Pictures and the Picturegoer (Jan-Dec 1925)

58 Pichure s and Pichurpo ver FEBRUARY 1925 Left and Below : Percy Marmont with and without face fungus. am charmed to meet our most distinguished actor who — " "Oh, cut it out," said Percy hurriedly, " Let's have a drink." He went across the room and opened — No, I won't give away his secrets. But he opened it, anyway, and brought out — . Never mind what he brought out. You may take my word for it that the taste was sound enough. "But what is this?" I asked him, reproachfully. " I had always been led to believe, from a careful publicity, •that Mr. Percy Marmont the distinguished actor, was a paragon of a person who never told a lie, or indulged in strong liquors, or came back late from his club at night." " Go on believing it," said Percy with a grin. " It's a pleasant belief and looks good in print. But meanwhile meet the real Percy Marmont, who is, I'm thankful to say, a human being." And he poured me out another. "Dut let's get this straight," I said. "Do you mean to tell me and an anxious world of picturegoers that you're not the perfect Mark Sabre of the screen? Do you mean to say that you smoke — " " And drink." "And tell polite lies?" " And tell real old whoppers. And play Mah Jongg. And sometimes forget to shave. I confess it all." " Mr. Marmont," I said sternly, " do you know what .happens to a young man who leads this vicious sort of life? Do you realise what the future holds for him? Do you know that when he grows up he is lost totally — " " And marries a girl in the corps de ballet'" Percy finished the quotation for me. " Yes, I know my Gilbert and Sullivan like all good Englishmen. I'm not a bit the nice young man you know from the screen. It's just as well to warn you in good time." " You're not?" said I. "Then shake." And we settled down to enjoy ourselves. " By the way," I said presently, "why did you make that remark about another persecution— are you in the habit of being persecuted more than most of the popular stars?" " I've been persecuted all my life," he answered. It's my profession. I don't know whether there is something about my face or my figure or my mentality that invites ill-usage, but whenever they want someone they can kick and browbeat and send to the devil in every possible way they send post-haste for me. I've nothing much to say in favour of my face, but sometimes I wonder whether it has really asked for all the ill-treatment it gets. Even the camera has done its bit in the way of persecution." " I always thought you photographed particularly well," I remarked. "T HOPE I don't,'1 he answered. " I hate the screen Marmont. Sometimes when my films are run through I can hardly bear to look at them, so much does the sight of my own face bore and irritate me. But the camera is an unintentional persecutor. All the rest have been deliberate." " You mean the sort of rough luckthat happened to Mark Sabre?" " I mean every kind of pictorial suffering, physical and mental. I seem to have got a corner in persecution. Some day I shall write an autobiography and call it ' Persecuted Percy.' People would buy it thinking it was screaming farce, and they would find themselves up against stark tragedy!" " I suppose you are a pathetic type," I reflected, looking him up and down, studying his keen, sensitive face and slight figure, the honest eyes, the interesting touch of grey in the hair at his temples. " I'm a pathetic fool," said Marmont, smiling at my scrutiny. " I must be, to judge from the sort of Right : Percy Marmont, Gertrude Short and Ralph Bushman listen in whilst on location for " The Man Life Passed By." m