The seven deadly sins of Hollywood (1957)

THE MYTH AND THE PLACE small freighter nobody is trying to pull off a social coup by making the acquaintance of a film celebrity. People behave naturally. Grant is a great believer in people behaving naturally. He presents a picture of an eminently civilised, relaxed and intelligent person. After thirty years in films he is still a top box-office draw. "I get £60,000 a picture," he says, but adds the inevitable postscript, "I am not a rich man. It all goes on taxes." In many ways he fails to conform to the Hollywood pattern. He doesn't give parties and doesn't go to them. Says he would rather read a book. "We don't have many friends — we just stay at home and read books. You always meet the same people at parties, and there is nothing new to talk about." He tells me he has acquired a new interest now: hypnotism. Under hypnosis he was persuaded to give up smoking and drinking, although he had no particular urge to give up either. "Can't stand the taste of alcohol or cigarettes now. Pity. Used to like it." Seven p.m. Bel Air Hotel — remote, elegant hotel for privacy-hunters. I find Gregory Peck and new wife Veronique in a bungalow suite off the patio. Peck, the reluctant heart-throb, gives a smile of manly embarrassment. He seems to want to run away. His face is twisted into a look of worried concentration. I have asked: "What is it about you that gets all the women?" Former reporter Mrs. Peck gives him no help. She presumably knows — she came to interview him and stayed to marry him — but is saying nothing. "It's nothing I do consciously in the way of mannerisms or tricks that might be effective as far as women are concerned," he says unhappily. He drinks his beer and Mrs. Peck smiles enigmatically, says nothing, looks chic, smooth, Parisienne in mink. "Whatever it is, that 15