Screenland (May-Oct 1940)

Wendy Barrie takes her place in the sun in a gingham pinafore swim suit. The skirt's lining and shorts are of white jersey. Out in Mickey's car again — and we were homeward bound. I told Mickey I'd read about him visiting President and Mrs. Roosevelt. "Yeah," he replied. "That was wonderful. Imagine me being invited to the White House ! There was only one thing, though — I sure did wish that my mother had been with me. She would have been thrilled about it all. You know, I got the swellest Mom," he added. "She's always stuck with me through thick or thin. We're great pals." The off-the-record story of Mickey Rooney's phenomenal rise to screen stardom is actually that of a courageous mother and the determination of Mickey to make her proud of him. Mickey was practically born on the stage. His parents, Nell Carter and Joe Yule, dancer and comedian respectively, were playing in vaudeville in New York. And when Mickey was 11 days old he was put into an especially made miniature tuxedo and carried on to the stage by his proud father. "From diaper to tuxedo in 11 days," Mickey puts it. When he was five, his mother brought him out to California for the express purpose of getting him in the movies. She secured a job as bungalow court manager and haunted the studios with Mickey, who was then Joe Yule, Jr. One day she saw an ad in the newspaper about a nation-wide contest for a boy to play in "Mickey McGuire" comedies. The part called for a brunette boy, but little Joe Yule, Jr., was a towhead. Mrs. Yule dyed his hair black and Mickey was taken to the studio to be tested. After the test, the director told her he would like to talk to Mickey alone — and she waited in the outer office while Mickey went in and negotiated a contract for himself. Paramount in Mickey's character is self -^:„^ ;„tprv;eW) everv i negotiated by himself. His mother has waited in the outer office and prayed a little, but she has never gone in to harangue with producers. Mickey, with his dyed hair and a chocolate cigar in his mouth and a world of confidence, stepped before the cameras for his first picture. He ate the chocolate cigar and they gave him a box full of them as a bonus. For the next six years he made 78 pictures and on suggestion of the studio changed his name to Mickey McGuire. When the services ended a court action forced him to relinquish the name he had adopted. Mickey and his mother felt that to change his name would greatly hinder his career. So the judge told him to keep one of the names. He chose Mickey and added Rooney. So Mickey found himself without a job. "But never mind, Mom," he'd say to his mother. "See that big limousine passing by? Well, gee, Mom — some day I'll get you a car like that." That was Mickey's ambition, to buy his mother a big car — "but Mom's modestlike," Mickey says. "She doesn't have any use for a big car. When I finally got to where I could really buy her one she talked me into buying her a little coupe to drive about. Mom's like that," he says proudly. Mickey's great admiration for Clark Gable began when, after a lull for Mickey of many months, Clark suggested that the kid be given a role of Gable as a boy in "Manhattan Melodrama." "Gable was so sure I could do it that he went to bat for me with the director and got me the part," Mickey said. "And that got me started in pictures again. Gable's a swell friend for a fellow to have." Mickey's ability was recognized and his discouraging days were over, for his excellent work brought him an M-G-M contract. Then followed such films as "Midsummer Night's Dream," "Ah Wilderness," "The Devil Is a Sissie," "Captains Courageous," and his brilliant performance in "Boys Town." So outstanding was Mickey's work on the screen that the producers began looking for special stories to give his talents wider range. Someone suggested that puppy love might have entertainment value if Mickey Rooney were the victim. A story was found and Mickey was called in. I recall the producer of the Hardy series relating the conference with Mickey something like this : "Mickey, we want you to fall in love. Do you mind?" Mickey : "Gee, you don't mean really, do you?" "No, not really. Only in the story. But we want you to make it look real." Mickey: "Gosh!" "Now here's a very important scene, Mickey. For example, where you come to this house, gaze into the dark eyes of Polly Benedict, trip over a door-mat, and fall like a ton of bricks." Mickey: "You mean fall off the porch?" "No, no, fall in love with Polly Benedict." Mickey: "Who's Polly Benedict?" "Never mind, we'll take care of that." Mickey: "It doesn't matter. I was just curious." So Mickey tripped over the door-mat and fell head over heels. That was the beginning of what later delighted America under the name of the "Andy Hardy" series. His perfect portrayal of the average silly, lovable American boy brought gales of laughter and tons of joy to people throughout the country. In the rattle-trap, cutdown, souped-up car of Andy Hardy, Mickey rose to stardom. Then came his big chance. An opportunity to play Thomas Edison as a boy in the film "Young Tom Edison." The part was different and difficult. But Mickey Rooney rose to the challenge and turned in a fine performance. After completing "Andy Hardy Meets Debutante," he and Judy Garland are now at work on "Strike Up the Band," a new musical successor to "Babes in Arms." Since Mickey's new title of "King of the Movies" you don't see him about at the Hollywood night spots nor out with -the girls so much. His occasional dates are usually with Judy Garland and Rita Quigley, the latter a little actress also. He never misses a preview — although he always attends them with a couple of fellows, topping off the evening with a chicken and tomato sandwich in a drive-in before going home. Mickey delights in western movies and likes to visit the small theaters and sit on the front row and watch the rootin'tootin' cowboys. He'll come out saying "Gosh, but they can ride !" A large rambling farm-house in San Fernando Valley is the Rooney home — and there he lives with his mother. His salary is" put in a trust fund. Mickey budgets himself on an allowance of $50 a week. Somehow he manages to save enough out of it to take one special vacation trip a year — and pay all of his own expenses. Undoubtedly, he has one of the keenest minds in Hollywood, and a quick sense of humor. He's never at a loss for words and always rises to the occasion. When asked how long he expects to play in the Hardy pictures he'll reply, "After I play Judge Hardy a few years." At the world premiere of "Young Tom Edison" he was invited to meet Henry Ford. So intrigued was Ford with Mickey that the interview lasted for several hours. "Don't ever let them change you out there in Hollywood," were Ford's parting words to Mickey. "They won't until they change Henry Ford," replied Mickey. During Mickey's jaunts about the country on personal appearances he writes daily to his mother, when she is not with him. The first thing he asks for each morningis for the special delivery letter she sends him. Mickey's still a youngster at heart. For cycling, the Glamor Girls have taken to the "little boy" style of shorts. Judith Barrett's are of beige gabardine. 77