Frisco Jenny (Warner Bros.) (1932)

Advance Feature Current Feature Nicknames d oeore Bestowed|A Movie Studio Sends Out A Call for 500 ‘‘Beards”’ Flaming Ladies of Camps, Courts, Stage and the Streets Who Have Become Known to the World by the Picturesquely Odd Titles Bestowed on Them by Their Professions Nicknamed Ladies! Down the ages they sweep—a glittering cavalcade! In gorgeous carriages of State! In rags—in tags—in velvet gowns! Queens and courtezans! and go-whither feet! stars ! On prancing steeds! Afoot! Ladies with come-hither eyes Street-singers and Across the centuries they come—scented—shimmering—dangerous—bafiling—alluring—unforgettable! Jeweled hands that touch a harp—make a touch—or wield a dagger—with equal dex terity ! diggers of the Barbary Coast! The first lady of the screen climaxes a career of dramatic greatness with what has been heralded as her most brilliant effort. ‘“‘Frisco Jenny” is the film and in addition to Ruth Chatterton the cast includes James Murray, Donald Cook and Louis Calhern. William Wellman, top notch director, wielded the megaphone. Cut No.2 Out 30c Often they wear the mask of comedy—more often—of tragedy! Solomon’s “Sheba” to the Silver King’s “Baby Doe!” Robbie Burns’ “Clarinda” to Dan McdAllister’s “Frisco Jenny!” Haunting—exasperating—not to be lived-with—or lived-without—Nicknamed Ladies! From the beginnings of time lovers have followed the fashion of coining new cognomens for their in“amoratas. In all probability our worthy Father Adam had some quaint pet-name, all his own, for our Mother Eve—and for her legendary predecessor, Lilith, who, though “not a drop of her blood was human, was made like a soft, sweet woman. “Sweet Nell” There was Charles II’s “Sweet Nell.” When his greedy eyes first feasted on that saucy, small, redheaded alley-wench, Nelly Gwyn, peddling her oranges before old Drury in London Town, Nell was out on her own. Her mother, while in her cups, had toppled into a Chelsea pool, thus making a hasty exit. Her dad was a broken-down soldier who made any pub in sight his General Headquarters. If Nell rather meagrely supplied the family larder then —she stocked it royally later! It was as the favorite mistress of Charles II that she set all England talking. The public loved her, too, for she seemed the living antithesis of Puritanism. The Catholic question raged at the time, and the Manchini sisters, who were of that party, were also high in Charlie’s favor. In this connection the following anecdote, characteristie of Mistress Nell, is told. Brass-knuckled cowgirls of mining days! Brazen gold Or bright Broadway! Mat 10c Carried through the streets of London in the resplendent sedan which was the king’s gift — the crowd, supposing that one of the Manchinis was the occupant, began to ‘boo.’ Nell parted the damask curtains, peered twinklingly from the silken cushions, raised a _ bediamonded hand for silence, and cried out: “No need of shouting, my good people! No need whatever! I’m the Protestant courte zan!” Recklessness, generosity, good temper, ready wit and infectious mirth made Mistress Nell supreme! Stage triumphs followed each other with amazing regularity—the only things about Nelly that were ‘regular!’ Her indiscretions were many and monstrous, but always ingratiating! She did not long survive her royal protector, whose last words were: “Let not poor Nelly starve!” It is not only the Old World which has produced the Nicknamed Ladies! These here, now United States can show them by the score! One of the most startling was “Poker Annie,” of Leadville’s wild and woolly days! Annie who dressed like a miner, packed guns at her belt, and augmented her walloping right, with brass knuckles, on occasion! She appears in Edward G. Robinson’s recent picture, “Silver Dollar.” “Baby Doe’”’ Another picturesque figure of silver-mining days was “Baby Doe” the demure blonde divorcee who separated the Silver Dollar King T was a great day for the ‘‘beards. >? Five hundred of them were wanted for ‘‘Frisco Jenny,’’ Ruth Chatterton’s latest starring vehicle for First National, which is now at the ~The ‘‘beards’’? Who are they? .. Theatre. Well, that takes a little telling. In motion pictures, from time to time, there is a hurry-up demand for men with whiskers. It may be for a wild woodsy thing like ‘‘ Robin Hood,’’ or it may be for a straight western gold and silver-rush picture like ‘‘Silver Dollar,’’ or, as in the case of ‘‘Frisco Jenny, o? it may be for the old Barbary Coast of San Francisco. Men, wore beards’ twenty-five years ago. Much more so than today. Consequently when First National decided to make “Frisco Jenny” and show San Francisco before the earthquake ‘in 1906, extras were wanted with beards. But where are the bearded men to come from. It takes two weeks for ordinary men to grow a respectable beard, although Irishmen and Welshmen are supposed to be able to do it in something under that. A studio, however, as everyone agrees, can’t wait that long. Studios used to send out into the highways and the byways and pick up every bearded man they found. But even that was a long and somewhat laborious process. Sometimes no more than two or three beards to the mile. It had to be shortened. The whole system was in danger. But the matter—as matters sometimes do—just settled itself. The “beards” came. From nowhere that anyone knows of. And though they keep coming and going—no one knows where they go. They have formed a little colony, not in Hollywood, but down by the railroad tracks in Los Angeles, not far from where all the tunnels connecting the north end of the city with the expanse beyond begin. They’ve built their shacks up all over a large hillside. It was a beautiful hillside in the older days. All studded with queenly eucalyptus trees. But the shacks have spoiled that a bit. A camera study of the first lady of the screen, RUTH CHATTERTON, whose latest picture, “Frisco Jen ny,” has been hailed as the greatest she has ever made. Cut No.4 Outide Mat be They’re the beards. | You Yell ‘‘Beards!”’ | No matter. The shacks house the “beards.” You approach the hillside and whistle—there are no telephones connecting with the unpainted and rundown district—and shout “Beards! BEARDS!” like that —and they all come streaming out of the little shacks, sometimes as many as four or five out of a ramshackle building that looks no larger than a telephone booth. And when they’ve all gathered around you, you pick out the ones you want. There are young ones and old ones, long ones and short ones, those with grey beards, and those with white, those with flaming red ones that curl and sizzle in the sunlight, and those with black ones that surely must have seen nihilist: Russia in its worst day. There are jaunty ones and drooping ones, spiked military ones and sad withered ones. In motley array. Any kind of beard, practically. And as many as you want. So that when the studio head says: “We’re going to shoot a picture with beards,” the assistant director, whose job it is to get them, doesn’t say, “Now how do you suppose I’ll go about doing that?” He doesn’t even scratch his head and look dumbfounded. He just puts on a bright assistantdirector look—and says: “Beards? Sure. How many?” In this case, it was 500. A great day for the “beards.” “Frisco Jenny,” the picture in which the 500 beards appear, is a stirring screen play of the Barbary Coast of San Francisco, when it was in its heydey, at the time of the earthquake and following it. It was written by Wilson Mizner and Robert Lord and directed by William A. Wellman. Supporting Miss Chatterton are a host of well known players including Donald Cook, James Murray, Louis Calhern, Hallam Cooley, Pat O’Malley, Robert Warwick and Harold Huber. from his wife, married him in Washington, with President Arthur, and —and whose daughter was christened “Rosemary Silver Dollar Echo Honeymoon.” Baby Doe still lives in poverty, an old lady, who believes that the long-deserted mine she haunts will one day make her rich! “Baby Doe” lives on, though the baby so royally christened — long since met a violent death in Chicago’s Tenderloin. “Frisco Jenny” “Frisco Jenny” too—has at last found her way to the screen in the First National production of the same name, with Ruth Chatterton in the starring role, supported by James Murray, Robert O’Connor, Pat O’Malley, Louis Calhern and many other favorites, all of whom will be seen at the Theatre, next ee eer ee ence | Born Jenny Sandoval, in the Bar ill-fated girl falls in love with a wandering piano-player. Forbidden to marry him by her father—just as the earthquake destroys the city —she is left orphaned and friendless. Her baby is born in a Chinatown cellar. Finding her Salvation Army friends unable to give nourishment to body as well as soul, she places her child with wealthy San Franciscans—and supports herself by the oldest of professions. Unknown to him—she watches her son’s progress until he becomes District Attorney—and to prevent his learning her identity—she shoots the informer—and is tried for murder —her son appearing for the State against her... Too bad to be good... too good to be forgotten ... “Frisco Jenny” is entitled to a high place in the gallery of immortal adventuresses ... the Nicknamed Ladies! Among other women who have been given nicknames by their friends and lovers is “Blondie Johnson,” who is the shady heroine of a picture of the same name featuring Joan Blondell bary Coast saloon of her father, the | Current Feature _ el An <n «pected Battle Royal Turned Into a Love Feast Studio Expected Fireworks When Bill Wellman Directed Ruth Chatterton in “Frisco Jenny” HE outcome of Hollywood’s latest duel of personalities—or what was expected to be a duel—is one of those things that the film colony is unable to figure out. When erratic William (Wild Bill) Wellman was assigned to direct the very regal Ruth Chatterton in ‘‘Frisco Jenny,’’ the First National picture now playing at the who knew the pair to be the century. Wellman is the Petruchio of Hollywood, with a reputation for taming uppity and temperamental actors and actresses, a flair for salty language and a penchant for practical jokes, besides which he is a domineering and conscientious director. On the other hand, Ruth Chatterton, with her broad “A” and the manner of a Grand Duchess, has a reputation for squelching domination and uncouthness in a director and for instituting the formalities of an English drawing room on the set where she is working. It was just another case of an irresistible force meeting an immovable body. During the production, the first round seemed to have been won by Miss Chatterton, for Wellman started the first day’s work with his shaggy mane conventionally clipped, and his usual turned up coat collar neatly turned down. But the picture had not been two weeks under production when Wellman’s hair was seen spouting back into its old glory, his coat collar turned nonchalantly up and his directions on the set interspersed with salty phrases. But the big surprise of all was when Ruth Chatterton was heard conversing with Wilson Mizner, who is one of the co-authors with Robert Lord on the sereen play, about the very irresistible William Wellman. “T have never met a finer director in all my life,” Miss Chatterton was heard to say. “His mind works like a steel trap. Not only does he know exactly what he wants and how to Theatre, it was billed by all beginning of the battle of the get it, but he has the finest judgment and insight I have ever seen. “And what’s more,” she continued, “he is not only a fine director but a splendid actor. I’d give anything in the world to have him play a part with me.” Nor did it stop at that. Some time later an eavesdropper overheard Bill Wellman and Ruth Chatterton in heated argument. At first it was thought that the armistice was over and the battle was on again, but the gist of the argument was that Miss Chatterton insisted that Wellman play a part in the picture, while “Wild Bill’ modestly proclaimed that he photographed abominably (only he used a more colloquially descriptive term) and that make-up only added to the horror of it. And believe it or not, Wild Bill Wellman finally consented, although in a modest role. He will be seen as a newspaper reporter in “Frisco Jenny.” Not only was Miss Chatterton very enthusiastic about Bill Wellman, but Bill felt the same way about her. Wellman’s fellow directors now are all anxious to learn the secret of how two tornadoes met and developed in zephyrs. Perhaps it is because Miss Chatterton wasn’t playing a society role, but instead enacted the part of the leader of a city’s vice element, that wrought the great change in temperament. “Frisco Jenny” is a thrilling title of San Francisco’s old Barbary Coast during and just after the earthauake. Page Seven