HOLLYWOOD IN PERSON.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 224, 21 September 1929, Page 5 (Supplement)

HOLLYWOOD IN PERSON.

GOSSIP OF THE STUDIOS. (By MOLLIE MERRICK.) HOLLYWOOD (CAL.), Aug. 21. Tho latest in Los Angeles is the distribution of handkerchiefs to every woman attending Ruth Chatterton's triumphant, movie. That the attendance is gratifying would seem to dispel our fears that, this had become a happinessridden nation. I for one had come to feel that Pollvannn had us for keeps if for no earthly good. But people buy tickets, fravely accept, the little weep-squares, and go in for a good cry. The real secret of this sudden popularity of the misery role is that this is the best talkie yet made. With it, Lionel Barrymore and Ruth Chattertou put talkies among the arts. Pete, Hollywood's most famous trick dog. had a. "toothache, and was taken to the dentist. He sat in tho chair, opened his jaws, and with the exception of a low growl or two during the proceeding behaved so admirably that his owner treated him to a filet mignon when the operation was over. I can do that, too, only my growls aren't always so low. Speaking of dogs, a boy fit- a beach concession told me that after a. day in which ten thousand red dogs went out over the counter of his shop he went homo and dreamed of _ red sausages running about him all night. A pleasant variant from counting sheep. But when you split, toasted buns for hungry sun-tan friends all day you're not' bothered with insomnia. Ina Claire is giving movie ladies something to think about by wholeheartedly adopting the long skirt. Even the most informal of her sports frocks aro several inches below the knee, and her evening gowns are ankle-length in front and often have a considerable train. Mrs. -T«ck Gilbert, as she likes to be called an the village, confers short skirts ungraceful. Since the average movio lady is never so happy as when showing a. knee-cap, this dictum of the fair New Yorker is a very grave matter. Ina Claire Gilbert recently appeared at a village party in a long, slim sheath of gold gauze, completely frosted with tiny gold beads. With her skin tanned a warm amber, and her fair hair, she looked like a golden lily. The gown swept tho floor in back and was slightly shorter in front. It had grace and dignity—but so has the lady who wore it. Mae Murray strolls down the boulevard e looking exceeding well after her vaudeville dancing tour. A broad brimmed picture, hat pulled down to her eyes, a. white crepe sports suit, and a brilliant, scarlet scarf aro included. The bee-stung lip is still provocative, and when Mae Murray chooses, words can fly forth. Not so lo'tig ago'in the East she told the assembled critics a thing or two. It seems her dancing is as supple as of yore, and her talent for collecting fat sums is still in working order. She is making a talkie —for a consideration. And Mae's considerations are never trifling. More power to her! She belongs to tho old guard who keep romance and colour and adventure in celluloid. Out here where songs are reeled off by tho yard and stories by the thousand feet of celluloid, much attention is paid the retort discourteous. In fact the flip answer is king of Hollywood to-day. The rivalry is chiefly among writing notables —cinemaites just don't register that way. Rupert Hughes gets his week's prize. He has recently been travelling about

with a crutch, by reason of a broken ankle. He told the story of just where and when and how over and over again. But the other day at luncheon, a lady dashed up to the table with: "Oh, Mr. Hughes, I hear you broke your ankle; just how did you break your ankle, Mr. Hughes?" To which Mr. Hughes, with the outmost gravity, replied: "Madame, I broke it with my bare hands." Mrs. Rupert Hughes is one of the most attractive women in the village. A distinct departure from movie type, she is tall and pale, with wine brown eyes and lovely reel hair. Her portrait, painted by Leon Gordon, was one of the high spots of tbc winter exhibitions here. In the same collection were Peggv "Wood, Gloria Swanson, Winifred Sheehan, Joseph Kennedy, Claire Windsor, Marion Davies and Colleen Moore. But the artist put some ineffable quality into the portrait of the slim, red-haired beauty in a white * Wk, ounded by the vital greens urij r, r>cir*r lendrcape.

Just to show how sophisticated we are out here in this haunt of authors, piano thumpers and actors and actresses, Ave sell —ou our main street—large lollipops on wooden sticks with sugar angels reclining in a bower of highly - coloured candied leaves. A sugar motto, "Make Whoopee in Hollywood," is the final delicate touch.

Now that all the tarradiddles about talkies are being told there's going to be a lot. of disillusionment coming to those naive souls who would "rather be fooled." In the davs when such miracles ot the old silent films as the parting of the Red Sea in the "Ten Commandments were explained a loud cry of protest t\ ent up from this group. _ _ u "Let us enjoy our movies in pea«s was their plea.. "We don't want to know how the wheels go round." But to-day the sophisticates have the floor, and the demand to know the inside dope is persistent. In the event there is anyone left who doesn't know that the Red : Sea was a cake of gelatine which was slowly cracked across and broken up while water was sent flowing over it —I want to hurry and clear up all the illusions. The scene was tremendously magnified, and double negative supplied the Israelites. Faking ihe talkies is not so easy. That silent slight of camera was child's play. This charlatanry approaches genuine art. "Dubbing" a* talking picture is the height of perfection. Six or seven sound films are "dubbed" together so that no sound overlaps or obliterates the other. And Millard Webb is the man who knows more about that, phase of the audible picture than anyone else in the business. The colony rumours an engagement between Greta Garbo and Nils Asther. If it isn't an engagement at least, it's the newest romance, for the two are seen everywhere together. Garbo, a weary Swedish lady with large feet, which seem to be continually in need of being taken out of Prenclihealed slippers and put into good comfy flat-heeled shoes, is the most intriguing person in cinema circles. People complain that she isn't chic a way from the camera-, that her c-lothes often look as if they were made at home and in a great hurry. They opine that Grew doesn't fulfill the traditions of splendour

established by Tola Negri, and carried on by jGloria Swanson. But just say "Greta Garbo" and they are all .cars and eyes. Greta Garbo has two powerful weapons: A total indifference to Hollywood as a colony, to what it thinks and feels —and a great acting art which includes an instinctive knowledge of tempo that cannot bo directed out of her by those who know less than she. She a.lso has some weird magnetism that comes to the audience l'ulltide regardless of the vehicle in which she is cast. It, is not. the outsidc-in whoopee which makes the Clara. Bows of I'll inland such synthetic lempcramentals. It, comes from the inside out. Greta Garbo has light—the one quality which neither bad stories nor stupid direction can kill.

The movies liave found a new playplace. far from the, madding crowd. 11. is Lake Arrowhead in the- San Bernadino Mountains, three-hour trip from the colony. Because of its mountainous road and simple though expensive charm it is little taken to by hoi polloi. . The. bourgeoisie of the hitch-hikers ' isn't welcome at Arrowhead Lake. And tho lovely homes hidden from one another by the curves of the lake shoi e and forests of mighty pines olTer true mountain seclusion to those notables who stand while the populace gapes. Here where the wild lupin sweeps toward jiulo green water in a scarf of blue-lavender bloom, Dr. Ludwig Berger, of Berlin, one of the most brilliant men in the art of picture-making, builds up the story he will direct next month for one of the leading studios. Dr. Berger is a musician in his own

right—a composer as well r,s a director, and one of the most cultured members oi the film colony. Yilma Banky and Rod La Rooque have bought one of the most beautiful lake sites, and are planning a mountain home. And Ronald Column is turning admiring eyes lakeward. The key secret, to all this is the. aquaplane service from movieland which takes the colonisers to the tall pines in thirty-five minutes. -And, once there all you need is a power boat. The Hollywood colony, at week-ends, now stretches from Malibu on the south to Arrowhead on the north. Wallace Beery hops into his "plane and is off to Silver Lake the moment- the studio pates close on him. Such speed and indifference to distance make us mere mortals very humdrum creatures, when all is said and done.