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L A Dl E S
At the RKO studios. Betty Roberts (left) is in complete charge of the scenario department. Her knowledge of good screen stories is profound.
By DOROTHEA
HAWLEY CARTWKIGHT
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To the right we have Peggie Coleman, chief nurse over at the Metro Gold wyn Mayer lot. She can cure you of anything, in a jiflfy — or half a jiffy.
HOEVER said this is a man's world had never been to Hollywood! In almost every one of the highly specialized departments of the motion picture industry, women have invaded territory that is masculine by tradition.
Probably best known to the fans is Dorothy Arzner, one of the most successful women to pit her ability against that of men. She is one of the most delightful young persons in the film colony — frank, unassuming, and completely lacking in egotism, in spite of her being the only woman director in the business. Photographs of her suggest an austerity that she does not possess. The trim tweed suits she wears are by no means a concession to her "masculine" position — she apparently is lacking in the frilly vanities of the average woman, and she finds tweeds comfortable. She is probably the only woman allowed at the sacred long table reserved for Paramount bigwigs; but she is not flattered by this privilege— after all, there are lots of other tables in the room! She believes in talkies as excellent entertainment, but was never terrified by them. Stage and screen are two separate entities, and neither will ever encroach seriously on the other. Miss Arzner is enthusiastic over the possibilities of television, which she claims will be the next great forward stride in the motion picmre business. Her practical knowledge of many branches of the film industry — she has been secretary, reader, writer, script girl, and star cutter — enables her to tackle her difficult job intelligently. She, as a person, is every bit as interesting as the success she has carved for herself in a business of heartbreaking ups and downs. A success for which she has worked hard and thoroughly.
NOW there's a woman assistant di reaor — a quiet girl named Wmifred Laurance, whose fluenc}' in four languages made it possible for her to aid in the filming of the RKO foreign versions of R/o Rita, The Case of Sergeant Grischa. and other pictures. As assistant director, her work consists of okaying pay checks, synchronizing and cutting film, and outlining work for the entire company for the following day. It is, naturally. Miss Laurance' s ambition to attain a full directorship some day.
Sounds of vigorous whacking, mingled with the groans of strong men and plump women, issue from a certain bungalow on the Pathe lot. That's Sylvia Ulbeck. the fa
Henrietta Cohn (left) isi Business Manager at Paramount. She had complete charge of all the expenditures .JTor the film Sarah and Son.
mous Norwegian masseuse, who looks quite small and un terrifying — until she rolls up her sleeves and gets to work. God creates humans, but Sylvia makes them safe for 'dat ole davil camera." They may be black and blue in their boudoir, but the stars are beautiful on the screen when she finishes ihem! Every week Sylvia deposits $400 in her sock, paid by the studio. Stars come from every other lot in Hollywood, at $10 to $25 a treatment, paid into the Pathe coffers
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