Screenland (Nov 1939–Apr 1940)

Kid Star CAROLE LOMBARD couldn't imagine why people kept staring at her in such a surprised and amused way as she whizzed along Ventura Boulevard in her open car. Maybe it was because she was in furs up to her ears, or maybe it was her bright red wool Christmas mittens that caught their eye. But it was cold driving an open car, even in California, and Carole was dressed for comfort. She knew that for some reason she was getting much more than her usual share of attention. It got embarrassing and finally annoying when people began shouting things at her. When they began pointing and doubling over with laughter, Carole knew something was wrong — but what? She found out when she got to the studio. She found a hen nestled down in the folds of the canvas top of her car, clutching on for dear life and very ruffled by the wind. That ranch hen picked the wrong roost. ANN SOTHERN has always gone for > things Mexican in a big way. None of her friends could ever understand her passion for the border towns and resorts. Even when the big hotels faded in popularity with the movie crowd, Ann always spent her free moments at the same sleepy little village on the Mexican coast. She learned to speak Spanish expressly for the purpose of making real friends at her favorite vacation spot. She spent a lot of time and sincere effort trying to help her new, less fortunate acquaintances. Soon, everyone in the quaint old place got to know Ann Sothern, motion picture actress, and just last week the entire town reciprocated in a warm and touching gesture. They have deeded two choice ocean front acres of land to her, and now Ann will build a permanent vacation home there. Remember Jane Bryan was supposed to be expecting a baby at the end of "Brother Rat?" Well, in "Brother Rat and a Baby" he arrives — his name is Peter B. Good, and Hollywood says fourteen-months-old Peter certainly is. THE most miserable fellow in Hollywood is a handsome elevator operator in a boulevard building whose displayed license announces his name is Robert Taylor. The "you ought to be in pictures" rib has given him a furious grudge against the real Bob Taylor of the movies. rXACTLY seven and a half years ago to E the month, Jimmy Stewart met Margaret Sullavan for the first time. Their weeks of working together, now, in "The Shop Around the Corner" have been just one long siege of reminiscing. Their friendship started under very unusual circumstances, because Stewart was the most girl-shy undergraduate of the Triangle Club, a Princeton drama society. All the members laid bets that the handsomest killer-diller of the society would be the one whom Maggie would accept as her escort to the club's reception. Maggie, meanwhile, new to the Falmouth stock company, never expected to get a single bid, and so jumped at Stewart's first offer. Jimmy remembers that all he got to say was, "May I have the honor?" He never got any further. Maggie snapped him up slap-dash with "Why, yes — certainly." It was all set before either knew what the other was talking about. T WAS a great thrill for the tiny coast town of Pismo Beach to have a big movie location move right into their midst. The entire town was agog because Joan Crawford was reported really to have arrived in her limousine, in true movie star fashion. Every youngster in the village was out for an autograph. The Crawford name was magic until the youngsters found out that the guy driving an old station wagon looked like Clark Gable. When they found out that it was Gable, and he fixed up an immediate game of softball to entertain the mob, because the weather got too foggy to work, glamor queen Crawford was lost in the shuffle. No one minded being put out on first base, because King Gable was playing that position. TRED MacMURRAY was walking down r a street on the Paramount lot the other day, and in the distance he saw an older woman approaching him who looked vaguely familiar and who kept staring at him as though she meant to stop and talk. Fred didn't want to hurt her feelings by not being able to recognize her so he tried to avoid talking to her. But she bore down on him like a ship in full sail. She started an animated conversation, asked him the most intimate questions, and the embarrassed Fred could do nothing but stare and cudgel his mind to recall her. "You don't remember me, do you?" she said. Fred sheepishly admitted he didn't. "I played in a picture with you a few years ago." Fred brightened, and bluffingly replied, "Oh yes, of course, you played my mother in. . . ." Then Bonita Granville, who was in old woman disguise for scenes in "At Good Old Siwash," broke into her natural voice and told the surprised Fred who she really was. THE seasonal trek to Palms Springs is on again and the town's talk is mostly about the lure of the desert. In comparing tans Ginger Rogers and Dolores Del Rio come out way on top. Week-ends, now, mean a dark-bespectacled bicycle binge. Everyone rides bicycles at the desert resorts, even before breakfast. A smart innovation at the Desert Inn is a novel bicycle breakfast. You bicycle into the desert at dawn for your food cooked in the open. The amusement spots are gayer than ever this year, with more atmosphere. The Racquet Club is completely done over, the red-canopied dining room has a very sophisticated floor show, and the high spot of an evening there is Ralph Bellamy's impromptu master-ofceremonies stint at the microphone. He's a Bellamy you never saw in the movies. Big Star? When a girl who has played in only two pictures, both of them comedies — "What A Life" and "Seventeen" — grabs the dramatic plum of the year, that's news and so is she. Watch for Betty Field as sexy siren mae in "Of Mice and Men." 68