Picture Play Magazine (Jul - Dec 1929)

92 Tneir Continued from page 19 the radio, or phonograph, and conduct the unseen orchestra. If I were to do that, would my guests care to repeat their visit? But Charlie is a genius. When that brilliant English woman, Clare Sheridan, came to this country, she visited Hollywood and met Chaplin. In her "American Diary" she relates what occurred when Charlie saw her sculptured head of him. Clare writes as follows : ' 'It might be the head of a criminal, mightn't it ' he remarked, and proceeded to elaborate a sudden theory that criminals and artists were psychologically akin. On reflection we all have a flame — a burning flame of impulse, a vision, a sidetracked mind, a deep sense of unlawfulness." It seems a genius possesses this flame to a marked degree ! Sometimes Charlie is tremendously gay — laughing, jesting, the life of the party ; conducting unseen orchestras ; making grandiloquent speeches to imaginary audiences. Just as quickly he turns to the other extreme. He seeks solitude, where the torments and sorrows of the world surge through his wracked brain. Chaplin is no poseur. I believe he genuinely expresses what he really feels. He anticipated Eugene O'Neill's "Strange Interlude" by asking his few friends — when no women were present — to "think aloud." That's most embarrassing, if you are one of those soul-tossed Actions Speak Louder Than Words beings flung into the vortex of artistic expression. After a period of intense solitude Charlie returns to Hollywood and Henry's, as if nothing had ever troubled him. Could you put up with Charlie's moods ? You could not ? Then you have no compassion for the feelings of a genius. One fond gesture of a genius is "to bare his soul to the world." How many of the dear players, both young and old, are reveling in their "soul barings" — though the soul seems not so much bared as Well, I'm alluding only to those possessing genius. John Gilbert, for example. John may be compared with his namesake of the Barrymore clan. His life and loves have been described frankly and vividly by himself. John has no use for evasion. His love throes have sounded like attacks of measles. His love episode with Greta Garbo amounted almost to a national epic. The Gilbert-Garbo affair blazed over the world and received more reclame than Madame Curie ever received for discovering radium. But John deserves praise for being honest in his utterances, at least. Part of Don Ryan's startling novel, "Angel's Flight," depicts various ones of genius in the film capital. John is the young actor described by the author. If this be so, then John has jolly well seen life, as they say. The only excuse I can make for J. G.'s peccadillos is that he can't be ordinary. You've got it — he's a genius ! Would you enjoy living with a genius? I should prefer not. One night, while driving down to the beach with Eddie Nugent, I listened to this interesting young man's ideas and desires, both active and suppressed, while Samuel Richard Mook, one of my fellow scribes — without adjectives — sat behind in the rumble seat. One of Eddie's suppressed desires is to conduct an orchestra. He told me that so great is this yearning, that if he is alone when he turns on the radio he imagines himself to be the conductor! But Eddie is not like Chaplin by any means. If Eddie ever became a genius he'd be the last person to know it. He's too regular. Before starting on our nocturnal ride, I suddenly thought I'd need an overcoat while driving. Eddie went in and fetched a ridiculous-looking coat he had worn in a picture. But did it go against my artistic feelings to wear it? Not on your life! If the coat did not look quite right on me, I hoped that people, glancing at the flashing car, would mistake me for a genius ! Believe me, boys and girls, I could easily pass up the company of the great — excepting la Goudal — for an evening spent with young Nugent, who has tons of knowledge, but acts like an ordinary person — even as you and I! Tke Continued from page 21 The situation is symbolic of Hollywood at the present moment. Although the Forbeses have made up their differences, the rest of the town is an armed camp. Each day brings some new and startling development in the wake of stage players crowding to the fore. They have taken the Coast by storm. Their doings make the front pages of the newspapers. John Gilbert even married one of them, Ina Claire, three weeks after they met. This is significant of the Battle of the Accents hysteria which prevails in the film colony. No wonder Joan Crawford took young Doug to New York for their marriage ceremony. With stage sirens of all ages cluttering up the erstwhile Eden of the screen, the place is no longer safe for susceptible and bedazzled picture stars of the male persuasion. Hollywood is no longer a happy hunting ground for interviewers, either. Their feud with the stars dates from the ushering in of the new order. It is the thing now to highhat the humble fan scribe, once fed and tenderly nourished, before the infant industry learned to talk. There is one hope for embroiled Hollywood. Maybe Henry Ford will drop his scrap with his greatest competitor long enough to think up a plan to get our boys and girls out of the trenches before Christmas. Otherwise it looks as though we are in for a Seven Years' War. THE GREAT TEACHER The old town's changed ; they ain't no more Swappin' tales at the grocery store, Pitchin' quoits, er huskin' bees, Quiltin' parties, er social teas. No barn dances when the hayin's done, Er country fairs ; but there's much more fun, 'Cause every night sees the hull town go To the Palace movin' picture show. Sure the old town's changed sence the movies come. 'Lectricity now — that's goin' some ! Got the streets marked out, and the women they Dress in style like the folks in the play. Got a public square like the one we seen In a movie piece, right on the screen. Oh, the mayor an' councilmen they ain't slow ! Study civic reform at the picture show! Harold Seton.