Screenland (May-Oct 1937)

■ A Real Day with Tyrone Power Continued from page 29 that he is honestly thrilled with every evidence that he is "registering." He and I went on out to the porch that overlooks a small, enclosed back lawn. Breakfast, and Tvrone eats heartily in the hope that he'll gain weight, was served by his excellent cook. "Well, it's this way," he said when 1 complimented the food. "I didn't always cat regularly when I was trying to get a break in pictures. And I enjoy eating regularly—and well!" His pride made him persist in tackling Hollywood without financial aid from lr.s mother. She was teaching dramatics in Cleveland and he came West when his father, particularly noted for a Shakespearian repertoire, was signed for a film lead. Before the picture got into production his father died— in Tyrone's arms. "I'm going to move once more," Tyrone admitted. "We've been here almost a year, which is a record. But I'm looking m : Beverly for a larger house. Here the garage is under mother's bedroom and I waken her when I come in late and go out early. Anyway, living in Beverly will be more like living, won't it?" Being with Tyrone, I was beginning to * • sense, is living as you've always meant to live. Dreams are materializing fantastically for him and shortly you, too, are gulping ■ with excitement. Other stars have to recapture big moments ; he's having all of his right now. "In one vear I was in and out of ten different apartments," he was confessing next. "After my father's death I stayed on in Hollywood. After a while I hung on. I got a stock contract at Universal which paid just enough for board and ; room. Richard Cromwell used to stop by I and give me a ride to the studio. But I quit that embryo drama school because it wasn't leading to screen roles for anyone in it. Father had left me a little money and gradually I was down to one room and not i, too much food as I tried for parts in pictures. I couldn't even get extra work!" Fortunately the stage, after a two-year assault, was kinder. "Now that mother's with me after our having been apart for five years I want her to have the best." But having the best revived the memory of Uncle Frank. "Can you drive downtown with me? I've got to see Uncle Frank !" A person so important to Tyrone was a person I knew I should meet. While Tyrone put on a suit I glanced around his own room. Two huge photographs of Sonja Henie were autographed in the tenderest of terms. They dressed up the masculine simplicity of the bedroom. Out to the garage we sped, and climbed into his Cord. It's an all-black convertible model and Tyrone, being anxious _ to tan, keeps the top down most of the time. As we hurried down Wi'lshire Boulevard he admitted, "I usually am guilty of a silly stunt. I stick the morning paper into the car and whenever I get to a stop signal I grab my journal and read while I'm waiting. Then the horns commence behind me to bring me back to earth." But by now I could no longer suppress my curiosity as to the purpose of this jaunt. "Oh, pardon me," cried Tyrone. "Uncle Frank's the banker ! I mean he isn't a real uncle. Nor a banker, for that matter. He was my father's attorney and so as soon as I got my contract I remembered what respect I'd always had for him and his Lounging in her own back yard, Bette Davis makes herself comfortable besidei the decorative pool, and is herself right decorative in a gay and cool summer outfit. opinions. I went to him and asked him if he'd handle my salary. After all, I know what poor business men most actors are; I want to save something. Consequently I'm on a budget that's not so large as I'll bet you imagine. All bills go to Uncle Frank and I just have a little each week for a few personal expenses. The only time I've been on the carpet was when I sent all those orchids to Sonja." When Sonja left town for a skating tour Tyrone impetuously wired, her a bouquet of orchids for each exhibition. "The florist," Tyrone recollected happily, "didn't present the bill to Uncle Frank until I'd been able to send quite a few bouquets ! I'm not extravagant, though," he added. "I've been accustomed to stretching actual cash and I still stretch it." Uncle Frank proved to be a genial guardian. Tyrone conferred with him about the move to Beverly. "Since my option's been taken up, I really should get out there. It'll be keen for mother not to have to sleep over my car coming and going. We can find a place, reasonable enough, that'll have a swimming pool. Carl, down at the athletic club, has recommended more swimming for me, you know. And then we can Good bowling! Tyrone Power plays the alley game often, and expertly. have a small playroom', with room for a badminton net. I have to return some of these social obligations I'm acquiring!" "My boy, I don't need all that sales chatter!" Uncle Frank beamed and Tyrone, hitherto diplomatically grave, chuckled outright. "You may look for a larger house," continued the sage of the Power funds. "But better let your mother do the looking, and better have her say it's for herself. If you go around they'll raise their prices on you." Whereupon we left the office building, Tyrone attempting to be nonchalant under the admiring stares cast his way by everyone who saw him. We'd lingered over breakfast and it was nearing 11:30 as we crossed Western Avenue, half-way back to Hollywood from Los Angeles. I learned then precisely what's a treat to a movie star. "Do you mind if we stop in at Westmore's for a few minutes?" Tyrone questioned. "I feel like a bender." I coughed impolitely. "At a hair and wig establishment?" "Sure! That's where I get my hair cut When you're on a picture a haircut has to be a delicate proposition; it must be just a snip and a snap so you're in a state of status quo for the camera. But now; I don't have to work for two weeks. So I'm going to be sheared!" At my look of horror he amplified. "You don't think actors like those long haircuts that are foisted on them in the name of Art, do you? They're like wanting to scratch yourself and not being able to. So whenever I'm certain I won't be looking into a camera for a spell I have me a hair bender !" His face was ecstatic. He didn't say that he had to get to a telephone, too. But before he embarked on a haircut he made a call. And then luckwas with me once more. There was no booth. He dialed. "May I have Miss Henie, please?" An impatient bit of foot-tapping. "Oil, Sonja!" If Sonja didn't practically swoon at his ardor she isn't normal. "Can you have lunch with me? No — ?" He stamped out his cigarette. Despair gripped him. "But I'd planned on it; I haven't seen you for so long." (Not since last night.) A pause. A sigh. Intent listening to a lengthy interpretation of the emergency that had evidently arisen the hour before. Slowly but distinctly Tyrone's face went into high. He was exultant, his voice tender. "I've two places to take you this evening. Sonja!" Like Caesar entering Rome, he turned around to me. "Shall we," he laughed, "have a haircut?" I'd hate to look in a mirror ; Tyrone didn't dare be too rash himself, but he encouraged my barber and I fear I've a convict contour. "Awfully 71