Screenland (Nov 1934-Apr 1935)

88 You were beautiful last night at the theatre. I sat across the aisle from you ... an ardent but un' known admirer. sionary spirit had been thwarted. She felt thai in ;i measure she had let her people down. Moreover, she had learned that electricians totally ignorant of music, could — as she expressed it — "change my tones because they 'like it louder,' simply by turning a gadget or screw between their fingers 1" Last winter an opportunity came to make another picture. At Columbia, the smallest studio in Hollywood but one that has grown rapidly into prominence recently on account of a succession of splendid pictures, producer Harry Cohn installed some amazing new sound equipment. When it was pronounced technically perfect, after many, many tests, the singer consented to try again, in the hope that she could fulfill her desire to send real opera to those who live outside of great metropolitan centers. She completed "One Night of bCREENLAND Love," and the success of her picture is still being proclaimed by the public as well as critics. Hailed as sensational, there is no doubt but that Grace Moore's picture marks the beginning of a new era for the cinema and perhaps for opera as well. Jn 1 lollywood the singer is being hailed as a new and glamorous screen star. This praise, appreciated though it is, means not so much to Grace Moore as the fact that through her unconquerable desire to sing — sing with the full glory of her God-given voice for which she has worked and sacrificed much — she has opened a path to those who long for music of the highest type. And down in Jellico, Tennessee, tier success means — she is still just "Grade" Moore, the little girl who liked to fly on her own wings, and has never tired of trying ! T liked the music of your laughter ... the flash of • I liked your glamorous hair, your But when you walked down the aisle, I felt sorry for you . . . and I was disappointed. Please, Dear Lady, if you have a corn, use BlueJay.* It's so safe, so simple! 1. Just soak your foot for 10 minutes in hot water and wipe it dry. 2. Apply Blue-Jay, centering pad over corn. Pad relieves pressure, stopspain at once. 3. After 3 days, remove plaster, soak foot and lift out corn. It's so safe and gentle! * Blue-Jayisafriendly,safe remedy for corns. It stops their ache instantly, removes them scientifically in j days. Every drug store sells BlueJay at 25c a pack' age. Made by Bauer 6? Black, famous surgical dressing house. Special si;es for bunions and calluses. HOW BLUE-JAY WORKS a is the B 6? B Medication that gently undermines the corn. bis the felt pad that relieves the ' pressure, stops the pain at once. C is the adhesive strip that holds pad in place, pre* vents slipping. BLUE J AY BAUER & BLACK'S SCIENTIFIC CORN REMO V E R FREE BOOKLET — Contains helpful information for foot sufferers. Also valuable exercises for foot health and beauty. Address Bauer 6? Black, 2500 S. Dearborn St., Chicago y{ame — Street City ■ © The Kendall Company Will He Rival Chaplin? Continued from page 33 Russian buffoon who runs a one-horse circus. His troupe shattered by the revolution, he hires a fleeing noble family who claim to be actors, and maybe they are. Naturally, he falls in love — hopelessly — with the booful young princess of the tribe, and after adventures grave and gay he and his horse wander off into the good old sunset. It's all pantomime for little Savo. He has a handful of lines, but his eyes, his pathetic little body, and his fluttering hands tell the story. Having star and story, the Hecht-MacArthur troupe moved quietly upstate, like y»do. They turned a whole county first topsy arti !h turvy Twelve rural inns were commandeered to nouse the troupe. A nearby orphanage was calmly absorbed, and 600 fatherless and motherless kids had the time of their lives racing up and down hill for the camera. They got a quarter a day a piece, plus a noble box lunch, but they would cheerfully have been movie actors for nothing at all. And what a company surrounds the silent little man! There's Nfkita Balieff as a Russian general. Famous as boss of the "Chauve Souris," he's been coming to America since 1921 and his English gets worse each year. He sounds like a bunch of firecrackers. You'll howl at his bigmoon face. There is the honored vet, Cecelia Loftus, and the beautiful Whitney Bourne of "Crime Without Passion," and Edwina Armstrong as the princess with whom Savo falls dumbly but desperately in love. And the wrestlers — oh, the bone-crunchers ! As huge Russian military men the producers signed Sandor Szabo and Hans Steinke, well known professional burpers, each 225 pounds of lard and gristle ! And as to Savo. I saw him at work on the set — a tiny, browbeaten sparrow set upon by huge and cruel men who meant him no good. Beyond the camera lines were fifty directors, actors, technicians and general loafers, and Jimmy held 'em like a vise ! I talked to him. Naturally, he's happy at this big movie shot, but he takes it in stride. He's been in show business too long to dither about anything, even new fame. Here's for your dope book, you fans. He got his fun, when a lad, on the w.k. sidewalks of New Yawk. One day he saw a street juggler, and ambition bit him on the ankle. He would juggle, too, and he did. Remember that another Great Man, one W. C. Fields, got his start juggling cigar boxes. And that still another, one Joe Cook, juggled Indian clubs before he jug gled the risibilities of millions. Maybe we should all juggle. Anyhow, Savo did, and passed through "amateur nights" to the usual wandering life of vaudeville. In 1924 he got his first revue job, and began his greater career as a pantomime artist. Soon he discarded juggling altogether. Broadway has known and loved the droll little bird for a decade. When the call came, he was ready to be offered to the biggest audience of all — us film fans. Jimmy's a married man, and his wife and son live on a ranch at Van Nuys, California— a walnut farm, of course. (It would be a nut farm!) And it's odd to note that Savo, whose silent work is the sort that Europeans adore, has never been outside the United States. Well, consider yourselves properly introduced to this great little man, Mr. Jimmy Savo. Of course, like the hippopotamus, he must really be seen to be fully appreciated. A master of the comedy of pathos — of the pathos of comedy. His big brown spaniel's orbs can pour tears over his bootless adoration for the little princess — and the next minute sparkle devilishly as he sets a booby-trap for one of the huge rassling Rooshians. Savo's comedy is of the real royal line. His work is not concerned with the struggle of man against man, nor even of man against a Nubian lion, but it is of Man against Fate — that inscrutable, irresistible Something that pushes men around in this world. It's Chaplin's trick, and Savo's trick, and the trick of all great artists of DumbShow. Any great artist's in any field, in fact. You're going to see the names of Chaplin and Savo coupled a lot in the next few months. You're going to see and hear a lot of odoriferous comparisons made. There'll be some misguided talk of a "new Chaplin," probably — which is like talking of a new Taj Mahal or a new Garbo. It's unavoidable. I want no part of this. I'm content to squeeze in early in the game with the news that a great new comedian is headed your way. And I'll go so far as to say that Jimmy won't get any the worst of it when the foul comparing begins. So I urge you to welcome Mr. Jimmy Savo to the ranks of filmdom's favorite sons. The priceless makers of laughter who do so much to ease the agony of living. When you see "Little Clown, Laugh," you won't need any hints. You'll love the little wistful wop for himself alone !