Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1922)

"WHAT ABOUT HAROLD LLOYD?" Harold Lloyd isn't a showman. He can't „ praise himself. He can't pose and he's more -y interested in other people than in himself zAdela T^ogers St. Johns w; 'HAT about Harold Lloyd?" I suppose it is because I like Harold Lloyd so much, admire and respect him so tremendously, that I have thought sufficiently about him to ask that question. The Gang was discussing genius in the art of motion pictures. It was a hot evening in Hollywood and the ancient and venerable topic of "Have you read?" had died of sheer inanition. A hint of ocean breeze floated in through my pergola, bringing the spicy scent of Cecil Bruner roses and a shower of palely pink petals. It brought, too, renewed pep enough for someone to mention that a group of famous critics had just selected Charlie Chaplin as one of the fifteen immortals of all times. And we fell to discussing genius in the movies and trying to estimate how many real geniuses the art, had produced I waited for the usual list to be completed — Charlie Chaplin, D. W. Griffith, Mary Pickford. Those three are always conceded. A few new names were ventured. And met with giggles, with argument, biting scorn. One or two with friendly semiagreement. Then I burst into the fray. "What about Harold Lloyd?" I asked. There was a little, blank silence. Blank and amazed faces turned on me in the purple dusk. The Gang are hard-boiled, but they usually pay you the compliment of considering your bet before they call. They considered mine, but, as I have said, blankly. So I backed it up a little. "Oh, he doesn't wear a flowing tie, nor long locks. He doesn't discuss socialism nor anthropomorphism nor atavism at dinner. He doesn't tell you he's a genius. But / think he is one. Can't a genius be a normal human being? Isn't he nearer to being really great because he is so well-balanced, so decent, so clean and kindly in character and life? Can't a genius be a regular guy? " " Y-yes," said the publicity director, a regular guy, but not a regular regular guy, if you know what I mean. The dramatic critic nodded. "That's it. I'm not going to argue this — yet. I never thought about Harold Lloyd in that role before." "Neither did I," admitted the famous woman novelist, "I — I never thought about him at all. But I'd walk two miles in the rain in these shoes," she held up a shapely foot in gear that was highly ornamental but most impractical, "to see one of his pictures. I never miss him." "He's awfully funny, all right," said the red-headed scenario writer, who has a I Top, Harold Lloyd's first picture. Just beneath Harold is shown with his grandmother, Mrs. Sara Fraser, aged 89 years sense of humor. "He makes me laugh more than anybody else. But somehow I always figured he was — just funny. Like a man with red hair or blue eyes or a snub nose." "Don't be silly," said I. "How can he be just naturally funny when he isn't a bit funny off? He's as different from the character he plays as night is from day. You wouldn't recognize him if he walked in here this minute. He's funny, and he's pathetic, and he's lovable on the screen because he's a great comedian and a great actor. Yet the whole world just takes him for granted." The very fine character actress, who is a supreme screen technician herself.opencd her black eyes very wide and stared at me, "Harold Lloyd a great actor? " she gasped, then as she began to think, the gasp dragged out into a sort of hum, "Why, I never thought of him as an actor at all." " Didn't you? " I asked. "Well, try it. Remember that in ' Never Weaken ' which was a three-re.el picture, he held the screen absolutely alone for more than a reel and a half. Did you ever see anybody else do that? Remember the drama of the awfully funny scenes in that when he was trying to commit suicide? I watched some of those scenes on the girders made. Now while that picture wasn't made as high up from the street as it looked, it was made on a scaffolding structure that would have given him a good hard fall of two stories if he'd slipped. But he acted — even up there. " Remember the switch from swift comedy to pathos — a lmost traged y — i n 'Grandma's Boy' when he runs into the house and confides to his grandmother that he's a coward? And the first reel of 'The Sailor-Made Man,' where he was the fresh, spoiled, nervy son of the idle rich. Then tell me he isn't a great actor!" The character actress gave a decisive little nod. "You bet he is. But — let me illustrate what I think about him Some ball players always make every chance they have look hard. If it's an easy fly to center, they stand on their left ear and grab it out of the air with their bare hand. Grandstanders. Others, like Eddie Collins, do everything easy. They make the hardest try in the world look simple. That's Harold Lloyd. He's so evenly balanced as an artist that you don't realize he is one." I bore my triumph modestly. From behind me, the assistant director spoke in his leisurely, positive way, "He's the greatest 'gag' man in the {Continued on page 112) n