Screenland (Jun-Oct 1932)

for July 1932 79 violation of good taste to have it there, either on stage or screen. But if it is put in merely to shock or create a sensation, and has nothing to do with the theme of the story, then it is bad taste. You see, bad taste is merely something that is out of place. Good taste is something that fits in its place. There are no hard-andfast rules in screen taste. Each picture must be judged separately." Which I thought pretty fine criticism — in fact, one of the best I'd ever heard. I shoot again : "How far does criticism affect the suc I cess of pictures ?" "If a picture is good, a critic cannot kill it. As Henry Irving said, a critic may retard the success of a good production, (and this applies also to the screen), but can , not kill it. "On the whole, I think the newspaper critics hit it very close on every picture. We need good, sound criticism, for this 1 criticism, as a general thing, follows the public taste. The critic becomes automatically the reflection of the majority. Whether he knows it or not, he, like all of us, is governed a good deal by audiencereaction." And I thought this a pretty shrewd exposition of the critic and the audience. But the General was started. He laid aside his yearly report as he shot things at 1 me. He knows a lost art in talking — the delightful art of rambling. Here's what I wrote down as fast as it came out of the mouth of Will Hays in answer to various questions : "Xot only have I learned, but I learn continually from the folks in my birthplace, Sullivan, Indiana. How much, indeed, are opinions influenced, principles shaped, activities directed by early forces. My work in national politics, as Postmaster General, and with the motion picture industry has kept me away from home much of the Meet "The General" Continued from page 27 time, but I can trace every single one of my fundamental opinions and the resultant activities directly back to the folks in Sullivan. "The story that went around in the newspapers that my chauffeur was a stenographer and that in driving about the country I would relieve him at the wheel while he took dictation was only a yarn ; but the story is not a yarn about my dictating to stenographers while eating, while shaving, while motoring, while doing almost everything else. "The way to get work done is to keep at it. I decline to accept criticism for my incessant use of the telephone. I learned to use the telephone in Sullivan. We don't have as many trains in Sullivan as they do in some other places, nor as continuous telegraph service ; but the telephone works there, and I make no apology for the pseudonym of 'Telephone Bill!' "I got my most definite literary stimulus from my father, who continually managed to inculcate in me an interest in good books. On a recent visit home I found put away in a safety deposit box a ledger which shows he presented it to me on my eleventh birthday, and in which he had written the request that I should note the name of every book I read and with a brief review tell the impression it made on me. I faithfully kept up that record until I was through college. As I looked over it the other day, re-reading the boyish scrawls on the earlier pages I found in an elaborate discussion of 'Scottish Chiefs' the beginning of a taste, literary or otherwise— but anyway for reading — that has endured. "I glimpse no end to the development of pictures. The talking picture may even revolutionize the stage and the drama of the world. Vividness, focus, and the sense of reality have made every patron of the pictures — hundreds of millions throughout the world — different. Everyone now romanticizes, dramatizes himself or herself in picture terms, sometimes unconsciously, sometimes deliberately. "From the films your boy and my boy may be learning more than they learn from books or from schools. The impressions they are receiving may be deeper and morelasting than those from any other source. All pictures cannot be made for children, but there are certain standards of common decency that have nothing to do with age or geography, and those will be found and maintained. "When I think of the part motion pictures are playing in my boy's future, I read again the standards which the Motion Picture Producers and Distributors of America bave set as their aim : 'To establish and maintain the highest possible moral and artistic standard in motion picture production and to develop the educational as well as the entertainment value and general usefulness of motion pictures.' I think it would be hard to state a finer, more worthwhile purpose. "The influence of the motion picture on our national life is limitless — its influence on our taste, its influence on our conduct, its influence on our aspirations, its influence on our youth, its consequent immeasurable influence on our future." "What, General, are your principal recreations?" I rushed in. "First of all, I love my work. Like Jack London, my work and play are often one. Love your work and keep young. Well, I like detective and mystery stories, and good romances, too. "Then, there's horseback riding. Lately I bought two horses from Fred Stone, one for myself and one for my boy — but, see here, do you know I was only going to give you ten minutes ?" I fled, leaving the Hon. Will H. Hays deep in figgers. Sally Eilers and Hoot Gibson Continued from page 33 his Saugus, California, ranch. It delighted Sally's heart, for many of the socially great of the film colony were present, thanks to Gibson's position, and she found herself ascending again to prominence. As Airs. Gibson, she was presented with opportunities that had been lost to her as Sally Eilers. Now let her tell you of the events that wrought such remarkable changes in her attitude and mind : "Before my marriage, I never thought for myself," Sally says. "I never had great responsibilities. I lived with my parents, and though we w-ere never wealthy, I did not want for things. Motion pictures were simply a game. I wanted to be a star, but not because it meant a career and accomplishment; my only thoughts were that stars were worshipped by the world, had more money than they could possibly spend, and were the envy of millions of other women. I want to have my school chums say, 'Gee, Sally Eilers is a motion picture star.' "Soon after I married Hooter" — she has her own nickname for Gibson — "he turned over to me the responsibility of caring for the family finances. I signed a check for fifteen thousand dollars and it struck me like a cold towel. I suddenly realized that a fifteen thousand dollar check was two hundred times greater than any I had ever written before. It was as much money as some men make in ten years of hard work. I abruptly awakened to the seriousness of my position as Mr. Gibson's wife. I realized I had my work cut out for me ; that I had something to do besides play. / had responsibilities. "Not long after our marriage, I accompanied Hooter to New York, where he contracted to make personal appearances. I had always wanted to go to New York. I had dreamed of the good times to be had there. But as Airs. Gibson, whose husband was working until nearly midnight in the theatres, those good times were missing. I had to sit alone at night and wait for him to come home. I could not go out with any young man who telephoned, as I had done before my marriage. I complained to Hooter, and we had our first family tiff. During the quarrel, which seemed very serious at the moment but was not, really, he said, 'If you don't like it here, why don't you go home?' I suppose every husband has at one time or another told every wife to go home, but the invitation was like another dash of cold water. Home? What home ? Could I give up all I had to return to the improbabilities of being Miss Eilers again? I suddenly realized that I was en tirely dependent on my husband and I did not like it. Most modern women are that way ; they want independence. "I guess Fate intervened, because next morning I received a telegram to return to Hollywood for a part in a new picture. I accepted, kissed Hooter goodbye — we had made up our little quarrel — and returned to the studios. But how different things were ! I found I wanted to accomplish something. I wanted success, not for silly reasons but for the independence it meant. I plunged into my work with a seriousness that must have surprised studio officials." Word of the change in Sally's work spread like wildfire. Fox officials, who had previously given her chances but dropped her when she refused to be serious, recalled her for another opportunity. Then came "Bad Girl" and Sally's name reached the electric lights. Public and critics alike hailed her as a new discovery. "Over the Hill" and "Dance Team" followed in rapid succession, and in one short year she sprang from oblivion to cinematic heights. She was given a new contract. She became a star. Old school chums began to envy her, but Sally got no thrill out of their envy. Men flocked about her, eager for her smiles, but their idolization failed to excite her. Only one thing swelled Sally's head