Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1948)

Jeanne, of “Apartment for Peggy.” Yon have to look closely to catch the Crain sparkle Ask any Hollywood native who the smartest girl in town is and you’ll hear: “Goddard! She has the first dollar she ever made — ^mtiltiplied many times!” Or, “Well, Missy Colbert certainly doesn’t belong in any dull group.” Or, “Wanda Hendrix could compete for that distinction — ^if she doesn’t have it already!” Likely enough no one would mention Jeanne Crain. She’s my candidate, nevertheless. There’s no flash about Jeanne. She doesn’t make opinionated speeches. She doesn’t seem to have the least impulse to exhibit — to talk about the flattering new contract she received from her studio — to mention the fact that the land upon which she and Paul Brinkman buUt their streamlined homestead has tripled in value . . . Neither does Jeanne exhibit in her appearance. I saw her in New York while she was on location for “'Three Wives.” She wore a tailored crepe dress almost the color of her brown hair, which she stiU wears long. She’d hke to have it cut modishly short — ^but doesn’t because Paid likes it the way it is. In California, she’s partial to casual clothes; a powder blue corduroy skirt, sapphire blue sweater, gold and coral beads knotted and twisted at her young throat, gold kid sandals and, perhaps, a violet coat. In both appearance and manner, Jeanne is reminiscent of a girl in a daguerreotype, until you look at her more closely — closely enough to be aware of the sparkle in her eyes — or hsten to her carefully enough to catch the vmderlying zing in her voice. Like most people, I was completely fooled by Jeanne. I met her in 1943. Darryl Zanuck introduced me to her at the Twentieth Century-Fox studios. “Imagine trydng to make a star out of that little girl,” I thought and said. (Continued on page 97) 54