue. Standing outside the studio commissary, all of a sudden without any preparation, there (Continued on page 76) 49