HOLLYWOOD NOTES.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 237, 7 October 1933, Page 5 (Supplement)

HOLLYWOOD NOTES.

GOSSIP OF THE STUDIOS.

(By MOLLIE MERRICK.) !

HOLLYWOOD (Cal.), Sept. 2.

Dear readers, this week I am presenting a comedian in the somewhat different and bitter light of a philosopher — my public, El Brendel!

"Mollie' Merrick asks me to try my hand at being a columnist. I always thought a columnist was a person who waved a red flag and threw bombs, so you can imagine how good this is going to be. Someone suggested a ghost writer, but 1 know the way I murder this will haunt me enough without any ghost writer. Now, with this warning, it's your own fault if you read further. A lot has been written about what the stars think of Hollywood—nothing at all about what Hollywood thinks of the stars! I'll try to tell you:—

"Hollywood Boulevard speaking: 'They have walked up and down me for years, the great and the near great. When they had silent pictures they would walk along me and think to themselves. When talkies arrived they would walk along and talk to themselves. I wouldn't dare repeat what some of them said. I was the survival of the fittest, and lots of them had lits.'

"Malibu Beach speaking: 'I used to have lots of room to myself, but the stars built so many homes that I can hardly move. They built them so close together that when one actor talked in his sleep a man living seven houses away punched his wife in the nose. They love to play tennis. More tennis balls have bounced back from me than all the rubber cheques that have bounced back from our local banks. I don't mind, for, after all, I have my moments. I often see the actresses in bathing. Some are only one good meal for a moth, so who am I to complain?'

"The Brown Derby restaurant speaking: 'I have fed thousands of movie stars. Here is where the spots go on the vest and the bill on the culF. Here is where they sit in booths together and run a kitchen all their own. They roast the producers, pan the actors. Many a stew comes from there. Here is where tourists line up at the entrance for autographs. One star couldn't sign his name with a tourist's fountain pen, so they got him a pencil. Then they discovered ho couldn't sign his name at all.'

"Agua Caliente speaking: 'I am just across the border in Mexico, 125 miles from Hollywood. I am a jolly host. You can drink and gamble all you wish. The stars come here to play and work hard doing it. I have horse racing here, and you can get a run for your money, although some horses don't know it. One star bet all he had on a horse one rainy day. It was a cinch to win—they told him :it was a mud horse. He was—all the other horses threw mud in his face all the way around the tract. You can take all the liquor you like over the border—in your stomach—not in bottles. The trick is to feel as good when you get buck to Hollywood as you did when you left it.'

"Hollywood Stadium speaking: 'I am the "big shot" one night a week— Friday. That is Hollywood's night. All the stars visit 1110 then. The married use me as an alibi to get away from the straight and narrow, also the straight and broad—some of the wives arc stout. One man used me to get away from his wife. "Where have you been?" she asked. "To the fights," said he. "Why, the fights were over hours ago; I heard it all on the radio. There were lots and lots of knockouts." "Don't I know," said the clever sipouse. "I was sitting up with the guys who were knocked out."'

"Hollywood Moon speaking: 'I look beyond my stars to those other, littler stare that think themselves so big. I know their orbits—their rise and "their declension. I know before they do when they are going to lie dark stars. I begin when they become evening stars and their careers are nearly 11111 when they get to be morning stars. They come and go, twinkle a while and die. I can't let even a cloud drift across my face, because I have my work to do,"and it's all in the pattern of ironic Fate.' "

A princess who has a realm as large as France, and jewels that rival the ones Aladdin found 011 the trees of the magical garden, and elephants, an army of them, about her historic Indian palace—a princess 22 years old, and her prince, a lad of 24, whose one dream of happiness is to see moving pictures in the making.

Strange as it may seem, that is what the Naliab Zalieeruddin Khan and jiis Begum wanted more than anything :n the world;- so they came to Hollywood just to grant the wish. The Lord of Hyderabad, the Deccan, had his proudest moment when he talked with Mae West: and his princess couldn't take her eyes otF Ernst Lubitsch because she considers him the greatest artist in motion-picture making to-day.

A slim little figure whose white silk garment tightened about her head like a hood, and made a tube for her curveless body, the princess wore two startling jewels—a ruby of fabulous size and perfect colouring, and a yellow diamond that —well, words fail me!

When asked what she would like to see done with pictures, the princess promptly answered: "I would like to see Ernst Lubitsch make an epic of India, because there has never been a satisfactory picture of my country made." Mae West, at this juncture, offered her services. "Madame," beamed the prince, "my people Mould give you a thousand elephants." "In India we would equip him with what resembles a boudoir—" "Gracious," murmured La West, "you must come up sometime —" "Seriously," said the prince, "I would like' to see -• Ernst Lubitsch take Marlene Dietrich and Ramon Novarro to India and make a picture that would explain our life. They would have to stay at least six months to understand the people. I would be pleased to house the entire company at my expense, and also furnish any other needs." It began to sound like the days of movie-making in its beginnings, when Cecil B. de Mille furnished Geraldine Farrar with transportation and living expenses, plus salary, to have her make a a picture, and then found out. that a huge champagne bill was included in the living expenses. Before anyone had time to go into the Hyderabad champagne problem., the prince said: "Our theatres in the Decca.n are as large and elaborate as your big city playhouses. There is no division in the audience—you sit ; n the seat, you pay for, and it generally costs a rupee, about fifty cents." Outside the theatre, it seems, you go right back into the caste system, or your private car, or your palace, or your jewel vaults.