Silver Screen (Nov 1933–Apr 1934)

66 Silver Screen for November 1933 Shampoo LOVELIGHTS into your hair! Virginia Valli is fortunate, you think — yet you can make your hair as lovely as hers in a single shampooing, if you know this secret. Just one Golden Glint Shampoo will show you the way! In addition to cleansing, it gives your hair a "tiny-tint"— a wee little to — not much — hardly perceptible. But how it brings out hidden beauty! You'd never dream such a simple little "touch" could make so much difference in your appearance. 25c at your dealers', or send 10c for sample and booklet. J. W. KOBI CO 633 Rainier Ave.. Dept. L, Seattle, Wash. / enclose 10c for sample of Golden Glint Shampoo. Nam e . Address City State Color of my hair: Tired.. Nervous Wife Wins Back Pep! TIER raw nerves were soothed. She banished that "dead tired" feeling.Won new youthful color — restful nights, active days — all because she rid her system of bowel-clogging wastes that were sapping her vitality. NR Tablets (Nature's Remedy)— the mild, safe, allvegetable laxative — worked the transformation. Try it for constipation, biliousness, headaches, dizzy spells, colds. See how refreshed you feel. At all druggists' — 25c. l£% TO-NIGHT I ^ % TOMORROW A (.RIGHT . CpCpi New gold &blae rnttl 1934 CalendarThermometer — eampleB NR and Tame. Send name, address, stamp to A. H. LEWIS CO. Desk SF-91 St. Louis, Missouri ODORLESS HAIR REMOVER Not a razor, liquid, fk P £ paste or powder £w Baby Touch is the simple, easy way to remove hair from arms, legs and face — quickly and safely. It is odorless and painless and leaves skin soft, white and beautiful, fenou.d last a month. Don't confuse Baby Touch with cheap imitations made of carborundum or emery paper. Insist on Baby Touch — the choice of thousands of enthusiastic women. Only 25c at drug or department stores or send 25c direct to BABY TOUCH HAIR REMOVER CO. 2351 Olive St. St. Loujs. Mo. 20 Stories Recently Sold for our clients to the Talking Picture Producers in Hollvwood. All major Studios in New York closed leaving HOLLYWOOD ONLY ACTIVE MARKET. Deal with a recognized Hollvwood agent. Established since 1917, in daily PERSONAL CONTACT with Studios, we know market requirements. Original plots and ideas are what is wanted. Manuscripts may be submitted in any form for FREE reading and report. Send for FREE BOOK giving full details. UNIVERSAL SCENARIO COMPANY 543 Meyer Bldg., Western & Siena Visla, Hollywood, California Then, there's "Tillie and Gus" which features Alison Skipworth and W. C. Fields in the name roles. In the story Tillie and Gus are divorced. Gus is in Alaska and Tillie in China. Gus is a card sharp and Tillie can make the dice say "Seven" nine times out of ten. Wandering on to the stage I find a reproduction of the waiting room in a San Francisco railroad station. And is it authentic! There are the ticket windows, the boards announcing the arrival and departure of trains, a heterogeneous assortment of passengers sitting on the benches waiting for their trains, some of them sleeping, people scurrying to and fro. And, at the "Tourists Aid" desk sit Skippy and the matron. "Mrs. Matilda Winterbottom," the matron repeats, filling in a form. Then she glances at Tillie. "You say you're a Chinese missionary?" "I said," answers Skippy with great dignity, "that I was a missionary in China. That, I understand, entitles me to a reduction in my railroad fare." "Of course," the matron replies. She writes another line or two. "How did you conduct your work?" "Through kindness," Skippy informs her. "My object was to bring them in out of the darkness— put more spirits into them, as it were— and relieve them of their material burdens." That Skippy is going to be the death of me yet. Give me Skipworth and Boland and you can have all the Dresslers and Robsons you want. Over at R-K-O HERE they have four pictures going, which, for them, is a lot. One of them— "Aggie Appleby"— stars an ex-Paramounter— Wynne Gibson, who never got the breaks she deserved on the latter lot. Her new picture, which also marks the return of Charlie Farrell to the screen, is by way of being a wow. Aggie is little and blonde— and not a lady. Her mother is dead and her father a drunken bum. When home gets too much she moves out and lands a job as waitress in a Greek restaurant. One night she is asked to stay late and serve a party. All the Greeks in the party paw her and when she screams for help it comes in the person of the tough, redheaded bouncer, Red Branagan (William Gargan). He piles up the floor with unconscious Greeks, loses his job and takes Wynne home to his shabbily furnished room. They start living together and would be very happy if he could make a steady income. But he can't get a job and his fortunes rise and fall with his crap games. Their funds give out and that was where they were when, with a beaming smile I breeze on to the set. "Hello," says Wynne glumly. "What's wrong?" I ask. "I'm about to be dispossessed." "Well, it's lucky I came. I just got a check from Silver Screen this morning." "No," says Wynne firmly. "It's awfully good of you but if you paid the rent it would upset the whole plot. I'll just have to go through with it." I glance around the set. A very cheaply furnished room. In fact, I should think it would be a relief to be put out of a room like that. Wynne's costume causes me misgivings. It is of black satin with a cheap lace bodice, very short and very tight. "Come on, folks," the director calls, and Wynne takes her place. Shortly there is a knock at the door. "Come in," Wynne invites, walking over to it. The door opens and on the other side stands Grace Darwell, the landlady. "How's it, Mrs. Spence?" Wynne inquires. "Swell day, ain't it? Or, don't you think so?" Darwell smiles deprecatingly. "Guess you know why I'm here." "Well," says Wynne smiling in return, "Mr. Branagan ain't home yet. I'll send it down to you the minute he comes." "It's $14.00— not counting the week in advance." "Yeah," Wynne agrees amiably, "I know. Hardly worth wastin' breath over." "Well, I'm afraid," Darwell responds, still not getting nasty about it, "I'll have to have the money or the room— tonight." "Sure," Wynne soothes her. "You practically got it in your old sock now." She closes the door and leans against it a moment. "Sweet," she murmurs with a sarcastic inflection. Then she grimaces and gives a disgusted "Ugh! It ain't worth worryin' over." "See what I'm up against?" she asks, coming back to me when the scene is finished. On the set of "Little Women" all is sweetness and light, dished up in large helpings. Last month the set was closed to visitors but I get hold of Director Joan Bennett and Katharine Hepburn in a scene from "Little Women," the next exhibit of the Hepburn magic. George Cukor and threaten to expose him in print if he doesn't let me on. He turns a sickly green and bids me welcome. The period is around Civil War time and the room— well, it's interesting as the deuce to look at but I'm darned glad I'm not living in a house furnished like that. There's an old curio cabinet filled with all sorts of china knick-knacks just waiting to catch every grain of dust in sight. Landscape paintings, such as no one uses any more, adorn the walls. A heavy plush cover hides the mantelpiece. Some wax flowers are under a glass bell. The chairs are the kind you have to sit bolt upright on. Joan Bennett (as Amy) is a dream in a peacock blue dress (hoop skirt) and a hat to match with a dab of ostrich feathers in front and ribbons all over the place. Katharine Hepburn (as Jo) has on a brown dress in the same mode, with white ruching in the sleeves and neck. Hers is made in a kind of basque effect. And Edna May Oliver (as Aunt March) confines herself to a stiffly proper gown made of black velvet and taffeta. "Isn't this hair of mine something to behold?" Hepburn demands of her hairdresser. Hepburn is working as governess in the home of a New York family and Oliver and Bennett have come to see her. The latter two take their places in the stiffly formal room. A moment later the door bursts open and Hepburn rushes breathlessly in. The two girls fall into each other's arms, laughing, kissing and em | bracing. "How are you, Aunt March?" says Hep