Picture-Play Magazine (1933)

What the Fans Think 13 please explain why interviewers must take a dig at him in every Stanwyck interview ? This certainly wins no favor with Barbara. One of these days when Frank Fay turns the lucky corner to success, a mob of Hollywood scribblers will have to form a mutual consolation society because Fay will refuse them interviews. And I hope he does, too. They deserve it. Frances M. Rice. 433 Edgar Road, Webster Groves, Missouri, Jean, Joan, and Venus. A TEXAS high-school girl wishes to defend two of her favorites who were so cattily slammed in "What the Fans Think." There is something seriously wrong with any one who says that cute little devil, James Cagney, is an unpleasant rowdy. And one who says that the glamorous Jean Harlow is a would-be actress is merely a would-be normal person. As for the question whether or not Jean has large hips, feature such a break with every one starving and exercising to mold herself along the Harlow lines. I've seen many pictures of her taken from the front and she has a figure — including hips — that would make Venus want to hide. As for the "dying-cat" look which Wym Faux so absurdly complained of, it is very becoming. Should she look as if she were actually face to face with the horrible monster in "Frankenstein" or were caught helpless in a burning building? And why does every one pick on Joan Crawford? Who could help but admire any one with such ability and patience to rise from the awkward, uncultured Lucille LaSueur to the present unforgetable Joan Crawford? And what beautiful large eyes she has! Don't squint, Joan, just because some foolish, jealous person says your eyes are too big. A Bastrop Fan. Bastrop, Texas. Here's Looking at Them! HAVING lived in Los Angeles the greater part of my life, I've naturally had opportunity to see many of the stars in the flesh. Perhaps the fans would be interested in my impressions of some of them : Jean Harlow, very beautiful and unaffected. In real life she is a far cry from the hard and brittle creature she appears to be on the screen. Edmund Lowe is caught riddling one of Lilyan's ultra-sophisticated wisecracks. Edmund Lowe, distinguished for his sartorial perfection and perfect grooming, looks exactly the same on and off the screen. Norma Shearer, very plain and drablooking. She has hundreds of prototypes all over the country. Hasn't even one redeeming feature. Betty Compson, one of the most beautiful and friendly girls in Hollywood. Always has a smile for every one. Charles Morton, by far the handsomest man in Hollywood or anywhere else. With a few decent breaks he could show Gable, Montgomery, and Novarro a few things about acting. Lilyan Tashman, beautiful but cold and glittering. Hers is the beauty of artificiality. Constance Bennett, the most overrated actress in Hollywood. Not the least bit good-looking and at times she appears actually dowdy. Some one should teach her how to dress. Ramon Novarro, short, dark, tout a jait Mexican — nothing against him, you understand. There are hundreds of barbers and tamale sellers who have*rfr»all over him for looks. Blanche Sweet, utterly charming, beautiful voice. Not in the least affected. Barry Norton, striking in appearance, but only when carefully groomed. George Ferris. 12 O'Dell Square, Salem, Massachusetts. As to Valentino's Spirit ALL this saint stuff about Valentino, Novarro, or any one else, makes me tired. We fans who still remember and like Valentino know perfectly well that he was a human being with plenty of human faults — thank goodness ! He also had some equally human virtues. But I hardly dare mention this less I be accused of making a saint of him ! Just what do we know of the real Valentino, especially in the spirit world, if there is such a thing? There are some people who claim that he has spoken to them comfortingly and tenderly. Goofy? Perhaps. But, after all, what do we really know about it? No spirit of any kind has ever spoken or appeared to me, but because it has never happened to me does not prove that it cannot happen to another person. Though, frankly, I do not believe in it. There is entirely too much of this cocksure intolerance on the part of smartAlecks who think that those who do not agree with them must, of course, be altogether wrong. More sympathetic understanding and kindly tolerance would help a lot to make life easier and more pleasant in the movies and elsewhere. Violet Rand. Wissahickon Heights, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Has Hollywood An Accent? THANK Heaven I am neither Southerner nor Northerner, that I can by right claim no special intonation ; no drawl so cruelly maligned and overemphasized by the North, no clipped precision wrongly called "biting" by the South. Being neutral, I try to be impartial. I liked "Kentucky's" reply in the July issue. I think "Mississippi" in the September number makes herself ridiculous. There's no resemblance between a mad honey bee and a Yankee voice. It seems to me that instead of being a discussion of movies and stars "What the Fans Think" is turning into a debate on "Resolved that Southern voices are preferable to Northern." Really, when you come down to it, the screen never gives you either Southern or Northern accents. Even in its best efforts it is a language separate and apart. So why not accept it as that and forget this prolonged bickering? The Northern accent is perfect in the North. The Southern should stay South. Each is the keynote of certain traits. if you don't like them leave them alone. Speech in Hollywood is mellowed in sunshine and sharpened by instruction until it is not representative of any accent. "Stan Di si i." Honolulu, T. H. An Old Fan Game. WELL, well, if Agatha is supposed to be an old maid just because she happens to get a thrill out of Clark Gable, then all the other adoring female Gablefans must be old maids, too. But, honestly, the ones I saw attending the theater where one of Gable's pictures was playing certainly didn't look it. I'd swear that most of 'em were between sixteen and twenty-five. How do you account for that, Henrietta and Abigail? The menacing Gable grin has no real rival yet. So you prefer pretty little boys to hemen ! Well, there's no accounting for tastes. Anyway, it doesn't take much to thrill you. You sound like a couple of old grandmothers to me. Well, keep on knitting. I'll go take a look at Gable and get thrilled. Seventeen. _ Buffalo, New York. Smile, Joan, Smile! I HAVE been a reader of "What the Fans Think" for years, and am at last moved to shove my opinion in front of the readers even at the risk of being panned by those who will doubtless disagree with me. Perhaps as many will agree with me. I want to know why a star will work years to build up a set of ideas about herself, and then, having achieved popularity, deliberately set about discarding all that which has won the public's interest. Take Joan Crawford, for instance. She came into our hearts as a whoopee girl, a regular fellow, one of the gang. Her dancing feet, her pranks, and her laughter won us. And now her tragic eyes gaze at us from our movie magazines. I haven't seen a smiling picture for ages. She doesn't seem to dance or laugh or to be one of us any more. She has gone highbrow, has become too tragic for comfort. I realize that she can't be a gay child all her life, but isn't this sudden change a little abrupt? We liked her in gay. laughing, dancing pictures. We would still like her in those pictures — if we had a chance. Joan Crawford was my favorite star — and she still is. I'll probably go on liking her no matter what she does. N. Rouse. Box 264, Salem, Missouri. Continued on page 62