Screenland (May-Oct 1928)

80 SCREENLAND \fl ^t^CUU ^)lOY]z — Continued from page 31 now twenty-three. He's a little more dig' nified, maybe; but that's a help, because when he left New York for Hollywood he was a shade too shy. His mother sat next to him at the luncheon, and when Mr. Lasky referred to her and asked her to take a bow, the lady from Kansas who contributed the leading juvenile to the screen looked very proud and happy. And Buddy looked happy, too. About that 'Buddy.' He says he tried to live it down. On the screen, in all the billing, he was just plain Charles Rogers. But all the fans who wrote to him called him Buddy. And he finally decided it was a compliment, and now he'll stick to it, and he may even be billed in the future as Charles 'Buddy' Rogers. While I talked to him in his hotel suite the phone kept ringing. Mostly the calls were from old boy friends and Buddy's end of the conversation usually ran something like this: "Why didn't you call me before? Why, of course, I remember you. Are you trying to high-hat me? Come right on up." Buddy is just as enthusiastic and eager as he ever was. And he proved, when he made a radio 'appearance,' that he can still make that old trombone wail. He's a nice boy, and clean-cut, and handsome — everything 'a movie star should be. Why, yes — didn't you know? Good old Papa Paramount is conferring stardom on Buddy Rogers. His first will probably be a college story called Tale, and Buddy will be coming east again soon to take scenes at New Haven. Now, girls — don't push! Vilma Banky and her "English language" stopped off for a few days on. their way back from Europe to Hollywood. Rod was a huge success with the home folks in Hungary. Vilma's mother is so little she only comes up to Rod's breastpocket. She liked her big new son-in-law the minute she saw him. All Budapest was down at the train to greet their favorite daughter and her favorite movie star. Mrs. Banky, as soon as Vilma wrote her that Rod La Rocque was about to become a member of the family, hurried out to see him in Red Dice — the first time she had encountered him in celluloid. It happened that in this picture Rod first appears in shabby clothes, in a sort of tramp character; and Mama Banky was a little distressed until, as the story developed, her daughter's choice had a chance to dress up and look more like his suave, elegant self; and then she cabled her approval. If you asked Vilma the old question, "Tell me pretty maiden, are there any more at home like you?" she could truthfully answer, Yes. She has a fifteen year old sister whose one ambition is to become an American movie star, "just like Vilma." When one of sister's pictures play in Budapest, little sister sees it through twice, enthralled; and then comes home and acts Vilma's part herself, with added flourishes. When she's a little older she may come to Hollywood to visit Vilma; and then we'll see her. There is also a brother Banky, who is interested in the pictures from the directing end. With true independence he has gone to England to make his own way as a director before trying his luck in Hollywood, where his famous si6ter is so well established. Vilma, of course, is as pretty as the proverbial picture. She's a Greuze maiden come to life. Her English is getting better all the time but she still turns to Rod when she can't find the word. Her delicacy and quiet charm are an interesting contrast to Rod's swagger and exuberance. They're a picturesque couple, the La Rocques. Ronald Colman slipped away to England and slipped back again — shy and retiring as usual. He was amazed and distressed to find that London recognized him and that crowds followed him wherever he went. Ronald is a miracle of the movies — a popular star who just can't believe it's all true, and who would really rather stay at home with a good book than make a personal appearance. Imagine! Comedy from contented comedians — how's that for a slogan? The happier the funny boys are kept in real life, the better they will perform on the screen. Look at Charlie Chase. Does he brood and long to play Hamlet? Not Charles. He's the original contented kidder. He likes his work making two-reelers for Hal Roach and he doesn't care who knows it. He's been making them for three years now and he'll keep right on turning them out as long as people continue to pay to see 'em. Three cheers for Charles! He looks more like a prosperous young business man than a movie actor. He's tall with humorous blue eyes and dark hair that's turning white at the temples. You know how interesting white hair is, in the right place. He used to be a director until one day he decided to double in brass and play a part too. He was so good that the home office wired the studio to take his megaphone away from him and put him in grease-paint permanently. Now he makes one two-reeler a month for Hal Roach-Metro Goldwyn, and if you think that isn't a job you have never sat in on a gag meeting. The Chase comedies are always funny and what's more, almost always true to life. He gets his ideas from his next-door neighbor, from folks he sees on the street and at the ball game, from the clerk at the corner drug-store. He used to work in a drug-store himself, when he was fifteen years old. But he wasn't satisfied. He'd heard that the popular songsinger in the movie theatre around the corner was getting fifteen a week for warbling in accompaniment to the colored slides thrown on the screen. That was ten dollars a week more than Charlie was getting. So when he heard that the singer had left, Charlie trotted around to see the manager of the theatre . "Can you sing?" asked the manager. "Sure I can sing," answered Charlie. And as it turned out, he could! Eventually he left his home-town with a musical comedy troupe, and reached Broadway. From Broadway to Hollywood isn't so far. He'd like to play the leads in " Burlesque and Broadway when those popular New York shows of stage-life reach the screen. But he knows he can't because he's all sewed up in his contract. And — he isn't worrying. There have been lots of girls in pictures who have been dubbed "the girl next door," apparently m tribute to certain homey qualities. But I have really only just met my first one. She is Marceline Day, and she is as nice and eager and natural and sweet as that mythical "girl next door." She has spent the last two or three years of her nineteen in the film studios but it hasn't made her any different from the average school-girl of her age whose one great dream is just to peek inside the gates. Marceline is young and wholesome. So is Mrs. Day, her mother. She isn't the kind of movie mother that only a daughter could love. She's a regular. It was their first visit to New York. Marceline came to be Buster Keaton's leading woman in a news-reel comedy, and they were making New York street scenes. Next time the Days come east they will bring Alice along. She was working so she couldn't make it. Marceline is one year younger than sister Alice. ..She has pretty blue eyes and a refreshing gamin ' Evelyn Brent and Adolphe Menjou might as well ta\e off those tric\ hats — we'd \now them anyway. You'll see this scene in 'His Tiger Lady.'