Silver Screen (Nov 1938-Apr 1939)

72 Silver Screen for January 1939 She's Dancing Again [Continued from page 11] ! down-to-earth people as the camera boys like her. They usually don't. Joan has just finished emoting in "The Shining Hour'' which you can catch any day now. She saw the play in New York several years ago and liked it so much she asked Metro to buy it for her and adapt it into a picture. Metro was quite surprised by the request, as the play has two lesser roles in it which are so written that if they are half way decently played they will definitely steal the picture right from under the star's nose. "Er-Joan," said Metro, "We-er-we-er must hud someone for the roles of the sister and young wife. Have you-cr-any suggestions?" "Sure," said Joan, "I think Margaret. Sullavan would be simply grand for the young wife, and Fay Bainter would be perfection itself for the sister-in-law." "But Joan," gulped Metro, "Sullavan and Bainter are top-notch stars. Sullavan's a great dramatic actress and Bainter has been sweeping all before her ever since 'White Banners.' Don't you think— perhaps— two actresses less important?" "It's all right with me if Margaret and Miss Bainter swipe the picture," said Joan. "They undoubtedly will. But 1 don't want to sacrifice a good story to poor casting. It's all right with me if you put a star in every part. I'd rather be a supporting player in a good picture than the star of a bad picture. And that was that. Whatever you say about Joan, and people always seem to find plenty to say, she is one of the few stars who never hogs her pictures. (Claudette Colbert is another. In "Zaza" Claudette was quite delighted when they wrote added scenes for little Mary Todd, pink-cheeked baby girl, though she IT'S YOUR TURI TO BE HAPPY! You have waited long enough! It Is time now that your life should change, that you should succeed, that happiness should come to your home for good! It is all so simple when you know yourself, and know the astrological laws which rule your destiny. To find out, simply send your name (Mr., Mrs. or Miss), address, date and place of birth to Professor Benedict, Villa Louise, 13 Rue Richelieu, Roubaix, Nord, France, (Postage: 5() and you will receive a free horoscopic reading (in plain envelope) that will astound you by its insight. Happiness, according to Astrology, is bas:d on laws just like any other science, and your reading will contain the key to this valuable knowledge. Professor Benedict, leading astrologer of Romantic France, has devoted his entire life to the practice of star-lore and by his vast experience can really help you effectively. If vou wish to defray some of his clerical exoenses. please add seven 24 stamps to your request. They will be returned if vou are not satisfied. Important: if you write very legibly. Professor Benedict will send you a curious free talisman with his reply. SONG POEMS Be convinced NOW! Ray Hibbeler, C-19, 2157 N. or melody writers! Send for Outstanding, amazing offer. Seeing is believing. Avers Aw., Chicago, IIS. knew full well that little Mary with her lisp would steal every scene she was in.) Margaret Sullavan and Joan had barely met when "The Shining Hour" went into production, and there were those who would take odds that Temperamental Maggie and Glamorous Joan would fight it out if it took all winter. Joan and Maggie hated to disappoint their dear, dear friends but they got along beautifully from the very start. The second day of shooting, a Saturday afternoon, there was a knock on Joan's dressing room door and Maggie said, "Joan, may I come in?" "Why of course, Maggie," said Joan, "You can come into my dressing room any time. You know that." Whereupon she' opened the door and in stumbled little Brooke Hayward (Margaret's eighteen months' old daughter) who seemed to recognize in Joan a kindred soul because, although ordinarily a very shy child, she walked right up to Joan and held out her arms. When Margaret returned from the set she found Joan and Brooke with a couple of lipsticks scribbling on the wall papering. "The stationery gave out, and we didn't want to stop," Joan confessed guiltily. "I won't get mad," laughed Margaret, "until she starts marking up my walls. Then 1 11 sue you." Joan and Maggie and Brooke became the best of pals after that. As a matter of fact, at the end of the picture when Joan produced her autograph book (Joan, like any other avid fan, collects autographs of people whom she admires) Margaret wrote in it, "Joan: To be truthful I dreaded this picture. But it's been the nicest yet. Thanks to you. Maggie." No it wasn't Joan and it wasn't Maggie, nor was it Fay Bainter, who came forth with a temperamental outburst in "The Shining Hour." It was, of all people. Frank Borzage, the director, and one of the kindest most gentle men in Hollywood. All one morning Mr. Borzage had rehearsed one of the most difficult scenes in the picture —a scene between Margaret and Joan, who are both in love with the same man, Robert Young— but somehow it just didn't seem to come out right. At last he changed a few lines and it seemed much better. "We'll take it right after lunch," he said. Right after lunch (it was a Saturday afternoon) Brooke arrived with her agent father and they took a seat on the stage to wait for Mamma to finish acting. There also arrived with Bennett, the Crawford chauffeur, Pupschen, a very well-mannered dachshund. Pupschen covered his mistress with doggy kisses and then settled down for his afternoon nap. Mr. Borzage summoned his artists and started the '"take." Just then, Pupschen discovered a cat, or maybe he only dreamed it, but he went "Br-r-r-ow" right in the midst of Joan's big dramatic moment. Pupschen was removed from the set. "Now," said Mr. Borzage, "we've been on this for hours and I'm sure we're awfully tired of it. Let's make this the perfect take. Camera." Once more Joan and Margaret filled their eyes with tears and started their dramatics. "Da Da, Bye Bye," interrupted Miss Brooke Hayward. "I love him with all my heart and always shall— please don't let that be my child," said Margaret, as the scene came to an abrupt end. Brooke was removed from the set. "Please, dear God," said Mr. Borzage, "in my next picture give me actresses without dogs and babies." All you have to do is make a picture in Hollywood and sooner or later the entire world shows up on your set. Unless of course you are one of those snooty stars who always sticks up an "Absolutely No Visitors" sign on her stage door. Joan is not a snooty star. She loves tourists on her sets. She'll give autographs with a smile, and if you ask her she will have her picture taken with you— which is indeed a souvenir of Hollywood that will make the boys back home turn green with envy. One day on "The Shining Hour" set she noticed what looked like a goodly portion of the U. S. Army hovering in the background. After the rehearsal Joan went over to meet them (you just ought to see how they have to beg some of the stars to say a civil word to visitors) and was informed they were General Sam. T. Lawton, his wife, and staff, on their first visit to Hollywood. Mrs. Lawton looked vaguely familiar. "Haven't we met somewhere before," Joah asked. "We certainly have," said Mrs. Lawton with a smile. "Vou took my place in Ernie Young's revue when the show moved from Chicago to Detroit about sixteen years ago. I left the show to get married. Remember? I was Margarite Dahlquist then. Ruth Etting and Ted Healy were stars of the show. I gave up show business in favor of army life." "Well," said Joan, "then I'm really indebted to General Lawton for my first dancing job. Thank you, General." Joan's last dancing job (she's come a long way since the General helped her out sixteen years ago) is with Tony DeMarco of the famous DeMarcos in the opening sequence of "The Shining Hour." Joan has a superfluity of nervous energy and can get more done in a month than most people in a lifetime. She is an early riser— the only movie star, with the exception of Carole Lombard, who calls you over the 'phone before eight-thirty in the morning. She plans all the meals, does the ordering, and when you are invited to have dinner at Joan's you know that she will have something you like very much. She keeps a mental list of her guests' likes and dislikes. She goes over her accounts regularly and pays all her bills promptly on the first of the month— which makes her so popular with the shopkeepers of Hollywood that they are planning to canonize her. She has no secretary, and personally answers all her mail. Besides her numerous household duties, she takes French lessons and voice lessons regularly. Right now she is working hard on her ice skating lessons as her next picture will be "Ice Follies," in which she both skates for the first time, and sings opera for the first time. What a field day that will be for the Crawford fans. You'd think that a person who has her days so well scheduled would be awfully dull. But not Joan. Her conversation is always amusing, sometimes brilliant, and she loves a good "dish" over the luncheon table, or before the fire after dinner, as well as the rest of us." She likes to tell jokes that are slightly naughty but not dirty. She smokes cigarettes and spills the ashes on the floor. She doesn't drink. I don't know whether it's because she doesn't like the taste of anything stronger than tea, or whether it's because several years ago she walked into the Trocadero Cellar and saw ten women sitting at the bar, with their backs to her. The contours where each lady met the stool frightened Joan. Since then no one has ever been able to lure her to a bar stool, even to sip a tomato juice. At the baby shower given for her very good friend, Julie Murphy, the other day, the hostess, Venita Oakie, announced that the donor of the seventh present Mrs. Murphy opened would be the next mother in the group. The seventh present was Joan's. "Maybe it will be our best scandal of the year," cracked Joan. They say that Annabella, who is divorcing her husband in France, would like Tyrone Power to be her next. Who wouldn't?