Screenland (Nov 1934-Apr 1935)

72 beautiful, exquisitely gowned for every occasion, thrown with handsome admirers, busy carving out a profitable career ! Ecstatic love came along for Loretta too. At seventeen there was an airplane elopement, protestations of everlasting affection. At eighteen disillusionment and divorce. Twice since men who mattered— and who have been denied her by cruel tricks of fate. Meanwhile, one picture after another a steady grind of work. Each season a better performer, more material comforts. What has it all amounted to? Is she happy? Has it been as thrilling as it seems? Becoming sophisticated so young —is it an advantage or a mistake? What has she gained and what has she lost for this movie glory? I went to Loretta's home to find out explicitly. She has a lovely Colonial place, perched on a bluff overlooking the campus of the University of California at Los Angeles. Her garden is small, but perfect — a lounging swing on the green grass, _ a honeysuckled statue sharing honors with full-blown roses as silhouettes against the hedge. Inside the tall Colonial portals the rooms are elegant but distinctly lived-m. Loretta, her freckles frankly showing, her smile generous, and her eyes aglow with that sincerity she always evinces, greeted me with a friendly handshake. Across an orchid-centered luncheon table she strove honestly to sum it all up. "I'll tell you," she said thoughtfully, ' it s been seven years in a glass cage! A very big, spectacular cage. Happy? Is anyone ever completely so ? I'm terrifically moody. Either I'm bursting with joy or I'm too disappointed in people and things to be fit Ginger Rogers says hello to New York as she starts a vacation from the studios. Years in a Gilded Cage Continued from page 51 company. I can hardly blame that on the picture business, but I wonder if I wouldn t have been happier away from this steady turmoil. . . "But that's the trouble with all of us! We want to be somewhere else when we should be attempting to find happiness within ourselves, where we are. "I'll try to explain as truthfully as I can what all this has meant to me. To begin with_yes, it is as exciting, this business of being a movie actress, as you imagine it. Definitely so. I suppose this is because I am young and susceptible to enthusiasm and progress and romance. And because, try as I can, I never can figure out sure rules for this picture game. "It isn't a happy business for a girl But then no woman or man who is ambitious^ is ever complacent and content. There is invariably more and more to be achieved. "If I had it to do again, would I choose the same path? I think so. I doubt if I could enjoy an everyday routine. Certainly I'd have to work at something and this is a fascinating 'line.' . . "You remark about becoming sophisticated so young. To me there are different brands of sophistication. I hold no brief for becoming a cynical, jaded person— at any age. But if you are referring to the common sense variety I think every girl should acquire it as soon as possible. Personally, the people who interest me most are those who obviously lean on themselves. "Often I receive sympathy for having 'sacrificed' the pleasures that should come to a girl in her 'teens. You see, I had responsibilities thrust upon me at fourteen. I didn't miss high school or college because I was literally too busy to miss them. Now looking back, I'm not sorry that I had no 'student prince' days. College seems all right for the gi'rl who wants a social life, but otherwise, judging from what I've observed, it seems rather useless to me. "It is my theory that you don't live until you are on your own, making your own decisions and choosing what you wish to do. If you select wisely the happiness is doubled because you have earned it for yourself. When you make blunders — well, your suffering makes the next bright spot brighter. "Frankly," declared Loretta when I wondered aloud some more about her in comparison to the average, non-professional girl her age, "I seldom encounter girls of my own age, outside of pictures. Not that I don't want to, but I haven't the time. And when I do meet them I'm at a loss what to say to them. I feel so much more mature and their topics sound trivial. "Recently I was in the beauty shop over there where many of the college girls go. I was intrigued by the conversation of two who were sitting under hair-dryers. I gathered that grief, the most abject sort of grief to them, was a broken date ! Please don't interpret this as an attempt to be superior. I'm endeavoring to size > up my life as it seems to me. I just don't know the sensations of the girl who merely grows up, goes to school, travels during vacations, and then marries and settles down to a quiet life. I suppose those girls are happy. I interrupted. "A lot of them would give anything to have been in your shoes. But don't digress, Loretta! Go on and outline the advantages and drawbacks of having lived for seven years in a glass cage." "The chief advantage is financial!" she responded. "Before I went into pictures I was not what you'd call well off from a money standpoint. I like nice things and SCREENLAND Hollywood has enabled me to buy them. I have this home, security for the future, and the power to help my family. "The glamor which surrounds a position in the Hollywood scheme means little to me, however. It's fun to be recognized and admired, but when you've worked awhile you know how hard it is to build up that glamor. I must spend hours on my face, my hair, my figure, my wardrobe. I have to make a deliberate effort to appear at my best. This glamor doesn't evolve from thin air. Knowing the 'framework,' I am not awed by the glamor of Hollywood as a whole." As an example of the way Loretta has labored to improve herself, I recall that only two years ago she wore bands to make her teeth straighten While she was acting she could wear them just at night. But the rest of the time she wore them continuously for five months she didn't have a date. When I reminded her of that task, she grinned, "Well, I'm human and how could I look romantic of an evening with bands on my teeth !" She continued, "It's also an advantage to be associated with brilliant people and Hollywood's full of them. They stimulate you and forestall boredom. A career, too, is a superb antidote for personal musings. There's invariably something about a career to worry over ! ' "And now for the drawbacks. What strikes me as the main one, and what has hurt me most since I've been in Hollywood, is the gossip which trails movie fame. Because I'm an actress, I'm supposed to be a nut! All of us are suspected of being ■Bohemian. I appreciate intelligent, helpful criticism, but I loathe the lies which are circulated. Why do people repeat the most absurd rumors? As an instance, the other day I heard that Georgiana, my nine-yearold sister, was my daughter! Who instigates such things and why? "FYs easy to advise me not to be annoyed by gossip. I can't be indifferent for the most important thing in life to me is to be able to die with a clear conscience! I know I should only be concerned with keeping my ideals intact, but I'm vain enough to want everyone to think well of me. "Personally, my greatest satisfaction to date is the knowledge that I've achieved a degree cf success. There is a unique thrill in demonstrating that you can deliver in the profession you go into. Oh, of course, I'm nowhere completely satisfied. I shan't be until I can enter a theatre and be pleased by my own performance. As it is, I can sight terrible flaws. I'm always depressed after a preview, for I've worked so hard and often everything I've done in a picture seems bad to me. "That's getting off the track again! I was going to say that the other important drawback has been this : I've lost my freedom. My work ties me to Hollywood. And it has made me so conspicuous that I can't do a lot of average things because people will spot me and follow me. "Pictures make me furious when I'm tired and yearn for a genuine vacation. For years I've dreamt of a trip to Europe. I ve planned to go a half-dozen times. I'm dying to see Honolulu, too. Why, I've been to New York only twice. Once for personal appearances which kept me in a theatre, and the second time I had only ten days there. Frequently I wait around for weeks for a new picture to start, or for retakes— when I might have been away having a glimpse of the world outside Hollywood. "I've concluded, from living in this mael