GHOST STORIES.

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 21, 25 January 1930, Page 5 (Supplement)

GHOST STORIES.

FILMDOM'S RUINS, HOLLYWOOD MEMORIES. OLD NAMES RECALLED. i No. 11. "' • Across from Bennett's is one of the heartbreak studios of the industry. It is the down-at-the-heels, but still picturesque place ' where productions were made at different periods by Selig, Garson and Marshall Neilan.' With its Spanish architecture, ivy clad walls and graceful palms, no other, studio could equal it for charm. There is a swimming pool and pretty dressing room bungalows. Between this studio and the historic lot adjoining the present Selig Zoo was made' "The Adventures of Kathlyn," the'serial that made Kathlyn Williams famous. It was a picture, too, that introduced many new elements into the business. Stock shots of elephants in • their native Indian haunts were matched on to the film, and everybody in the industry wondered how Colonel Selig had done it. Even in those days sets,were built in perspective, giving the effect of distance. The town, was agog two years ago when Murnau built in perspective. The idea came into use long before the time of the German director. Raymond Cannon, now a Fox director, played 20 different parts in "The Adventures of Kathlyn." Frank Grandon, who directed, died very recently. While shooting was still in progress on the later episodes of "Kathlyn," Colonel Selig began production on "The Spoilers," a feature which was to make a great fortune. The high point of "The Spoilers," : of course, was ' the famous fight between Thomas Santschi and William Farnum. ■ Before,, screen fights had been faked, but there was no fake about this "one? Before the battle was over Santschi and Farnum were both so fighting mad that they forgot the camera. Bessie Eyton, then gloriously beautiful, with her vivid red hair, was the heroine. Rivalry developed between Bessie Eyton and Kathlyn Williams. They strove for the best assignments. Strange it was, for Bessie was then the wife of Charles Eyton. Now Kathlyn Williams is his wife. Kathlyn Williams made a brief comeback in "Our Dancing Daughters." When Garson took over the studio he was trying heroically to keep Clara Kimball Young on the ladder of fame. She wrj putting on weight at an alarming

pace, and Garson used to watch her diet with anxious eyes.

This same studio brought financial disaster to Marshall Neilan. He purchased it for 300,000 dollars. Blanche Sweet, his wife, invested 50,000 dollars. Today it couldn't be sold for a third of that. He made three pictures there, none.too successful. "Diplomacy" was the last picture Blanche Sweet ever made in America. The old Metro studio stands on its narrow, quiet street—the graveyard of dreams. One day a beehive of activity— the next deserted never to be used again. There are some people who say that it is haunted. Certainly a trail of disaster followed those who worked there, and most certainly it looks as if it might

well be haunted. Windows hoarded up, doors barred, cracked paint, and hovering over it all the damp, all-pervading smell of must. Yet, once, Metro was most imposing and'romantic. There was a day when the colonial pillars were glistening white. Through the studio gates, barred by a rusted iron rope, rod© the most glamorous stars ever seen. . It was here that Rex Ingram made "The Four Horsemen," and in it appeared the greatest lover the screen has ever known or ever will know, Rudolph Valentino, a happy boy with sparkling, dark eyes. June Mathis, one of the greatest of scenarists, .had her offices in a front wing. A crumbling ruin of "The Four Horsemen" set still stands. In the same studio was made "The Prisoner of Zenda." Two new people were seen in that, too —Barbara La Marr and Ramon Novarro. Ramon kept a piano in his dressing room and would practise his singing and dancing between scenes. Now Barbara is dead. Ramon, of all those Metro stars,. is the only one to retain his place in after years. Big, blond Harold Lockwood and his lovely co-star, May Allison, worked here. Influenza brought a. quick last curtain to his career. May Allison married, retired from the screen and became a successful author. Nazimova worked behind her walledin sets, at the height of her career, exotic and haughty. Alice Lake was a vivid star in those days. She is in Hollywood ndw to stage a comeback; and Bert Lytell, the most popular male star on the Metro programme. Bert occasionally makes a picture now. He is an unqualified success in a current Broadway drama. Alice Terry, the. then fragile heroine of "The Four Horsemen" and "The Prisoner of Zenda," lives abroad with her husband, Rex Ingram. Just inside the studio' walls was a tiny Japenese garden, with a brook and diminutive arched v bridge. Viola Dana used to stand on this, bridge and wave a gay greeting to Omar Locklear, her fiance, as he 'soared above in his aeroplane. He went up in his 'plane one day and something went wrong. Viola never waved to him again. All part of brilliant old Metro. No wonder people say that it is haunted. Over it hang shadows, the shadows of "The Four Horsemen." Near the much grander Metro was the friendly little place where Buster Keaton made many of his most successful comedies. It was informal and rowdy, overrun by gag men and numerous visiting friends. Inceville! In those days it was romantic, a kaleidoscope of colour and action. The Pacific and the mountains were its

boundaries. One structure still stands to-day of the many that used to clamber up the hillside. It is a little weather-beaten church, built for the wedding in "Peggy." The star was Billie Burke, and it was a great event when the red-headed actress, the toast of Broadway, came way out to Inceville! Robert Brunton was the designer of the church, long before he built the Br inton studios. Now he. is dead and the church is his monument. It was in this isolated location that Thomas Ince built his careu-, before he erected the beautiful studio in Culver City. Ince had always dreamed of having a studio just like it. He built it>— and died. Dorothy Dalton became famous in "The Flame of the Yukon," mada here, and Lou'se Glaum waved her peacock fans and lured men on to destruction (for the cinema only). A bashful boy named Charles Ray came to attention in a Frank Keenan picture, "The Coward." William S. Hart, the twogun man, strode through the western streets. Bessie Barriscale was the big star. Now all that is left of Inceville is the "Peggy" church and the old film vault. The old ranch is now a smart real estate development, with fine Mediterranean houses replacing the sets. Most of the stars of that studio have disappeared. Only John Gilbert, the most dubious possibility of that time, is a reigning star. Before Louis B. Mayer joined MetroGoldwyn he produced in his own studios on the east side of Los Angeles, and adjoining the Selig Zoo. This small but pressive Norman-French building is deserted now. Things were enlivened at the Mayer Studio when the animals broke loose at the zoo. Anita Stewart, highly paid, was the greatest star of the lot. Norma Shearer had her first real acting opportunities on this lot, and, occasionally, Barbara La Marr worked as an extra. Charles Ray's studio has been transformed into a scenery factory. The big ship mast that was' visible to all motorists on Sunset Boulevard has been dismantled. For years it stood as a mute reminder of Charlie's failure. In this studio he made "The Courtship of Miles Standish." He placed his entire fortune on the venture and lost. Old Tannhauser, built on the crest of a steep hill in Boyle Heights, now as far removed from the picture world as Hollywood from Mount Ararat, is also a scenic stuflio for the Fancnon and .-Marco obage seta.