Screenland (May-Oct 1929)

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104 "Whenever you're mad," said Percy Hfl' burn, head camera man. And what he meant was, in case you are not up on the latest sound expressions, that he was ready when they were. No one seems to know where the expression came from. It is just one of those things. "How much time have we, Virginia?" asked Mr. Niblo. "Twenty-five minutes, Mr. Niblo," Virginia replied, looking at the trolley schedule. "Fine." Hairy Bucquet gave the signal to the officer to relay it to the ditch diggers and with his other hand gave the boys the high sign to chase the birds. Silence was called. Everything was ready. The 'mixer' started his various buzzers of communication with the studio recording room while every eye was upon Mr. Niblo and all of us held our breath. Just as the signal for action was being given we heard a droning sound which grew louder and louder! "An airplane overhead, sir!" breathed a property boy. It is an everlasting credit to Fred Niblo's self control that he did not at this point burst into flames. Instead, he turned on his heel and took three quick steps, at the same time running the fingers of one hand through his hair. "Hold it, everybody," he called. The droning passed, the buzzers buzzed, the signal for the action was given and the scene progressed smoothly to a close, at last. Eleanor Boardman was waving to me from her perch in the carriage. "Will you tell Claire McDowell's numbers?" she asked of me. I had told her fortune by numerology a few days before and we had had a lot of fun. I climbed into the barouche and started to work them out. It was too much for Mr. Nagel, evidently, for he walked away. But I didn't get far because in a few minutes they were ready to shoot again. Eleanor leaned over to me and whispered, "Get out, but come back!" as I scrambled hastily out of camera range. The group worked steadily all afternoon so Miss McDowell is still waiting to hear her numbers, but I promised to do them for her when the picture was finished. When the light turned yellow we listened to the play backs right there under the trees. It was quite thrilling to hear the voices coming from a little black box, and the recording was the best I have ever heard. If it is possible to keep the whole production to that level "Redemption" would beat all sound pictures so far in perfection of tone. Next day Jack Gilbert was there in costume. He wore a smock of the most gorgeous shade of scarlet — almost a cardinal red — which several members of the outfit had their eye upon. "They're going home with me, all three of them," said Jack. "Oh, you might spare one," said Virginia Kellogg. '"Why. what do you want to do, Virginia, go swimming or smocking? You'd swim in this certainly," teased Jack. But Virginia was unconvinced. Lena Malena was pacing up and down, cramming her lines like a school girl before an examination. I cued her a few times before she was called. Lena is working hard on her English and singing, so that her already clear voice will lose its accent. John Gilbert had mounted the stunning white horse he was to ride into camp. The gypsies stop singing "Dark Eyes" when they see him and all stand to give him a rousing welcome. Eleanor Boardman looks to see what all the fuss is about. Seeing Jack for the first time she never takes her eyes from his face during the scene that follows. The 'dark man," although the girl is hardly SCREENLAND aware of it, had stepped into her life. Lena, who was a little nervous at first, made a mistake in one line, and I expect she was tremendously relieved when Jack made a mistake, too. When he sees Eleanor Boardman he takes a wreath of flowers and walking over to her says, "It is a custom here to give flowers to strange ladies." That was the line. Imagine our amusement when we heard him say, "It is a custom here to give ladies to — oh!" and Jack joined heartily in the laugh against himself. And I don't want to rob him of a graceful gesture by mentioning it, but I have a sneaking suspicion that Jack spoke the line deliberately, to make Lena feel more comfortable. It would have been like him to do it. Someone was humming a tune on the side lines. To my astonishment I heard the words, "Interlocking papa, you can't soft wax me!" Virginia came to my rescue. "That's our college song," she said. But even after her explanation it was all too technical for me. I went over to a wooden horse and draped myself over it to rest my bones. You become so interested in the scenes that you forget you are tired. Very soon, Mr. Gilbert joined me. I told him I had held something against him for over six years. He wanted to know what it was. Someone told me, I said, that after he made "The Count of Monte Cristo" he had gone on a location to San Francisco and on the hotel register had signed that title instead of his own name. If I had shot him Jack couldn't have been more startled. "What do you think I am? Do you writers think we are all a bunch of conceited jackdaws?" That made me mad! My father was a Shakesperian actor, teacher and scholar, and I've been mixed up in the theater one way or another all my life, so I thought I knew something of its people. Jack and I almost knocked each other off the horse, metaphorically speaking, before we remembered that this was a location and not a squared circle! But we ended good friends. Jack said the talking pictures almost had him licked at first. He didn't think he would ever be able to adjust himself to them. He even thought he would liquidate all his holdings and step out of pictures, forever, and then he decided that was not the thing to do. "I realized that talking pictures could give me up with much less tragedy than I could give them up, and that the thing for me to do was to battle it out." I have been told that John Gilbert is conceited, but that didn't sound to me like the speech of a conceited man. Docs it? He is dying to play "Journey's End," the play now running in New York with only men in the cast and no love interest. And Metro will buy it for him, too, if Sam Goldwyn doesn't get it for Ronald Colman first. For a talking film I suppose Ronnie would be a better choice because the characters arc English and Ronnie is English and Jack isn't, although he doesn't roll his r's the way some American do. He is very much interested in doing "Redemption," too, but he is not giving it just the interpretation he wanted to, because there is always Mr. Thalberg reminding him that this world is filled with box offices and that one has to give the public an interpretation that it will like and understand. And Jack has tried to do this. He never saw John Barrymore do the piece on the stage, so. his impression of Fedya is not biased by traditions of any kind, and it is a very definite one. "All ready. Jack," said Mr. Niblo, whereupon Mr. Gilbert excused himself to me and made for the snappiest dressing-table I ever saw on location. The makeup case stands on a steel tripod and contains brushes and combs and heaven knows what, as well as makeup. It has a little contraption for holding a mirror in place. You could put the whole thing up anywhere with as little trouble as you would have to unfold a card table. "If this is a good one we can go to lunch." said Mr. Niblo, and all the boys and girls brightened. But there was some line trouble that no one could locate so we went to lunch while they worked on it. We piled into cars and went to the studio because it was so near. Everyone had cither conferences or wardrobe to worry about so Virginia and I trotted off by ourselves. The studio commissary was jammed to the doors. There was a big scene on the Marion Davies set that filled the cafe with extras. We then trotted to a little cafe across the street where we dined with the quality. For who should be there but Nils Asther looking very bright and cheerful and 0[ Polly Moran and Marie Dressier are reunited in the "Metro-Goldwyn extravaganza, the "Hollywood Revue of 1929."