Picture-Play Magazine (Sep 1926 - Feb 1927)

87 Uncensored Observations Delving into the puzzling yet magnetic personality of Jetta Goudal. By William H. McKegg HALF past five — more than thirty minutes had passed since Jetta Goudal had informed me over the phone that she would be at the studio "dans un petit quart d'heurc." Six o'clock— after having wandered about C. B.'s lot, I had traipsed back to the entrance hall. A constant stream of players and executives coming from the sets made the place overcrowded. It was certainly no suitable spot for a star to make an effective entrance. But Miss Goudal did. For suddenly, floating over the general noise, came a quiet, throbbing voice, "Ah ! — I have kept you waiting so long." Now, Goudal speaks the most beautiful Oxford English I have ever heard from a foreigner. Her French is spoken in clear, decisive tones. There are no hand-and-arm gestures when Jetta lapses into French — but then, nervousness of any kind is something Goudal has not got. She can do more with vocal tones than with all the wild gesticulating in the world. Although her remark was meant only for me and was spoken quietly, her tonal effect of every one in the hallway. Photo by Harold Dean Uarsey Jetta Goudal has an uncanny way of unconsciously arresting the attention of all who see her, yet remains quietly indifferent to her power. arrested the attention William Boyd, about to say hello to some one, got as far as the first syllable, remained open-mouthed, and turned in the direction of the voice. Theodore Kosloff, rushing home, looked back and walked into the screen door instead of opening it as, of course, you always must do. Even the great De Mille stopped halfway upstairs and smiled down upon the transfixed assembly. Miss MacPherson, coming down from her office, wondered what it was all about and glanced from one person to another until her eyes caught sight of Goudal. Jetta advanced, glided forward rather, her slender, straight figure swathed in a black satin cloak. A large black hat accentuated the paleness of her face. One slim hand, with an exquisite gesture, unfastened the collar of the cloak, permitting it to fall open. The top of the dress beneath was revealed — a splash of dazzling scarlet — the color of which matched Goudal's lips. She kept her exposed THOUGH PROBABLY ALL of the players have secret sides to their natures, there are a certain few whose compJex or unusual personalities render them particu= larly puzzling. Some months ago, the author of this article wrote for "Picture=Play" some "uncensored observations" which did much to= ward penetrating into the inner character of the much=discussed Pola Negri. He now offers similar side lights on the enigmatical Jetta Goudal. ing?" I replied, but true, if you hand in such a position as to show her brightly polished finger nails. Artistic hands ! Everything about Jetta draws attention, yet she reveals no outward sign of vanity. You feel sure of this. Her entire demeanor is one of calm indifference, coolness and superiority. Whereas Negri radiates a dominating personality, Goudal maintains a mysterious in-drawing power — a trick achieved, I think, when she first came to earth, many thousand years ago, in Egypt. She is an adept at winning you over. No matter how annoyed or irritated you may feel, as soon as she appears, you think as she does. So when she approached me and said, "I do hope you did not mind waitWhy, of course not !" which was a lie et what I mean. No one can ever know Jetta Goudal. Her mind is like a mirror of the universe, reflecting whatever we think we see flashing on its surface, but puzzling us the more with each varvins? mood.