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Silver Screen for January 1939
73
Living Up to His Name
[Continued from page 47]
"I don't think I ever had one," he confided.
He was afraid of New York . . . actually. He arrived at Pennsylvania Station around seven in the morning and it was three in the afternoon before he could screw up his courage sufficiently to venture forth on a tour of investigation. Those hours were spent between the rest room, the soda fountain, and the information desk.
"I was afraid I'd never be able to find my way back to get my bags if I went away and I was either too afraid or too dumb to want to ask directions. But I soon got over that." John grinned with a half-wise, half-humorous twinkle in his eyes . . . something like the look he directed toward Pat O'Brien when, as the orchestra leader in "Garden of the Moon" he planned to outsmart Pat.
Whenever John went out during his recent New York sojourn he was accosted by autograph hunters, for fame is as swift as oblivion.
"It was Anne they really recognized," he explained modestly. "I just happened to be along. Mostly they were youngsters and we loved each one of them."
But I knew Anne had not been the sole attraction of the autograph hounds. I had heard about the rather bold lad who had phoned him at the hotel and posing as a member of Warner's Publicity Department, got in with one of those almost life size photographs you find decorating the front of a theater, which he had John autograph.
"The kids have been swell," John continued. "Anne and I started to the theatre the other afternoon and were stopped by a mob. We signed until our hands ached and we were in danger of being late for the curtain. I hate crawling over people's knees in the dark. They always think you planned it. So I took the kids into our confidence. 'Listen fellows,' I said. 'We want to go to the theatre. Do you" mind if we finish this another time?' That gang of youngsters faded like magic."
John has his own ideas about acting. And he has his favorites, even as you and I.
"Anne and I are great movie fans. I don't mean just about our own pictures. We go to movies all the time, whenever there is the least opportunity. I like the style of such actors as Bette Davis, James Stewart, Margaret Sullavan and Henry Fonda. All of these kids who came out of that particular school of acting seem to have a
She was on the Titanic in "Cavalcade," but Margaret Lindsay hasn't sunk yet.
different style than the old-timers, or even of those who are following. None of them can be called unusual in appearance. Stewart and Fonda are rangy and shy in manner, something like Gary Cooper, but they get under your skin and stay there. When I acquire the qualities which they have I'll feel I'm beginning to get along."
I did not think it necessary to tell him that he already had the qualities about which he talked. He can hardly be called a matinee idol, a screen pretty-boy, for all his regularity of features and his well proportioned six feet two inches. He is entirely too virile. Without being imitative he has the same he-man attributes which have kept Gable at the top against the onslaught of younger and very fine actors.
In his love scenes with Margaret Lindsay he does not act like a simpering actor. He speaks as he might have spoken to Anne Shirley when he told her of his love and asked her to be his wife. You believe in him; you almost feel as though this were happening to you. Again, when he threatens to cut Pat O'Brien down to his right size, sheer drama, without the aid of theatricals, is born before your eyes.
But John Payne should know the proper approach here. He was a star athlete in high school and college. He held intercollegiate championships in javelin and hammer throwing events; he wrestled and he played left end in football. Later, in New York, he wrestled half a dozen or so professional bouts.
At present he is unofficially writing a novel, strictly for his own amusement. He says he will always write, he can't help it. In the days when he was getting the feel of things in New York he wrote yarns by the dozen for the pulp magazines. He was a regular contributor to "Amazing Stories," "Astounding Stories," "Weird Stories," and once, only once, he sold a short story to Collier's, this one under his own name.
"When I was knocking them out for the pulps I used to have a lot of names. Mostly I was doctor somebody or other. It seemed to me that the doctors always got the best of it in writing so I thought it wouldn't hurt for me to be one for a while."
At that moment a press agent descended upon us. Anne Shirley had already been cornered upstairs in their suite and was being photographed in hats and gowns and what not.
Later John is taking Anne for a short visit to the old homestead in Roanoke, after which he returns to Hollywood to make "Row, Row, Row." I believe this is a college story. He will shortly be seen with George Brent in "Wings of the Navy." And I'll be down front watching the lad from Virginia for I'm convinced "We've got something here."
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