Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1922)

I 12 Dorothy Dalton's Beauty Chat Miss Dorothy Dalton, the actress famous the world over for her beautiful complexion, says: "Any girl or woman can have a beautiful, rosy-white complexion and clear, smooth, unwrinkled skin like mine if she will follow my advice and use Derwillo in combination with Liska cold cream. Both are simple but very effective toilet preparations. I use Derwillo for the instant beauty it imparts and Liska cold cream to cleanse the skin, and make it soft and smooth." It is easy to apply, absolutely harmless, and has a marvelous effect upon the skin. Cue application proves it. Try this combination to-day on your lace, neck, hands and arms, and you will be delightfully surprised. Derwillo comes in three Dorothy Dalton shades: flesh, white and brunette. At toilet counters everywhere. Photoplay Magazine — Advertising Section re What About Harold Lloyd' (Continued from page 21) ■>•> ^DIAMONDS i WATCHES : /"SYLVIA" /Diamond Ring , I Blue white, radiant I perfect cut Diamond. „ 1 The rins ia 18-K SolidV \WhiteGold. carved and ft L\ pierced. Extraspeeial V "A at $100. Credit terms:]1 $050 A **= WEEK Others at S7S,y .S150. »200 / PRICES ARE DOWN Our IMMENSE BUYING POWER for our Chain of Stores in leadinffcitiesand our l»r.re Mail Order House enables ua to make lower prices th;in small concerns. We Invll* comparisons. Yon will be convinced that you can do better with LOFTIS. Money back if not satisfied LIBERTY BONDS ACCEPTED AT PAR. .Genuine Diamonds GUARANTEED I Our Diamonds are distinctive ery brilliancy, blue white, 'ct cut. Sent prepaid for FREE EXAMINATION, oa f Charge Account. SEND FOR FREE CATALOG There are over 2,000 illustrations of Diamonds, Watches, Wrist Watchc i. Pearls. Mesh Hairs, Silver* ware, etc., at Reduced Prices. Catalog explains everything. WRIST Mlt J?25 «. * A Month Shapo Gold filled, guaranteed 25 years. 16 Jewels, warranted. Ribbon bracelet with gold filled claap. Special $21. THE NATIONAL JEWELERS Owl. C-S02 108 N. State St. CHICAGO, ILL. STORES IN H-.ADINO CITIES business — and I bar nobody. Nobody. You can go through his pictures and list the funniest gags ever pulled on the screen — excepting always some of Chaplin's. Lloyd's stuff is always more or less subtle, mental, it's always clean, delightful, wholesome. And I happen to know that Harold himself is responsible for most of them — for all of them. He's the hardest worker I ever saw. And, when you stop to consider it, his work is the most consistent thing on the screen. I'll tell you one thing. I don't believe Harold Lloyd ever made a picture in his life that wasn't his best effort. He hasn't turned out a potboiler yet — and that's more than 1 can say for anybody else in pictures." "What I love about him," said the pretty star from the dim corner ot the porch where only the aureole of her bronze hair shone, "is the way he gives credit to everybody. He's had the same director and the same cameraman for six years. Harold is the inspiration, the real head of everything, but I never saw him fail to give proper credit for the least little bit of an idea." The young man who is almost engaged to the pretty star, turned her slim fingers over in his hand as he remarked, "Y'know, now you're talking about this, it's a funny thing to realize what a fine athlete Harold Lloyd is. I worked with Doug on his last picture, and I tell you Lloyd can do anything Doug can do in the athletic line. Why, think of the fight stuff in 'The Sailor-Made Man' and the stunts in 'Never Weaken.' Didn't they knock your eye out? Maybe people don't exactly call him a genius, maybe they don't rate him quite as high artistically as they should, but the good old box office keeps hitting on all four. Harold gets a big percentage of his pictures and he paid the government $165,000 income tax hist year. Harold Lloyd is the biggest, single, consistent box office attraction in America today and any exhibitor will tell you so." "But — but why," asked the famous novelist, "why isn't he given credit as a great artist? Why, if all this is true, isn't he rated in groups and in criticisms, as a genius? Surely there must be some reason!" TT was the cue I'd been looking for. " Because -*■ we just all take him for granted, that's why. We all know how good he is, but he isn't a showman. He can't praise himself. He can't pose and he's more interested in other people than in himself. He's so quiet and modest and ordinary personally that he doesn't lend himself to adulation or to exaggeration or to analysis. He's so appreciative of the public's kindness that he doesn't even realize how much we just accept him. Sometimes I think he's a little wistful about it — sometimes the box office and the unspoken admiration don't quite make up for the way we ignore him artistically. Because he loves his work and he wants to do fine things. "But — why, just yesterday he asked me if some evening when I had a bunch of newspapermen sitting around ' up here chinning about newspapers and swapping yarns about stories they'd worked on, if I wouldn't just let him come up and listen. Said he was crazy about stuff like that and he wouldn't say a word. Is there any other actor in the world — in the laortri — who would ask to come for an evening and just listen to a lot of other folks talk about something he wasn't in?" "NO," said the Gang. "Harold Lloyd gets more joy out of clean, simple, natural things. He's full of pep and life and fun. Goes out in the alley back of his house to practice putting. Knows all his neighbors and their children and invites them in to use his swimming pool. Never took a drink in his life, and yet he's a regular he-man. Just a fine, clean boy antl a great artist." Every advertisement in PHOTOPLAY MAGAZINE is guaranteed. "It doesn't happen often," said the dramatic critic, "but I believe you're right. The critics really seem to be appreciating him more and more." "Tell me something about him," said the famous novelist. "I like his pictures but I don't know anything about his history. All this intrigues me." "T_TE was born in a little town in Nebraska," ■*■■*• I said, " and he went on the stase in stock around Omaha and small towns in that district when he was twelve years old. His mother had alvvavs wanted him to be an actor. He played with Frank Bacon, in the old days. Later, he had a lot of Shakespearean training — studied hard. When he was nineteen, he came out to San Diego and became professor of Shakespeare in a dramatic school there. The school failed pretty soon after that, he told me, and he went to Los Angeles and got a job playing bits in stock. "Well, the stock company failed, too, or closed, and his father suggested that he try to get into pictures. So he went out to Universal City and hang around. But he couldn't get on the lot. Didn't have a job and nobody'd give him one. Finally, when he was hanging around in front of the cafeteria across the street, he noticed that fellows with make-up on didn't have to show a pass at tl'e gate. So he bought some make-up and a funny outfit and put it on. So he got inside the studio, and had a chance at least of being noticed . "Still, he didn't have a job, but he hung around the sets watchirg, and finally a director cast him for a Yaqui Indian. It was his first part. Well, he stuck around, playing character bits and he struck up a great friendship with another extra man, Hal Roach. It happened that Roach had a little money, and one day he said to Harold, 'Say, let's quit this dramatic stuff and we'll make a comedy.' "They did it. They didn't have a studio, so they made it all in the streets of Los Angeles. Roach marketed it to Pathe, antl they had to wait until that was paid for to make another one. Lloyd had established a sort of character, along the Chaplin line, Lonesome Luke. He made a bunch of two reelers for Pathe as Lonesome Luke and then one day, sitting in a theater, he watched Chaplin and he decided that he was a bum imitation of that great comedian. He wanted — he must — have something new. "At last he and Roach hit on the idea of using the big, horn-rimmed glasses, but otherwise playing this chap straight — a regular young American. They liked the idea, but it took them a year to sell it to Pathe, and when they did, they had to go back to making one reelers to get them accepted. And it took another year to get back up to two-reelers. It was a pretty tough fight all the way, but Harold had made up his mind to be something new — something that was his. And he did it." Then came the natural suggestion from this discussion. • "Let's go down and see his last picture? 'Grandma's Boy,' again," said the pretty star. For almost an hour we stood in front of that theater in a line, waiting. People were staying to see it through a second time. In the line that blocked the sidewalk for half a block I counted thirty-four old ladies and twenrv children. From the dark pit ahead of us came stimulating roars of laughter — roar upon roar. Then sudden, tense silences. As a torrent swelled into the street, I glanced up and saw a slim, dark, erect young man, in a tan overcoat and plaid cap, walking leisurely up the street, with an older man beside him. No one noticed him, and he peeked sideways at the crowd and smiled happily. "Hello, Harold," I called. But he only waved, and slipped quietly into the crowd.