Picture-Play Magazine (1933)

Maureen Laughs It Off 39 Photo by Wiili> World wood's pet aim this many a day. No one knew for sure whether their liking for each other was merely a pleasant neighborly friendship or a flaming passion. Hollywood is still guessing — wrong. John Farrow, an Australian of European upbringing, is famed for his many gallantries. He is also famed for overstaying his time in the United States. A year and a half ago, he had to leave the country to conform with governmental regulations where visiting aliens are concerned. Johnny's departure for London was, in a way, a forced exile. He had wanted to remain in Hollywood with Maureen. Maureen was left alone, a state much to her liking. Hollywood declared she had changed considerably. The colony wondered whether the O'Sullivan's new personality had sprung from the pathos of an Elaine ignored by Sir Lancelot. It was wondered if John Farrow had departed for London on account of Maureen's sudden interest in Jimmy Dunn, or whether she had merely accepted Jimmy as her cavalier during Johnny's absence abroad. The pertinent thing is that Maureen did turn glowing eyes of favor on Mr. Dunn. She left her Garden of Allah bungalow and rented a house near the Hollywood Bowl. Her friend, Kay English, shared it with her. "I don't want to be alone any more," Maureen explained when I visited her rustic retreat. She was reclining in a garden chair, hands behind her head. Thick foliage broke off the strong sunlight. Small circles of golden light filtered through the green branches, playing over the sprite's body. "It's so peaceful here," she murmured, "so quiet." Her conclusions were a little premature, as you shall see. One night we sought a suitable film. After driving up and down Hollywood Boulevard a dozen times, we finally decided on Warner's Theater. I think the film was "Big City Blues," with Eric Linden ; I'm not sure, but I do know that the O'Sullivan was a stunning knockout ! She wore a cerulean blue suit with trousers, and a skullcap to match. "I don't know why I bought it," Maureen remarked, referring to her boyish ensemble as we later walked into a drug store to purchase a lipstick — for her. Had she, I wondered then, had her feminine pride hurt? And had she, for revenge, adopted a masculine armor against Hollywood? Trousers or no trousers, Jimmy Dunn danced attendance on her. He was working late that night, and Maureen decided that we should drive out to the Fox studio to see him. Then she changed her mind. "It might make Jimmy jealous." Which seemed the oddest surmise. Even the rural peace she had hoped to get turned tail on her. Instead of serenity, it took on a bedlam atmosphere when the Bowl emptied itself of summer music lovers. Highland Avenue was crowded with cars and people. Once, between ten and eleven. Maureen drove me all around Hollywood until the crowds dispersed, for there was only a one-way entrance to her sylvan villa. "Everything goes wrong!" she exclaimed fretfully, lighting a cigarette and regarding it vacantly. "Oh, nothing turns out as I expect it to!" I like to imagine I understand her better than most That John Farrow is too worldly for her is emphatically denied by Maureen. And Dame Hoi lywood waits for a chance to croak, "I warned you! ' people. Maureen often refutes this fond hope and waves aside my self-asserted X-raying powers. "It's terrible to think you must go through life alone without even a single soul to understand you," she said quietly, as though the cigarette had given her Delphic knowledge of her own sad plight. It was not silly ; it was not "ham" talking. When Maureen speaks like this, she is deadly serious. She does not essay to look mysterious or unearthly. "Glamour is stupid and artificial," she continued. "I'm not the glamorous type. I couldn't be even if I tried. I'd much rather have charm." And charm is what the O'Sullivan has. A certain kind of charm that makes her entirely different from the rest of Hollywood's ingenues. This charm has become more pronounced as her career has advanced. At the beginning of the year, John Farrow returned to Hollywood, reentering the country in the Rumanian quota. His extraordinary manner of reentry troubled Hollywood not at all. What did worry the Old Woman was the fact that he would again be in close proximity to Maureen. And just when fate had seemed to have stepped in so nicely, separating them ! But fate appeared to be on Hollywood's side again. For the department of labor threatened to deport John Farrow. He admitted before a Federal grand jury that he had made false statements in an alien registration permit, bur refuted any criminal intent. Poor Johnny ! The charge was canceled and the court placed him on probation for five years. Toasts were drunk, bells were rung, and thanksgiving made in the O'Sullivan abode. She feasted the Rumanian consul and his family in true Irish manner, with Johnny Farrow as guest of honor. Reunion in Hollywood took place. Once again Maureen and Johnny became inseparable. Old Woman Hollywood groaned afresh, starting new rumors about the twain. She is still under the conviction that Mr. Farrow was the cause of some awful metamorphosis in Maureen. The old dame likes to believe she knows what it is. She has been longing for a chance to point a bony finger at Maureen and croak, "I told you so ! I warned you !" That chance will never come. For Hollywood reckons without the O'Sullivan herself, the great-grandniece of Daniel O'Connell, the Irish leader who in his time caused even the English to stop, look, and listen "Johnny is the only one who really understands me." Maureen told me regarding her disputed friendship with the gallant young fella. "He's so understanding \ He has such a wonderful humor. He is educated, traveled. It is a delight to be in his company. [Continued on page 58]