Screenland (May-Oct 1928)

78 And she stayed that way all through the picture. All the cast loved making it. Grandma Bernle most of all. After the last scene was taken, she went to her dressing room and put her head down on the make-up table and cried. She didn't want that wonderful picture to be over. She didn't know, then, that the Fox people were to be so enthusiastic over her work that they would offer her a two-year contract at a splendid salary, that special stories were to be written for her, that she was to be a star! SCREENLAND The trip to New York, to appear at the opening on Broadway; the flowers, and the interviews, and the photographs — all the paraphernalia of stardom must be even more amazing and wonderful at sixty than at twenty. Twenty takes it for granted. Sixty is appreciative, because sixty has worked and hoped for so long. And sixty is young, too, if you're happy. The day after the opening of Four Sons, Margaret Mann was literally besieged by reporters and photographers. But she sneaked off by herself and went over to the Roxy to see a picture. Not one of her own pictures, either — but a film in which a little girl neighbor of hers was making her debut. One of her 'adopted' children, whose success was as real and important as her own. Margaret Mann is an American citizen now. But she hasn't forgotten the home folks. A brother whom she hasn't seen for forty years is on his way from Scotland to Hollywood to see the sister whom the movies have made famous — at sixty! Y0Uflg DoUg Did B — Continued from page 33 his salary in two. "I thought it might be a pretty good idea if I learned to act," said Douglas, as he was recounting how he hit bottom, "so I resigned from Paramount and started taking dramatic lessons from Frank Reicher." But as he still refused to accept help from anybody, he now had to support himself by free-lancing in pictures. It was during this time he was given, a small part in Stella Dallas. The legitimate stage, however, was the young man's goal. Here he would not be placed in hopeless comparison with his famous father. But where was the stage that would give him a chance to show if he had any dramatic ability? The Writers' Club! — that crucible that has turned up so much surprising talent. He was given a part in one of the monthly one-act plays. The name Douglas Fairbanks Jr. created little interest on a program that invariably contained the greatest names in Movieland. Furthermore, as the sophisticated auditors had seen the young man on the screen, they were prepared to be mildly disappointed in him. Some, no doubt, expected Douglas to burst upon the scene with the well-known smiling exuberance of his joyous dad. Instead, there appeared a tall, quiet, serious-minded young man with the poise and charm of a well trained actor of the stage. Perhaps the most interested spectators at that notable performance were Doug and Mary. Sitting unobserved in the back of the Playroom, Doug was as nervous as a hop-toad, but as the scene went on and he noted the resonant fluency with which his son read his lines, and the ease with which he used his handsome young body, he looked about at the approving smiles on the faces of his neighbors, and exclaimed: "By gad, Mary, the boy can act!" One more play at The Writers' and Douglas was cast for the title role in Young Woodley at one of the big down-town theatres. Here he played opposite Doris Lloyd — who, by the way, because of her notable work in The Writers' Club plays, has at last been discovered by the picture producers! — and the combination created a dramatic sensation. For a necessarily limited run of three weeks Young Woodley enjoyed capacity houses, then went up north and played for three weeks more with The Theatre Guild of San Francisco. So well received was Douglas in that very cosmopolitan and artistic city that he was curtaincalled and called until he had to come out and make a speech. Saturday's Children was his next dramatic venture, and his success in it only proved that his initial triumph was in no sense due to accident or novelty. Of course the pictures are after him now! Not, however, as a youthful copy of his father, but as a young actor with a distinct and charming personality of his own. And nobody is prouder of Douglas Jr. than Douglas Sr. — except, perhaps, his devoted mother. Delight Evans' Reviews — ■ Continued from page 45 THE LATEST FROM PARIS The latest from Norma Shearer is accepted with thanks right now, as far as I am concerned. It's her best in a long time. Not much of a vehicle, maybe — but it does give our Norma a chance to exhibit her own special brand of pre-war, highpowered charm. She should always play ultra-modern girls. No more Kathies! Beneath her delicate beauty, Miss Shearer has a strain of steel which is essentially twentieth-century stuff. She's a go-getter, and this picture, The Latest From Paris, presents her with the part of a lady traveling-salesman, and how she gets the orders is everybody's business. She gets 'em on merit — and if her customers fall for her, that's their own hard luck. She isn't that kind of a traveling-man. Our heroine even applies her smart business methods to the game of love, and before she knows it she is under contract for life, to Ralph Forbes, a rival salesman. Girls will be girls, no matter what. And when they wear such clothes as Norma wears so smartly, it's all right with us. FEEL MY PULSE Recommended for anyone with hearttrouble — and who hasn't heart-trouble of one kind or another? Even if you haven't, which I don't believe, you are apt to have after watching Bebe Daniels in her adventures as a hypochondriac who mistakes a speak-easy for a sanatarium. It doesn't really matter, matter, matter — Bebe is cured just the same. There are cases — and cases, as this comedy will prove. Richard Arlen as a brave young reformed boot-legger is positively guaranteed to produce violent heart-murmurs among the young ladies in the audience. And Bebe can always be depended upon to furnish pulsating pulchritude. The moral of Feel My Pulse is fall in love and forget your troubles. Try to find a Richard Arlen or a Bebe Daniels before you fall. They Say — Continued from page 73 Time makes such a difference in a great many of us. A few weeks ago out Burbank way where Jack Mulhall was finishing up with Dorothy Mackail in Man Crazy, there was a scene where he had to eat coffee and doughnuts. They took the scene over and over again, but not one word of objection came from Jack. I went over to him between scenes. "Say," I announced, "I've already counted eight doughnuts that you've eaten, and four cups of coffee that you've downed. If this scene is shot once more I'm pretty near certain that you'll explode." Jack smiled, and a sort of far-away look came in his eyes. "I'll never turn away from "coffee and,' " he slowly said. "If you've ever been without the price of it, with the emptiest stomach on earth simply yelling for relief, you know how friendly 'coffee and' can be after some pal loans a dime. If you never have been without the price, then you can't possibly imagine what a beautiful feed 'coffee and' has been to me." And now I understand how Jack, without a word, downed another four whole doughnuts before the shooting was finished. I have recently seen The King of Kings for the first time. Many folks have told me this and that about the production, but it took seeing it for me to find out something for myself. Maybe it is on account of the tone and theme of the picture that it struck me so forcibly, and of course you'd have to be a part of Hollywood, as I am to have it hit home. It is this: — they are all there in the production. By that I mean that among all those faces in The King of Kings every single little bit is played by some actor or actress who has been struggling around Hollywood for many, many years, and as in the case of all De Mille players, he hasn't forgotten one single one of them in his King of Kings. When I recognized face after face, a feeling came to me that is somewhat akin to the Christian-like spirit of the picture. I knew that on account of The King of Kings and this man that Hollywood calls 'C. B.,' many folks ate regularly for at least a .time. And when 'C. B.' makes his next picture, no matter what it may be, he won't forget again. Yes, 'C. B.' knows them all, and what's more, he never does forget.