Screenland (Jul–Dec 1946)

except the violin) , the Wilde Twins. Jean Porter, a trained trouper who has. more life in her than any three other Hollywood red-heads, and — well, it wouldn't surprise us if the troupe ended up starring the ghost of Rudolph Valentino and, by ectoplasmic projection into the future, the grand-daughter of Margaret O'Brien. Showman Rooney! Do you think all this satisfies Mr. Ambition? Listen again. "Before another year is out," Mickey said, "and you can quote me — I'm going to direct. One way or another I'm going to do it." If that's all right with MGM it's all right with us, ■provided Mickey directs himself. But if Mickey's" many activities keep him for very long at a time off the screen it will mean, in our opinion, Comes The Revolution among the fans. Movie-goers have loyally demonstrated their belief that a season of film fare is ruined without Rooney. And, if he stays frequently on the screen, he'll be, in 1947, right back where he belongs — Box-Office King. The incredible guy has come home with all his powers sharpened. "It did me good," he says frankly, "to be away from Hollywood two years. It gave me those new perspectives we were talking about. I believe I'll do better work." We believe so too, and, as he talked, our mind commented wonderingly, "The Greater Mickey Rooney!" Mickey says he hopes no one will misunderstand his adamant rule that pictures not be taken in his home, nor his wife interviewed. "We met outside the Hollywood scene," he says. "We found our happiness outside it. I've thought about this all the time I was away. I'm going to keep my wife just as far away from the picture business — from all my businesses — as it's humanly possible to do. Why, we scarcely have any motion picture people at the house, except very close friends, like Clark Gable. And we never talk movie shop talk." It made sense to us. "We respect your wishes," we assured him. "In view of them, we don't want to interview Mrs. Rooney. But, Mickey, your family is what you're proudest of, in all the world, and in this article we're trying to understand you. We'd appreciate the privilege of meeting Mrs. Rooney and seeing Mickey, Jr." Mickey, Sr. took on that truly proud look. "If you want to meet my wife and son." — you'd think the baby was twenty-one years old! "certainly you can." We agreed on a date and time. Then, like thousands of husbands all over the world might do (this Whirlwin (! -onWheels is as thoroughly human as anyone you'll ever meet) he forgot to tell his wife we were coming! Mrs. Rooney being off downtown to an early lunch, we devoted our attention to Mickey Jr., who was having an early lunch, too, in a sunny, white-tiled kitchen. First we noticed his genuinely handsome hair — the Golden Towhead — and finely shaped head; then the brightest «iirnrner-.sky-blue eyes you can imagine, and as alert as his Dad's. "If Mrs. Rooney were here," we told ourselves, "~ln would inform us, without being interviewed, that this is an absolutely unique child;" yet his behavior reminded us strangely of some other year-olders On holiday in Cornwall before her arrival in Hollywood, Ann Todd and her husband, Nigel Tangye, spend a quiet evening in the Tangye family's lovely drawing room. we have known. From a small, threecompartment platter, holding mashed stewed prunes, mashed potatoes and fine-cut carrots, a nursemaid was trying to persuade him to eat. Like other children— excuse us, Mrs. Rooney — he didn't want to eat, because it was mealtime. M. Jr. waved his spoon at us and made genial sounds. True, the diversion of our entrance was welcome. He presently said, "Nanh!" — emphatic like his Pop — but we chose to believe this was aimed at the nursemaid, who was trying to interest him in the stewed prunes. To give her half a chance, we withdrew to the living room. (Report: He's just the son you'd like Mickey to have.) The Rooney home wanders cheerily around two long sides of a gracious patio-lawn with trees. The living room and dining room, both long, too, are really one very long room, angled slightly at the middle. At the inner end of the living room is a mirror wall (with a natural wood, long radio-phonograph stretching below it) that gives the effect of even more space. The color-tone of all the living room and ninety-percent of the dining room is pale olive-green, inexpressibly cool and restful. One side of the living room is a solid glass window, overlooking the green of San Fernando Valley and nearby hills. Chintzcovered chairs face this window. Through it and through two large corner windows at the dining room's far end (where sits a black walnut table, with handsome red over-stuffed chairs) all the green of Nature seems to flood in to blend with the prevailing cool green of the interior. The rooms are serene. We began to understand why a high-strung young man, whose professional life is always a-swirl, would want to keep this home— though that certain underlying shyness in Mickey might prevent him from phrasing it just that way — sacred. We understood even better when, later, we did have the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Rooney. (No interview, of course, but we can give you a confidential, off-therecord news scoop: Mrs. Rooney does think Mickey, Jr. is different from other children.) Watching Mickey's wife and hearing her soft Southern voice (not the Hollywood type of "Southern accent") we couldn't help thinking of what she told Mickey after they were married — about how sad he looked, that Sunday morning, September 24, 1944, in Birmingham. And what better reason on the wide earth, we asked ourselves, can a girl have for marrying a man than to make him happy? One realizes, almost at first glance, that Mrs. Rooney possesses the beauty and charm, and the quality of loyalty, showing in her eyes, to make any man happy. And, of course, the former Betty Jane Rase rendered The Greater Mickey Rooney doubly happy, by making good on that nickname — B. J. She Borned Junior! 76 ScREENLAND