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November, iy?o
Ramona
of
Broadway
By MURRAY WILCOX
ROSEMARY— that's for remembrance. And Theby might suggest a variation on Thebes or recall both Egypt and Spartan women. Together, however, they make the name Rosemary Theby and incidentally give a perfectly suitable impression of the conversation and personality of a perfectly satisfactory screen leading lady.
The Spartan reference to Miss Theby is no exaggeration. Perhaps the Egyptians may be, but I doubt it, because she's created any number of screen Oriental roles, such as that of Kuta-ulKub in "Kismet." She even portrayed an Oriental vampire
years ago in one of Lubin's first multiple-reelers called "The Reincarnation of Karma," which has remained as one of the landmarks of picturedom.
It's a long journey from Egypt to Mexico, but it is evident that Rosemary is apt to follow the line of westward progress, although even after her appearance as the Spanish heroine of fiery "Rio Grande," she was not prevented from returning to the Far East— and "Kismet."
She will play none other than strongly emotional roles, preferably with a Spartan gladiator of a man as the colead — a man who is a finished, capable actor rather than the merely-handsome hero, who can furnish her with the requisite inspiration to work, and about whose work and
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hers can be said by the ever-critical public, "What an excellent screen team !"
Once upon a time Rosemary played comedy — a long series of film domestic difficulties for Universal, in which she co-starred, co-authored, co-directed and co-edited with Harry Myers. But now she's done with comedy. When she retired from the screen for a time after the aforesaid comedy series every director, she says, in Filmland who wanted an irate young wife for a picture called on her to do the part.
"Whereas," she remarked, "I couldn't be anything but serious. I couldn't discover anything funny in the comedies we made and so I played my parts straight. I couldn't even see a joke until four years ago and used to read the funny papers without cracking a smile !"
For a long time, too, she was considered by the directorial profession for nothing but vampire roles like the Parisian adventuress in Griffith's "The Great Love." And every once in a while now she even becomes identified with the siren type, although, like every other screen actress, she declares that she doesn't want to have anything to do with them. Nevertheless, the Kuta in "Kismet" was a vamp — a lady who wears the lowest-and-beholdest of gowns. Rosemary's vicious queen, too, in the
Mark Twain story, "A Connecticut Yankee at King Arthur's Court" in which she starred for Fox and the plotting, scheming adventuress of "The Little Grey Mouse," another Fox drama which she has just completed, are both unscrupulous ladies who, cinematically, have cast their virtue to the four winds and set themselves to accomplishing the screen downfall of young leading men who, in private life, are perfectly content to go home to dinner— and to the wife and children.
And yet Rosemary, in her own private haven — the little white bungalow perched atop a miniature hill in {Continued on page 57)
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