ONE ILLUSION INTACT.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17246, 12 January 1924, Page 20

ONE ILLUSION INTACT.

LILLIAN GISH IN REAL LIFE.

(By Helen ELI urn ph in “ Picture Play Magazine.”) Until I met Lillian Gish I used to define interviewing as ” the process of shattering illusions.” Not that I was always disappointed in the people I interviewed—l was just surprised. There was an exotic screen siren for instance, who when bereft of the beads of her calling proved to be a dumpy little woman interested in child welfare. There was a childish ingenue in whose apartments there were as many mysterious door slammings as in any French farce. And, drifting from the field of movies, there was an admiral of a foreign fleet who could have doubled for Ben Turpin. But Lillian is always flowerlike, fragile and as haunting as the melody of “ Salut d’Amour.” In life she has that same gripping tenderness that she has on the screen. The bridge of sympathy that is established with her audience the instant she comes on the screen holds you likewise in real ITTe. Her screen portravals are all sharply etched, highly individual characterisations. but there is the same spirituality, the same illusion about all of them.

And that steadfast illusion, that overtone, is Lillian’s own personality. After she made “Way Down East” she could have signed contracts with any one of several companies at a huge salary. But the prospect of being made to suffer and suffer and suffer through vehicles as alike as though they had been made from rubber stamps did not appeal to her. She waited until she was offered a company over whoso activities she would have control. She knows a great deal about making pictures—you may recall that- she directed Dorothy in a comedy a few years ago—and about cutting them. Curiously enough, this extraordinary technical knowledge Ims not made her critical of other people’s efforts She is the perfect audience. Knowing how much hard work goes into the making of even a poor picture, she is sympathetic. Except for the people who have played in her pictures very few players know Lillian Gish. Mary Pickford is her one intimate friend. With every one else she is interested, but a tribe aloof. She is often called the Bernhardt of the screen. In an industry that recklesslv manufactures slogans and catch phrases and advertises quite commonplace performers as “The Girl You Can’t Forget ” or “The Empress of Fiery Emotions” that title wouldn’t mean much if it weren’t for the fact that it was not bestowed by an advertising man but lithe very people who would be the las-' to admit any artistry in the work a motion-picture actress. That is the unique phase of Lillian’* career. She Ims won the highest praiV from peonle who were supercilious toward motion pictures and at the samtime endeared herself to motion-pictur kna. Of the two publics T am sur ‘hat she really loves the fans mos* '°r thev are the ones who support l ' ‘ her during the struggling years whe

she was just laying the foundations of her career. It was they whose letters, childish ones sometimes, cheered her on to more effort in the days when she had to get up soon after dawn and go by street car, ferry and train to the location in New Jersey, where she was working. Whenever any one criticises the movies, the best way to down them is to mention Lillian Gish; years as a child trouper gave her her training; the plaudits of such people as John Barrymore and Ernst Lubitsch speak for her artiistrv. She is the Mrs Fiske and the Maude Adams of the screen world and is as little open to criticism as they are. At the opening of “The White Sister.” one of the most distinguished gatherings a New York theatre ever held, people looked in vain for the star of the picture. She was not in the Front box where the star of the occasion is usually to be found. She and Dorothy were at the back of the stage, ■sitting on an old trunk and trying to reassure each other that they were not in the least nervous. Those who witnessed the private screening of “Hie Covered Waggon” ut Greater Crystal Palace, and their numbers well nigh filled the spacxoue. houseshoe of the dress circle, showed by their hearty and spontaneous applause at “The End” their thorough appreciation of a picture that is lull of interest and commands close attention As a picture alono it is a big thing, but apart from the actual events de Dieted on the silver sheet there is a sentiment which is difficult to explain n words. One’s imagination focuses on the heroism of those who so iear cssly braved the known and unknown hangers of prairie and desert, the cour go that overcame all the many diffi til ties encountered, the indomitable nirit of the leaders, the weakness, ei fish ness and jealousy of others. Tt ' a great document showing the bright nrl the sombre sides of human nature nd because of these things it is a pic •re that all should see. even though he actual storv—the earlv colonisation p the Far West nf the United States—'ay not have a direct appeal.