Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1948)

f Why I've Changed ; (Continued from page 36) pretty crisp, j But I hope I’ve come a long way since .1 then. I believe I’ve lived to learn that I sometimes, and nearly always when one’s own self is involved, the closer we are to 1 a situation, the less we can see it. If they’re saying I’ve changed, perhaps I they (whoever they might be) are right. I At least it’s obvious that I have unwiti tingly provoked some kind of controversy. 1 I care of course. No one particularly enj joys unfavorable criticism. But I’d like to I make one point especially clear. It doesn’t I worry me. It might have once, but I think 1 most of us in the public eye come to I realize that no matter which way we turn, we’re bound to offend someone. I know my habits are the same, my real friends remain. With the possible exception that I am now divorced, 'the tenor of my life hasn’t varied. Summing it all up, however, there is still only one answer— I have changed! To myself I call it — growing up. By this ' I mean, growing up in self-confidence, so I that I am no longer ashamed or afraid I of expressing the serious thoughts that should belong to a mature person. Growing up to the extent that now the road ahead no longer twists and turns. TO those who associate me with the role of “laughing girl,” this is somewhat of a confession. By nature I have always been a very serious-minded person. Even as a child, I lacked the abandon and blessed freedom from responsibility, which is the heritage of childhood. I shall never forget one particular neighbor. “Your little Sarah Jane,” she’d sigh to my mother. “Her eyes are much too big — and much too serious. But with that turned-up nose, no one will ever take her seriously.” As a result, I grew up a clown. When I started having dates, it was always — • “Get Janie — she’s so much fun!” And so I became a gay person, but actually my gaiety created a false side. In the meantime, my more human side took a terrific beating. I wouldn’t have dar^d show what I ofttimes felt inside, of telling anyone about my serious ambitions. Oddly enough, today I can look back and be grateful. The gay side of my nature has helped me to live with my children. We have so much fun in our house. Something else came out of it too — something very precious in everyday living. All people are different. If you are able to give each that part of you that is wanted most, you’ll never lack friends, or lose friends. Twelve years ago I arrived in Hollywood. Because I needed room rent, I took the first job I could get. I was a waitress in a coffee shop. Then I managed to get in the line as a chorus girl at Paramount. This was the beginning. I don’t think anyone can realize what it did for my selfconfidence, when I was borrowed back years later for “The Lost Weekend.” Ten of my twelve Hollywood years have been spent under contract to Warners. During this time, I know I learned that patience plays the greatest part in ambition. I went through a bitter period. I was antagonistic, put up a big front to show how little I cared. I was so on the defensive, when anyone did try to encourage me, I snapped his head off. There were many times when I felt I was ready to do serious roles. But invariably, when a dumb bunny role came along — I was elected. I realize now, if they had given me a chance at serious drama, I wouldn’t have been ready. But of course, then I could only think of one thing — they’ll never accept this turned-up nose for anything but comedy. Meantime, I was fighting myself and t ' ’ owledge that I was round * Reg.T. M. WORLD'S LOVELIEST FOUNDATION Insist on genuine FLEXEES 99