Radio stars (Oct 1935-Sept 1936)

RADIO STARS Wliy -f/elen -tfayel. $2ult -ffollyusood {Continued from page 25) happy in Hollywood. Always she was hungry for her home in the East, where neighbors called her "Mrs. MacArthur," where she could walk down to the grocery store with her youngster and not be stared at. "I love it here at home," she always has said, her eyes shining. "We're just home folks up here." Every minute at Nyack was precious to her, every day counted. A year ago last Spring, when telegrams from the Coast were reminding her that work soon would begin on "Vanessa," she said sadly : "How I hate leaving home ! My lovely lilacs are just coming into full bloom." Then she added apologetically : "Oh, I realize how familiar a complaint that is, coming from me !" When asked: "Well, why do you go back? Why not stay?" she answered: "There's a little Hollywood custom known as a long-term contract." However, even if you could move Hollywood to Nyack, and give Helen Hayes her home, her garden, her family, her friends, all within walking distance of the set, I don't believe she would want to return to the screen. She never has been happy working in the medium of the motion picture, even though she has been very successful. .. Backstage one day, after a matinee performance of "Mary of Scotland," someone asked her how it was that she, the smallest actress on the American stage, could play so successfully the role of the tallest queen in history. Helen hesitated a moment, then answered: "Why — I just think tall." Packed in that short statement is the artistic reason for Helen Hayes' choice of the radio over the screen. She has always stressed the importance of imagination, of the intangible, in acting. And she always resented the mechanics, the constant hammering of literal details in movie making. She knows, as any truly great actress knows, the emotional power of a whisper, the dramatic effect of a half-spoken word, the suspense created by raising or lowering the voice, the magic of timing, the wizardry of a laugh or a sob. She needs no glycerine tears, no close-ups, no artificial shadows or striking backgrounds to create drama. She can paint with words, and color with her voice. She once said : "I love the sound of words beautifully put together. That is why I prefer spoken drama — it is much more literary than the screen. How I love the lilting lines of Barrie's plays, and the beautiful prose of Molnar's!" When someone reminded her that the screen now was using more dialogue, she said : "Yes. But the screen is best when handling swift action, adventure. It isn't meant for long speeches, no matter how beautifully they may be spoken." Schooled in the theater of long rehearsals and constant study, the importance of fine workmanship always has been paramount with her. It was while she was playing in "Mary of Scotland" and dreading the scheduled return to the Coast that she said: "Somehow, one feels frustrated, working in the movies. You generally have to do what you are told, whether or not you think it is right or wrong." Then she added : "I guess Radio's James Melton, with Jean Muir, in "Stars over Broadway." PARK &TILF0RDS FAOEN rS FAY —ON* PER FU *A h 7 PA K K G-TILFOKD'S FAOEN IN TEN CENT TUCKAWAY SIZES AS ILLUSTRATED AT ALL S & 10c STORES 79