Picture-Play Magazine (Sep 1928 - Feb 1929)

51 A Modest Chap Cornelius Keefe disdains the usual interviews and puffs, but here is a story that tells what kind of young man he is. B? Myrtle Gebkart IF this were an interview with Cornelius Keefe, I might know how to start it. As it isn't, I don't. There won't be any repartee, any searching analyses, nor will any deep dreams be revealed. I shall not present to you a noble hero. In the first place, he isn't ; and secondly, if I made too much of him, Con would thereafter be courteous toward me, with that careful politeness that is a greater rebuke than a thousand outbursts. I should not want him to be polite that way. This boy of twenty-five or so, who within a year has become known to the fans, and very popular in Hollywood, has distinctive qualities. He has certain ideas that are inflexible. He has not yet learned to separate personal convictions from certain necessities of a career. The stubbornness of youth will not make concessions, nor admit itself in error. After scoring a hit on the New York stage and on the road, in "The Poor Nut," he was brought West to play in the picture and has worked almost continuously since. During his first nine months in Hollywood, he established a record by playing leads in ten films. He is young and of engaging personality. But he presents a problem rare in Hollywood — he honestly does not believe in much publicity. Yes, yes, you've heard that before. I have — and then listened for hours while they talked. Peculiarly, Con means it. He has refused to give four requested interviews. "A bit of news in the papers about the picture is fine, so the producers will know there's another ham actor in town." This is his stand. "But suppose lovely young ladies, or clever young men. come to interview an actor. Most of the things they say sound sappy. Such expressions as 'a clean-cut young man— devoted to his mother — an athletic hero' — blah ! And if not blah, they aren't things to be publicized. When I reach the point where there is something to say about my work, that will be different." Once, some years ago, before interviews became more candid, he read an article about an actor whom he greatly admired. It said something sweet about the lad among his roses in his garden. Con quit reading fan magazines then, and it is only recently that he has been persuaded to look at one, and made to realize that "gooey" praise is passe. To a friend, who was lecturing him on his attitude, he said one day, "There's nothing to say about my youth. What does it matter where I went to school, what sports I played, how many lickings I got, whether I lived at home, or what I did in an ordinary, normal boyhood ? If I had run away and sailed before the mast, or clone anything adventurous, that would be different. When there's no story, why try to make one out of commonplaceness? And now, I want to stand on the merit of my work, which speaks for itself, good or bad." During his first nine months in Hollywood, Mr. Keefe established a record by playing leads in ten films. That, ladies and gentlemen, is Cornelius Keefe, a lad who consistently disdains certain gestures which are part and parcel of an actor's career, and yet you must respect •him for his views. Anything else pertaining to his work is carefully considered. He is conscientiously studious of the screen, and spends several evenings a week at the movies. He will see a John Gilbert, an Emil Jannings, a Charlie Murray, or a Jack Mulhall film over and over, poring over certain scenes and bits of technique. These represent to him varied forms of acting. His own pictures he reviews constantly, conjecturing, "If I had done that so-and-so, would it have been better ? Boy ! what a boob I made of myself there I Pack up and get out, you razzberry !" He will wax eloquent along this line : "It's all a matter of dollars and cents ! Play your role as earnestly and as well as you can. Make that bozo, whoever he is, seem real, but manage your career as if you were in the commercial world. ■ I'm giving myself three years. If by then I don't click, and make such-and-such an amount. I'm going to quit and go back to selling bonds again." He shakes a pencil at you when he says this, his very deep-set, brown eyes looking earnest. I believe he has talked himself into thinking he means it. But he will follow over town some picture that he has missed, and he's boy enough to be thrilled by Westerns and Northwest Mounted Police yarns. Continued on page 106