Blondie Johnson (Warner Bros.) (1933)

=a % eye CURRENT FEATURES Pity Pretty Joan Blondell; Studio Has Her Doll Up Pretty Star Hates Getting Dressed Up, Yet Is Compelled by Latest Role to Make 16 Changes HEY’VE got Joan Blondell “dolled up” in her latest First National picture, “Blondie Johnson,” and if you know Joan, you know that’s something to write home about. Joan hates clothes. It’s a feeling she was born with, and curiously, her career in the movies has catered to that aversion. year she has played a nurse, a In the past girl detective, a stenographer, a newspaper reporter of the “sob-sister” variety, a “down-and-outer,” and several not-too-successful chorus girls with ideals instead of ee ee ee ideas. No smart clothes for this sisterhood, and Joan, perversely feminine, revelled in the continued lack of feminine frills accompanying her roles. “Blonde Johnson,” now playing at the<.-.. i iheatre on, ...> -epanges the old order. In this film, Joan plays a girl racketeer, driven to make money and still more money by the memories of her poverty-stricken childhood. Such a character naturally would run to flocks of pretty clothes because she had lacked them while growing up. Result: Joan Blondell, for the first time in her career, fell heir to sixteen changes of wardrobe in a single picture! Studio Designer Orry-Kelly, after a c}iference with Director Ray Enright. and Mrs. N’Was MacKenzie, heaa of the studio seamstresses, got out ‘nis sketchbooks, pencils and paints, and created sixteen lovely gowns all to Joan’s measurements. Now, for the first time in more than a year, when the popular blonde actress’ fans see her on the screen, they will see her as a fashion plate as well as a talented actress. They will see her in black velvet and ermine; in brown velvet and blue fox; in tiny tilted hats with the smartest of veils; in peach satin negligees; and in cunning sports frocks of plaid wools with bright suede jackets. Clothes Unimportant But Joan still hates clothes. She’s glad, more or less, of an opportunity to show that she can wear them as smartly as anyone else, but she can’t quite hide a secret longing that her next picture will give her fewer eve ning gowns and more pajamas. “They’re just not important to her,” Studio Designer Orry-Kelly says ruefully. “She expected to come into the studio in a rush and have all of her dresses for the whole picture fitted in ten minutes. And, oh, how’ she fidgeted !” But why does Joan hate clothes? Nobody knows, exactly, and Joan herself least of all. Perhaps it’s a throwback to the days when the wise-cracking little actress was a vaudeville trouper, and an extensive wardrobe meant just one more burden to be lugged around in a suitcase. Or perhaps it goes even farther back, to the days of her early girlhood when she was inclined to be just a bit roly poly, and envied the svelte charms of her more slender schoolmates. Now, however, Joan’s figure is decidedly better than the average, with just enough of the lovely curves necessary to carry off the fitted frocks of the present fashion. And still the aversion continues. Give her a sweater and skirt, or better still, a pair of slacks, and she’s perfectly satisfied. “I truly don’t think I’m the type to be a clothes horse,” she says, and means it. “When I was in high school, I did go through a stage of wanting to dress up all the time and go to parties, but I just did it because the other girls did, and I thought you had to to be popular. Now I’ve learned that it pays to be myself at all times—and my idea of my real self doesn’t include going after any ‘best-dressed women’ titles. Pm far happier out-of-doors, in lounging clothes or hiking togs.” Stars Without Gowns Joan’s start in pictures, you may remember, also happened to, throw her in the company of two other actresses who agreed with the newcomer and backed her up. They were Dorothy Mackaill and Barbara Stanwyck, who also can take their wardrobes ready-made or leave them alone. Joan, in “The Office Wife” and “TIIlicit,” wore the clothes that were given her and said little, but made a private little resolution of her own that since these famous girls had already proved that clothes do not make the actress, she would follow in their footsteps whenever possible—sartorially speaking only, of course. There have followed for Joan two years of successful pictures, in which she did win for herself stardom without having to compromise on the clothes question. Her smart frocks, during all of that time, would not have been numerous enough to outfit _ Kay Francis or’ Ruth Chatterton for a Single picture. And it is a matter of great personal satisfaction to Joan to remember that her great personal success has been built on other, more solid, things. Joan as “Blondie Johnson,” with her sixteen gorgeous gowns, is a rival of Kay Francis, Constance Bennett and Lilyan 'l'ashman, and she does herself proud. But if she has her way, it won’t happen again! Chester Morris, Allen Jenkins, Claire Dodd, Earle Foxe, Mae Busch and Joe Cawthorne are in the cast with Miss Blondell in this picture of a girl gang leader who has a glamorous career until tripped by the police. The screen play is by Earl Baldwin and the direction by Ray Enright. Claire Dodd, Is Hollywood’s Long Distance Sleep Queen Unless She Gets 12 Hours’ Rest Nightly Vamp in “Blondie Johnson’’ Feels She’s Been Cheated \ ' J ILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, Sancho Panza and Claire Dodd have at least one thing in common—they are all firm believers scohetnerin a ef-s a ae aed Witte. Bard eee ea mg mle et pes ~ von, it may have been nothing but a wise philosophy expressed in matchless verse. We have no means ot knowing whether the playwright-producer of Elizabethan England practiced what he preached or simply preached it. But the good Sancho Panza was a notorious sleeper, often to the complete disgust of Don Quixote. And, in 1938, Claire Dodd, the pretty blonde vamp of “Blondie Johnson,” a First National picture now showing at the. ... Theatre, is, beyond doubt, the champion sleeper of Hollywood. When Claire sleeps, she sleeps! And a good night’s sleep means a lot more sleep to her than it does to the average conscientious sleeper. People who think eight hours is a full measure of a night’s sleep are pikers compared with Miss Dodd. Nothing less than twelve hours a night will satisfy her. Anything less than twelve hours is a makeshift, not to be thought of or tolerated except under the pressure of picture work. And even then, Claire will make any social sacrifice necessary to get in as many of the twelve hours per night as her professional obligations will permit. Glutton for Sleep “ve always been a glutton for sleep,” smiled the tall, graceful, perfectly poised blonde while the head cameraman was working out the intricate details of lighting a new setup on the First National stage where “Blondie Johnson” was being produced. Claire is a vivid contrast to Joan Blondell, star of the production. “Ever since I was a child, I’ve been angelic about going to bed at night. My parents never had the bedtime _ arguments with me that so many fathers and mothers have. Most of the time I proposed going ‘to bed myself, “And today, I'll give up anything or stay home from any affair to get in my twelve hours a night. “Yes, I know the old piece of doggerel,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes, “the one about ‘seven hours for a man, eight hours for a woman, = Se Se eee nine hours for a child, ten hours for a fool.’ “I can’t imagine to what category you’d consign me, on the basis of twelve hours’ sleep a night. I hope it won’t be too disgraceful—but no matter what it is, I’m afraid I’ll have to keep on doing as I always have done.” One doesn’t have to watch Claire Dodd long to become convinced that she is a living advertisement for the merits of her policy. Teems With Health There is a clean, vivid health about her; a tireless, sure grace in every movement and a sense of reserve energy and power in whatever she does, that comes from sound liying—and lots of sleep. Don’t make the mistake, either, of imagining that this predilection for sleep in Claire Dodd is an indication of a lazy, hothouse attitude toward life in general. If you think there’s anything of the orchid in Claire’s disposition, you should see her at her favorite sport— deep-sea fishing. Besides her role in “Blondie Johnson,” Miss Dodd has given an excellent account of herself in such other Warner-First National productions as “Lawyer Man,” “Parachute Jumper,” “Hard To Handle,” “Match King” and “Man Wanted.” In “Blondie Johnson,” Miss Dodd plays the part of a stage actress and a rival of Miss Blondell for the affections of a gangster, a role taken by Chester Morris. Others in the cast include Allen Jenkins, Earle Foxe, Mae Busch and Toshia Mori. The screen play, by Earl Baldwin, is a melodramatic story in which Joan Blondell, as the hardboiled “Blondie Johnson,” rules her world. with an iron hand. The picture was directed by Ray Enright. gg wr er Som ae What Do the Stars Kat? Hollywood, Calif—After you have read every item on the restaurant menu and are still undecided what to order, what is your favorite standby that _ you can relish at any and all | times? Maybe the following list “s eee ne aN” WN Ee ey of preferences of Warner Bros. First National stars and featured players in the way of food will give you an idea: William Powell Strawberry shortcake Edward G. Robinson Fruit of any kind Joe E. Brown Fried chicken and plenty of it Joan Blondell Chop suey Richard Barthelmess Mexican food Barbara Stanwyck Rare roast beef and baked potatoes, or spare ribs and sauerkraut Aline MacMahon Fancy dishes Dick Powell Ham and eggs Alice Jans Ham and eggs Glenda Farrell . Lamb chops potatoes Helen Mann Salads of all kinds and baked Preston Foster Pigs’ knuckles, potatoes, eggs, made into a hash Eleanor Holm Milk Guy Kibbee Fish—any kind Ginger Rogers Fruit jello Lyle Talbot Filet of sole Sheila Terry Mashed potatoes Helen Vinson Maine lobster a a sal = No Artificial Aid Needed to Make Joan Blondell Weep Star of “Blondie Johnson” Scorns Glycerine, Onions or Lotions When Director Orders Tears N the sad business of weeping before the camera Joan Blondell has it all over Der more soher re to alycerine drops, Se rs ae SEU Gru Ui bite Clit igtasxa o ; ey resort stinging lotions for the eyes and even, at times, to the lowly onion to generate their screen tears. All except Miss Blondell. Joan will use none of these subterfuges. When the time comes for her to cry in a picture she just simply cries and the glycerine bottle, the camphor spray and the restaur upon to double for real emotion. In her latest First National picture, “Blondie Johnson,” in which she is featured with Chester Morris and currently at the . . Theatre on ., Miss Blondell is called upon to weep for the camera on three separate occasions. Two of these are moments of real, unsuppressed emotion and the third is in a scene in which she sheds crocodile tears for the benefit of a jury. There was a fine distinction there but Joan supplied the real article for all three scenes. Her Secret Just how she does it is her secret. Half seriously she suggests that it may be because she enjoyed a peculiarly happy childhood and was denied a child’s usual share of tears then, leaving her with an abundant and ready-to-tap supply at all times now. James Cagney, Joan’s co-star in many pictures, confessed once that for highly emotional scenes he found himself unconsciously recalling the circumstances of a family tragedy which automatically keyed him to a point where tears started naturally. To a suggestion that she might, perhaps, rely on some similar method for her screen tears, Joan refused to commit herself. “Don’t believe all you hear,” she said. “Suppose you guess.” The guess is that Joan’s tears come from a different source altogether. Under that wise-cracking, brittle exterior, Joan Blondell is a strangely emotional young person, amazingly feminine and sympathetic. She relies upon a woman’s prerogative of weeping as easily as she laughs—and she laughs a great deal. It is enough, apparently, that the ant onion are never called story requires her to weep. She is sincere enough in her roles to really feel the emotions of the character she plays. In “Blondie Johnson” she cries once over the death of her mother. At another time she weeps over her love, a victim of her own mistaken loyalty to her associates. Joan is admittedly in love. That situation comes close enough home to real life to seem real when she plays it. Even Fooled a Judge False weeping for the benefit of a jury she has been hired to impress was a bigger order on Joan’s supply of tears. It is on record, however, that a year or so ago, when the effervescent Joan faced a severe looking judge to plead guilty to a third speeding charge she shed big tears and got off with a minimum sentence. Perhaps she just repeated that performance for the picture judge in “Blondie Johnson.” In “Blondie Johnson,” Miss Blondell appears in a new role, that of a beautiful and brilliant leader of a band of lawbreakers whom she rules with an iron hand. She is ruthless, cold and hardboiled until the end, at which time she discovers that not all the wealth or power she has gained can take the place of love. It is a thrilling and dynamic picture, with powerful dramatic and emotional scenes, tempered by snappy dialogue and humorous _ situations. There is a strong supporting cast which includes Allen Jenkins, Claire Dodd, Earle Foxe, Mae Busch, Joe Cawthorne, Sterling Holloway, Olin Howland and Toshia Mori. The screen play is by Earl Baldwin and the direction by Ray Enright. Page Seven