Showman (1937)

SHOWMAN ing out of the talking picture rights for the version recently released. It was sort of sneaked over on me to begin with. There was a booking-agent in my office named Harry Parker, and his wife, Lottie Blair Parker, was always writing plays. Several times, at Harry's request, I'd read a script of hers and had to return it with polite regrets. Parker developed the idea that I was prejudiced against his wife's work. He waited a long while and then turned up again one day with a new script which he wished I'd look over and tell him what I thought of it. There was no author's name— I asked who wrote it. "Oh, never mind now," he said, "tell you later." At the end of the first act of this script, which was entitled "Annie Laurie," I was definitely interested. At the end of the fourth I began to figure it was something well worth while. At that particular moment the theatrical world was looking high and low for a play that could follow up the smashing success of "The Old Homestead" in what was known as the "by-gosh" drama. This was that play. There would be a lot of work to be done before its theatrical virtues were adequately brought out, but the fundamental stuff was there— straight, uncompromising heart-throbs with hayseed in its hair. I sent for Parker to find out who wrote the thing. "My wife wrote it," he said, stuttering with joy. "You don't mean you like it?" 186