Silver Screen (Nov 1930-Oct 1931)

PORTRAIT of a RISING STAR Sure, it's Nancy Carroll, the Qrandest Irish Qirl Who Ever Came from a French and Dutch Family By POPPIES in a jade bowl — dancing -q ^ tj eyes and an awe Jxadie ilarris some dignity — a medley of Gershwin —syncopated — that's Nancy Carroll, star of "Laughter." Her hair is red. Pure and unadulterated. She looks more Irish than anyone to be found in the length and breadth of the Emerald Isle. Yet her real name is LaHifF, of French and Dutch extraction. Tenth Avenue quickened her. 'Tis said she could cross it quicker than any kid her age. She could. And still does. She is like a dynamo. So is her baby, aged five. If you want her to weep, talk about Patricia. If you want her inspired, talk about her husband, Jack Kirkland. He is a writer and a clever one. No one knows it better than Nancy. Acting comes as easy to her as breathing. Give her two pages of lines two minutes before a scene and she knows them verbatim. She knows, too, just how she wants to play the scene and just what she wants to wear playing it. If a director gets on the wrong side of her, she will flare up and tell him to Go Places and Do Things. If that leads to a higher official being cross with her, she will tell him to go Further Places and do More Things. If the entire organization rise on their legs to try and crush the Carroll spirit to bring her in line — and they haveshe has been known to stand outside the studio and invite it to go even Further Places and do even More Things. One wardrobe mistress adores her. The rest maintain a discreet silence. They make her frocks one way and she calmly tears them and has them remade the way she wants. The wastebaskets in every wardrobe room are full of garments torn to shreds by Nancy Carroll — not torn violently, but quietly, patiently as she explains what she wants. Invariably, she gets it — because, invariably, she is right. And when she is right, she is righter than anything you can find! She is a book for all moods, but whatever the mood, you can be sure it has steam. In her depressions, she hides like a cat who has hurt itself. In her gaiety, she sparkles like Burgundy and is more scintillating than a Lonsdale epigram. Her husband, who has lived with her for six years, confesses that he doesn't know her any better now than the day he married her. He adds that he has never been bored for a single moment. She has always been indefatigable in her ambition to succeed. When she was forced to leave school at an early age to earn her own living, not once did she flounder in a sea of indecision. Instead, she adopted as her motto that little nursery jingle, "Good, better, best — never let it rest — until the good is better and the better best." Which explains why she has excelled in everything she has ever undertaken — stenographer, chorus girl, reporter, actress, wife and mother. Were she to abandon her career tomorrow she could start fertilizing the Sahara Desert and succeed at it! She agrees with Aurelius that "all is ephemeral — fame and the famous as well." So she doesn't spend her weekly salary check on pink-stuccoed bungalows, greentiled swimming pools, silver-plated limousines and all the other accoutrements of a successful star. She knows that at the present moment, she is riding the crest of the wave. She knows, too, the instability of a screen career. Her name gleams high in electrics now. In five years, the fuse may blow out. And Nancy believes in preparedness. She is gathering her shekels while she may. Some day, in a not too distant future, she wants to satisfy her tremendous yen for traveling. Then, Patsy must have the education and some of the luxuries that Nancy was deprived of in her childhood. And her parents. Daddy and Mother LaHifF, must always be taken care of. So Nancy, wise with the wisdom of youth, saves her money. Until last Spring, when she was transferred to the Paramount Studios in New York, she lived in an unpretentious little house, chosen for its accessibility to the studio. She and husband Jack shared one car — a second-hand Cadillac — and employed one maid. Now that she is to remain in the East for a year, she has leased a furnished apartment overlooking Central Park, chosen for its accessibility to the studio for Nancy and Jack and to the carousels for Patsy. The second-hand Cadillac has since been replaced by a brand new one of shining blue — to match Nancy's eyes — a Christmas gift from her doting husband. And the maid of all work has an assistant [Coiitiiined on page 56] 27