Silver Screen (Apr-Sep 1936)

5 8 Silver Screen for July 1936 like you." So I arrived at Miss Blondell's hill-side home fully expecting not to be liked. Well, I hadn't been there long when Joanie popped up with, "Don't look now, but George and I are getting married in Phoenix, Arizona, tomorrow and how would you like to come along? It might be fun." It certainly was. It was the most fun I've ever had on any interview. By the way, maybe I had better frame up an interview with Joanie again soon, for maybe she will take me along when she elopes with Dick Powell. Or maybe she considers me bad luck now. Bill Powell is a swell person to interview, and you can count on grand laughs. An interview with Mirian Hopkins, as I told you once before, is a social season, but still you don't get the interview. George Raft tells you the most exciting stories about himself, but tops it all off with "but you can't print that." Gary Cooper won't talk, but is such a nice guy you have to forgive him. Stars whom I am fond of interviewing, mainly I suppose because they don't consider me a snake in the grass, a hellion of journalism, a murderer and a liar (maybe they do but I'm not smart enough to catch on) are Dick Powell, Joan Crawford, Una Merkel, Franchot Tone, Madge Evans, Joel McCrea, Joan Bennett, William Powell, Claudette Colbert, Loretta Young, Joan Blondell and Myrna Loy. Sylvia Sidney is also one of my favorites, though an interview with her is always a duel of insults to the death. "Why do you bother me," Sylvia always greets me with. "You know you've written this story before seeing me. But I suppose I'll have to give you lunch anyway. Why don't you take me to lunch sometimes?" A nasty person, but I like her. Which Girl Typifies Hollywood ? freshness to her personality has the male population pursuing. But producer Arthur Hornblow is the one who's seen with her most of the time. (And, as yet, he isn't legally free of former marital ties.) Myrna makes the young men sigh and the old men cry. But she goes on her mysterious way alone. Yes, she's a lovely lady. If only she'd break down and live the typical Hollywood life? Where, oh where, is our typical girl? What about Joan Bennett? Yes, she has this and that and the other. But she also has the responsibility of running a home and a career and two children and a husband. She's the only person who could manage all this and still look her full "twelve" years of age. So you wouldn't envy her for being the typical Hollywood girl. Maybe we're seeking Virginia Bruce (who isn't?). Sweet shades of alabaster and pale moonlight. She's the most beautiful girl in pictures. She loves parties, night clubs, clothes and dates. What's more, she's got a me-e-ellion of 'em. She has her own home, and it even boasts a pipe organ. But "behind all her gaiety, there is always her concern for little Susanne Gilbert. Virginia loves her baby passionately. She, too, was threatened by kidnappers. Virginia has so much, and yet— she just isn't the girl who fits into the mental picture. Hepburn is a fugitive from Hollywood photographers. And so is Margaret Sullavan. The Hollywood life is not for them. [Continued from page 25] Loretta Young has almost everything. Yet she must guard her health to prevent a reoccurrence of her recent breakdown. Director Eddie Sutherland is a constant and admiring companion. Her colonial home, her cars, her servants, her beauty are representative of everything that is enviable. She has all this and yet she doesn't typify the thing we're looking for. There is Jean Muir who is young and blonde and beautiful. She has a nice contract and her fan mail arrives by the hundreds. But the Hollywood life is not for Jean. She lives in an inexpensive apartment and cooks her own meals. She owns one evening gown and hasn't a fur or jewel to her name. She's only been to one or two Hollywood night clubs and she neither drinks nor smokes. Jean is popular with the boys, but she'd rather receive a first edition than a second invitation. She worships the theatre and owns her own workshop. She's already produced two of her own plays. Her life is dedicated to work, so she's out of the Hollywood spotlight. And so our search goes on. There's Stanwyck, Dunne and Duna. Evans, Furness and Una. Parker, Patrick and Francis. Del Rio, Hopkins and Ginger. Blondell, Sidney and Keeler. We could rave on and on. One by one our beauitful ladies fail us. Until we come to— Jean Harlow. It looks like our own Jeanie is just the one we've been looking for. Make way for the typical girl! Jean Harlow lives in a great white house, Sol Lesser remarked: "The new flashing lights of the Wrigley sign opposite the Hotel Astor keep the guests awake. Makes them toss and turn." "You mean it makes them wrigley," said Jack Oakie with the wit of a young benedict. on the top of a hill in Bell-Aire. There is a combination radio and phonograph in every room. Jean's bedroom is actually seven different shades of white. She owns dozens of pastel-shaded pajamas, with her diamond-shaped monogram on the pocket of each. She always has breakfast in bed. Her two Persian cats eat with her. (They're almost the same brownette shade as Jean's new hair.) Jean owns a beautiful black sedan, driven by a uniformed chauffeur. The lap robe is monogrammed with her initials "J. H." Blanche is her maid at home and in the studio. Jean loves to pose for photographs ind never refuses to give an autograph. At iiome she swims, rides and plays tennis. She has a green and white pool, a barbecue pit and picnic tables for parties, white iron garden furniture, her own white gasoline pump, a hot house where she grows gardenias and a garage with accommodations for five. If she wants to be by herself, Jean can sit on the great bearskin rug in her living room and gaze into the fireplace. If she wants to pack a picnic basket, wear slacks and go hiking off to the desert, there's Bill Powell to help her do it. When they want to get dressed up and go dancing at the Trocadero, Jean and Bill do it together. When Bill is in a particularly gay mood, he arrives at Jean's house carrying a dripping carton of ice cream. The very first time they went out together, Jean fell fast asleep. Bill asked if he could drive her up to Santa Barbara for dinner. Jean had been working all day and knew that she should say no. Being a female, she said yes. Completely exhausted she slept until they arrived at their destination. After dinner she slept all the way home. Bill Powell thanked her for a lovely evening and the next dav sent flowers. He always sends a corsage on the day of the date and more flowers the day following. If Bill comes over and they dine alone. Jean has a table for two, set in front of a roaring fireplace. Usually he is late and Jean never lets him forget it. One night she gave a dinner party. It was long past the appointed hour, so she decided to teach him a lesson. Taking her guests into the dining room, Jean decided not to wait. There, at the head of the table, sat a sleepv-eved Bill: "I've been waiting for hours," said he, "I thought you wanted to have dinner on time." When Jean goes shopping, she buys stockings a dozen pair at a time. Recentlv she purchased an entirely new wardrobe to go with her new brownette personality. Wherever she goes, Jean Harlow always is the center of attention. Her life is overflowing with beauty, romance, success, adulation, jewels, cars, clothes— all the things that make up the Hollywood life. So, actually there is only one beautiful girl who really typifies— The Hollywood Life.