Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Jul 1929)

48 The Second Ruth Chatterton, distinguished on the stage, brought to the screen by talking pictures, and "The Doctor's Secret" with a revival of the Bv El Photo by Richee Ruth Chatterton disdained a munificent offer to appear in films some years ago, never dreaming that this year would find her acclaimed by the fans. AFTER all's said and done, we have sound pictures to thank for many things. They have brought new and varied experiences to the humdrum pleasure of moviegoing. And they are proving the greatest stimulus the picture industry has ever had, although that stimulus has caused havoc and confusion which have virtually turned Hollywood inside out. All is topsy-turvy. Everything and everybody seems to be talking or singing at once. The most silent place in the world has suddenly become a babel. Through it all, the mechanical developments of sound pictures are racing toward the goal of a highly perfected technique for the thousands of voices that are waiting to be heard. Progress is a lightning swiftness. One scarcely recovers from the shock of a bad talking opus, before the thrill of a very fine one is provided. There is the terrific urge of what might be termed a renaissance in the colony — a renaissance that has closed the era of silent pictures, and flung open wide a veritable Valhalla of sound, and with it, new personalities. Ruth Chatterton is one of the most engaging of these new personalities. She has come directly from the stage — half of her life has been spent behind the footlights — and she has had no film experience other than having refused a magnificent offer six years ago. Her success has been immediate. It all came about in "The Doctor's Secret," William DeMille's first venture za in sound films for Paramount. The role she portrayed was a young English society woman. She imbued it with grace and charm and style and proved completely her possession of that triple entente extraordinaire, a definite screen personality, predominant in magnetic appeal — -"It" we used to say in the old* days — a lovely, flexible voice, and undeniable gifts of acting. Metro-Goldwyn, after viewing and hearing her work, forthwith borrowed her for the big, emotional role of Madame X, which they are remaking as an all-dialogue picture, and Lubitsch is planning to engage her for his next production. So in the vernacular of the show world, she is getting the breaks. Pauline Frederick was the screen's first Madame X, but that was when pictures were silent. It was her most striking role, and established her as a popular idol. Now Ruth Chatterton comes to the screen as the second and younger Madame X, and as one who speaks. Perhaps it is fateful for her that her first potent dramatic role should be one that is of almost perennial appeal for audiences. There never was a more sympathetic character on the screen or stage than the tragic mother who was condemned to die, but was saved from the guillotine by her son — the young attorney who pleads her case — unknown to him, and from whom she had been separated since babyhood. Perhaps it means the start of a new career for Miss Chatterton, as it did for Pauline Frederick, who also came to pictures from the stage. Miss Frederick has added her chapter to the history of the silent screen ; Miss Chatterton makes her film debut at the propitious moment when new screen history is in the making. She represents the type of actress we may often see during these first milestones of sound pictures. In her type are crystallized the attributes that sound films demand— intelligence, voice, personality, and acting ability. Physical beauty henceforth will not be the prime requisite of the new art. Both the eye and the ear, from now on, must be appealed to. It is inevitable that there will be changes in the general personnel of the screen. These are already taking place. I visited Miss Chatterton one afternoon during the making of "Madame X." It was the second or third time I had seen her to talk with, other than exchanging brief greetings at musical events, which she regularly attends. Like many stage players, she often visits the theater. But opera, concerts, recitals — these engross her when she tires of the theater. The first time I had met her was at dinner at Emil and Gussie Tannings' hospitable "Berlin und Hamburg" board. One of those gay, cosmopolitan evenings never to be confused with a convention of the English-speaking Union. But — that is quite another story. She had just been engaged by Paramount as "the other woman" in Emil's picture, "Sins of ;the Fathers."