Screenland (Sept 1922–Feb 1923)

34 stone, like the strata of a cave. Behind these the lights are hidden, the whole system of illumination beingbased on reflection. The immense dislocation of the planes and angles of the vault-like ceiling is focused on the central point, the huge silver star or crystal bursting like an exploding bomb through the roof. The whole effect is weird, almost ominous. The shape of the room in its ground plan is itself irregular— the impression is that of a frozen catastrophe. Yet this feeling seems to be in accord with the mood of revelers in Germany today. From there to the Palais Heinroth, the most expensive place in Berlin and the high spot of night life. It is conspicuous in its brilliance, because Berlin as a city is so badly lighted. At night tjie streets are dark and gloomy, and it is then that one gets the effect of war and defeat. At the Heinroth everybody was in evening dress. We weren't. My appearance did not cause any excitement. We check our hats and coats and ask for a table. The manager shrugs his shoulders. There is one in the back, a most obscure part of the room. This brings home forcibly the absence of my reputation. It nettled me. Well, I wanted rest. Th is was it. We are about to accept humbly the isolated table when I hear a shriek and I am slapped on the back and there's a yell • "Charlie!" It is Al Kaufman of the Lasky corporation and manager of the Famous Players studio in Berlin. "Come over to our table. Pola Negri wants to meet you." HaiywooA SCREENLAHD C*ufi is Polish and really true to the type Beautiful jet-black hair, white even teeth and wonderful coloring I think it such a pity that such coloring does not register on the screen. bhe is the center of attraction here. I am introduced. What a voice she has ! Her mouth speaks so prettily the German language Her voice has a soft, mellow quality with charming inflections. Offered a drink, she clinks my glass and offers her only English words, "Jazz boy, Charlie." Language again stumps me. What a pity! But with the aid of a third party we get along famously. Kaufman whispers: "Charlie, you've made a hit She just old me that you are charming " \ou tell her that she's the loveliest thing I've seen in Europe." I nese compliments keep up for some time and then I ask Kaufman how to say "I think you are divine" in German. He tells me something I q Jazz-Boy Charlie." That is all the English Pola Negri could speak. But they understood each other. A, iGAIN I come into my own. The Germans look on wondering. I have created attention at last I discover that there is an American jazz band in the place. In the middle of a number they stop playing and shout : s "Hooray for Charlie Chaplin !" The proprietor shrugs his shoulders and the band resumes playing. I learn that the musicians are former American doughboys. I feel rather pleased that I have impressed the Germans in the place. In our party were Rita Kaufman, wife of Al ; Pola Negri, Carl Robinson and myself. Pola Negri is really beautiful. She in German and I repeat it to her She s startled and looks up and slaps my hand. "Naughty boy," she says. The table roars. I sense that I have been double crossed by Kaufman. What have I said ? But Pola joins in the joke, and there is no casualty. I learn later that I have said, "I think you are terrible " I decided to go home and learn German. As I am going out the proprietor approaches and very formally addresses me. "I beg pardon, sir. I understand that you are a great man in the United States. Accept my apologies for not knowing, and the gates here are always opert to you " I accepted them formally, though through it all I feel very comic opera. I didn't like the proprietor WANT to go through the German slums. I mention such a trip to a German newspaper man. I am told that I am just like every Londoner and New Yorker who comes to Berlin for the first time; that I want the Whitechapel district, the Bowery of Berlin, and that there is no such district. Once upon a time there were hovels in Berlin, but they have long since disappeared. This to me is a real step toward civilization. My newspaper friend tells me that he will give me the next best thing to the slums, and we go to Krogel. What a picture could be made here! I am fascinated as I wander through houses mounted on shaky stilts and courts ancient but cleanly. Then we drove to Acker street and gazed into courts and basements. In a cafe we talked to men and women and drank beer. I almost launched a new war when, wishing to pay a charge of 180 marks, I pulled from my pocket a roll of fifty 1,000-mark notes. My friend paid the check quickly with small change and hustled me out, telling me of the hard faces and criminal types who were watching. He's probably right, but I love those poor, humble people. We drove to the arbor colonies in the northern part of the city, stopping at some of the arbors to talk to the people. I feel that I would like to eat dinner here among these people, but I haven't sufficient courage to persuade my companion, who wouldn't think of it Passing through the northern part of Berlin, I found many beauties, which my friend let me know, were not considered beautiful at all. He even suggested that he show me something in contrast with all I had seen. I told him no, that it would spoil my whole viewpoint. It has been rather a restful experience, going through the whole town without being recognized, but even as I am thinking it a fashionable lady and her young daughter pass and by their smiles I know that I am again discovered. And then we meet Fritz Kreisler and hiswife, who are just leaving for Munich. We have quite a chat and then make tentative engagements to be carried out in Los Angeles on his next trip there. I notice that the Germans seem to be scrupulously honest, or maybe {Continued on page 48.)