Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1920)

Photoplay Magazine skin covered book in his lap and speaking with a decided English accent. I must have been very captivating. First he made me feel uncomfortable by piercing glances, then he ignored me totally. Thinking I knew something of literature I essayed to discuss modern Irish writers. Then it was I discovered he was Irish and a real student as well. For even though I knew of Synge, Lady Gregory, William Butler Yeates and Lord Dunsany he was able to roll off glibly a dozen names that I had never heard of. I was somewhat nonplussed and sat quietly gazing at the grinding camera. Suddenly he looked at me and said really seriously though I am not so sure he was trying to be facetious— "I say, Miss, have you ever worked in pictures?" And without waiting for me to reply he got up and called the director, Mr. Clifton, and cameraman, Mr. Hill, over and most graciously introduced them to me. That put me in a nice comfortable situation. I wanted to talk to them yet I must not forget my mission in being there. Mr. Gerrard said to me real, encouraging "Perhaps they'll have time to interview you in a few minutes." "Ha, ha" laughed Mr. Hill and Clifton, "she's here to interview you!" The villain looked dumfounded and said pathetically, "What have I ever done to be interviewed?" "The inevitable accounting for having been a villain all your life" I ventured. "A man who has played in pictures with such titles as 'The Conspiracy'. 'The Country God Forgot' and 'The Hun Within' sounds as if he needed spiritual rejuvenation," I said jestingly. "Ah, but you didn't know that I played 'In a Full House' as my first picture part," he replied snappily. 53 And then I was sure he was Irish. "Does it pay to be a villain, Mr. Gerrard?" I asked with philosophic intonation. "I understand it pays more to be a hero, remuneratively speaking" he laughed. "But because I look the part I've always been cast for crook-gentleman crook parts. I am an actor because I love it. I was educated in Dublin University and read good hterature as a result of directed tastes no doubt although I reaUy do prefer it. I despise affectedness and sincerely want to do my work well and pleasingly. "I hate interviews for the reason that the tawdry, overromantic, over,-sentimental characterizations or equally obnoxious "ham," ki.ghaired, funny page, Rialto type that is usually depicted makes lor mystery perhaps but does not in my opinion create a genuine appreciation of the hard working, good citizen type of actor. I work hard and love it. I don't know what more to say because I'm too surprised," he ended abruptly. Fairly delighted with having obtained what I considered the pith and marrow for an interview I started to leave. "Oh, by the way," he cried. "Here's another thing. In the only fan letter I ever got in my life from a Japanese girl she wanted to know if I were married. I am not married because I bore women." Whether the remark was candid or a subtle insinuation I will let you conclude. At any rate I went on my way rejoicing that I had taken advantage of a screen villain and discovered an actor who had qualities that would make him an excellent Beau Brummel or Baron de Chevreul (of "A Parisian Romance") but withal was more concerned with his Art than with the publication of meticulous details of his career (as many in the profession are) and that he was an interesting man with the fine human YOU-and-I quality. Joe Martin. Monkey Business Filmdom's latest blushing bride is a regular little chatterbox. By MRS. JOE MARTIN (nee Topsy Tree) Translated from the Simianese by H. C. Bate Mrs. Joe Martin. I CAN'T say that I ever heard of a bride giving out an interview panning her husband so soon after their marriage, but then, I am no ordinary bride, and the events which have transpired since Joe Martin led me. blushing, from the Universal City justice's office, excuse anything I might say. I speak without prejudice. The fact that I was married to this Joe Martin party didn't necessarily change my opinion of him any — for the better. It was a marriage of convenience — if you get what I mean — convenience of the Publicity Department. Ours was no plebeian courtship. For the benefit of posterity, we decided, after being approached on the subject by members of the publicity staff, to let them screen our heartthrobs. I must say, however, that this had its disadvantages. Take a tip from me, girls, and don't let a camera man come near your cage while you're being courted. I remember with dismay the time Joe popped the question. I knew it was coming and had taken a firm grip with my toes on the branch upon which we were swaying. I was going to close my eyes and fall lovingly towards him. It is well I had taken precautions. Just as I swayed, there came the ominous "click" of the moving picture camera from beneath the tree. Although Joe and I are old-timers before the camera — perhaps we were a little nervous at the time. Anyway, I didn't fall into Joe's arms as I expected. There were no arms to fall into. When I opened my eyes and caught my balance, I saw Joe speeding across the fields toward Universal City and gaining on the camera man every second. The camera man escaped into a building. Joe came back very much put out. He was so upset that he forgot what we had been talking about. I had to remind him. There were still other times when I was sorry the camera played such an important part in our love-making. The Httle affair with Jocko, another Universal monk, for instance. Joe had been surly for several days. He had sent me only two shrivelled bananas. It was only by accident that I happened to stroll by Jocko's quarters. He looked so lonesome that I stopped to cheer him up. One can't be haughty with old friends, though, and I am sure I did my best to cheer up the poor boy. At any rate, when I chanced to look around and saw that awful camera man cranking away within a few feet of me, I paled and fled. Of course, the incident reached Joe's ears. It has been the subject of many a tedious conversation between us.