Silver Screen (Nov 1930-Oct 1931)

Q^r. ^inderella He's Richard Cromwell of Overnight Fame Who Has Knocked the Qirls for a Loop By Caroline Dune a n THE Horatio Alger fable from "Rags to Riches" is the interviewer's stock story. One is constantly writing of the Janet Gaynors, Charlie Farrells, Lois Morans, Barbara Stanwycks, who have skyrocketed from obscurity to overnight Fame. And yet, nowhere in screen annals is there recorded a tale as amazing as that of Richard Cromwell, young star of "Tol'able David." When Harry Cohn, president of Columbia Pictures, decided to remake "Tol'able David" as a talking picture, he knew that the job of finding someone to equal Richard Barthelmess' classic portrayal would be difficult. But just how difficult, he wasn't to realize until he had taken tests of every juvenile from Hollywood to New York — and found none of them satisfactory. Finally, in desperation, he decided to give the role to an unknown. Roy Radabaugh, a twenty year old artist, living in Hollywood and starving for a livelihood in the fictional manner of all artists, heard about this unusual opportunity and applied for the part. "Tol'able David" was his favorite story — he had always wanted to be an actor — and the other fifty reasons don't matter. Everyone was as astounded as Roy when the coveted role was entrusted to him. Other obscure players who were suddenly starred have all of them served a previous apprenticeship of some sort — extra, property boy, script clerk — something. Roy Radabaugh had NEVER set foot inside a studio in any capacity. He was as new as tomorrow's newspaper, as fresh as a last coat of paint on a suburban house. No sooner had he been assigned the part than his name was changed to Richard Cromwell. No sooner had he finished the picture than his new name went up in electric lights and he was presented with a five-year contract with regular raises of salary and all that. Who said, "and so overnight Fame" is a sub-title? "Tol'able David" recently had its world premiere at the Mayfair Theatre in New York. And to celebrate the event, "Dick" was sent East on a series of personal appearances. Not only was it his first glimpse of the Big City, but also the first time he had ever been outside the state of California. When I dined with him in his suite at the Hotel St. Moritz, my food remained untouched as I "ate up" the amazing facts that had uprooted him from the crowd. Richard (Tol'able David) Cromwell has not only IT but That — that Something which appeals to the maternal instinct. And lads with That go far He was born in Los Angeles, Jan. 8, 1910, between five and six o'clock of a Saturday morning. And has never inconvenienced his mother since. When he was eight years old, his father died, leaving a young widow to carry on the burden of supporting five growing youngsters. She moved her brood to Long Beach, a seaside resort forty miles from Hollywood, and secured a job as a typist. Dick contributed his share to the family coffers by sundry odd jobs, which included concocting "chocolate luxuros" and "cherry delights" behind a soda fountain and peddling his artistic, albeit uncommercial, handiwork. When he was fifteen years old, he decided to move to Hollywood and attend the Chouinard Art School, where he could study this thing called Art in a Big Way. Because he couldn't afford to pay the tuition and there were no scholarships left, he induced Madam Chouinard to let him work his way through. Since Dick has the sort of face that every mother could love, how could she refuse him? P.S. She didn't. Then began Dick's first big adventure — living on his own. He hunted around until he found a room inexpensive enough and sufficiently large to be converted into two — ■ one for sleeping quarters and the other for his workshop. He thought if he painted enough, he might eventually paint his way into a movie studio. For greater than Dick's ambition to become a great artist was his desire to be a greater actor. But Dick's first and only attempt at histrionics had occurred during his high school days when he played the title role in a Junior class production of "Ivanhoe." Dick made his own costume and it consisted of a union suit with chicken rings tacked on and bedroom slippers encased in silver paper. Dick's performance was masterly until the end of the second [Coiit 'niucd on p,iz>' 58] for April 1931 37