We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
64
SCREENLAND
June Collyer came to town for a visit but found herself rushed into a talking picture.
Harold Lloyd is the only film star who can travel around New York without being recognized.
Jeanette MacDonald, the newest talkie rave of "The Love Parade," sandwiched a Manhattan vacation between pictures.
DICK Barthelmess has gone abroad — to give his larynx a rest, and his wife a good time. Like all the other film stars of the silent regime, he has found the making of talking pictures no more difficult than an animal trainer would find tight rope dancing. And like other film stars who have made a big success in this new art, he decided that he had earned a trip to Europe. So after he completed his work in "Son of the Gods," he hopped the flyer for New York.
At the Savoy Plaza where he stopped with his wife
IN NEW
Film Stars Brighten the White Way
before sailing, I called to see him. Over the afternoon coffee cups, he said: "I'm really here for pleasure. I don't want to talk business. Do you mind?" Of course I didn't mind. So I just settled down in my big chair and listened lazily while Barthelmess and his wife spoke of their intended trip. "Rome at Christmas" . . ."Winter sports in Switzerland where the waiters skate over the ice carrying champagne to thirsty onlookers". . . "Carnival time in Munich where nobody goes to bed until the last handful of confetti is thrown, the last balloon exploded". . ."Down the blue Mediterranean to Egypt" . . ."Back to Hollywood in time for spring."
You see Dick is of Bavarian extraction, way back, and still has an uncle in Munich. So he is visiting Europe primarily to introduce his wife to his Bavarian relations. Clannish, those Bavarians.
Dick is looking awfully well. In his herringbone suit, white shirt and dark tie, he seemed positively collegiate — except for his eyes. They were frankly tired. But a good rest will fix all that.
And, by the way, right here is the place to say that Mrs. Richard Barthelmess is a personage. Not a bit beautiful. But slight and slim and distinguished. In a navy blue dress and straight off-the-face hat, her deep, husky laughter and her lovely white hands brought an intimate charm into the room — a charm you rarely find in the wives of celebrities. Wives of celebrities are usually bored or miserable or frightened. But Mrs. Barthelmess struck me as a woman who was enjoying life. She is certainly an intelligent wife. Sophisticated enough to keep her hus