The Eagle (United Artists) (1925)

T wo Magazine Features That Shovdd be Popular Valentino Close-up Shows Qualities Eluding Camera Hans Kraly, Noted Author Writes Valentino Story Intimate Personal Acquaintance Tells Facts About Screen Star That Heretofore Have Been Hidden Behind Unusual and Exceptionally Reserved Personality. Much Discussed Scenarist Has Exceptional Back¬ ground of Training and Experience and Shows Best Work in ‘The Eagle,” Rudolph’s New Photoplay. Editor’s Note—This interesting pen pic¬ ture of Rudolph Valentino, star of “The Eagle” at the . Theatre, was written by a man who comes into intimate daily contact with him. By JOSEPH JACKSON Rudolph Valentino is not easy to get acquainted with—that is, to get really close to him. In fact, it’s very difficult. Although his career has been of meteoric brilliance, he has had many bitter experi¬ ences and these seem to have made him a bit wary. He wants to know people for some time before placing great trust in them. But once he has placed his trust, it is not easily dislodged. Even though you may see Valentino every day, you never feel that you com¬ pletely know him. There is a subtle and impenetrable reserve that never quite gives way. There is always a corner of his personality that you have not entered. I believe this quality is es¬ sentially a part of his great success as a romantic actor. There is no mystery or lure to the thing that we completely understand. “A man’s reach must ex¬ ceed his grasp, or what’s a Heaven for?” The closest I ever got to Valentino was one day when just he and I were having luncheon at his house. After a couple of cocktails he told me that he was much happier when he was a “no¬ body” than he is now. He said the strain and responsibility of being a star was too high a price. A star has no privacy; he is damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t. The news¬ papers slaughter him to make a holiday. Unscrupulous persons try to take ad¬ vantage of him. The thrill of struggle and trying to arrive was greater than the thrill of arrival. And so on. Yet I notice that he works very hard and conscientiously to maintain his position. The stories you have read about Val¬ entino’s early rising and hard work are true. Of course, he isn’t making pic¬ tures all the time and he doesn’t have to live up to such a strict regime always, but even when ce isn’t in the midst of production he is always active. ( Between the making of “Cobra” and “The Eagle,” his new United Artists Corporation picture, coming next . to toe .... Theatre, there was a period of several months when he was away from the camera, yet he was always on the go. He takes a passion for a hobby and rides it like a cowboy. He will go in for horseback riding for a while. Every day he will ride furiously. He used to get up before daylight and ride by electric light in his studio riding ring. Then boxing will strike his fancy. For a while he had “Gentleman Gene” Delmont, a professional pugilist, on his staff to box with him every day. Jack Dempsey also gave him some lessons, and he trained for a while with “Ace” Hudkins, the sensational Pacific Coast lightweight. Automobile mechanics became his next hobby. He spent a good part of the summer in overalls working under his cars. He overhauled his three ma¬ chines and worked as hard as his two mechanics. While he was doing this it was the most important thing in the world to him. Several interviewers got their stories from him while he lay under the cars. Garage athletics had to share honors with art, for about this time Frederico- Beltran-Masses, the famous Spanish portrait painter, arrived in California to be Rudy’s guest. The two had met in Spain, and Rudy invited the painter to come to California. In the morning Valentino would paint his cars, and in the afternoon he would be painted by Beltran-Masses. Valentino also arranged a big exhibit for the artist and worked untiringly to make it a success. He spoke at five or six high schools and you should have heard the reception that the youngsters —the boys as well as the girls—gave him. The desert was his love for a while— before the weather got too hot. He would dash off to Palm Springs (three and one-half hours from Hollywood) whenever he got an opportunity. He once left a dinner party at two in the morning and motored to his desert re¬ treat. He tells me that he likes the solitude and simplicity of it. He says he likes to go there when he’s worried because the vastness and unchangeability of the desert make human problems seem so unimportant. Many of the most important events in his career have hap¬ pened while he was at Palm Springs. Valentino has a reckless, foolhardy courage. He seems to relish combat with windmills—at least he doesn’t fear them. He told me that he had $700 in the bank at the time he started his me¬ morable fight with Famous-Players- Lasky. Few men would have had the temerity to face lawyer’s fees and un¬ employment with such meagre capital. Yet he won out. His whole career is colored with just such bravado. It is too well known to relate here in detail. Most picture goers know of his youthful escapades, of his arrival in America, how he spent all his money and turned to dancing for a liv¬ ing, and his eventual landing in the movies. These are the things, I believe, which make him a romantic figure. I am not forgetting his appearance, to be sure, but his handsome features alone would not have such a compelling appeal. There is something back of the profile that fires your imagination. You just know that this young man has a do- and-dare way about him. One thing I like particularly about Rudolph is that he never tries to cover up the days when he was a nobody. On the contrary, he takes a particular de¬ light in recalling his early embarrass¬ ments and hardships. I have known stars who climbed so high on the lad¬ der of success that they couldn’t see the ground any more. One of the most discussed men today in Hollywood picture circles is Hans Kraly, scenario writer, who has just about established himself as the ablest of screen authors. However, little has been published about him as a person¬ ality. By way of identification it is only necessary to say that he write the screen version of “The Eagle,” Rudolph Val¬ entino’s latest starring vehicle now showing at the... Theatre. The scenario for this Clar¬ ence Brown production for United Art¬ ists Corporation is based on the Rus¬ sian classic, “Dubrovsky,” by Alexander Pushkin. Kraly also wrote “Passion” and “De¬ ception,” original screen stories which introduced Pola Negri to America and made her reputation in advance of her own arrival. He is also the author of “Her Sister From Paris,” the Constance Talmadge comedy which is even now evoking gales of laughter. Kraly has just adapted “Kiki,” Lenore Ulric’s great stage success, to the screen as a vehicle for Norma Talmadge, and he recently signed a long-term contract with Joseph M. Schenck. Now as to his background and previ¬ ous experience, before coming to Amer¬ ica he was scenario editor and produc¬ tion supervisor for UFA, the _ largest studio in Germany. In this position he had almost unlimited power and was re¬ garded as one of the most important men in the industry. The author, who is forty years old, was born in Hamburg, Germany, the son of the late Julius Kraly, a comedian for many years on the German stage and who also played for a while on the New York boards. The boy’s mother did not want him to follow his father’s footsteps, so as soon as he graduated from the “gym¬ nasium” she found him a job in an im¬ port and export house. He stuck to this for two and a half years, although he admits he was not a good employee, for he spent a considerable part of his time writing plays while appearing to be buried in a ledger. The elder Kraly went almost blind, and his son would lead him to the the¬ atre and wait back stage until after the performance was over. He “had his father’s blood in him” and the lure of the theatre was too strong for him. So he abandoned the dry work in the ex¬ port office and at the age of eighteen became an actor, an occupation which he followed for the next ten years. All the time he was acting he was writing, too, and by the time he was twenty-five he had had several stage plays produced. Kraly went into motion pictures at a time when they were “in their infancy” (the phrase is copyrighted and all rights are reserved). At that time Ernst Lub- itsch was a star in one-reel comedies, and Kraly wrote the scenarios and acted supporting parts. A scenario at that time sold for twenty-five marks and was often written on one sheet of paper. Years passed, as the title writers say, and Lubitsch became a director and Kraly his writer. Pola Negri and Emil Jannings alternately starred in these productions. They turned out such notable productions as “Gypsy Blood,” “Passion,” “Deception,” “Arabian Nights” and “Montmarte.” Pofe Negri and Lubitsch came to America, and Kraly followed. Since he has been in this country he has written for the screen, besides those named, “Forbidden Paradise,” “Kiss Me Again” and “Three Women.” All of his pictures have been distinguished by a deft touch and by the fact that the stories were told in terms of pictures rather than words. His method of work explains this quality. Before he writes a scene he closes his eyes and visualizes it in terms of action. Every scene must pass the critical test, “I see.” “It is easy to write scripts that can¬ not be directed,” he says. “That is, it is easy to tell the story in terms of words, but often difficult to tell it in picture language.” He not only visualizes every bit of action, but he also acts it out for the director before production starts. Be¬ cause of the great care which he takes he writes slowly. If he is not in the mood he writes nothing, for he says he will have to rewrite it. Ideas cannot be forced, he avers. When engaged on a script he lets nothing else enter his mind and lives with his characters exclusive¬ ly until his work is done. Kraly is a great believer in original screen stories in place of adaptations from books and novels. He believes that the time is not far distant when plays and novels will be taken from scenarios just as scenarios are now taken from the older forms. Incidentally, he is “sold” very strong on America as a country and as a place to make photoplays. He declares that, although the older countries may excel the United States in the older arts, America has a genius surpassing all others for the newest art—the motion pictures.