Screenland (Feb-Oct 1949)

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Meanest Man In Movies Continued from page 42 his screen personality. He delivers it to the lady who is his wife in the picture, and he utters it urgently, intensely, and sincerely. It is: "I want my son!" That is McNally speaking, ladies and gentlemen. For McNally, away from the grimness of his work, is the world's proudest father. He's not only got a son but he's got him double, and a brace of daughters as well. It's difficult to reconcile Locky with Stephen McNally-at-home. It's equally difficult to see him, as you will, as Nazi Martin Bohrmann, fugitive and hellion, in the forthcoming "Rogues' Regiment." For McNally, in the flesh, is about as far from a villain as you can get. He's a New Yorker and a pretty unusual one. In the first place, he maintains that in California one can live with much more privacy than in the highlyvaunted impersonality of The Big Town. (When he delivered himself of this, I should add, both your reporter and a publicity man from Warners fell swooning into our soup. It was practically treason!) He is also a lawyer, a graduate of Fordham, who practiced for two years. Unfortunately, he happened to pick the two worst years of the depression when clients were few and far between, so, despite the long scholastic grind which got him his degree, he jumped at the first chance he saw in any other field. This, as you may be gathering, was in the theatre. He played a season of stock, landed in a New York flop, trod a few pavements, went out to Ann Arbor for a festival there, made like a juvenile in seven plays, and eventually was spotted by a big-time Broadway agent. Silly as it sounds, his first lead in a New York production was in a little thing called "Johnny Belinda." And even sillier was the fact that he was a huge success not as Locky, the bum, but as The Doctor, the hero played by Lew Ayres in the picture. When they made the film, this necessitated Mr. McNally 's doing a bit of mental gear-shifting, of course. He had to get used to being snarled at by the rest of the cast, instead of being patted on the head like a good boy. But as you will see, he managed the whole affair very nicely, and is being, to his very great glee, hissed from coast to coast. He was brought to California after his second big stage hit, "The Wooky," and settled down to what he hoped was an active future at MGM. But, as is so often the case, his labor on that lot consisted mainly in being one-of-the-seventeen-guys in "30 Seconds Over Tokyo," one-of-the-ninety-six-guys in "For Me And My Gal," and such like. He did play the lawyer in "Bewitched" and Brian Donlevy's son in "An American Romance," however, and your reporter is proud to say that she noticed and applauded him at that point. He was struggling under the moniker of "Horace" at the time. His father, a school principal in New York who tended towards the classics, had so dubbed him at birth and no one seemed to be unhappy about the tag until McNally met the brothers Warner. Then it dawned on all concerned that "Horace" was not exactly sexy, that bobby-soxers might be a bit chilly to it on a marquee, and that something ought to be done. McNally and his wife of eight years had, for some unknown reason, called each other "Steve" for a decade. (It probably made things so much simpler.) So, when a new title was in the offing, McNally put his oar in. And such was his hypnotic power that he actually was allowed to assume the name of his choice. This made the situation a mite difficult at home, however. And thus we come to McNally, The Man. McNally, The Man, would not feel normal, my friends, were there not at least two kids climbing over him, another yelping from the next room, and still another begging him to put up an electric train. For as we mentioned, he has four of them, all shapes and sizes. And all, you gather from talking to him, are pretty wonderful. They range from Horace, Jr., aged 7, through Rita, aged 5, and Stephen, aged 2, to Patricia, aged 10 months. The McNallys inhabit a three-bedroom house in Beverly Hills, of which one bedroom is the sole property of whatever maid is in occupancy. This means, of course, that the six McNallys hang themselves from the chandeliers for the most part, and that life is slightly complicated. It was further complicated when McNally pere changed his name. For, you see, he already had a "Junior" in the family. And switching from "Horace" to "Stephen" meant that (see above) he would cause one son to lose top billing and give it to another. For awhile, therefore, he considered changing the labels of both himself and his eldest off-spring. But that got too involved. "Stephen" became official, and the boy who took the rap is now in a fine bargaining position for anything short of a Duesenberg convertible. The house in Beverly is too small for all the tribe, as you can doubtless see. It is so tight, in fact, that scenes directly from a Marx Brothers' comedy are constantly taking place. There was the morning, for instance, when Father McNally awoke to the realization that (1) some guys from a department store were about to deliver a new 11 -foot refrigerator and a new 8burner stove; and (2) there was no electric outlet behind the old stove to accommodate the new. Thus, he phoned an electrician and begged him to appear post haste. He then assisted his wife in getting the four McNallys up, dressed, and at least started on breakfast. For simplicity's sake, breakfast was served on the kitchen table. That made six people in a space 10 by 12. In the middle of the orange juice, the doorbell 64 SCREENLAND