Picture Play Magazine (Sep 1928 - Feb 1929)

22 OK, TKose Hollywood Parties! Our reporter attends one, with unexpected results. One of the objects of the Thalians, who gave the party, is to help potential writers find themselves. WHEN you go to Hollywood you think, of course, "Well, now maybe I'll see one of those famous wild parties we hear so much about." Every time you're invited out at night, you go hopefully. You say to yourself, "At last ! Perhaps this will turn out to be an orgy." And so I went to a party given by the Thalians. You don't know who they are, of course. I didn't, either. In fact, in all the stories I had ever heard about Hollywood, no one ever told me a word about the Thalians. And if you've never heard of the Thalians, then some one has been holding out on you. First I'll gently break it to you about them, and then I'll tell you about their party. Well, the Thalians is — or should it be are? — a club composed of the younger set among our actors and actresses, those of about Wampas-baby-star age, in their late teens and early twenties. In February, 1926, the club was organized by Leonard Smith, a publicity expert. And they decided to call themselves the Thalians, after the Greek muse of drama. One of their brighter minds then discovered that Thalia was really the muse of comedy, but that was quite all right. The name still fits. The club is partly social. The members meet every two weeks and have fun. But, also, the club has ideals. And very noble ones, too. For the club is quite boy scout in its purpose. The idea is to extend a helping hand to struggling extras, writers, and others who insist upon joining the starving ■ ranks of those trying to get into the movies. An extra who has struggled along and feels, as every extra does, that all he needs to make good is the chance to strut his stuff before a director, will be able to apply to the Thalians. If their committee in charge of such things passes upon him, or her, then a screen test is taken and shown before a group of directors. This is all very noble, though frankness compels me to tell you that, so far, most directors have not taken the Thalians quite, quite seriously. And writers who feel that they have talent, as all would-be writers do, can show examples of their work to the committee. If the work seems to show promise, then something will be done to help the writer. "What?" I asked Leonard Smith, who is still their publicity expert. Well, it seems they're not quite sure just what could be done to help a writer. Have a professor give lectures, or something. "But suppose," I said, "the writer lives, say, in Peoria. How can he attend the lectures ?" "I guess we'd have to bring him here to Hollywood." "And then what, if he didn't make good?" "I don't know. Would we have to send him back home again, do you think?" So it's going to be a little complicated when writers apply for assistance, for potential writers need more than a chance to make good. The poor things, unfortunately, are accustomed to need food and a bed during the years they are acquiring skill. But the Thalians, if a little vague, a little impractical, are at least helpful in their motives. They're not rich enough, yet, to carry out these noble ideas ; they're saving money from dues, to build a club house, with a stage where actors can perform and find, it is hoped, an enthusiastic director in the audience. Or anyhow, a director. You have to be connected with the movies in order to join the Thalians. They have about eighty-five members. Buddy Rogers belongs, and Sue Carol, Janet Gaynor, Reginald Denny, George Lewis, Lois Moran, Charlie Farrell, Mary Brian, Sally Eilers, Josephine Dunn, Marceline and Alice Day, Marian Nixon, Marjorie Bonner — oh, there are plenty of prominent members. They meet every two weeks — one meeting for business, the other purely social. The one I went to was purely social. And "purely" is really a very appropriate word. This Thalian party was given at the home of Jack Donovan, who has made lots of money building and