Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Aug 1927)

56 A Boulevard peripatetic comments on some of the little ironies of Hollywood life By Carroll Graham Illustrations by Lui Trugo I HAVE never yet heard the Vitaphone. Moreover, I have read nothing with all the emotion which has made her a great star) — Damn ! And he was filthy with money, too. explaining methods of operation. This, I feel, should not prevent me from discoursing on the subject. I am told that Warner Brothers do not intend to attempt talking pictures, for the present at least. This is a shame. The possibilities would be tremendous. Think of a Vitaphone production recording not only the lines spoken by the actors, but the swearing of the director, the clatter of vases dropped by the property man, the snoring of the gag men, and the voice of the producer abusing the production manager off stage. Think of a Vitaphone production with Pauline Garon, who possesses a rumbling bass worthy of any Welsh chorus, playing a coy ingenue opposite Raymond Griffith, who converses in whispers. Think of the dialogues our average scenarists and directors would devise ! This is where the real entertainment awaits us. Let us imagine a scene from a typical society drama — any picture with Gloria Swanson, Adolphe Menjou, Corinne Griffith, ct al. The picture deals with the inner circle of the Four Hundred. Jack Hemingzvay, the hero, scion of a wealthy family, a Yale graduate, goes to the apartment of Adolphe Andiron, man-abouttown, and there finds his fiancee, Tessie Therapy, debutante, in Adolphe' s embrace. Jack (bursting in door) — What the hell! Tessie (disentangling herself) — My Gawd, it's Jack! Adolphe (apprehensively) — Don't hit me with that bottle, you big bum. Jack (in emotional fury) — What's comin' off here? Sing out, or I'll knock you both for a loop ! Tessie (acting mightily, with the good-girl expression on her face) — There's nothing wrong. I've had only three drinks. Jack (stamping toward the door) — You corn-fed hussy, I oughta break your nose for you. (Poses dramatically, and exits.) Adolphe '.(leering-) — Thank Heaven, that big brow is gone ! Tessie (sinking into chair and sobbing The visit of H. L. Mencken to Hollywood has shattered my illusions about the Baltimore Oracle, and proved that he is quite as susceptible to the movies, and particularly the movie gals, as his friend Joseph Hergesheimer. Hergesheimer, you may remember, visited here some time ago and later wrote a series of fatuous articles about such movie stars as he chanced to meet, dwelling at length on a game of dominoes he played with Aileen Pringle. I have never played dominoes with Miss Pringle, but the game Hergesheimer described can't be the one 1 learned as a child. While Mencken was in town, Hergesheimer came West again, probably to help the critic with his dominoes, and the newspapers printed a picture of the novelist at the train, being vigorously kissed by Anita Loos, with Miss Pringle and Mencken waiting in line. The critic was waiting, I prefer to hope, merely to shake the novelist's hand. In any event, Miss Pringle is death on visiting authors. Sadakichi Hartmann, after several meetings, dedicated a book to her. Hergesheimer sang her praises. Now Mencken will doubtless devote to her considerable space in his magazine, a publication never before regarded as an outlet for movie publicity. There is an open-hearted and disarming frankness with which the Of all the screen sufferers, Ralph Lewis, James Kirkivood and Lillian Gish appear to hold the record. motion-picture industry borrows ideas. Everything — titles, gags, plots, and even names which have acquired prominence — is lifted, but as the practice is general, no one views it askance. Richard Metzetti thought it would help him to borrow a famous name when he be