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for December 1933
17
Just for a welcome change, we give you close-ups of your cinema pets caught without their glamor
or less the precise kind of driver, obeys traffic signals, refuses to run over people, and has a great respect for cops, so there we were swinging down Sunset in a twenty-five mile zone at a mad twenty. For the last few minutes I had noticed that a man back of us was doing his best to pass and finally in sheer exasperation he practically drove up on Helen's tail-light and let out a blast on his horn that nearly scared me out of ten years' growth. But did Helen budge? She did not — she merely stuck her head out of the window, glared at the man, and deliberately thumbled her nose at him. It got me. I laughed for
Marlene Dietrich believes in bigger and better motors. So does Mae West. The battle for more streamlines and cylinders brings out the worst in both girls.
hours. Thank heavens, Helen Hayes may be the greatest actress on the American stage today, but when it comes to insulting insulting drivers, she did just as I would do.
Now driving brings out the worst in Madge Evans, too. Madge has been driving ever since her legs were long enough to reach the brake, and she is a perfect driver, but a very fast driver, and she has no patience with people who drive recklessly. If Madge is driving at sixty and a guy cuts in on her going at seventy Madge will start muttering like a fishwife. Yes, she's the muttery type, and I bet you are, too. So cool and poised and lovely on the screen, and in her living room, and at the Trocadero,
Cold and beautiful Colbert becomes a warm and human Claudette when she goes to a weepy movie.
Madge Evans, above, ceases to be a Glamor Girl when driving in traffic, but who can blame her? Gary Cooper, at the top of the page, loses that romantic look when he is caught snoozing.
Madge is indeed one of the most charming of the Glamor Girls, but you just ought to ride with her in the five o'clock Wilshire Boulevard traffic some day. The things she has to say about her fellow drivers — my, my, I could never think up such accurate descriptions myself, and I am very good at that. But the high spot in Madge's driving career was the day she was scurrying along one of Hollywood's narrow streets and a big car cut into her from the left, just missing her by the breadth of an eyelash. Madge (Continued on page 91)