Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Jul 1929)

46 Gone Are Her Languors It's a far cry from the poetic "Beggar Maid," her first film, to "The Woman from Hell," her latest. many others, I believed what I read. How many dollars we spent, studying make-up and supposed dramatics ! "To tide us over, and to educate me, mother obtained a position as a teacher of elocution in a private school. Her salary paid for my tuition." The cold cream was by now all wiped off, and a thin layer of pink grease paint was being patted over the Astor's features. "Then the great event came," Mary continued, turning the shades of the electric lights above the dressing table to afford more illumination on her face. "A magazine contest was being conducted in New York. The winner would get a five-year contract, or something, and much publicity. There was only one thing to do. We scraped up enough to get the three of us to New York. "I had photographs taken, and sent some in. I was one of the first eight winners. At tea one day we met Charles Albin, the artist. He said he'd like to photograph me, and would I sit for him? Of course, mention of the contest was made. Mr. Albin saw some of the pictures I had submitted. 'Terrible,' he said. 'They're nothing like the pictures you should have had.' "Until Mr. Albin's portraits were finished, I didn't know that proper lighting could do so many wonderful things to a person. I hardly knew his pictures were of me. The editor of the magazine saw them. 'That settles it,' he remarked, with grand decision. 'She wins right now.' "Another celebration was justified. I think we each ordered a steak on that occasion. But — another girl was given first prize, and poor Mary was handed only a gold medal as winner of the second prize. I still have that medal. I keep it as a memento." Miss Astor can laugh — not that superficial giggle, nor the mechanical "number six" expression of the movies, but a smile that radiates with humor. She laughed now, as she recalled her failure to win the contest. "By plugging away after work, I was eventually chosen to play in a series of artistic films — rather interesting, little stories written around famous paintings. The first was 'The Beggar Maid,' Sir Edward Burne-Jones' canvas. Reginald Denny was the leading man. There was also "The Young Painter," based on Rembrandt's masterpiece. Pierre Gendron was the hero of that. Watts' 'Hope' was the other I made — don't I look a freak!" Miss Astor had just coated her face with white powder and, indeed, looked like nothing on earth. "Well, not much happened after that. I was under contract to Paramount for six months, but never got anything to do. I played a small part with Gareth Hughes, in "Sentimental Tommy," but the entire sequence was cut out. "To add to our depression those artistic pictures failed to get a release. They got tied up in some way. I was pretty much discouraged. Then I found work in a picture which took me to Canada. On my first evening back in New York, I went to see a play. Just as I came up from the subway n,ear the Rivoli Theater, I faced MARY ASTOR, in 'THE BEGGAR MAID' — all in electrics! "It was a good thing mother was behind to prop me up, for without doubt I would have fallen down into the subway again. That was my first great thrill. I'll never forget it." Miss Astor carefully brushed off the superfluous powder, leaving on her face a thin mask of make-up. Deftly she touched up her eyes, all with the nonchalant ease that comes lips and from long practice. The phone rang. Her maid informed the caller that Miss Astor would be on the set very shortly. Whereupon the star said, "I'll have to chase you out while I get into my costume. I'll meet you on the set in a few minutes." I was shooed out, and went to "hell" — that is, the set built for Miss Astor's new picture, "The Woman from Hell." The rest of Mary's screen history is well known to the fans, for she has had a following ever since she appeared with John Barrymore, in "Beau Brummel" and "Don Juan." Then followed her contract with First National. "Rose of the Golden West," with Gilbert Roland, was very romantic, but that was all. Even in that Mary had to faint among the folds of her billow ing silks. Miss Astor revolted against playing "dumb" roles. She wanted something with a little more naturalness in it. Her contract had expired. Mary hied herself to the golf course. Sol Wurtzel, general superintendent of the Fox atelier, was also giving a little time to golf that day. "I'm looking for a job," Mary bluntly stated, without any diplomatic reserve, when Wurtzel asked what she was doing. "There's a picture about to go into production over at our place," he said, "but I don't think it is a part you'd care to play. It's entirely different from anything you've ever done. It's a crook picture." [Continued on page 119]