Pictures and the Picturegoer (Jan-Dec 1925)

MARCH 1925 Pictures and Pict\jre$oer 51 /< BusfrxeKs Holida Mary Fit kford and Douglas Fairbanks sit ow at least one film every evening on a window in their drawing room. Are the stars movie fans? The answer to this question can best be obtained by taking a stroll down Hollywood Boulevard some evening, between the hours of seven and nine o'clock, pausing, in front of one of the neighbourhood theatres to note who is going in to see the show. There are several of these theatres, differing in no way from those in your town. They have a few " loge seats " that cost about ten cents more than scats near the front of the house, just as your theatres have. They have organists who walk out flat on the comedy (haven't you often noticed how the organist quits just when he's needed most), and gaily coloured advertisingslides are run, between shows, advising the Hollywood citizen to trade at the Blatz Pharmacy and the Center Grocery, Fruit Stand and Market. The kids down in the front seats applaud and whistle when the film breaks : late arrivals stumble over your feet trying to find seats; the girls behind you whisper and rattle sacks of candy. Oh, everything is just too neighbourly for words. The evening show in a Hollywood film theatre is just like that in any other small town in the country, with one exception. That exception is to he found in the Hollywood theatre's audience. Look around you when the lights go on between shows. Probably you'll find that half a dozen of the most famous film stars in the world are sitting within a few feet of you. Norma Talmadge, in a plain black suit and hat with a turned-down brim, sits with her husband near the aisle. In front of you is Adolphe Menjou with his wife and son. You note in neighbourly fashion how becoming that sleek, plain coiffure is to Mrs Menjou. The man who stepped on your toe you discover to be Monte Blue, so you forgive him, of course. The Torrences, the O'Malleys, the Beerys, all sit nearby. Indeed, Hollywood goes to the movies and enjoys them thoroughly. You may think this odd. Frequently a person, after visiting one of the local studios and watching a film production in the making, declares that he never will enjoy a motion picture again. Illusion has been Si rceii which is fitted over the large central destroyed. He knows that the face of the beauteous star is coated with yellow grease-paint, that the rooms in her mansion have only three walls and no ceiling, that her lover gathers her into his arms and murmurs, " At last we are alone," with eight or ten carpenters and electricians, besides cameramen and The late Thomas I nee owned this projection room.