Picture Play Magazine (Sep 1926 - Feb 1927)

23 A Man Who Kept His Head Victor Varconi did not run away to go onto the stage, nor has he at any critical point in his career allowed himself to be carried away by emotion. He has won success by reasoning things out. By William H. McKegg MR. VARCONI has studied himself to such a degree that he has developed a technique which permits a frictionless performance. He is never abnormal ; he is never strenuous in his gestures ; he never uses exaggerated facial expressions. His is the art of repression developed to a fine degree. His acting is smooth — always of the mind, never of the body." Thus spake the great De Mille, a little more than two years ago, after Victor Varconi had quietly appeared at the old Lasky lot on Vine Street, and commenced work in "Triumph." That a leading director should say such things about a newcomer, whom nobody in Hollywood knew anything about, was surprising. One day, about that time, while Varconi and I were lunching together at a little Hungarian restaurant on the Boulevard, we talked of certain: other foreign stars whose previous approach to the film Mecca had been announced with great fanfares of publicity. "I want to make a place for myself through my own merits,". Varconi slowly stated, in his wellmodulated voice. "If I don't do so right now, I shall eventually. Too much publicity before you have shown what you can do makes the public expect more than an actor can sometimes give. It is not always his fault, either, that this is so. The first parts assigned him might not appeal to the majority. I would rather rise up from secondary roles than fall down to them." Now any film actor will tell you that, next to gaining your first chance in pictures the hardest thing in the entire business is to win the role that will get you over to the fans. Valentino "got over" in "The Four Horsemen." John Gilbert "got over" in Mrs. Glyn's pictures. And thus it goes. Although Varconi won notice in that first film with De Mille and in various pictures that followed, he somehow just did not "get over." Instead of growling at Hollywood for not recognizing an actor when she had one, Varconi bided his time. He always uses his mind, reasoning things out — and by this method, whatever he wants, he usually gets ! I always found him a most congenial chap, rather reluctant, though, to speak about himself in a personal manner. I always had to take him unawares, and it never did to show too keen an interest. Occasionally, various events in his earlier life used to float to me across a lunch table, through a haze of cigarette smoke — vignettes piercing the nebulous veil of the past. If the smoke became too thin, Varconi could see how intently I was lis As he appeared in "Silken Shackles," one of his most recent releases. Photo by Rayhuff-Richter Though Varconi's first essay into American films, a few years ago, was not as successful as it might have been, he bided his time. tening. Laughing, he would branch from talking about himself and ask me what I intended doing the following day. What I found out, from time to time, was this: A few years before the war, a young boy in Budapest, walking home from school, often passed the famous National Theater. This smiling, dark haired, dark-eyed youth, answering to the name of Varkonyi, was soon to leave the gymnasium and start on a career. He had reached that adolescent age which makes young boys want either to write poetry, run away from home and go to sea, fall in love, or — -and this is what he wanted — to act ! This desire to act obsessed Varconi's mind so much that he then and there vowed that he would act — at the National Theater, too ! His father heard the sad news. To act? How stupid ! No, our Victor would join the large insurance company in Budapest. He would be a very lucky boy to have such a position, as it took influence to get into such a big firm. ; Now, as. the old story goes, Victor should then have decamped and joined some obscure;