Screenland (May–Oct 1927)

78 SCREENLAND world he is commencing to be recognized as a "great artist" even by the critics who refuse to believe that art can come from the screen. And Council Bluffs knows his every picturc and passes judgment upon them. Harry comes home in his pictures at least and packs the house and the boys want to be told again how Harry found the beginning of the pathway to fame right there in their own home town. Back home there is always some one who inspires us — even if wc don't realize it. There's a woman back in my home town in Virginia whom I've never forgotten — and I never will. I long for the time to come when with something worthwhile accomplished I can go back home and "run over" to see "Ellie" Ronemus. No she wasn't a grande dame descended from Robert E. Lee. Nor was she brilliant or talented. But she made the best fried bread I ever tasted. What's fried bread? Well you never lived in a small town if you don't know what that is. To make fried bread you take fresh dough — all ready for baking — but instead of putting it in the oven you place some butter in a skillet and fry the dough until it is golden brown on both sides. It tastes better than terrapin or caviar. And that's what "Ellie" used to cook for me every baking day. And I loved to sit in the window in her summer kitchen and watch her iron while I'd tell her about the wonderful things I was going to do "some day". And she never laughed at me — never once. Every single one of us has an "Ellie" whose influence follows us no matter how far we may drift. Back in Cambridge, Ohio, there is a sweet, faded old lady who would be astonished inexpressibly if she were told that she were responsible for one of the finest bits of moving picture characterization that has ever been given. When you see the "King of Kings" watch for Simon of Tyrene. William Boyd plays this part — but he doesn't play a part — he is Simon of Tyrene. There is an expression on his face of the truly spiritual man, an expression of such reverence and beauty that it makes you marvel. And how do you suppose that happened? William Boyd is a good actor, with a firm technical mastery of various roles. But this — someway — is different. He just is Simon of Tyrene. Years ago, back in Cambridge, Ohio, there was a young woman who spent her Sundays teaching the small boys of the town about the love and loveliness of the world's Great' est Martyr. William Boyd was one of her pupils. Often and often he wanted to skip Sunday School and do other and more vivid things but something really spiritual in this woman's character held him and made him attend promptly — even when he didn't want to. And now, years afterwards, the reflection of that young girl's simple faith shines out through William Boyd's eyes as he follows the Way of the Cross. The small town takes much from the motion picture and gives much to it. Watch Victor Varconi in any of his noted roles. Always Varconi preserves that air of the great gentleman. His gallantry and courtliness are unequalled. When he was a small child — only three years of age — a great German noble used to visit his native village of Tisvarda, Hungary, each summer and winter. This visitor was Prince Chlodwig Karl Victor von Hohenlohe Schillings-Furst. The prince used to stay in Tisvarda for the purpose of enjoying a little real country life and he was extraordinarily fond of an exciting boar hunt. Although he was an aristocrat he seemed to love the people and to delight in riding through their villages and attending their simple festivals. This glamorous Prince made such an impression on the mind of the young Victor Varconi that he never forgot him. And although he has been dead over twenty years he is the inspiration of Victor Varconi every time he walks upon the screen, in all his gallantry and courtliness. Whether they are conscious of it or not, every man and woman who is born in a small town is dependent upon that town for much of his success. Many times, writers, painters and actors do not realize this fact. Nevertheless it is true. In our early youth our impressions are the vividest and when a man sits down to write or paint a masterpiece unconsciously he goes back to the time when his mind and heart were fresh and eager — back to his early youth. The Main Streets make more stars — give more stars than all the city avenues. And when a name winks in and out in the lights above a theatre these lights are but a reflection of the fireflies which rise and glow in the fields of Iowa's corn, Kansas' wheat and Kentucky's clover. Do you remember the wonder expressed in "The Master" that in a sordid fishing village a genius should be born? Bisbee, Arizona, might feel the same way, for Lloyd Hughes carries their colors. Or New Brunswick, Canada, the birth place of Sam De Grasse. Phyllis Haver came from Douglas, Kansas and Rushville, Indiana knew Carmelita Geraghty before you did. And when the movie show opens in Forest City, Pennsylvania the folks look at Pat O'Mally's screen work with neighborly eyes. Whenever a Marie Prevost picture is shown in Sarina, Canada the whole town turns out because that's where Marie made her first appearance in the world. Port Huron, Michigan, is very proud of Colleen_ Moore, and Johnny Hines hails from Golden, Colorado, Jack Mulhall's severest critics are from his home town, Wappinger's Falls, New York. Charlie Murray comes from Laurel, Indiana, Lewis Stone from Worcester, Massachusetts, Virginia Lee Corbin from Prescott, Arizona, Mary Astor is from Quincy, G[ Barbara Kent in a scene from "War Eagles". Illinois, Doris Kcnyon from Syracuse, New York, Estellc Taylor from Wilmington, Delaware, Molly O'Day from Bayonne, New Jersey, Natalie Kingston from Villejo, California, and Ben Lyon is the pride and joy of Atlanta, Georgia. From St. Cloud, Nevada, June Marlowe was brought into the land of the films. You remember this little screen actress appeared as one of the lovely ladies with whom John Barrymorc made life so intriguing in Rome in the middle ages. And Superior, Wisconsin is the town where tiny Marion Nixon first saw the light of day. Perhaps as she was growing up the Methodists and Baptists disapproved of her a little because she so loved to dance. But you don't hear a word of that now. Texarkana, Texas has much pride in its daughter, Corinne Griffith. And if you should visit New Palestine, Ohio, all that you would hear would be Milton Sills — from morning until night. Mission, Texas will stop its work for the day to show you the exact way Ken Maynard would rope a steer. The home folks love to talk about you — once they're really convinced of your worth And that's as true in Europe as it is here in the States. The people up in Ystad, Sweden, count Anna Q. Nilsson as the Northland's finest export. But the home folks don't always give out compliments. This was particularly true a couple of years ago when scandal broke out in Lynn, Massachusetts. When the news struck the village, the town dressmaker dropped her needle and hurried up to her cousin, Walter, who worked in the Gents' Furnishing Store up on Market Street. "Say do you know that that Neil Hamilton ain't gonna be a Priest. He's give up his vocation and" here she faltered, "and gone on the stage!" • And it was true. Neil had done just that. To the disappointment of his relatives and the scandalization of the good people of Lynn. Neil himself was sad and worried. But he knew he was right. He knew he didn't have the true "call" and if he continued, he would, all his life, be a misfit in the Priesthood. So out into the world he went and did the one thing for which he was created — he became an actor. In "Beau Geste" he portrays the part of Digby. When they were filming this picture, Neil used to sit and watch the "rushes", the scenes shot that day. As he looked over them he wondered what the folks at home would think of his work, if they w-ould be proud of him and feel that he had been justified in leaving the Priesthood. To-night from a thousand celluloid counterfeits Neil Hamilton in "Beau Geste" is preaching a sermon, deep, beautiful and eloquent — the sermon of brotherly love. To-night his flock is the world. And you may be sure that a tiny part of his vast congregation — Lynn, Massachusetts — has caught his message and is inspired. The folks back home are proud of Neil Hamilton. The movie player comes home every time his films are shown and his shadow self sees his conquest of the folks he left behind. It's great to get on the little accommodation train with your near-leather bag full of dreams, and leave your home town. It's greater still to come back with those dreams realized. But it's greatest of all to have achieved your heart's desires and yet to have remained the "regular" fellow that Neil Hamilton, Harry Langdon and the others are so that in the midst of gaping crowds and pompous servants you can say as O. Henry did when he was requested to attend a banquet in his honor — "Why I'm only a boy from the country".