Screenland (Jul–Dec 1946)

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When he returned in September he had passed his 21st birthday and was solemnly presented with a latchkey. He wore short pants until he was 16 (also an old English custom) . He was 17 when he had his first date. "It would have been ridiculous for a chap my size to have a date in short pants," he explained. "Were you in love?" I asked curiously. "Oh, sure," he replied carelessly. "I was making a big thing of it. It was in Palm Beach. Florida. The girl was from Detroit and her family had a winter home there. We still write each other occasionally." He reads anything and everything he can lay hands on. If someone whose opinion he values raves over a book, no matter how old it is, Peter digs it out and reads it. For instance, he has just finished "Finley Wren"— a novel that must have appeared eight or ten years ago. At the moment he is deep in Oscar Levant's "A Smattering of Ignorance." Once when Levant and his friend, George Gershwin, were sharing a compartment from Hollywood to New York, Gershwin threw a dig into Oscar. It rankled. Oscar, biding his time, encountered Gershwin at a party one night just after the opening of a new (and very successful) play of his. After listening to Gershwin's ravings for a while, Oscar broke in. "Tell me, George," he implored, "if you had it to do again, would you fall in love with yourself all over?" "I can't wait to pull that on Wynn." Peter chortled, then his face clouded. "But the time and place have to be' exactly right," he worried. "You can't waste a crack like that just to be smarting off." I asked how, with all the running around he does, he finds any time to read. "I really don't do much nightclubbing," he answered. "It runs in fits and starts. I may go out socially four or five times in a week but then I probably won't go again for a couple of months." His part in "Two Sisters from Boston" was his first big part since he was a child star in England. Asked if it didn't seem strange to know he had finally "arrived," he answered, "No," and virtually quoted something the immortal Carole Lombard once told me. "Acting is just like any other business. You enter it expecting to serve an apprenticeship while you learn the fundamentals. After you've learned them you expect to progress or you would never have chosen that profession." Asked if he was excited over this lead, he again said, "No. Once you get a part and study your head off trying to figure out a characterization, you worry more about your next part." Fortunately, this worry was spared Peter. Before he finished "Sisters" 20th Century-Fox made a deal to borrow him for a lead in "Cluny Brown." Before that was finished MGM told him his next was to a comedy called "My Brother Who Talked to Horses," with Butch Jenkins, Beverly Tyler, Spring Bying.on and Charles Ruggles. It was while he was working on "Sisters" I dropped into his dressing room one afternoon. A new magazine had just hit the stands with his first interview and Peter was wildly excited. Keenan Wynn was also there. "Which magazine is that?" I asked. "I'd like to read an interview that can engross anyone so completely." "Will you?" he exclaimed in simulated eagerness and a display of naivete. "It's on page 23." "I wish I could bust into one of those magazines," Keenan commented in mock envy. "Never mind, chum," Peter consoled him, "I'll mention you in all of mine." And he has. Keenan is never very far from his thoughts. He cannot carry on a conversation of any length without mentioning him half dozen times. When I mentioned once that I had never seen Keenan on the screen he regarded me in shocked surprise. "You've sure done yourself out of some enjoyable theater," he said in a strained voice. "He's one of the very greatest actors on the screen. His woi*k in 'The Clock' should have got him an Academy award." Knowing I am from the South, Peter once tried to tell me a story about a colored couple. His Southern dialect is about on a par with my acting. But, anyhow, when he came to the point he forgot it. He threw up his hands in despair. "That's what always happens when I try to tell a story," he wailed. His favorite sports are tennis, horseback riding, volley ball and swimming. For the latter two he goes to a public beach, the volley ball being played with a bunch of boys from U.C.L.A. he met down there. He goes to the beach almost every day he has off, winter or summer. He modestlv admits that tennis is one of the few things he does well. If a'-ked his outstanding characteristic I should say his grin. He has the most infectious grin I have ever seen but he doesn't wear it thin. When he grins he means it. His most outstanding trait is his loyalty. There are few people anywhere who go around touting their friends as Peter does. From the foregoing you may have Fathered I have a vast admiration for Mr. Lawford. I have, indeed. When he is working, the other stars on the lot get short shift from me. I can't tear myself away from his set. When Peter is going good there are a dozen laughs a minute. And his intellect is as keen as his wit. I mentioned the fact that he is innately a gentleman. An evidence of this is his persistence in addressing anyone a year older than himself as "sir." On the occasion of our first meeting (I think he was seventeen or eighteen at the time) that "sir" business began to get under my skin. "Confound it!" I yapped in pretended rage, "stop calling me 'sir.' It's bad enough getting old without being treated with respect on top of it." Peter jumped. "Yes, sir," he agreed meekly. B0 SCREENLAND