Coquette (United Artists Pressbook) (1929)

Stories MARY EXPRESSES HER PROGRESS IN CHANGING STYLES OF HAIR 13 — Two-Col. Bobbed Hair Feature (Mat 10c, Cut 50c) MARY PICKFORD, VOICE, AND HER EARLY STAGE DEBUTS Mary Pickford before and after she bobbed her hair to play the title part in “Coquette” One of the outstanding experi¬ ences of a woman’s life is the bob¬ bing of her hafr. Seldom has this step been taken with entire confidence in the result, and regardless of her poise it is a rare woman indeed who first feels the cold steel of a barber’s shears on the back, of her neck without feeling an attendant sinking of the heart. Consider then, the case of a young woman whose hair, perhaps more than any woman in all his¬ tory, has been her crowning glory. One morninf about a year ago in New York City, a shy winsome personality with a small and wist¬ ful smile, not unmindful of the fact that the entire world was interested in her slightest activity, walked out of her hotel alone, hailed a taxi¬ cab, and proceeded to a well-known coiffeur’s establishment just off Fifth Avenug^in the Fifties. Peo¬ ple watchedher as she emerged from the hotel to the cab. More people gathered and whispered in the fleeting moment when she left the cab to enter the shop. Less than an hour later she walked down Fifth Avenue in the mid-morning shopping crowds ad¬ mired but unrecognized. Back in the coiffeur’s shop lay the world’s most famous curls. You njiay by now have guessed that the young woman in this story is none other than Mary Pickford famed for her golden curls - and poor-little-girl roles, was trimmed now to appear on the screen as “Coquette,” the sparkling, bobbed¬ haired modern belle who wins men’s hearts with a smile—who de¬ fies family and convention for love. The famous young actress, whose film roles heretofqre have generally been .of the almost juvenile type, has, with a sweep of the scissors, plunged herself abruptly into the mood of an intensely dramatic con¬ temporary social crisis. The new Mary Pickford is dis¬ tinguished, first of all, bV a short, wind-blown bob. Her slim figure is cloaked in the latest Parisian modes. Her eyes have an irresist¬ ible lure for men. Her manner takes on the electrifying technique of the flapper. The Mary Pickford of “Polly- anna” was a shy, smiling and slightly coy young girl. The Mary Pickford of “Coquette,” the poig¬ nant Broadway drama, is a deftly alluring young woman who attracts all men, loves but one, and who flirts her way into a situation which changes her spirit of humor and challenge into one of sacrifice and despair. How she solves it will be seen— and heard—when Mary Pickford appears next week on the screen of the.theatre in this city. A Wistful Little Girl Who Spoke Her Lines Clearly and Music¬ ally into a Darkened Auditorium Unafraid—Then Was Gladys Smith—Brought Back to the Broadway Stage a Second Time for Her Talent and Superb Elocution. MP—3 a—One-Col. New Star Head (Mat 5 c, Cut 30c) By DAVID BELASCO YOUR HOME TOWN ROSTER Albany, N. Y. —Cora Palmatier, who served as script clerk for “Co¬ quette,” was born and educated here. She is a graduate of the Al¬ bany Business College. Boston, Mass. —This is the birth¬ place of Phyllis Crane, who adds a note of youth and pep to the picture as the. little flapper, Betsy. Cleveland, O. —Home town of Bruce, “Lucky” Humberstone, the assistant director for “Coquette.” “Lucky” is a graduate of East High School. Cincinnati, O. —Louise Beavers, who plays the little coquette’s dark- skinned southern mammy, claims Cincinnati as her birthplace. County Meath, Ireland — Here Matt Moore was born and spent the first eight years of his life. Mr. Moore plays Stanley Wentworth, the faithful family friend in “Co¬ quette.” Dothan, Ala. —John Mack Brown, who plays the little coquette’s mountain lover, claims Dothan as his birthplace. Johnny is a grad¬ uate of the Dothan High School and of the University of Alabama. Elkhart, Ind. —David Forrest, the sound recording engineer who di¬ rected the sound apparatus for the all-talking version of “Coquette,” was born in Elkhart. Hollywood, Calif. —William Jan- ney, who furnishes much of the youthful comedy in “Coquette,” as Miss Pickford’s younger brother, Jimmy, attended Hollywood High School. Newark, N. J. —Eighteen-year- old Joe Depew, one of the mem¬ bers of the “Coquette” younger set, hails from Newark. New Orleans, La. —This is the birthplace of John Sainpolis, who plays Dr. Besant, the old-school, southern father of the little co¬ quette. New York City — New York claims as its native sons Director Sam Taylor, William Janney, who plays the younger brother, and G/eorge Irving, the attorney and friend of the little coquette’s father. Pasadena, Calif. —Louise Beavers, who plays Julia, the southern mammy in “Coquette,” is a grad¬ uate of the Pasadena High School. San Diego, Calif. —David For¬ rest, recording engineer for the soilnd version of “Coquette,” was graduated from the San Diego High School and from the University of California. Toledo, O. —Here the Ireland- born Matt Moore attended high school and business college. Toronto, Canada —The “hoi town” of Mary Pickford. “The moving finger writes, and having writ, moves on—” was the quotation which came to, my mind recently when I read the announce¬ ment that Mary Pickford—my little chum—is to take her bow in the talking moving pictures, with “Co¬ quette” as the vehicle. My first meeting with this golden-voiced bit of femininity oc¬ curred during 1907 when I was pre¬ paring to produce my play “The Warrens of Virginia.” I had chosen Frank Keenan and Charlotte Walk¬ er for the leading roles. The next necessity was two children—just the right children—for the role of “Bob” and “Betty.” Here was £ problem indeed, for it was indi¬ cated that the children must be of the Southland, that they must match adequately the characters of the father and mother, and that they must have unusually fine voices. Needed—A Voice Child after child appeared and was rejected until one day the late William Dean, then my assistant, came to me with a note from Blanche Bates, asking me to see a little protege of hers. “She’s a sweet, self-possessed lit¬ tle thing,” he told me, “and has had some tftage experience, though nothing of especial note.” I was waiting in the dark au¬ ditorium the next evening. The sole illumination of the stage was the pilot light—a single brilliant standard incadescent which is kept burning continuously when the re¬ maining lights are off. Soon there was a stir in the wings and I saw Mr. Dean motion the child forward. Her intelligent eyes searched the darkness until she made out my figure in an aisle seat, well for¬ ward. She smiled, thoroughly un¬ perturbed, inclined her head in greeting, and said: “I have memorized some lines from ‘Patsy Poor’ a character in ‘Human Life,’ if you wish to hear them.” And the Child Spoke Then, without further prelim¬ inaries, and with the utmost of self- confidence, the child began voicing the lines. And as she spoke, I mar¬ velled at the clearness of her dic¬ tion, the music of her tones. There was no slurring of consonants, no nervous juncture of words. I had but to close my eyes and imagine myself listening to the clear-cut, well trained voice of some de¬ butante graduate of a fine finishing school. I watched her hands in the glare of the pilot-light, but there was not the slightest evidence of nervous¬ ness. The expressive fingers moved gracefully in time with her ges¬ ticulations. Her eyes bleamed with interest as she entered into the role she was assuming, while each of her changing postures was grace¬ ful in the extreme. I was sincere when I said, “That’s very good,” at the end. She had made a splendid impression under the most trying conditions. I knew then I had found my “Betty Warren,” and I told her to come to the studio the next day. “But what a name for the stage! I exclaimed, when she appeared and announced simply, “I am Gladys Smith.” “Yes, it is pretty terrible, isn’t it?” she asked, laughing merrily after she had settled herself in one of my largest chairs. “But Daddy’s name was ‘Smith’ and Mother chose the ‘Gladys’ part of it- I’m helpless.” “Possibly not as helpless as you think,” I rejoined. “We must find name expressive of your person¬ ality and your £ne voice.” If I could have had a choice, I would have selected ‘Mary,’ for I love that name best of all,” the child replied, “But I do not like 'Marie.' ” ‘Very well,” I replied, “but ‘Mary Smith’ isn’t helping any. We must find a suitable last name, something like ‘Fairfax’ or ‘Tolliver’ or ‘Har¬ din’-” “One of my relatives married a man named ‘Pickford’ ” she sug¬ gested tentatively. “ ‘Mary Pickford,’ ” I ejaculated. It was made to order for you. That is it: the perfect name!” It was thus she was christened in the name which has become so famous throughout the world. She Enchanted Him Already I was under the spell of the child’s winsome personality and remarkably musical Voice, but I be¬ lieve it was the latter quality which attracted me most. There was an indefinable ’cello note in her lower registers, and a flute-like clarity and sweetness in her overtones, which told me beyond the question of a doubt that she would score as the daughter in my play. Master Richard Story also came to me providentially at the same time, and I do not believe there ever were two sweeter child characters in productions. With the close of “The Warrens of_ Virginia,” Mary came to me and said: MARY PICKFORD in' Coquette? Unless you advise against it. I think I will try motion pictures for*' a while. I have had some tests at the Biograph studio and Mr. David Griffith has promised me regular work. I think I will like it, bift I do not want to attempt it if you think it will interfere with my stage prospects. Tell me what to do, please, for you are my best friend and adviser.” Here indeed was a problem! I knew that the child’s beauty and sweetness would make her a posi¬ tive success in pictures. But on the other hand the stage would be los¬ ing these qualities, plus a partic¬ ularly melodious voice... But in the end I nodded approval: But Mary came back to me. in 1912 to play the role of “Juliet” in ‘A Good Little Devil,” a fairy fan¬ tasy. And strangely enough there were cast with her other juveniles destined to score successes later. Among those were Ernest Yruex, cast in my play as the Scotch Or¬ phan; Lillian Gish, Wilda Bennett and Regina Wallace. Each had an important role. . Mary brought back to the the¬ atre a new expressiveness of fea-' ture, her remarkable “spehking” hands, and an amplification of her natural poise and gracefulness. But best of all she brought back every note of her superbly musical voice.- 12 — Two-Col. Belasco Feature Scene (Mat 10c, Cut 50c) Mary Pickford as she appeared at the beginning of her career, as Juliet in David Belasco production "A Good Little Devil” on the stage of the Republic Theatre, New York. At right is Ernest Truex. Presently when the end of the season came, Mary called on me to say, plaintively: “Will you have a place for me next season, Mr. David* dear?’: Divining a Future I shook my head negatively. “Why—-but why—” s he “What have I done-” “Everything, my dear,” I re¬ joined, “I’m going to let you gc back to the pictures, where they’re clamoring for you; where you have made hundreds of thousands of ad¬ mirers by your splendid work. You can go equally as far on the stage, but it will take years, and in that time you can have progressed an incredible distance on the screen. I want so badly to see you on the heights that I am willing to forego all my plans in order that my little chum may find stardom quickly.” I think we both were a bit misty- eyed at the parting, but Mary walked from my studio that day to put her dainty feet on the ladder of screen fame—and joy has been mine in the passing years to know that my advice was good. We have never lost contact. T always think of Mary Pickford America’s Sweetheart — but “little-chum.” Always I have re belled at the loss of her gloriou: voice in the silences of motion pictureland, but now it seems tha even that is restored in “Coquette.’