Silver Screen (Nov 1936-Apr 1937)

and tomorrow. It was born in my blood, it was bred in m) bone, it gre\\ with my growth. "I took the name ol Douglas, when I began to have some success on the stage, tor obvious reasons," smiled Melvyn. "The name of Hesselberg ^vould not lend itself to electric lights. I have some legitimate right to the name of Douglas. For during my childhood my mother told me grim and ex i''*''" f'<"i<2 citing tales of the 'Black Douglas' of Scotland from which clan she was descended. "AVhen, at first, I wanted to be a poet my mother and father objected. My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps. My mother ad\ocated the legal profession. My father used subtle influences to persuade me to his calling. He saw to it that I attended all of the better concerts: walked, so to speak, with Brahms and Beethoven and Mozart and \Vagncr. "My mother, on the other hand, took me to court as often as possible so that, whene\er a big case was being tried, I might hear famous attorneys pleading, crossexamining. "This friendly tug of war between my parents was good for me. It strengthened and emphasized my determination lo be only \vhat / wanted to be, to do only what I wanted to do. It has stood me in clcfmite good stead here in Holly^vood. For when agents and producers are advising and cajoling me to do those things in which I do not believe, I am, again, the small boy With his wife, Helen Gahagan, the well-known actress, and their son, Peter. (Above) A scene from "Women of Glamour," with Virginia Bruce. who, at a concert, said to himself, 'No, this is not for me!' . . . who, in court, thought, 'No. no, I do not belong here!' "I spent my boyhood in various schools about the country and one school year in Germany. My father was on toiu", you see, and the family went with him. This also contributed to my isolation, socialh. I couldn't make many real friends. \Vc didn't stay long enough in any one place. I had very liltle spending mone> . few indtilgcnccs. And so I have nc\er (k\rl()|icd an) tasie for hixiny. I watched n'ly father doing the thing he loved bcft in I he world. And I f,a\v that he was salislied with \ery little because he ^vas doing the thing he loved. "It ^vas when I ^vas in school in Toronto, Canada, that I made my first attempt lo rim :\\\i\y from what I was doing. I tried to join the armv via Ihc Scotch Highlanders. I lied about my age. But I didn't get away with it. My parents found me and, firmly, took me home again. "It was while we were in Lincoln. Nebraska, later on that my father, being director of music at the High School there, was asked if he ^vould have any objections to his son appearing in the school dramatics. No objections forthcoming 1 appeared in several high school plays. My first appearance on any stage was as a Hindu in 'The Little Princess.' "But again I ran away. Then, as now. that inner voice, that prompter, call it what you will, urged me, saying 'Enough of this! Get out! Get a\vay! Escape!' And that time I succeeded. I enlisted and spent the Avar years in a medical corps at Fort Lewis, Washington, .^nd there I developed a tremendous admiration for surgery, for medicine. I thought of entering medical school \vhen, if ever, the Armistice should be signed." "But after my 'honorable discliarge' from the .^rmy I was visiting in Chicago and there ran into an old acquaintance (an actor who had starred throughout the Middle West) who had seen me in school pla\s. His name was 'William Owen. He prevailed upon me to join his school of acting. I did. I was given personal coaching, did parts in plays produced and, later, Owen organized a repertory troupe to play the Middle "West again. I learned, later, that his real reason for oi-ganizing the troupe \vas to give me an opportunity to gain actual stage experience. "This was in 1919. We did Shakespearean productions. My first professional role was that of Bassanio in 'The Merchant of Venice.' And for the next eight or nine years we toured and did Shakespeare. I spent two years with Jessie Bonstelle. Later, in Madison, ^Visconsin, I owned and managed my own company. I was doing weW. Gaining a reputation. Sa\'ing money. Everything rosy. Suddenly. I got what the poets would name the 'call,' what the layman \\ould call the 'itch'— 1 drew out of the bank the few thoirsand dollars 1 had laboriously saved, paid otT my company and went around tlie world. I threw it all overboard, the' years of work and training, the name I was beginning to make, the money I had saved. "Sounds a trifle fantastic, doesn't it?" laughed Melvyn. "But if you want me to tell you the ^\hole truth about m\self I must tell you the deepest truth in me which is that I've got to be satisfied with whdt I am doing or its no go and / go. .^nd big money, glamorous fame and recognition do not satisfy me tnilcss I know these things are soundly backed up. "It wasn't until 1928 that Broadwax and I finally got together, and I played the pi\n of Ace ^Volfgang in 'A Free Soul.' Clark CJable plaiicd that part later on the screen. "I m.'Hle se\cral jjlavs— 'The Silver Cord' with Laura Ho))c Crews, 'jealousy' with Fav Bainter, '1 he Command To Lo\c.' 'The Comeback,' 'Tonight or Never' and some others. "Fhe last named marked the biggest milestone in my life. It was the last play I")a\ id Bclasco exer jiroduccd. And starring in it was Helen [Continued on page 61] 21