Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1940)

penitentiary. (Could this be a Hollywood echo of Richard Whitney?) Tyrone plays his son, a soft-living but smart youngster who falls in bad hands, becomes the brains of a gang and plots his father's release. But the old man has some ideals left. He'll have none of it, and Ty ends up in the Big House himself. The only feminine thing about it is Dorothy Lamour, Nolan's girl friend, who likes Ty's looks. You can see the plot doesn't pull punches. Neither does Ty. The scheduled knock-'em-down and drag-'em-out between Ty and Lloyd is booked to go just for a couple of powder-puff punches. "Then I'll cut," explains Hathaway. "These stunt men will carry on and really mix it up in a long shot. All right, let's do it!" The stunt men grin to themselves, and Ty and Nolan start swinging. But the stunters soon stop grinning, and so do we. You've never seen such a set-to as Ty and Lloyd work up. "Print it," orders Hathaway. We're glad to learn the stunt fellows get their checks just the same. Also that Tyrone isn't just a name with Power. There's some real Irish in him, too. IT'S a wonder, in fact, that Warners haven't corraled Ty and all other even faintly Hibernian heroes around Hollywood for their all -Erin epic, "Three Cheers for the Irish"! Even without Cagney and O'Brien, the Warner shamrock twins, there are enough Irishmen on the set to start a Sinn Fein rebellion when we visit it one morning. Thomas Mitchell, his thatch dyed carrot red, Alan Hale, Pat Lane, Irene Hervey, Dennis Morgan, Virginia Grey — even Lloyd Bacon, the director, all trace their family trees to the Ould Sod. Bacon is the fellow who thought up the first Warner all-Irish movie, "The Irish in Us," with Cagney and Pat O'Brien. We find almost the entire cast circling a big dining-room table, for the key scene in the picture. It's where Thomas Mitchell, kicked off the police force after twenty-five years of faithful pave ment pounding, resolves to run for alderman and show the department a thing or two. The picture's whole plot depends on this scene, so it's plenty long. While all the six cast members chime in at their cues, Tom Mitchell slices a big ham energetically — a little too energetically, it turns out, because glib Alan Hale, of all people, fumbles his lines time after time. Alan's terribly embarrassed, because it means everyone else has to go through the long business again. Finally, almost through, Alan blows up again. This time, Tom Mitchell has sliced all the big ham to shreds. He signals a prop man. "We need more ham," he explains. "More ham!" explodes Alan, remorsefully. "We've got too much already. Just put me on the table and carve me up!" Everybody howls and the next take is perfect. That's what a little relaxation does to a set sometimes, when the hard luck sign is up. Hard luck is rank understatement, however, for "Saturday's Children," which we find under way at last after a double star rebellion on the Warner lot. Olivia de Havilland is still under suspension as we write because she said absolutely nothing doing after "Gone with the Wind." Jane Bryan flew off and married, even announced that she would retire from the screen. Marilyn Merrick, a new Warner stock actress, was booked for it then — but she just wasn't ready for that much acting. All in all, "Saturday's Children" is starting off with a leap-year jinx — even though Anne Shirley did finally rally to play with John Garfield, Dennie Moore and Claude Rains. To top all the ill omens, John announces that "Saturday's Children" is his last Hollywood picture for some time. The minute it's over he leaves for Broadway and the old familiar footlights, and Warners' will get Garfield back when they can catch him, which will probably be not until late summer at least. By then, Hollywood will be so busy that John may have to fight his way back in! Boos and Bouquets (Continued from page 5) pictures in the Philippines is fifth leading in the world market, you could arrange to print these in your magazine. Alfred B. Murillo, Manila, P. I. UNDYING GIFT I HE Film Society was showing the old silent version of "Robin Hood" and, although I was still shocked and unhappy over the news of Douglas Fairbanks' death, I decided to attend. The early scenes were slow, full of subtitles, and the student audience giggled. When Fairbanks, poised on the edge of the cliff whence he believes his sweetheart has thrown herself, draws his sword, kisses the hilt and, raising it like a crucifix, cries: "For God, for Richard, and for Her!" the audience became hysterical and the senior beside me shifted his feet (which he was resting on the neck of the girl in front of him) and guffawed. But something was alive in that room; the slight, swarthy, grinning man with the incredible acrobatic grace was real and magnetized even that audience into reluctant admiration. Not the years, not the preposterous subtitles, not even the cynical, jeering students, could prevail against the vitality and charm of the man who was Robin Hood and D'Artagnan and the Thief of Bagdad. It's too bad for the young in heart to have Robin Hood and D'Artagnan and the Thief die all at once. Or are they dead? Robin Hood lived the other night, against tremendous odds, as Fairbanks heroes always did. "That vibrant and gay spirit" was a gift to all of us. A gift which can never be taken back. Ruth Elspeth Raymond, Lexington, Mass. BATTING FOR BRENDA HERE'S my biggest BOO of the year, and it's going straight across the plains of Kansas, the Rockies of Colorado, the salt flats of Utah, through scenic Nevada, to Julia Smith in California. My, what a traverse — but it's worth it! You see, I don't like Miss Smith's criticism of Brenda Joyce. I wonder if she realizes "The Rains Came" was Brenda's first introduction to those huge, hot lights, a staring camera, a host of stars, and then — Royalty visited the set during one of Brenda's most difficult scenes, which undoubtedly became doubly difficult. Nevertheless, Miss Joyce came through beautifully. She possesses a speaking voice of perfect pronunciation, and personally I think Myrna Loy groped hither and yon with a covered-up look because of Brenda's superb acting. Please — put yourself in Brenda's slippers, then go see the picture again! Josephine Myers, Kansas City, Mo. Why Hollywood demands screen tests A beautiful figure is glamorous only when it moves beautifully. So your foundation must give you the Scissors Silhouette and ease of movement. The beauty of body movement is never lost in PANEL-ART FOUNDATIONS BY formpf >5 TO '12.50 waistline intriguingly slender hips trimly tailored APPROVED BY SCHIAPARELLI MADE BY THE FORMFIT COMPANY CHICAGO ' NEW YORK APRIL, 1940 87