We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
CAL YORK'S GOSSIP
F
Frankenstein's choice of a lady is Elsa Lanchester (Mrs. Charles Laughton), who is cast opposite Boris Karl off in the "Bride of Frankenstein"
KAY FRANCIS is still getting reverberations from her fateful party . . . First, she had two reporters tossed out who were there to cover an assignment — not to crash the party. Then, after all the publicity about how she bravely went through the ordeal with a high fever and a well developed attack of influenza but-theshow-must-go-on, a mean old health officer failed to see it that way. . . He wrote her a lengthy reprimand about how people with flu ought to stay in bed and not go around spreading germs — and if her guests didn't care, perhaps the people they would expose to contagion might care . . . Winding up with words about "gross negligence." Then, to top it all, Kay failed to show up at the big Warner studio party, at which every actor on the lot, even Paul Muni who never goes any place, put in an appearance.
And so Kay, you can readily see, is in the dog house plenty for the time being . . .
Pals in New York think nothing of it when Irvin S. Cobb appears in a knee-length smock, his writing habit. But Cobb's costume causes a stampede out in Hollywood
34
OR some obscure reason, the quoting of odds and prices paic by winning race horses is banned over the radio.
When the fabulously rich Santa Anita $100,000 handicap wa. run off near Hollywood recently, the entire world was pretu much agog to hear what the winning thoroughbred, Azucar paid off in the machines.
The announcer skipped the vital figure, as instructed. Bu Ben Bernie and Al Jolson were sitting near the microphone.
"What did Azucar pay?" yelled Bernie.
"Twenty-eight, sixty," yelled Jolson.
And an invisible army of radio listeners breathed an inaudible "Thanks."
IT was one of those moments in the day when even a moving picture director's nerves are a bit frayed from coping will: crowds of extras and innumerable important details of making a picture.
Cecil B. DeMille sat relaxed in his canvas megaphone throne on "The Crusades" set and mopped his brow. A prop man approached him.
"Mr. DeMille," he ventured timidly, "the falcons are getting sleepy."
DeMille looked up wearily. "What do you want me to do," he snapped, "croon to them?"
N impressionable (and very hot) Spaniard arrived in town the other day, with just one thing on his mind. He wanted to meet one of our celebrated platinum blonde stars and receive a signed picture from her. After pestering the studio for days, he was given the promise of a photograph — a beeeg one — but it didn't arrive.
When cameramen intruded
to photograph Dolores Del.
Rio, her dogs, Michael (left)
and Faultless of Blighty were
all set to tear right after them
PHILLIPS,