“MEN I HAVE VAMPED”

Greymouth Evening Star, 22 March 1935, Page 3

“MEN I HAVE VAMPED”

THE DIFFICULT ENGLISHMEN. I didn’t set out to bo a “vamp,” and, although I have played “straight” parts on the stage and screen, I must confess that some of my most amusing film experiences have been when I have had to “vamp” famous male stars (confesses Leonora Corbett, the British film and stage actress). “Englishmen are the most difficult in the World to vamp/’ Pola Negri, the famous “vamp” of the silent films, Once said. I remembered this when the Ih'itish film studious began to cast me in “vamp” roles. I don’t know in which way Pola Negri meant that my countrymen were “difficult,” but I must admit that I, too, have found some of them “difficult” to “vamp,” although probably for very different reasons. All my victims have, however, been charming, and it Was great fun acting with them. For instance, I found Sonnie Hale difficult to vamp in “Wild Boy,” for the reason that he is so amusing that it is hard to suppress your laughter on the “set.” He certainly was just the sort of person we needed to cheer us us during the making of “Wild Boy." Although the scenario stated that the action took place in summer-time, the film was made during the coldest months of winter. In one scene we had to make love in front of an open Window through which the chilly blasts blew. When we came to “shoot” the sequence, you could see the steam of our breaths, which shows how cold it was. The camera-man thought that this made us look much too passionate. So we had to drink cold water to bring our breaths down to the temperature of the air—and, believe me, anything cold to drink was the last thing we wanted. Robertson Hare, of the Aldwych farces fame, is also a difficult man to “vamp,” although it so often falls to his lot to be led into awkward situations by attractive women —on the films. I had to “vamp” him in a park scefifi iif “Friday the Thirteenth.” I had to hold an umbrella in front of us. while he made love to me—and while, incidentally, I picked his pocket You could never guess what actually went on behind that umbrella. Robertson Hare kept me in fits of suppressed laughter the whole time with his quaint remarks and amusiiig stories, and I nearly choked trying tiot to laugh aloud. I cduldn’t put down the umbrella when the time came to do so, because I couldn't get my 1 fdee straight again. The whole production unit waited patiently, wondering when our faces would reappear. At last Victor Saville, the director, couldn’t stand It any longer. THINK OF THE CENSOR. “Hey," he shouted, “the censor’ll never pass this scene if you don’t buck up!” I think I must have broken a few recording valves with the sudden shriek of laughter which burst front me. “Vaffiplfig” a filafi who tries to make you laugh all the time is a trying business, I caff UssUife you. I had to make 10ve to Bfian Aherne in “The Cdfistant Nymph." I played the part of the woman he married. We went to the Austrian Tyrol to make the picture. One morning I received a pasfefbfiately worded postcard. The annonymous writer poured out his heartfelt love for me. and said shat he

would be outside my window that night. I laughed, and so did the other members of the cast. The next morning there was another card, saying similar passionate things; and, after that, I had a card every morning. I began to feel worried, and to wonder who on earth the writer was. Then I became a little nervous, especially as I had repeatedly been coming into contact with a terrible-look-ing old man who was among the "crowd” players in the picture. They were mostly district peasants. He IOOKed ghastly. His Hair was rough and straggly, and his eyes were wild. Wherever I went I seemed to come across him. Then Brian Aherne confessed that it was he who had been sending the cards, and my wild and woolly romance was shattered—thunk goodness. But there was still the terrifying old man. I was scared every every time I saw him. One evening we went into an inn in a neighbouring town. There was the man. He was no longer looking terrible. He was dressed neatly, his hair was parted properly, and his face looked normal. He laughed when he saw our surprised looks, and explained that he had merely been acting the part of a half-crazy mountain man. He thought that he would have a better chance of being selected as a type for crowd work if he adopted this “make-up” and kept it up. JACK HULBERT’S MISTAKE. The first “star” I appeared with on the screen was Jack Hulbert. I was chosen as his leading lady in “Love On Wheels.” Jack is marvellous to act with, and as this was my first film he went out of his way to give me all the assistance he could. I remember that we had a dancing act to do together. We rehearsed this for several davs. He was very worried lest I should fail to master the steps in time for the “shooting.” Every time he saw me he would ask whether I was sure I was all right.

“Perfectly,” I assured him. Then, on the day we filmed the scene, he was so concerned about me that he forgot his own steps once, and a little later slipped and sat down with a bump on the floor.

The latest picture I have made is "Lady In Danger’’—the new title for “Save the Queen’’—with Tom Walls. He is another difficult man to “vamp,” for he too, is a great joker, and you couldn’t possibly become all “vamplsh” with him. As a fact, I’m not very successful in “vamping" him in the picture. either. In one of the scenes he turns the tables ou me by locking me fu a bathroom, and walking off with my clothes. The funny part of it all. when “shooting” this scene, was that when I wanted the clothes afterward wo couldn’t find them anywhere. Tom had put them down somewhere—and had forgotten where. A large bathroom towel saved the situation.