HOLLYWOOD IN PERSON.

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 229, 27 September 1930, Page 5 (Supplement)

HOLLYWOOD IN PERSON.

GOSSIP OF THE STUDIOS. (By MOLLIS MERRICK.) HOLLYWOOD (Gal;), September 1. There is nothing so elastic as a Hollywood age. When John Bowers got into a little fracas with the village police, he gave his age as 19 years. A little later, he coyly admitted to 24. Then the boys with tho blue uniforms discovered that Bowers was once leading man to Mabel Normand. So they promoted him well into the thirties and called it a day. John Bowers' wife, Marguerite de la Motte, was leading lady for Douglas Fairbanks in his original "Three Musketeers." She was "revived" to play the role in the musketeer sequel, which gave to the public a first idea of the Fairbanks'voice. There seemed to be a resurgence of village spirit last week. Something of the old Hollywood came to life. A lady became so full of enthusiasm that she Godivaed through our tree-lined ways one warm evening. And the Bowers family did a little light target shooting following a party, choosing such marks as came handy. At a luncheon of famous Hollywood ladies which I recently attended, ages were dropped casually for all who wished to hear. One veteran of the silent screen, who trooped it merrily through the pioneer days of stars, coyly spoke of her "thirtytwo" years with a pretty little sigh. It was the signal for the rest of her competitors to lay the foundations for age alibis, all so carefully gauged as to land them well under the 35 mark. Several of them were stars when I was a kidlet. And when one begins to compute how long it takes to pack in several years of journalistic experience, a bit of European jaunting and a few Hollywood seasons to one's credit, you'd need a Ohinese bead counter to make it all come out right and ensure you the dignity of voting age at all. But the technique of the thing in Hollywood is to maintain a politely appreciative countenance and smile sweetly when you are included in tho "girls, of our age" line.

The-talk of disappearing stars is not such an. idle one. One lot which includes 29 featured players on its contract list, names but three stars. These are the team of Amos N' Andy, .Bebe Daniels and Eichard Dix. Even contract players are featured less than they once were. On the other hand the death of musical shows having been predicted frequently, and on very good ground in many cases, a search of the contract list of t'he Warners reveals the fact that the cream of the music composition world seems to be listed among their studio personnel. Rogers and Hart are the most recent of these to arrive in the village. Jerome Kern has come on the heels of the death of music in talkies. If you like a tune in your talkies don't give up hope. These lads ■ will do more than appreciate the climate during their stay. Jean Harlow, a beauty with greengold hair, celebrates her triumph in pictures with a stiit for divorce. You're really not a star until you've shipped a husband. This siren, who is being sold on the strength of maximum sex appeal, says her particular lad bounced a bottle off her green-gold hair when things grew dull in their vicinity. He waxed a bit incoherent at parties, too, says Jean Harlow. All because of that identical bottle, which he used as

a weapon when empty, but to which he clung fondly when full, according to his young wife. Miss Harlow wants a 17,000-dollar house in Beverly Hills and the ownership of a motor car, which at present is in dispute. She came into prominence as the leading lady of "Hell's Angels." Much surprise attended her securing of this role. Greta Nissen had played the part in silent film, but when talkies came into vogue and dialogue was necessary, Jean Harlow was the nearest approximation to the Nissen type which could be found. She wore the extreme of decolletage in this picture. If the audience didn't get a thrill out of her acting they did out of her sartorial bravado. On the strength of it she established a name for magnetism. Such roles as she will fill in the future will have "itness," for the colony peddles its wares that-a-way. It's silly week in the hamlet. Lady Godivas and target-shooters have given way to Paul Reveres. Will Carlton, a lad who plies the sober trade of playwriting, ran amuck early this morning and took to ringing doorbells. Up and down the streets he went telling surprised householders, who stood shocked and shivering in their pyjamas,' that "the British are coming.". Caught by the police, he bashfully admitted that he was Paul Revere and therefore only doing what was expected of him. Greta Garbo strolls about a lot in duck sailor trousers these days. As her rivals become more and more feminine with ankle-length frocks the Norse mystery goes to the other extreme. Taffeta-hung dressing rooms are wheeled on to the sets for such fragils beauties at Norma Shearer, Ma.rion Davies and others. The Garbo ordered four "wild" walls to be hooked together. These are four loose scenery bits fastened together in such a way that they may bo dissembled at a moment's notice. Her severe bathrobes, her unrelenting use of a navy blue beret, her adherence to the roughneck sweater and tailored skirt of flannel, her simple belted tweed coats and mannish felt hats are characteristic of her working hours. When evening comes, her rare .appearances are marked by the luxury of a mink cape and small turbans of black or darkest brown satin, which are wound around her head and knotted at the side. Her evening frocks are simple. Often i

in need of a pressing. Never characteristic of a recent mode, but always revealing some individual taste. Pew members of the professional group may say she is their friend. She is the enigma of moviedorn—and because of these things, as much as through her acting genius, she is the most glamorous name in Hollywood to-day Jimmie Gleasou can now speak with authority about the bee's knees. He has built a series of glass hives and, microscope in hand, may be seen studying the little insects who so intrigued Maeterlinck by the hour. Jimmie Gleason says the most outstanding thing he has so far observed is the policing system in the hive. They time-clock new arrivals with the. assiduousness of a. movie supervisor. Our hostelries are doing well, but our local prisons are really becoming a list of who's who iu the colony. Some of our best names are finding their way to the books, H. H. Van Loan, author and playwright, being on this morning's register. H. H. Van, Loan is the fiance of Marjorie llambeau, but Gertrude Van Loan, tlio wife whom he sued for divorce on May 20 last, had him taken from his snug quarters in our most luxurious hotel, and safely tucked away in gaol on the charge of child desertion.

— o —11 —-X The Van Loan divorce complaint was filed by the author on the fourteenth wedding anniversary of the couple. He sees in this action a preliminary move to a cross complaint 011 his wife's part, so says he will not light extradition. The Van Loan-Rambeau romance had received wide publicity since it flowered at the moment when the girl who was the toast of Broadway a few seasons ago, had seemed to have reached her Nadir of hard luck. Ventures in stock had not turned out as satisfactorily as they might. The movies did not seem to have a place foi Marjorie Rambeau. Broadway had turned its shoulder on her. The face whose divine rhythm had launched more lyricisms than any other countenance along the Great White Way, took on the hopeless look of the beaten. Then in Hollywood came the romance with Van Loan and the couple's announcement of their intent to wed as soon as Van Loan's divorce could be obtained. To-day's difficulty is just the first snag in the new smooth-sailing 1 .

Oscar Hammerstein and Sigmund Romberg are-faithful to the legitimate when casting about for, their leading ladies. Last season they chose Vivienne Segal for their operetta made in Hollywood. Now they kill the budding hopes of einemaites who sing by their announcement that Margaret Schilling, a stage and radio star who appeared in their show "My Maryland," will be their lead in a forthcoming production. Long stage experience and a radio triumph are included in Margaret Schilling's background. But she had not been to Hollywood until its rocflco wonders flashed uppn her dazzled eyes yesterday. She has beauty galore, and personality. Her voice has proven itself with the public and over the microphone. So the bets are that she will go over big. A new time-saver in motion picture production is the painting-of shadows, on walls and floor and furniture instead of actually creating shadows by, means of intense light. 0 Harvey Myers, a specialist in this typo of work has just shadowed some forty sets for Roland West's new production. They are for the most part put on with a spray, and in scenes calling for a milieu of mystery, they are particularly effective. If you ever stood on a movie set waiting for the camera men to get flights and cameras ready for the sets, you'd realise what a time saver and an energy conserver the new move is. Reginald Denny and Fifi D'Orsay are one of the new teams to be created for "Those Three French Girls," a new production soon to go into the making. Fifi D'Orsay is a child of the boulevards. She puts the forbidden touch, into songs, in a way that gets them past the Hays office. And she—oh well, that's enough to say about anyone. It gives you a faint idea of her talents. Some of the most interesting gelatine planned for the coming season does not include musical numbers. One reason for that is the dawning consciousness on the part of producers that every story doesn't need a song to get it over. In fact, some of the pictures would have gotten over far better had the songs- so painfully introduced at , awkward moments been left out.

George Arliss will make Ferenc Molnar's play "The Devil." ' Here will be a substantial fare for those who care for the drama at its beet. Perhaps more than any player Arliss has, through his standing and standards, elevated the art of the talkie. "The Devil" will follow the completion of "Old English." The mere suggestion that such a play would find its way into cinema ranks would have provoked loud derisive laughter two years ago. "Ex-Mistress" is another novel which will be picturised. And "Jack Daw's Strut," Harriet Henry's much talked of book, will find its way into talkie ranks without a theme , song to test the audience's endurance. Ina Claire appearing at a local theatre intrigues many of the village producers to attendance. They still want,to know why "Ina didn't go over in. movie 6." Ina Claire herself will tell you one reason is that she wore Paris gowns, full half a year ahead of the current mode, spoke with a Park Avenue inflection and played the role of a lady, who .loved much, but made light of her own sentiment. The moviq audience, says Ina, is

not inclined to have sympathy with a lady who loves but speaks wittily of her own passion. Ina Claire has changed her type in the last six months. Her blonde hair is now almost shoulder length, a la garbo. It makes a far different effect from the soignee coiffure that Ina Claire first wore on the gold coast. Most people who live here long enough, get tanned, shed their hosiery and infuse a few Holly wooden touches into their vocabulary. It's part of getting acclimatised. Watching Mack Sennctt directing Andy Clyde reminds me of the story of that comedian's beginning. Roy Del Ruth was making short subjects and Andy Clyde, the irrepressible, was always at his heels. "Where you going to shoot to-morrow, Roy?" Andy would ask

innocently. Del Ruth would name the spot. When his cameras would begin to turn there would ,he Andy Clyde walking through the picture in the makeup of an old fisherman. In about ten minutes he would be back for another shot garbed as an ancient hag. Back again as a lad just in from the country. Sometimes he would play all of- ten or fifteen characters during a morning's work in the open. It intrigued Del Ruth so much that he began to seek him out for his characterisations. Then one day he was to make a test for Mack Sennett. This producer has a trick of making film tests of people in off moments. Lets make that test now," said Sennett to Andy Clvde. "But I need a shave," protested Clyde. "Who cares," laughed Mack Sennett,."get before the cameras." •The result was the character of Pop Martin, one of the funniest ever to be given the public. A little man with a trcmelo in his voice, a stubble on his cheeks, a veritable fury of futility. Pop Martin can put more wrath into the killing' of a mosquito than Jack Barrymore puts into a tragedy.