Silver Screen (Nov 1936-Apr 1937)

Silver Screen for January 1937 53 it was so intensely liot that, as the day progressed, they were working in a temperature of 140°! "It was exciting," is his comment. "We got up at 4:30 eacli morning, had breakfast at 5 and started work before the cameras at six. We rested from eleven to three, because it was impossible to continue under the vertical rays of the sun. We'd start working again at three and shoot as long as the light permitted. And we had to eat Arabic food, because, while it was filmed in the Arizona desert, the story, itself, is laid in the Sahara. Have you ever tasted 'conscous,' a sort of Irish stew?" he laughed delightedly. "It was delicious. Another was meat grilled on iron stakes called Lahm muchui. Too bad I couldn't have saved some for you." "Thanks awfully," I said, forcing a smile, and blessing Buddha, Confucius and Mohainmed. "I'll settle for a double malted." "Ping" Brodie, who in 1910, was the home run king of the New York Giants, was on the electrical staff of the "Garden of Allah" crew. "Ping" and Boyer became fast friends ^vho found a common interest in sports. When the rest of the company were inside the tents catching up on their siestas "Ping" would be giving Charles a play-by-play description of a game he won from the White Sox back in '12. Charles was the best audience "Ping" ever had— in or out of the bleachers! Hardships, when in line of duty, don't mean a thing, except to keep him in touch with his fellowhumans. He likes people, likes to talk to them, get their viewpoints. For instance: "Snow," one of his two chauffeurs, insists they're ing through bits of business until they're perfected to his personal satisfaction. He's a dynamo of action. And his utter sincerity has forestalled comment that would seriously affect the prestige of another. No one has ever accused Boyer of being a poseur. No one, I believe, would dare! You have heard, of course, of the immense courage of the man. He topped failure with failure, played in the "Magnificent Lie," which was also a magnificent liability, appeared in foreign versions of Fox pictures and was even shunted into bits in American films which had to be deleted when shown in foreign countries out of deference to his fantastic following in Europe. "I'd rather follow the mental reactions of one man in the street than all those sitting at executives' desks," he told me. "It's a hundred to one shot, you see," and his large eyes glow and that vein on his forehead becomes a vital living thing, giving his face intensity and a handsome ruggedness. He insists one must be of the people and think with the people to make one's work interesting to the people. He is vitally interested in everyone about him. With the Frenchman's shrewd capacity for judging people, circumstances and things generally, he has also the true Gaelic flair for doing the unusual, the spontaneous. Because of that he knows, quite certainly, that Walter Wanger was the medium of his success. With limitless admiration for the man he explains, "Wanger has the most uncanny ability for casting, one of the unsolved problems of Hollywood and the greatest single stumbling block to successful films." On the other hand, Boyer doesn't believe in consistent teaming on the screen. Perhaps he will make another picture or two with Dietrich, or with any other star with whom the studio may couple him; like most canny individuals he sees beyond the rewards of immediate success. "Teaming is successful, usually," he concedes with candor, "but it is the box-office reaction of the fans— again reacting against the players— which makes it unsuccessful in the future." He is, you see, the same Charles Boyer who spent thirty-five years steering his course clear of adoring, desperate, designing, reckless feminity— and then tossed his jealously-guarded freedom hastily aside -ivhen he fell head-over-heels in love ivith the winsome and ingenuous Pat Paterson. Such are the inconsistencies of the Boyer charm. Of all the pictures he has done, "Private Worlds," with Claudette Colbert, remains his favorite, because, he says, "It was such an intelligent theme." And he is intensely interested in doing other pictures which are stimulating and thoughtful. Among his fan letters is one which he recently received consisting of seventy-nine pages— about 10,000 words— something in the manner, one might suppose, of a true life story! "Movie audiences," he says, "are largely alert, intelligent, understanding people. They enjoy all types of pictures, but they appreciate those which, either directly or indirectly, bring hope, thoughlfulness and a message." He says it in no crusading spiritthere is too much of Montmarte in his make-up! It remains to be seen \vhat color will do for him— and to him— for "Garden of Allah" falls into the Technicolor class. He professes keen interest in it as a new medium with all sorts of interesting possibilities. His next Wanger production scheduled is "History Is Made at Night." It will be interesting to watch his career— which we are sure will be long and, can it be doubted, exciting! His rise to the very vanguard of screen prominence has been mercurial, yet he has proven "beyond reasonable doubt," that for him it has been the well won heights of success, richly deserved. Pat Paterson (Mrs. Boyer) and her husband in Hollywood, where he is playing in "History Is Made At Night." (Right) Scene from "The Garden of Allah," with Charles Boyer and Marlene Dietrich — a both kept so Technicolor picture, that Charles will have "someone to talk to," for he's an excellent dii^er, ha\ing learned on the circuitous roacls of Switzerland. He even has a ihird ch.iullcur in Paris— and in view of the fact the Uoyers are so seldom there I think he simply hasn't the heart to let him go! He's a character, of course. Years ago the Parisians became quite accustomed to a young man gesticulating and mumbling to hhnself as he traversed the Bois. It \vas nothing unusual to see the young actor pacing to and fro living out each scene of a hundred varied roles. And the habit has kept step down the years. On the set you'll find him walking miles, oblivious of people, gesturing, grimacing, go