Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1954)

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But the films, traditionally, have required more voluptuous contours. She is string-bean-like by Hollywood’s standards, too tall, too thin, and virtually, as she herself candidly admits, flat-chested. And she will have no truck with “falsies” either. But if sex is the life force, then, by anybody’s standards, this girl is loaded with sex, for there never has been a girl so loaded with pure vie. She seems to get almost physical pleasure out of just plain breathing. The simplest things — things too many of us take for granted — things like food, and sleep, a new record, or a small present, give her a lift and a bounce. And the lift and the bounce are contagious. Lithe -legged on her fancy chrome -and aluminum bicycle, a present from Director Billy Wilder, her mentor in “Sabrina Fair,” she wheels erratically about the Paramount lot. “Hi, Ray, how are you?” “I say there, Jess, isn’t it a beautiful day?” And the stern faces of these studio police officers light up like searchlights. The mail boy comes in with a stack of fan letters, a routine job. But there’s nothing routine about his reaction to Audrey. “Why, Miss Hepburn,” his face lights up too. “Didn’t know you were back. We missed you.” Audrey has had all of one day off from her jam-packed “Sabrina Fair” schedule. But she responds to the welcome. “It’s wonderful to be back, Billy,” she says, and Billy goes his way whistling. “It is good to get away,” Audrey says after he is gone. “Just for the fun of coming back, with people saying ‘hello,’ and ‘how well you look.’ ” Herman, the waiter from the little restaurant across the street, who has been rolling trays to stars’ dressing rooms for so many years that he should be wearing a captain’s stripes, blushes and almost spills the tea in the presence of the first star he’s asked tor an autograph. “Tea, Herman,” Audrey says. “How fine. Now we will be warm and friendly.” For Herman, it’s better than a tip. The tea is just tea, compounded of tea bags, and water lukewarm from its journey. But Audrey’s appreciation gives it flavor, and the atmosphere suddenly is fine, and warm and friendly. And the cookies are Dutch. . . . “From home,” and delicious. And Audrey, savouring every bite, eats two of them. Four. Six. in Stardust It is fortunate, it seems imperative to comment, that Miss Hepburn has no calorie-counting problem. Since she so obviously loves sweets, it’s lucky that she can have all she wants. “Oh, but I can’t,” she says, “not by any means. I’m glad I like sweet things — I expect I’d be tubercular if I didn’t. But if I ate all I wanted. I’d break out. It just wouldn’t do. But I’m getting better. Now if I get a box of good chocolates, it will last awhile, maybe for two hours. I used to eat them all without stopping until every last one was gone.” She used to, she means, when food — unheard of foods like meat and chocolate — were first available at the end of the war. Audrey lived out five years of war, between the time she was ten and fifteen, in Arnhem, in the Netherlands. And “Arnhem took a bit of everything . . . the bombs, then the occupation, and finally the airborne.” Just staying alive was an arduous adventure, especially if you were anti-Nazi as Audrey’s socially prominent, economically well-off family were, and if you spoke English and French fluently from your years in English schools. Ten-year-old Audrey lost the security of her protected childhood brutally fast— as an uncle was shot as a hostage, a favorite cousin executed, her two older halfbrothers yanked out of college and shipped off to sweat out the war years in bomb-peppered German labor camps. “We lost everything, of course — o’ur houses, our possessions, our money. But we didn’t give a hoot. If we got through with our lives, that was the only thing that mattered.” She doesn’t like to talk too much about it any more, or even to think about it, but those years of terror and privation were crucial in forming the personality as well as the physical person of this stimulating newcomer to the screen. Her almost childlike enjoyment of little pleasures, her heart-warming gratitude for her recent big breaks come naturally to a girl for whom life itself was for a long time in jeopardy. Lots of girls Audrey’s age — she’s soon to be twenty-five — live alone in small apartments, cook lonely dinners night after night, and feel intensely sorry for themselves. As for Audrey: “It’s fun to unlock my little gate, and find the new record that the music shop down the street has delivered during the afternoon. I get into old, soft comfy clothes, and then I play $1,000.00 REWARD ... is offered for information leading to the arrest of dangerous "wanted" criminals. Hear details about the $1,000.00 reward on . . . TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES Every Sunday Afternoon on MUTUAL Stations Be sure to read that TD Special— a double-length feature — She Killed for Him" — an exciting headline case — in TRUE DETECTIVE magazine on sale at newsstands now. 102