Sparrows (United Artists) (1926)

Real Feature Stories by Feature Writers Wire-Haired Terrier Has Chief Place In Heart Of Creator Of “Sparrows,” And Other Sensationally Successful Photoplays- And “Zorro” Adores “The World’s Sweetheart.” By Grace Gray ALLIGATORS FAIL AS PLEASANTJJOVIE PETS Seven of Them Figure in Swamp Scene in Mary Pickford’s New Film, “Sparrows.” Wading around in sticky mud, with seven temperamental alligators snapping at your heels is no fun. Mary Pickford and the members of her company and staff can testify to this, for they had to do it. During the filming of “Sparrows” now at ..., scenes were made in a bog where alli¬ gators imperiled Miss Pickford and nine little children, making their escape from a baby farm through the swamp. Real alligators, rented from an alli¬ gator farm, were used. The sticky bottom of the bog made quick moving almost impossible, and both the children and the workmen had to keep their eyes on the beasts at all times, to- fore¬ stall a sudden move on their part. One alligator made a lunge at H. F. Carney, one of the cameramen. Carney was unable to move his big hip boots out of the mire, so he slid out of them and dashed for shore in his stocking feet. The boots were a total loss. She wants to walk down the streets, hanging on the arm of the man she loves and idle in front of shop windows, talking over the things she sees; she wants to drop in at a movie or see a show and stroll out with the crowd loi¬ tering at will; she wants to go shopping when she feels like it, stop at the count¬ ers and look over the bargains; she wants to drop in- on her neighbors and have her neighbors drop in to see her; she wants in fact, the simple everyday things that are a matter of course to most women. She has never had these things and Mary Pickford wants them poignantly. Here is a young woman in the prime of life positively starving for the sim¬ ple routines that most women accept as a matter of course. It is impossible for her to show her¬ self on the streets of her own Holly¬ wood without being literally followed about by crowds; she cannot go to a theatre without slipping in after the house is dark and hiding herself in a box; she cannot walk in peace, travel in peace nor do anything outside the gates of her home and studio. She is a pris¬ oner in a sense that few people realize. In order that this be better under- ' stood, we must go back to the earlier Mary Pickford, the starry-eyed, little girl five years old dragged by the hand of fate from childhood games she was beginning to love. At this tender age she made her first appearance on the stage in Toronto, Canada, her birthplace. The stage has never been her choice. It has simply been the thing for which she seemed best fitted, and through all the years that followed she stuck grimly to her work because of the necessity. Fortunately, for her, a fine, old- fashioned mother surrounded her with 500 TREES DRAPED IN MOSSJOR MOVIE Typical Louisiana Swamp Scene In Mary Pickford’s New Film, “Sparrows.” Five hundred trees festooned with Spanish moss form the background of a Southern swamp built on the Pick- ford-Fairbanks lot for Mary Pickford’s latest production “Sparrows” now showing at . Two carload's of moss were imported from New Orleans to drape these trees and it took an army of men working a solid week to complete their decora¬ tion. Each bough was hung with it and as some of the trees were nearly a hun¬ dred feet in height it took considerable maneuvering to accomplish the artistic effect that was necessary. In a brief time men were forced to achieve by hand the result that Nature spent a century in obtaining. . After days of the weary task under the discerning eye of Harry Oliver, art director, who had his own ideas as to the placing of each particular strand of the moss, one of the staff was heard to announce he’d lost his taste for art. love, gave her the sympathetic guid¬ ance of true • understanding and thus preserved her native wholesomeness. The nature of her work prevented her having what her heart craved. In her own words: “I greatly missed the play days of my childhood and the opportunity for really giving away to a spirit of gay abandon that only children reach. That is one reason why I get such pleasure play¬ ing child roles; they give me the chance to play that I was denied when I was a little girl.” As she grew up and success crowned her, there still was no chance for her to play as others of her age were able to do. Just as in her earlier years she had sacrificed childhood to necessity, she now was beginning to sacrifice her natural deisire for a simple, normal round of life. And so we come to the Mary Pick¬ ford of today. Few people realize how far into the tiny corners of the world this girl’s popularity reaches. Her mail is laden with letters in every language. She is the only woman in pictures who is socially honored by the real royalties of Europe. When she is traveling, peo¬ ple at every station crowd the plat¬ forms for a chance glimpse of her. And with all of this she is just a charming, wistful young woman, happy in the love of a devoted husband, but still missing the things her less famous neighbors accept as a matter of course. You may wonder from this if she is happy with her lot. The answer is yes. But even the reason for her being happy in spite of missing the things she craves is in itself a simple thing: her work makes others happy. Therein lies her compensation. She has learned that service to others is the one coin that pays all the debts we owe our hearts. “Love me, love my dog”—meaning “Zorro,” a ragged little wire-haired ter¬ rier is truly the philosophy of Mary Pickford whose newest picture, “Spar¬ rows,” a United Artists Corporation re¬ lease is coming soon to..... For everywhere that Mary goes Zor¬ ro is sure to go. He is her constant companion, inseparable from his beloved mistress for even an instant and abso¬ lutely and entirely a “one-man” dog. To Douglas Fairbanks he accords a modicum of affection, a gentle tolera¬ tion, but his entire dog heart is re¬ served for “The World’s Sweetheart.” On the Pickford lot there is none so privileged -as “Zorro.” The sunniest spots are his, the most luscious tidbits, no place is barred to him, no cushion to gorgeous, nor chair too elegant. Though highly bred, “Zorro” is no beauty. He has a fatal penchant for becoming bedraggled and disreputable, yet for all his disregard for grooming he is conscious of the high honor that is his. He is indeed a snob. Daily he stalks the lot pridefully unconscious that he has ever seen any of the staff before. No one takes liberties with him. No one lays a hand upon him. Friendli¬ ness is not his gift but rather love— and that for only one person, who is his entire world and to whom he offers his complete devotion. Though he is small, he is mighty and there is none who dares dispute with him the responsibility of the “World’s Sweetheart.” On Mary’s and Doug’s trip to Europe, he went with them—a beloved nuisance. Throughout, all his travels he maintained the same air of disdain. French, Eng¬ lish, Spanish—or what not, in all the world there is but one Mary Pickford and only at sight of her did his loyal heart quicken. But “Zorro” often has grave cause for jealousy, for Mary loves all ani¬ mals and cannot resist bestowing a lov¬ ing pat on any dog’s head as she passes by, much to “Zorro’s” disgust. And to his consternation there are other pets' on the Pickford lot. A gorgeous St. Bernard, “Robin,” is the pride of Doug¬ las’ heart and his huge bulk, combined with that of “Rooney,” a clumsy air- dale pup, often makes impassable the corridors leading to the business offices and gives the caller real reason for pause. Miss Pickford’s love of pets is not confined exclusively to dogs but em¬ braces every living thing. At her dress¬ ing room bungalow she has an out-of- door aviary filled with tiny songsters of rare beauty, each tame enough to eat from her lips and to break into glorious song at the sight of her. Then, too, there is gorgeous Joe, a macaw, bril¬ liant of plumage, housed in a mansion with nothing to do all day but to de¬ vour sun flower seeds, preen itself and call softly “Pretty Mary.” True, she has many loves even be¬ sides these—a lamb, a group of baby chicks, but the greatest of these is “Zor¬ ro.” And never is she too weary or too engrossed to drop a loving hand on the tangled head of the little fellow whose eyes bespeak adoration and a love that passes human understanding. Mary Pickford, the Well-Known Banker, Speaks On Thrift Editor’s note: Mary Pickford, the famous star and producer, has recently been elected the director of a Hollywood bank. Being one of the few women bank directors in the world her ideas on thrift will no doubt be interesting. They are given below to readers of. By MARY PICKFORD Thrift was inborn in me. I do not think it possible ever to develop or cultivate thrift to the extent I have it. I have always saved a part of my salary, no matter how small, and still do. My early training made it possible for me to resist buying every expensive thing I saw, even after I had the money to buy it. My grandmother, who was quite a philosopher, used to say that a very small hole in the bottom of a sugar sack would soon dissipate its contents. I never forgot this. As I used to be thrifty with my pennies, I am so wjth my dollars today. Not because I think I have to be, but because I want to retain my sense of appreciation. Just as I preferred to control my appetite for candy as a girl in my teens, so I later learned to resist buying every costly chinchilla evening wrap I saw. Of course, thrift can be carried, too far, and too much is almost as bad as not any. There is nothing mysterious about thrift. I think almost anyone can save ten cents, when they earn a dollar. This, with the satisfaction that it brings to one who saves reasonably, is the simple explanation of a word that is often made to sound difficult and mysterious. With Beauty, Wealth and Fame Mary Pickford Still Longs for the Simple Things of Life By Julian Arthur (This is not the report of an interview but the impressions of many weeks spent at her studio, during which time I had not one but several talks with her. I saw her at work, strained, worried, gay, busy and idle.)