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for February 1936
19
When it comes to fancy censorship, your fussy film favorites have the clean-up drivers beaten a mile
By
Dorothy Manners
ing romantic, Bing Crosby, utter one line of love dialogue in a picture !
Far be it from me to argue that these personal by-laws, laid down by some of our leading lovers, have their inspiration in making the world safer for six-year-olds, or in any other uplift movement for keeping sex-appeal down. In short, the motives are not nearly so publicspirited, as private ! The deeper you get into the subject, the more likely you are to discover that it is pretty cute the way some very professional and public romantics are carrying on the ideals of their private life romances right under your nose without the world suspecting a thing. As just a bare inkling of the sort of thing I'm driving at, consider the former set-antics that used to go on when the Joan Blondell-George Barnes love story was at its private-life height. George used to photograph all Joan's pictures, you remember, and he was always all right until they got into the love scenes. Then, there are those who will tell you, Mr. Barnes' eye never left the camera spy-glass during one wistful screen sigh as Mrs. Barnes emoted. And just by way of proving to George that it was all in good, clean fun, (no matter how hectic the dialogue, or how ardently she had to
Joan Crawford wit! never look lonpingly into any leading man's eyes — save Franchot Tone's, above. Note, at left above, how distant Joan can be in a tender scene with Brian Aherne. You'll be amused and amazed to read in the accompanying feature story just why you never see Fred Astai.-e and Ginger Rogers do a real kissing scene in one of their films.
mutter into the ear of an alien male), Joan would cross her fingers at Georgie-Porgy behind the camera ! Who says that the soul of romance is dead in Hollywood — even if they are divorced now ?
Perhaps even more tender and subtle is the inspiration back of Franchot Tone's polite, but stubborn refusal to gaze deeply into the eyes of any actress other than Joan Tone. Even when her name was Crawford it was the same way ! Not that Franchot was unreasonable. He was willing to clasp the Harlows to his heart and register as much intensity as the censors would allow. He'd even go in for some pretty ardent dialogue. But he couldn't, he wouldn't, he didn't and he hasn't ever gazed deep into a single luscious orb — but Joan's.
Several people about the lot where the newlyweds work are more or less sold on the idea that Joan and Tone must have promised each other something about this particular gesture of love-making, because Joan isn't one to do any too much soul-gazing, herself, unless Franchot is on the receiving end of the gaze !
The business-like Mr. Fred Astaire, who handles his career with the same emotional consideration a stock broker gives American Tel. and Tel. or Continental Can, would scoff at the idea that any personal romantic hijinks is the reason back of his refusal to indulge in screen osculation, no matter (Continued on page 87)