Screenland (Nov 1950-Oct 1951)

atever way you look at it, the life of Louis Jour who gained a cosmopolitan outlook early in his travels, is always one exciting adventure followed by another Louis and Debra Paget in a scene from 20th CenturyFox's "Bird Of Paradise." ABOUT the time you read this, you will be seeing a picture entitled "Bird Of Paradise," a love story set in romantic Hawaii. The picture has three stare — Louis Jourdan, Jeff Chandler and Debra Paget. This is the first time, in an American picture, that Louis Jourdan has played a real hero. Up to now, he has been a troublemaker for the heroine. And doing very well at it, too. Being the curious type, I wondered how this transformation came about — and what Louis, himself, thinks about it. So I went and asked him. He and his blonde wife, Quique (pronounced "Keek") live in a Colonial house in Beverly Hills. There, in a spacious living room whose walls are gay with modern French paintings, he tentatively relaxed in an easy chair. What did I want to know? The first question had him leaning forward, reaching for a cigarette from a box on the large coffee table between us. As he lighted it, he smiled disarmingly. No, he had waged no campaign to become known as a definitely romantic type. His tone of voice implied that he would be embarrassed if anyone started pinning "lover" labels on him. He didn't know, when he signed his present contract last May, about the possibility of his being in "Bird Of Paradise." The matter arose about a month later. "I didn't want to do it at first," he said. "I hadn't read the script, but I knew that it was a sarong picture, and it sounded as if it might be a South-SeaIsland-magic sort of thing, in Technicolor— so I was afraid of it. Then I was Louis with Jeff Chandler survey the horizon from the schooner before going ashore. persuaded to read the script and I changed my mind. I discovered that here, for once, was an honest story about the Polynesians. Although it is a picture with sarongs, that is not important. We don't make a fuss about them. If we wear sarongs, it is because it is the custom of the natives — and they help to tell the story of the conflict that confronts a European arriving on this island. That was what interested me in the picture: the dramatic conflict that was inescapable with a civilized man trying to adapt himself to the native ways." Weren't the romantic potentialities of his role — as a civilized young Frenchman who falls in love with a native girl (played by Debra Paget) — also inescapable? His answer was a Gallic shrug of the shoulders as if, really, he hadn't given the matter too much thought. "Of course, the setting was romantic," he conceded. "The picture was to be made entirely in Hawaii, a place where my wife and I had never been — and had heard so much about. That appealed to me. Who," he asked, "hasn't wondered what it would be like to see Hawaii?" Who, indeed? But how many of us can imagine seeing it — and getting paid at the same time? "It was my first location trip in America," he went on, "and it impressed me very much. A big location 3,000 miles away is flabbergasting when you see it for the first time. A company takes along everything that might be needed, from Kleenex to 10-ton camera cranes. There are 80 to 100 people, like a big expedition. (Please turn to page 56) With the help of Debra Paget, Lous quickly adapts himself to Polynesian ways of life. Last minute adjustments ing of a love scene in " during Bird Of the filmParadise.'