Screenland (July–Dec 1947)

Closeup of Tyrone Power Continued from page 21 It's true! . . . CIPAK unfolds to a complete unit. Holds a full quart of solution. It repacks in a jiffy, either wet or dry. It's the most modern advancement in feminine hygiene. On sale at leading Drug or Dept. Stores* Accepted for advertising in the Journal of the American Medical Association. For Modern Feminine Hygiene *Because Cipak is so new, your favorite store may not have it in stock as yet. To order direct fill out this coupon. Miss Gale West CIPAK Box 448 San Francisco, Calif. Please send me a CIPAK Compact Syringe. I am enclosing $4.95. ( ) Check ( ) Money Order (No C.O.D.) Name Address City State My Drug or Dept. Store Address 74 form of stupidity irks him violently. If he ever loses his temper it's when inefficiency irritates him. Bang! There's an explosion' — and then it's over. He isn't the brooding type. Sometimes, for no visible reason, he'll be in a terrible mood for fifteen minutes. Then he snaps out of the blues with no hangover of selfpity, and is as considerate and exhilarating as ever. He has changed in certain respects, and yet is the same as he has always been in other ways. My playing Cortez in "Captain from Castile*" meant I worked with him for almost five months steadily, a severe test of any friendship. It's the first picture we've ever done together in all the years we've known each other. I'm impressed by his thoroughly business-like conduct on sets. Once he was a great practical joker. The war must have sobered him completely where film-making's concerned. He's very serious whenever actually working, stops all kidding. He always knew his lines perfectly, I noticed. When we'd come to dialogue or scenes that didn't feel quite right to him he'd quietly discuss his beliefs with director Henry King, with whom he has made seven pictures. Ty never behaved temperamentally, never created a scene that wasn't in the script. He's one of the very few top stars who modestly think of themselves as employees. He says he is being hired to do a specific job, act a certain role in a film. He realizes perfectly that he's not running the studio. But he feels that in America it is the privilege of any employee to speak up politely. Letting well enough alone when you honestly don't consider it good enough is, to him, the also-ran's approach to life. He says all craftsmen must maintain professional standards as high as possible to go on being hired, and he believes any sane employer is happy when sensible suggestions add to the eventual profit. That savvy of Ty's, that determination of his to make every picture of his as good as possible in every detail, wins the respect of everyone of his coworkers—and it explains a lot of the teamwork that goes into the making of any Power film. That pays off at the box-office, too. Ty's interest in every part of our industry dumbfounds me. During the four months we were down in Mexico on location he had the Hollywood trade papers flown down so he could read them daily. I never bothered; I was busy enough working in the picture. He isn't in the movies to get rich and then get out of them, but because he's never been able to conceive of more fascinating work. He wants to continue succeeding on the screen so he is constantly reestimating himself. When he was in high school, ushering nights and Sundays in a Cincinnati movie theater, he kept a careful check on the popularity of every film. He used a looseleaf notebook from a dime store, and rated audience reactions to every star. He studied directors' twists on stories, compared values. Now that he's on the inside he's just as hep to people's opinions. He cares what you think, invariably inquires and always listens. His first film on his return from war was his studio's most expensive production of last year and, gratifyingly, "The Razor's Edge" proved the biggest grossing picture when 20th toted up its profits for this year. Ty abhors ruts, so jumped at the opportunity to surprise audiences with a switch from a spiritually-uncertain hero to his current ruthless rascal characterization in "Nightmare Alley." As the ambitious carnival barker who connives to gyp everybody, including the women who enter his life, he demonstrates superbly what an excellent actor he has become. He's a heel who gets double-crossed. Can you imagine a fearful, vain star taking such a role? Perhaps this untold tale explains his courage. When Ty was first signed by 20th the first thing he did when he could get away from all the bewildering routines for a newcomer was to revel in a little personal prelude to stardom. He made a sentimental journey by himself to all the still-standing sets where the stars he'd admired from afar in Ohio had made screen history. Secretly he was consumed with excitement at the possibility of following in their footsteps. He still is! His innate good taste, of course, prevents him from mentioning his private pledge to become outstanding; but from the many outstanding films he has made you know how conscientiously he's lived up to his resolution. I just don't want you to assume Ty's triumphs are wholly luck. And, in that wonderful way, he's still sentimental. In his library you can come across twenty-eight hand-bound leather volumes. They contain the shooting scripts of his starring vehicles to date. These are his most treasured souvenirs, because so much of himself went into each effort to entertain. There's no complex living-the-character trait in Ty. At the end of a scene he automatically reverts to reality from his role. He doesn't have to be pampered with closed sets, or any of the nonsense that can be whipped up to keep a great star in the mood to do his best. No one here has a deeper appreciation of genuine art, in all its forms and shadings, than Ty has. But he has an ever-accompanying sense of proportion, and sense of humor. There's nothing hammy about him! To give you an accurate notion of how hard he works, he had only two weeks off between the two pictures he's just made. The rest of the nine months their filming consumed he literally reported every day. His superb concentration, and skill at snapping out of it, isn't a common thing in Hollywood. Ty's pride is what spurs him on. As the swashbuckling Pedro de Vargas in "Captain from Castile" Ty returns to the type of screen adventuring in which he made his mark originally. It's as startling a contrast to his present punchy performance as a carnival barker as ScREENLAND