Scanned from the collections of The Library of Congress Packard Campus for Audio Visual Conservation www.loc.gov/avconservation Motion Picture and Television Reading Room www.loc.gov/rr/mopic Recorded Sound Reference Center www . I oc. g ov/rr/reco rd If 'arling. . . Darling ...we'll be so elegant tonight! That heavenly plant Dad gave us, and our handsome new silverware gleaming and shim- mering all over our table!" Ever since you were a tyke, you've heard about Oneida and 1881 # Rogers Cg? . The patterns they're crafting today show the distinction you'd ex- pect of these silverwise old names. And your set's wear- areas are heavily reinforced with solid silver. The more you use it, the lovelier it will get! Start now to give your luxury-loving soul 3-times- a-day pleasure! Ask about an easy-payment plan for the pat- terns below — also Surf Club* (not shown) . 5-piece place setting, $4.50. Complete ser- vices for 8 from $39.75. Shown below: a really com- plete 64-piece service. Cabinet Chest included. 16 teaspoons, 8 soup spoons, 8 hollow-handle knives, 8 forks, 8 salad forks, 8 butter spreaders, 2 table- spoons, 1 butter knife, 1 sugar spoon, 1 cold meat fork, 1 gravy ladle, 2-piece steak set. $59.75. No federal tax. 1881 W ROGERS S I LV E R PLATE ONEIDA LTD. SILVERSMITHS Trada Mark. Copyright, 1948. Oneida, Ltd. *'Guntist$ sag 4> IPANA W«j uwfcs J* Junior Model Joan Murray shows how it can work for you, too Sitting pretty is dateable Joan Murray, radiant 17-year-old model of Harrison, N. Y. This popular lass has a smile that wins her top honors— modeling or dating! Of course, Joan follows the Ipana way to healthier gums and brighter teeth . . . because dentists say it works! Her professionally approved Ipana dental care can work for you, too— like this "The Ipana way is easy— and fun," Joan tells friend Peggy. Dentists say it works . . . and it's simple as 1, 2: 1 . 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First nighters ot the Ice Follies of 1949 in Hollywood's Pan Pacific Auditorium were Shirley and John Agar. The Agars celebrated their third wedding anniversary in September. til *s fused to grant another chance to a man who says he is sorry?" "M. S. L.," of Atlanta, believes: "Hollywood must not be judged by this one case or any single happening. I heard your plea on the radio the other night asking that the many not be smeared with the few. I get my great- est happiness out of going to the movies and so do most of my friends. This is why I am always so shocked when they rave and rant against Hollywood and its people every time a new 'case' comes up. All I can say is that I hope Hollywood is not put on trial along with Robert Mitchum." [Editor's Note: For a most revealing in- sight into Bob Mitchum's character and mind, see page 30.] • • • I stole a couple of days off the job and went down to Del Mar and La Jolla — to Del Mar to check up on the movie stars at the races and to La Jolla to catch Gregory Peck in The Male Animal in summer stock revival. After the show, I went backstage to see Greg and I couldn't have been more sur- prised at the lack of movie-star trappings in his dressing room. In fact, Greg, who gets every convenience he wants when he's at a Hollywood movie studio, shared a cubbyhole in the basement blocked off by curtains, with leaky pipes down the walls — and two mem- bers of the cast dressed with him. Most of the actors who appear in these summer stock shows love that sort of thing — getting right back to the greasepaint and the good old days of barnstorming. But such was far from the case when Jen- nifer Jones came to the La Jolla Playhouse for a ten day run in Serena Blandish. Wow! What swank! Jennifer's costumes were created in Holly- wood and two wardrobe women came along — plus her personal maid, hairdresser and secretary! The leaky-pipe "star" dressing room was completely out of the guestion, so an elaborately-appointed trailer was backed up to the stage door and served as her dressing quarters. Whether all this made a hit with the other summer stock troupers is a guestionable point. In any event, Jennifer sold out the house performance after performance. The fans went crazy over her and the show could have run a year. » • • Elizabeth Taylor grabbed football star Glenn Davis, and planted a big kiss square on his lips when the ex-West Pointer took off for service in the Orient. That youngster is really in love and she doesn't care who knows it. She wears Glenn's fraternity pin even on her evening gowns. They met when Davis came out to Los An- geles to train for his only professional foot- ball appearance with the L. A. Rams before taking off for Army duty. In fact, he stayed with the next-door-neighbors to the Taylors'. It was love at first sight. • • • Personal Opinions: The fact that her rela- tives, her father, mother and sister were constantly at the house may have had some- thing to do with the final break-up of Gloria Bing Bob Eddie Wo (PA say. 7te One Of The Funniest Pictures ever Made!" She teaches him his A B C's by drawing them on his chest . . . and he doesn't care if school never ends! Send this coupon, plus a dime, to cover handling charges, for your autographed picture of handsome John Lund, thrilling star of "A Foreign Affair!" Dept. 7. Paramount Pictures Inc , 1501 Brood- way, New VorJt '8. N. V t am enclosing lOi lor an autographed picture of John Lund Name— JOHN WHO WANDA HENDRIX BARRY FITZGERALD MONTY W30LLEY IB .LIPASE ROBERT STACK DOROTHY STICKNEY ELI2ABETH PATTERSON ftcdoced by CHARLES BRACKETT ftrwted by RICHARD HAYDN Screenplay toy Charlet Bracket! and Richard L Breen Suggested by o ploy by Jacques Deva) Pnduc BOYS Now you can have an auto- graphed picture of beautiful Wanda Hendrix, lovable star of "Ride The Pink Horse" and "Welcome Stranger!" Just send a dime, plus coupon. ■ Depf 7, Paramount Pictures Inc , 1501 Broad- way, New York 18, N. Y \ am enclosing lOi lor an autographed picture of Wanda H endnx. Advertisement * ★ ★ ★ * Don't be Half-safe! At the first blush of womanhood many mys- terious changes take place in your body. For instance, the apocrine glands under your arms begin to secrete daily a type of perspi- ration you have never known before. 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Get Arrid now at your favorite drug counter — only 39Y plus tax. ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ Mono Freeman and Pat Nerney at Gail Patrick's party for Florida's newly-elected governor, Fuller Warren. Back from their European honey- moon, the Bob Toppings dine out at the Colony Restaurant in N. Y. De Haven and John Payne. I know Gloria is upset over the parting, but I hope she doesn't continue to try to "forget" by dating with a new beau in a nightclub every evening. . . . The man with the most delightful manners in Hollywood is Herbert Marshall — and I mean just good old-fashioned courtesy. Some of the younger casual and indifferent males could get some good tips from Bart, who treats every woman he meets as if she were royalty. . . . If Judy Garland is successful in getting Roy Rogers for her hero in Annie Get Your Gun, I'll nominate that movie a year in advance as the biggest grosser of 1949. Imagine those two plus Irving Berlin's wonderful music! * * * The social season in Hollywood has reached a new high with more parties than I can remember in all the years I have been re- porting movie news. I suppose it's because so many important guests have been visiting the West Coast and hostesses have vied with one another in see- ing that they meet our Hollywood stars. Gail Patrick, looking like a dream girl in the gown she wore at her wedding to Corny Jackson, was hostess at a large cocktail party and buffet supper honoring Governor-elect Fuller Warren of Florida. The handsome Gov- ernor made a decided hit with the ladies, I can tell you. Greer Garson, so radiantly happy these days that the whole world knows it, sat be- tween the Governor and her best beau. Buddy Fogelson, the millionaire Texan who is now the one man in her life. But don't think for a minute that she had the exclusive attention of the guest of honor. He was most intrigued with Rosalind Russell, whose repartee was as witty and fast as his own. Rosalind looked beautiful in an ice- cream shade of pink and a small, perky hat. There were fully 300 guests at the party and it is impossible to mention them all. But I would like to say right here in print that one of the women most admired by the distinguished visitor from Florida was Mrs. Lorena Danker, the dark-eyed beauty — whose smiles, however, were given only to Louis B. Mayer, head man of M-G-M. That Danny Kaye is a one! He almost broke up the first formal party given in the beau- tiful new home of the William Goetzes by the darnedest gag of the season. He started asking everyone his or her middle name and then refused to call them by anything else! Do I rue the moment when I confided mine was "Rose"! He also got it out of Irene Dunne that hers is "Adelaide" 'and that Loretta Young's real name is "Gretchen." During dinner, he would come up with, "Gretchen, didn't you love Adelaide in / fle- membez Mama? I thought Rose, here, wrote just a peachy review." We fixed him when we found out his real name is "David." The Goetz home is easily one of the most beautiful in Southern California and it has been done in wonderful taste by William Haines. One of the things that makes it so outstanding is the beautiful collection of paint- ings— among them, a Van Gogh self-portrait. Bill and Eadie bought many of these works of art when we were all abroad this spring. Claudette Colbert, with her short hair-cut (it seems shorter every time I see her) sat at a table with the host and Joan Bennett. Joan is as loath to leave her children as anyone I know, but she has never been as reluctant to leave her own fireside as she has been since the arrival of her new daugh- ter, Shelley. I can't say I blame her, because Shelley Wanger is a beauty and a darling. Looking at Joan in her chocolate-colored din- ner gown and seeing how slim she is, you find it impossible to believe that she will be a grandmother next spring. She is only 38. Doesn't that make her just about the young- FAYBAINTER TOM TULLY BRETAIGNE WINDUST- HENRY BLANKE on a Play by Eileen Tighe and Graeme Lorimer 11 Look closely and you'll find that Crosby and Sinatra are the clowns with Shirley Johns. It's a circus benefit for the St. John's Hospital in Santa Monica. This event drew the largest collection of stars in years. $175,000 was raised with the aid of such gentlemen as Robin- son Crusoe (Gary Cooper) and Friday (Buster Keaton). est grandmother in the country? (One of the youngest, anyhow!) The Goetz party went on until almost dawn — and why not, with Johnny Green coming in late to play the piano until the wee small hours and Danny cutting up so superbly? How do these movie girls meet million- aires— not only meet 'em but marry 'em? Well, I suppose there is no set blueprint — but it is amusing the way pretty, blonde Jacqeline White met Bruce Anderson, wealthy oil man whom she is marrying in November: Even though she is an actress with a good RKO contract, Jackie is very much a home loving girl and still far more interested in her former college sorority meetings than she is in Hollywood cocktail parties. So, when she was recently invited to one — she found herself just on the outskirts of the group, a little on the bored side. Since everything was being served but water, she decided to wander out in the kitchen and get a glass for herself. There, much to her surprise, perched on the sink, drinking water, himself, and looking pretty well bored — was one of the most at- tractive men she had ever seen. "Hello, Beautiful, where did you come from?" he greeted. A few minutes later he asked if he could drive her home. The next night they had their first dinner date. Ten days later they were officially engaged! I guess it is easy if fate is on your side. Jacqueline hasn't yet said how her marriage will affect her career. But her friends wouldn't be surprised if she says goodbye to the movies when she becomes Mrs. Anderson. Mrs. Dolly Walker, Los Angeles socialite 12 who is not in the picture business, gave a delightful dinner honoring the Maharajah and Maharanee of Jaipur. I had previously met them in Paris last summer. They are very prominent in the international set and the attractive Maharajah is one of the wealthiest men in India. Speaking of the international set — don't be surprised if Dolly O'Brien one day soon be- comes Mrs. Clark Gable. Possibly by the time this is in print there will be some definite news, because Clark was right at the boat to greet Dolly when she returned from Europe. (Editor's Note: — For a somewhat different prediction, see page 54.) Another marriage scheduled to take place before another year is out is that of George Sanders and Sari Gabor Hilton. You may remember a few years ago this romance was hot and heavy — then it sud- denly broke off. George went to Europe, leaving behind the red-headed Sari, who was madly in love with him. At the time George said he wouldn't even discuss marrying again until his wife, from whom he was just recently divorced, was in better health. Whatever else might be said about George and his haughty attitude, it must be stated that he was devoted to his wife and wanted to do nothing to upset her until she was feel- ing better. Now she has said that she no longer wants to see him anymore — so there was nothing to block the announcement of his engagement to Sari who is, of course, a very, very happy girl these days. It has been a month of shocking happen- ings in Hollywood. First, Robert Mitchum. Then Rita Johnson's mysterious accident. The police are now convinced that the blow on the head that brought on the long, dan- gerous coma with the blonde actress's life hanging in the balance, was caused by a hair-dryer. Apparently, the machine slipped while Rita was under it after shampooing her hair at home. But, for days, this had all the makings of a Hollywood "detective story." Tips came to my desk by the dozens — all false. I'm afraid too many amateur detectives were writing their own solutions. As I write this, the case is still a mystery. Rita is in the third week of the coma and her doctors do not hold out much hope. My deepest sympathy goes to her mother and brother, who are barely able to bear up under this tragedy I am sure I do not have to go into detail about the marvelous job Hollywood did put- ting on the big benefit for St. John's Hospital the opening night of the Ringling Brothers- Barnum and Bailey Circus. I saw Modern Screen's cameraman snapping pictures of all the wonderful acts — and the event has been much publicized. In these days, when many darts and criti- cisms are being leveled at Hollywood and its people, I want to ask you all to remember the many fine, good things that come out of movietown and not the occasional — the very rare — disgraces. There is not one single big star in this in- dustry who did not pitch in and do everything possible to help the circus benefit become the sensational success it was. There is never a time when Hollywood does not respond to a worthwhile cause. That is the thought I would like to leave you with this month. The great things that Hollywood does far overshadow the few mis- takes of one or two personalities who happen to be identified with this industry. The End UNIVERSAL-INTERNATIONAL presents MARIA MEN VINCENT PRICE Outcasts from 100 lands... living for the thrill of cold steel - the pleasure of warm lips! She could bring out the worst in any man! «ith STEPHEN McNALLY- Carol Thurston • Edgar Barrier, screenplay by* robert buckner Original Story by ROBERT BUCKNER and ROBERT FLOREY - A ROBERT BUCKNER PRODUCTION • Directed by ROBERT FLOREY 13 the trials and errors of shelley winters by robbin coons days when /ed on doughnuts. Because of the remarkable impact on the public of her fresh and vital personality, because she has demonstrated first-rate professional ability in all her roles, the editors of modern screen consider that Shelley Winters clearly deserves to be honored as the Screen Discovery of the ■Year. She is, in our opinion, one of the most promising figures ever to arrive in Hollywood. ■ The little blonde gal sat before her mirror that day in a mood as blue as her clear young eyes. You or I would have called her "cute" or "pert" or "pixie." We might even have called her "pretty." But those blue eyes, appraising the mirrored reflection, returned another verdict. "Shelley Winters," the girl said to her image, "you are so ugly. . . . Lo6k, for three years Hollywood has been telling you how unbeautiful you are. Get wise. Make dust out of here. New York. Any- where. What that face of yours needs is footlights — {Continued on page 99) She'd begun to think she was downright homely — now she's o jcmmc fatalc. 14 says Elizabeth taylor: I love the Super -Smooth Finish New Woodbury liwder ^iVes my Skin I'7 ELIZABETH TAYLOR, :beaufiful co-star of ;Metro-Gotdwyn-Mayer's "LITTLE WOMEN", wears ..satin-smooth Woodbury Powder. You'll find a new kind of beauty in the Woodbury box— it's the world's finest face powder! You'll see the difference* the instant you wear divinely fragrant New Woodbury Powder: *There's no "powdery" look! *Shades are warmer, richer, yet the color seems your own natural coloring. *New Woodbury Powder gives a satin-smooth finish powder alone could never give before. 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Through a fluke, the bogus Schuyler Tatlock becomes sole heir to the An aunt (Ilka Chase) discovers that Lund is phony, forces him to go famous Tatlock millions and the family begins to fawn on him. One away so that her son, Robert Stack (being clouted by Lund) can marry ; especially is his "sister," Wanda Hendrix, whom Lund starts to adore. Wanda and recover a few millions. Then the real Schuyler returns! MISS TATLOCK'S MILLIONS Barry Fitzgerald starts off by hiring John Lund to impersonate a young man named Schuyler Tatlock, and here's why. Schuy- ler's the half-wit grandson of the tremendously rich California Tatlocks, and Fitzgerald's had a soft job for years being Schuyler's keeper (the Tatlocks call it "social secretary") in Hawaii, $500 a month rolling in, and the white sand, and the broad Pacific. Trouble is, Schuyler-boy's a firebug. Leave a match around the house, and goodbye, house. One day Fitzgerald leaves Schuyler alone to go into town and pick up the monthly check. He stays away too long. Two cases too long, to be precise. When he returns, there's only a pile of ashes. No Schuyler. Barry hates to give up the easy money, so he, well, he doesn't exactly notify Schuy- ler's family of Schuyler's demise. Five hundred a month is $500 a month. Two years later he's in trouble. The old Tatlocks J5 die within an hour of one another, and all the heirs have to be present to hear the will read, and Fitzgerald receives a wire from California to bring Schuyler home at once. The way he looks at it, in Schuyler's present shape, he'd be too much of a shock to his folks. (The folks are Schuyler's uncles, Monty Woolley and Dan Tobin, and his aunts, Dorothy Stickney and Ilka Chase, and his sister, Wanda Hendrix.) In addi- tion to this, Fitzgerald figures if anyone finds he's been taking money for no services ren- dered (larceny) and has failed to inform the authorities of the death of a citizen (federal offense) he'll be shipped to San Quentin. Which is why he hires Lund. Lund doesn't like the idea much, but he's a movie stunt man (Fitzgerald found him through Central Casting) and not a terribly conventional soul himself. He says he'll go through with it for a couple of days. After the will is read, Fitzgerald will get sent back to Hawaii with the supposed Schuyler, and the salary will continue, and Lund will get a thousand dollars. Through a legal fluke, however. Schuyler is named the sole heir, and his acid-tongued aunts and uncles all want to be his guardians, and Lund has a field day spitting fruit pits, letting his. tongue loll out of his head, and bringing them worms for presents. He's as convincing a moron as you'd care to see, and he rollicks through the part of Schuyler with zest, but he also plays his real life stunt man with nice, quiet effi- ciency. He's a good actor, and, incidentally, very handsome with brown hair (it's dyed to match Schuyler's). Lots more happens. Lund falls in love with Wanda (she's overly affectionate because she thinks he's her brother) and saves her from marrying Ilka's worthless son, Robert Stack, and, of course, the real Schuyler shows up at the end with a Hawaiian wife and two native babies and there's heck to pay. It's a swell movie, one of the funniest. Charlie Brackett (producer and co-writer of the script) and Richard Haydn (who directed and played a bit part) have come up with a comedy that's got everything. — Para. New lotion miracle brings out the beauty of your WHOLE HAND ! BEAUTIFIES SKIN New Hinds is enriched with lanolin to make your hands feel softer instantly— protect them longer. Works wonders on rough, dry skin! a SATINIZES PAIMS Even rough palms are soothed and smoothed. New Hinds' "skin-affinity" ingredi- ents actually help to soften calluses. SOFTENS CUTICLE Nails look neater with New Hinds helping to keep cuticle pliable. No ragged edges to "catch." Your manicures stay lovely longer! 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Cry Of The City: Trigger-happy Richard Conle, policeman Vic Mature and justice triumphing. York City locale, and a trigger-happy hood- lum (Richard Conte this time) attempting to blast himself a place in the sun. Our cop hero is Victor Mature, and he has no sym- pathy for Conte, because he too was a poor Italian boy from the slums, and he didn't go wrong. Martin Rome (that's Conte) has been leading a life of crime for years, but I'm not sure whether you're expected to think he's a pretty good guy, or a pretty bad guy. It's confusing. Partly because as we first meet Marty, he's in the hospital, full of lead, after having killed a cop. That's terrible. Next min- ute, everybody's admitting the cop had killed several other fellows, and Marty's action was undoubtedly in self-defense. That's not so terrible. The hospital's trying to fix Mar- ty up so he can get well and go to the elec- tric chair, when a young girl (Debra Paget), as innocent as the dawn, sneaks in to tell him she'll love him forever. Obvious deductions: Marty must have his sweet side. Also, his old mama sends him hot soup. Obvious de- duction : Marty must once have been kind to his mother. While he's in the hospital, a lawyer named Niles (Barry Kroeger) comes to ask Marty to confess to a large and ap- palling jewel robbery. The idea is Marty can only go to the chair once, and he's going to die anyway, so he may as well save this Niles' client (the real jewel thief) from his just desserts. Marty takes one look at Nile's sneering face — believe me, it's one of the most horrid faces I've ever seen — and tells Niles what he can do. Shortly thereafter, Marty breaks out of his jail hospital, goes to see Niles, ends up killing him. Here again, it's self defense, because Niles pulled a gun (Marty himself inclines toward knifing). Well, there's a pretty complicated plot, to put it mildly, but finally Marty meets his innocent young girl friend in a church, and has her just about convinced she should run away with him, when who should appear but detective Victor Mature. It's a showdown, by gosh. Naturally, Marty loses, and the pic- ture ends inspiringly, for we find Victor ex- plaining to Marty's kid brother that crime does not pay, while Marty himself lies cold and dead on the pavement below. There's a certain amount of excitement in a film like this, but I'm not sure it's an intelligent ex- citement.— 20th-Fox. Ife Amazing! fts Sensational ! 1ft Exclusive ! ONLY^ Arthur Murray DANCE STUDIOS FROM COAST-TO-COAST Visit the one nearest you for a FREE dance analysis makes learning to dance easier than ever! Even if you have never danced before you can become a popular partner in a fraction of the usual time "The New Arthur Murray Way" Take Arthur Murray's short-cut to good times — find the self - confidence and popularity you've always longed for. Only a few hours at any Arthur Murray Studio will transform you into an expert dancer. His unique methods, now improved to a higher degree than ever before, make learning easy, lightning- quick and such fun! The key to all the new dances is Arthur Murray's basic discovery — the "First Step to Popularity." Like magic you find yourself leading or following a smart new Fox Trot, Rumba, Samba. You can actually go out dancing after one hour even if you've never danced before. STOP PASSING UP GOOD TIMES It's fun to be popular Only at Arthur Murray's can you get that wonder- working combination of his improved, exclusive methods and the trained skill of his teachers. Save yourself time, money, disappointment. Learn the "Arthur Murray Way." You'll be a joy to dance with, a pleasure to watch. Get a dance analysis free at any Arthur Murray Studio. Come in today. Have the time of your life at your very next party! You can dance after one lesson! See how quickly you can learn to dance "The New Arthur Murray Way." Send for the "Murray-Go-Round" today! It contains fascinating, entertaining instructions on the Fox Trot, Waltz, Rumba, Samba and Tango. Also How to Lead, How to Follow, etc. Consult your telephone directory and MAIL THIS COUPON TO YOUR NEAREST ARTHUR MURRAY STUDIO, or send it to Arthur Murray (Studio 15), 11 East 43rd Street, New York 17, N. Y. PROOF Copr. 1948, Arthur Murray, Inc. — -1 ARTHUR MURRAY STUDIOS: Please send me your maga- zine, "Murray - Go- Round," 44 pages of pictures and instructions on the latest ballroom dances, Fox Trot, Waltz, Rumba, Samba, etc. I enclose 25c. NAME.. ADDRESS CITY -ZONE STATE MODERN SCREEN-DEC. No need to Yes— just glide a new Bissell® back and forth under beds and tables— everywhere! It sweeps clean, with no pressure on the handle whatsoever! Disco-matic* brush action does work for you / Only Bissell has this revolutionary feature that adjusts the brush auto- matically to any pile rug, from deep broadlooms to smooth Orientals. Just roll your Bissell along for quick, thorough clean-ups. "Bisco-matic" Brush Action is now available in two models . . . the "Vanity" at $8.45, and the "Grand Rapids" at only $6.95. Both complete with "Sta-up" Handle and easy "Flip-O" Empty. BISSELL SWEEPERS The Bissell Carpet Sweeper Co. Grand Rapids 2, Michigan •Ren. U. S. Pat. Off. Bi«BoH'» pat- ented full spring controlled brtitth My Dear Secretary: Author Kirk Douglas' secretary (Laraine Day) marries him and writes a best-seller. It's a merry comedy, helped lots by Keenan Wynn. MY DEAR SECRETARY The trouble is, Owen Waterbury (Kirk Douglas) has had too many secretaries. He's a best-selling novelist, but he'd rather make love than money. Half the time, he just ignores his career, and pursuei happiness. His secretaries usually wind up with mink coats, he himself often ends up with black" eyes, and so it goes. Ronnie Hastings (Keenan Wynn), who lives next door, and calls himself a song-writer, has been mooching off of Owen for a long time; in return, he helps get Owen secretaries, and does the cooking. (He cooks simply xtwful messes, but they always go out and eat later anyway, so it doesn't really matter, and it helps him keep his self-respect.) When Stephanie Gaylord (Laraine Day) comes to work for Owen, it develops that that gentleman's met his Waterloo. Laraine's a principled kid, and all she wants is to write a book eventually, and make her reputation. Because of his writing, she'd always harbored the utmost admiration for Owen, but after discovering his haphazard way of life — he drinks and also gambles — she walks out in a huff. Owen, who's fallen in love with her, goes and snatches her right out of the arms of Rudy Vallee (a bookstore tycoon she used to work for) and marries her. They go away together. He writes his book. She writes hers. The publisher turns his down (it's a jealous pub- lisher; Owen once gave his wife a mink coat); a different publisher thinks hers is terrific. So there's a problem. She doesn't want to be a success if he's not. He thinks his failure's all her fault. And darned if he doesn't start hiring more secretaries. She tries to find him fat ones. He likes 'em lean. The landlady keeps coming around to ask for the rent, and eventually Ronnie marries her. It's typical bedroom comedy, and though it's not as funny as, say, the delightful Mr. and Mrs. Smith of Carole Lombard and Bob Montgomery, it certainly has its moments. Laraine Day, incidentally, was given the Rita Hayworth treatment. Hair cut very short, and bleached almost white. Sort of like Harpo Marx, but prettier. — United Artists. SEALED VERDICT This picture poses a timely ethical ques- tion. Unfortunately, it's posed in occasion- ally confused fashion, due to the fact that Paramount's tried to force what was a firm, fully-packed novel into 83 minutes of movie, We find Ray Milland, an American officer in charge of prosecuting Nazi war criminals abroad, with a problem on his hands. There's this General Otto Steigman (John Hoyt). A Nazi, admittedly. Ray prosecutes him suc- cessfully, with the aid of eyewitness testi- mony from a strange little addled victim named Rodal (Norbert Schiller) who has somehow survived the Nazi terror. The only witness for Steigman is a beautiful French expatriate, Themis De Lisle (Florence Marly), whose relationship with the general is noth- ing if not questionable. But once he's got Steigman safely convicted, Milland starts to hear rumors. People congratulate him for "pulling one off," tell him he's got the "gift of gab." He gradually discovers that his witness, Rodal, isn't trustworthy, because he's half-crazed with longing for revenge. Milland doesn't like this. He's in Europe as an upholder of American justice. Even though the stories of Steigman's crimes against humanity are legendary, until Mil- land has concrete proof of these stories in his hand, Steigman must not die. If Rodal's word is worthless, other proof must be found. American Military Government doesn't see it that way. Steigman's obviously guilty, they say. Proof or no proof, he hangs. We can't afford to coddle Nazis. But Milland, stuck with his concept of ideal justice, continues to work doggedly on the case. It grows more complicated. However, if you can keep track of all the tag ends in this movie, you will find it quite absorbing. — Para. JUNE BRIDE Funniest line in June Biide is Robert Montgomery's. He wakes up, after sleeping off a magnificent drunk, and finds himself in what seems to be a straw-filled pen. A pig is nestling in his neck. Montgomery screws his eyes shut. "I've been thrown away," says lovely Rita Hayworth Here's a complexion care that really works! In recent Lux Toilet Soap tests by skin specialists, actually three out of four com- plexions became lovelier in a short time. "My Lux Soap facials leave skin softer, smoother," says Rita Hayworth. "I smooth the creamy fragrant lather well in. As I rinse and then pat with a towel ■ to dry, skin takes on fresh new beauty!" Don't let neglect cheat you of romance. Take Rita Hayworth's tip. See what this beauty care will do for you! "THE LOVES OF CARMEN in Technicolor Farley Grangers idea of a 99 binan 24 FARLEY GRANGER, ONE OF THE STARS IN SAMUEL GOLDWYN'S "ENCHANTMENT", AND CATHY O'DONNELL in Farley Grangers own words : "When I first saw Cathy O'Donnell, I said, 'She's charming— in every way!' And I noticed her hands particularly-they ' re so soft, so feminine. Now Cathy tells me she uses Jergens Lotion always." Hollywood Stars use Jergens 7 to 1 over any other hand care! The Stars know. Their favorite hand care — Jergens Lotion — is more effective today in two ways: It makes your hands feel softer than ever, deliciously smoother. It protects even longer against roughness. Today's Jergens Lotion contains two ingredients many doctors use for skin care. Still only Wf to $1.00 (plus tax). No oiliness; no sticky feeling. If you care for your hands— use Jergens Lotion! Used by More Women than Any Other Hand Care in the World For the Softest, Adorable Hands, use Jergens Lotion His Idea? June Bride: Editor Bette Davis hires long-lost love, Robert Montgomery, and the fun starts. he says. Just a week before, he'd come home from Europe, one of the best-known foreign correspondents in the business, only to be told by his boss that the bottom has fallen out of foreign correspondents, if you'll pardon the expression. "There is a job for you here," the boss says, "but it's as a writer for Linda Gilman — on Home Life." Mont- gomery's shifty eyes light up. Linda (Bette Davis), now an editor, is none other than the girl he once loved and left, and he's only too pleased to be meeting her again. He thinks she's lovely. What she thinks of him becomes evident the minute he appears in her line of vision. You and I know she still nourishes a passion for him, though she wouldn't admit it for the world. "Three years ago, we had a dinner date," she says coldly. "I'm awfully glad I didn't wait" However, she agrees to hire him (she does need a writer) and the whole staff of Home Life then takes off for Indiana. Home Life's one of those magazines that moves in on some hapless family, reduces the weight of every- body in the place, brings all their clothes up to date, and modernizes their home in a relentless manner. This time. Home Life's going to do a June issue about an Indiana bride, and they've chosen a kid named Jeanne Brinker (Barbara Bates) for their guinea pig. Naturally, this means they massage Mama Brinker (Marjorie Bennett), act patronizing toward Papa Brinker (Tom Tully) and rip all the molding out of the Brinker living- room. Everybody is busy except Montgomery, who's miserable. "There's nothing to write about in a typical family," he says. "Unless typical Mr. Brinker should take typical Mrs. Brinker, and cleave her head open with a typical meat-axe." Before he's through, though, there's plenty to write about. He and Boo (Betty Lynn), another young Brinker, see to that. Seems the Brinker bride really loves her groom's brother. Seems Boo really loves the groom. Seems the cover of Home Life is ruined. Can anything else happen? You bet. — Warners. STATION WEST Dick Powell is a versatile young man. Having just (Continued on page 107) your letters... LOYAL TO BOB Dear Editor: In yesterday's paper, I read the awful headlines about Robert Mitchum, and my heart went out to him. Such a fine man can and will overcome this misfortune that could only injure his career, his family, and his popularity. Anne C. Means, New Orleans, La. Dear Editor: . . . Mr. Mitchum is an actor with a future. Let's help him get back on the right track. We all need help and loyalty. After all, it's the public's fault that we haven't cleaned up the narcotics racket. Mrs. R. H. Geilenjeldt, San Diego, Calif. DISGUSTED WITH HOLLYWOOD Dear Editor: The Bob Mitchum scandal is the last straw ! We movie patrons no longer get to see actors and actresses, but the boys and girls who have the best "bedroom eyes and voices." Yet the movie maga- zines paint these characters as "sweet, home-loving bodies." Hogwash ! No wonder young people today become juvenile delinquents, when their idols are nothing but divorcees and drunken sots. A former movie fan (Because of overwhelming public in- terest in this case, MODERN SCREEN brings you "Bob Mitch- urn's Own Story," on page 30 of this issue — Editor) WE'RE A HEART- WARMER Dear Editor: Your October story, "It's Not a Dream, Darling," about Cornel Wilde and Pat Knight, was one of the most heart-warming and wonderful articles I've ever read. Terry Robertson, Richmond Hill, New York TOXTON ANTI-TOXTON Dear Editor: In the November issue, you identified the girl with Peter Lawford as "Susan Perry, formerly Candy Toxin." Maybe you should have your caption writers inocu- lated against stupid errors like that. The lady's name was Toxton, as appeared later on in your story. Irma Nesselrode, St. Louis, Mo. (We bow our heads in shame, Irma, but in the confusion of Candy's be- coming Susan Perry, Rita Corday's becoming Paule Crosset, and Isabelita changing her name to Lita Baron and then to Mrs. Rory Calhoun, we're not sure we can spell our own name anymore — Editor) YES, I'M JEANNIE. Together, Fred and I turned out songs . . . about love and moon- beams. To annoy me he sometimes whistled "Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair". . . for my brown hair was nothing to dream about. It was just dingy-looking and unruly. BACKSTAGE ONE NIGHT, my chum Madge told me the secret of her gorgeous hair. "Lustre-Creme Shampoo," she said. "My hair- dresser uses it. It's not a soap, nor a liquid, but a new cream shampoo with lanolin. Use it at home, too, and keep your hair lovely!"- Jeannie with the dull wild hair... now a lovely "LUSTRE CREME" Gi 1 WHEN I GAILY ARRIVED at our studio next day, Fred whistled in amaze- ment. "Hold it, Gorgeous!" he cried. "Your hair! It's wonderful! 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Just the other day you revealed, quite simply and openly, that you had more than a passing interest in Lieutenant Glenn Davis, the ex-West Pointer of All-America football fame. You let it be known that you were most unhappy that you and he would be separated while he was on duty in Korea. You said you would be wearing his pin all that time. What could be more natural for a 17-year-old girl? How could you have been more honest — with yourself and your public? Yet a good many columnists at once began clucking their tongues fondly but sadly and in general expressing sorrow or shock over the fact that you're no longer a child. This sort of thing seems to us quite ridiculous. It's a form of pressure that has the effect, however unintentionally, of making normal girlhood and young womanhood difficult for fine people like you and Jane Powell and Peggy Ann Garner. It penalizes you in a way, for the public interest and support which you have earned — making the widespread good-will that is felt for you into a thing that might be bad for you personally. You'll come through all this in fine manner, we have no doubt at all — but why on earth must things be made tough for you? Why can't you be given the opportunity to develop naturally through normal experiences, exactly like any other girl of your own age? Young love, we keep remembering, is kind of wonderful. It's certainly not incredible, extraordinary or reprehensible. But most of us older folks seem to have forgotten the facts of life. Don't mind that, though, Elizabeth. It's your life you're leading. Let's hope people will let you lead it simply and sanely. You'll certainly have all our best wishes while you do. II EDITOR 27 IN GRID BERGMAN TALKS m In one of their rare Hollywood public appearances, Ingrid and her husband, Dr. Peter Lindstrom, dine at the Chanteclair. Ingrid •is now in England where she's completing Under Capricorn. In one of the most intimate portraits of Ingrid Bergman ever given, a famous journalist looks behind the myths and mysteries to discover a truly remarkable woman . . . ■ "Of course, Hedda," laughed Ingrid Bergman, "there are some things I simply won't talk about: For instance — how I keep my husband's affection and whether I sleep with a nightgown on or off!" "You're safe," I. assured her. "I don't give a hoot." "Good," smiled the Divine Swede. "I don't think you'll find me so uncooperative." "I never have," I told her — and I meant it. I've become pretty sick and tired, myself, of that "going-Garbo" myth they've tacked onto one of the brightest, -sincerest foreign stars who ever hit Hollywood. I've never believed it for a minute and I thought now, scanning Ingrid's friendly face : "How could anyone ever mention those two in the same breath? As stars, yes. As Swedes, sure. But as persons— how very different can you be?" Across the long, low sofa, Ingrid perched gracefully — welcoming, human and warm. A straw-tone tan made her teen-age complexion even teen-agier. Only a touch of lipstick challenged those rosy cheeks. The greens, reds and grays of her Swedish modern room made Ingrid the lovely {Continued on page 81) 29 I - I bob mitchum's Dorothy Mitchum rushed home after Bob was arrested. This picture was taken immediately following their reunion. Only a few hours before his arrest, Bob own story i ■ It was as though a playwright had a bad dream. In his night- mare, the curtain went up, not on the first act, but at the end of the drama. The critics rushed to the exits, screaming their verdicts without having seen the play. The public, shocked at the headlines, asked, "Can it be?" The Robert Mitchum story is like that nightmare. It must be told now in reverse, from the headlines to the truth of the matter. And it happens that as a Hollywood reporter who was with the actor just before the curtain came down, I am well qualified to present the re-enactment in the true version which until now has been cloaked in confusion. The scene is a modest, five-room home, on Glen Oak Drive, high in the Hollywood hills. An actor is seated at a desk, scribbling notes in pencil. He is Robert Mitchum . . . "In eight years we grew so fast we had little time to talk," he writes, in part. "As a result, we discover a beautiful and charming lady of obvious advancement confronted by a comic-strip character who is glued to his background by printer's ink." Mitchum pauses. He picks up a telegram just received from his wife, Dorothy, who is in the East. It tells him that she will be home in a few days. It tells him more than that : It says this is the end. He knows that he might as well start looking for another house for himself, leaving this one for Dorothy and the two boys. It is to be the final step before their divorce. Bob winces, thinking of the letter he had written — the last attempt at reconciliation: "Why not leave the children back East for awhile? All this talk is for the birds. Join me in Acapulco for a second honeymoon. . ." Well, that was that, and he had asked for it. His eyes took in the familiar scene, this living room in which he had so often rough- housed with Josh and Chris, his kids. He was proud of this home. In its simple modesty it was a symbol of the sensible man's Hollywood. Bob Mitchum returned to the notes he had begun to scribble. He had promised them to me; promised them as an answer to all sorts of rumors and wrong guesses about him that had been showing up in gossip columns. "It is her misfortune," Bob continued, writing of his wife, Doro- thy, "to have reared a monster in her loving keep, and she in resolu- tion turns her head. I have called, but (Continued on page 33) Mitchum gave Modern Screen the most revealing interview of his career — part of it written by Bob himself. It is a poignant document, a true picture of a man trapped by fame. But al- though Bob's words are weighted with sadness, they are also filled with hope . . . with courage. It is an amazing story, one you will never forget . . . 31 BOB MITCHUM WROTE THESE REPLIES TO REPORTS OF HIS MARITAL TROUBLES . . For months columnists hinted at trouble between Bob and Dorothy. Asked to reply to specific gossip items, Bob wrote the com- ments -shown at right. First reply is to a columnist's report, in 1946, that Bob and Dorothy had "mended their troubles" and that there would be no divorce "for a long time — if ever." Bob wrote, in part, that he hopes there will be no divorce — -"forever." "Understand things are not going too well at Bob's," a columnist wrote in January, 1948. Bob said (right) that he learned of the item through a phone call and "my girl cried." For him, it was the "handwriting on the portable lath-and-plaster wall." Thinking of the gossip item, "Friends fear the Mitchums are writing that unhappy Hollywood ending," Bob remarked he and Dorothy were vacationing in Delaware at the time. He was depressed by his own troubles, by. the troubles of others. In flight "like a runaway in a swamp" he left Dorothy in Delaware, drove to New York to shake off his mood of depression. In July a columnist wrote, "The Robert Mitchums' explosion is expected to take place in three weeks." "No explosion," wrote Bob. "I have spent eight years try- ing to get this girl alone for a while so that we might discover each other." And he says magnanimously, "We discover a most beautiful and charming lady, of obvi- ous advancement, confronted by a comic- strip identity who is glued to his background by printer's ink." (Bob, modest in self- appraisal, sees himself as tied to his past by stories written about him.) "I have called," he says, "but she has heard the story of Lot's wife. About the only thing I can do now is get the hell out of the comic strip and walk around to face her. Wish me luck." (Unlike Lot's wife, who be- came a pillar of salt when she looked back, Dorothy has already "looked back" — and has now become Bob's pillar of strength.) 'Wvj Xi+jkjjLi ''W-w ^ . . _ H /it .-IT n . rrr- „ ■ I .^P u*-&0 sv^juJI*- far tLL*, y (fx su*s m XL (Continued from page 31) she has heard the story of Lot's wife. About the only thing I can do now is to get the hell out of the comic strip and walk around to face her. Wish me luck." Prophetic words, these, for less than 24 hours later the world of Robert Mitchum was to blow up around him. In his ears was to ring the shouting of newsboys: "Actor arrested — Bob Mitchum in jail!" Reporters, policemen, friends, studio workers, his bosses, his fans — all were to see him with cold, impartial eyes, like a medical student peering at a cadaver. I know, because I felt that way, momentarily, myself. The day before the arrest I had an interview with Bob Mitchum at a table in the side room at Lucey's Restaurant. We didn't waste time. I placed a neat pile of clippings from gossip columns in front of Bob. "You'd better look at these," I suggested, "and answer them one way or another." He glanced through the clippings. "I'll answer them," he said. "I think I ought to. If you don't mind, I'll take them along. Tonight I'll write out everything I can say. You'll have the whole story tomorrow." "Fair enough," I said. I knew he wouldn't forget, wouldn't fail on his promise. There have been plenty of stories about Bob Mitchum's "unreliability." I never found him to be that way. On the contrary, he was always open and honest with me. My friendly feeling for Bob and Dorothy dates back to the time when I first met them. Fresh from his first success, Bob admitted candidly that he had only one suit of clothes and $3.56 in his pocket to last until next payday. And he didn't ask for a loan. Later, when I had a problem in finding a boarding school for my small son, Dorothy was the one who pre- vented my making the wrong move. My boy and Bob's small fry, Chris, were schoolmates and buddies. The teachers confided that you couldn't ask for a finer lad than that Chris Mitchum. He showed in every inch of him that he'd come from a home with good parents. Seized with Bob Mitchum were dancer Vicki Evans (left) and actress Lila Leeds. They are shown awaiting a hearing pn a writ of habeas corpus granted when they were arrested. For these and other reasons, Bob Mitchum talks per- haps more freely to me than to other reporters. And this day at Lucey's he was the same as always, pulling no punches, never dodging the issue. What he said was filled with overtones of sardonic wit. Freud has a good deal to say about wit of that cynical and skeptical type. People who indulge in it are forever appearing to shatter respect for institutions and truths in which they really believe very deeply. As a result, such people are little understood. "If anything does happen between Dorothy and me," Bob said, pointing to the clippings" it may well be the result of these 'stories' as much as anything else. Dorothy is a little nicer than most of us, in the genuine sense of the word. I guess you know that. She's not the type who understands these picturesque distortions that pass for journalism." He paused, then added, "You know, the telephone is an instrument of the Devil. It shouldn't have been invented. It's so intimate, yet neither side can really tell what's going on. "For instance, I leave the studio. I've got a couple of things to think about. I meet friends. It's harmless, but we get to talking. I think maybe I'd better call home and say I'm going to be delayed. So I call. Dorothy answers. I explain. It should be simple, but it's not. I can tell by the sound of her voice that she's hurt. "How am I to know that she's been reading about us somewhere? There's been one line in a column — some- thing about things not going too well domestically with us. Someone has called Dorothy and read it to her over the telephone. But this I don't know. "So I go home. Dorothy doesn't mention the story until hours later. She has great pride and sensitivity. Afterwards, I feel that if I hadn't made that telephone call I wouldn't have upset her." I pointed out that every actor goes through something like this. It's an occupational hazard. "Yeah," Bob said, "but the (Continued on page 92). Jerry Geisler (left), famous Los Angeles attorney, was chosen to defend Mitchum against narcotics charge emerging from Bob's arrest during an alleged Hollywood marijuana party. photos by marty crail When you think of Grable you think of glamor — but I don't. I think of my daughter sorting the laundry, I" think how she loves to be — HARRY'S GIRL ■ Yes, she's Harry's girl. And that's the secret of Betty's happiness. If you're a woman in love with your husband, you'll know right off what I mean. Betty always wanted what any normal girl wants— home, husband, kids — and she knew what she wanted. Harry and her home come first, no two ways about it. Soon after her marriage she said to me: "Mother, if I ever, had to choose between marriage and career, I wouldn't stop to think twice. Without the career, life could still be. good. Without Harry — it couldn't." But I'm willing to lay ten to one that, with Betty and Harry, the question has never come up. I've never heard them tliscuss it. Betty's never mentioned it to me, and we're pretty close. And if •I know my son-in-law, his attitude would have been: if Betty wants to work, okay.; if she doesn't, okay. Of course, you have to have two like them to swing it — Betty, who's never been the kind that's eaten with ambition, and Harry, who's an angel — both of them crazier about each other than the day they married. But let's keep things straight. Don't get the idea that her career doesn't matter to Betty, because you'd be getting the wrong idea. She loves it. She loves making pictures that people enjoy seeing. She loves being up there among the top ten. She was proud of her picture on- a summer cover of Time — who wouldn't be? And she makes a heck of a lot of money. Reports last year had her and Harry making half a million between them. (Continued on page 104) Harry and Betty arrange to have their vacations together — then they relax at Del Mar. This fall, when Harry's on tour, Betty will do The Beautiful Blonde From Bashful Bend. One of the James' mutual interests is horses. Last season three of their own raced at Del Mar. They gave each other brood mares as birthday gifts, now have four new colts on the ranch. 35 ebeesekead SYtd company This is about the weekend when Reba and Bonnie fell in love with young Cheesehead, and with Cheese- head's Mom and Pop — the Glenn Fords . . . ■ The Glenn Fords' hospitality would charm even a potentate. We know, since we spent a weekend at their home. One quiet afternoon at Columbia Studios, we were* gathering material for our newspaper column and stopped by to chat with Glenn on the set of Mr. Soft Touch. Glenn is always good copy. We found him leaning back in his canvas chair. Legs propped against a sound box. Brown hat pushed over his face. "A picture of utter contentment," we heckled and waited in vain for some response from beneath the hat. We tried again. "Some movie stars have nothing to do but loaf." The hat crept up a few inches. We pursued. "And they call this work!" That did it. The hat was pushed back revealing two amused hazel eyes. Glenn was in a mellow mood. Don't know how we got on the subject, but the talk drifted to hobbies and home life. "How do you spend your free time?" we inquired nosily. "If you really want to know, why don't you come up and spend the weekend with us?" The next Saturday we nursed our car up the steep hill, passed Pickfair, and turned into the Fords' swinging driveway. Their house is a sunny brick affair that sprawls over two wooded acres in Beverly Hills. We walked up the rose-lined path and rang the" bell. (Continued on next page) by reba and bonnie churchill photos by bert parry and bob beerman Reba finds Glenn's a demon with a badminton racket. Ellie and Bonnie watch. Glenn's regular opponents are Bill Holden, Bill Wyler, Mark Stevens. 37 Ellie's brand of hospitality includes bedside service. Vanilla malteds for Bonnie and Reba are delivered in person. Ellie not only runs her ten room house but takes weekly swimming and dancing lessons to keep fit! Pork sausages and hot coffee cake were served at Sunday breakfast on the patio. Patio opens off the living room and overlooks a landscaped garden. Tall pines and eucalyptus trees separate Fords from neighbors. Reba and Bonnie wade with Peter (or "Cheesehead") in his pool. Not much larger than a goldfish bowl, the pool's depth is less than three feet. Glenn (of Mr. Soft Touch) plans to let it grow with Cheesehead. Upstairs in Glenn's bedroom-study are Pete's electric trains, sun lamps, an ice-cream bar and the Fords' combined collection of records — 8,000. Room also holds a steam cabinet which Pete calls "The Flying Freckle." cheesehead and company (Continued from preceding page) And then a ferocious-looking German Shepherd nosed around the corner of the house. Took a few sniffs and disappeared. We began breathing again. The door opened and there stood Glenn and Eleanor Ford (who used to be Eleanor Powell), wearing matching smiles. There was a chorus of hello's as Glenn reached for our bags and ushered us into the circu- lar entry hall. This is an antique collector's delight. On one side of the door is a large ivory chest which rests on the brows of two carved cupids. On the other side, is a caramel- colored marble table with a bowl of freshly- cut roses from the garden. And there's Gus — an imposing marble head mounted on a three-foot pedestal. "An ancestor?" "Nope," replied Glenn. "He's an ancient Roman ruler named Augustus. Gus for short. Came with the house. Confidentially, we're keeping him for a spare hatrack." "And also because you can't move him," chided Ellie. "Come along, girls, and I'll show you your room." As we started up the stairs we caught 38 While Ellie was on tour, Glenn filled the music room with a pool table. Director W. Wyler taught him the game. Here, Glenn teaches Bonnie and Reba. sight of a three-year-old peeking over the railing above. He caught sight of us, too. "Hiya, Cheesehead !" Glenn greeted him. " 'Lo, Daddy," replied Peter Newton Ford gravely. "Are these them?" "Yes, dear," said Ellie as we reached the second story. "Come say hello." He advanced shyly and took our hands in turn. With us, it was a case of love at first sight. Peter — or Cheesehead, as Glenn fondly calls him half the "time — led the way to the guest room. Actually, it was a suite, with mirrored powder-room, bath and bed- room— all in old rose. Its pink quilted walls, satin coverlets, and thick carpets were as fluffy as cotton candy. "Come on down to the Chinese room when you're unpacked," Glenn called cheer- ily from downstairs. The Chinese room with its red lacquered walls and carved gold Oriental figures used to be the music room. But while Ellie was on a four-months' dance tour, Glenn gave the room a new look by installing a pool table. If you hold your breath you can slide between the table and the built-in couches. By a bit of manipulating you can line up your shot (that Ford has us talking like professionals), and if you hold your cue stick just so, you can play without knocking over a lamp. (Well, maybe we're just clumsy at the game.) Our shot was thrown off-balance by Peter tapping the end of our stick. "Come upstairs and see my airplane." "Airplane?" we double-taked. Glenn explained, "Pete thinks my steam cabinet is an airplane." "The Flying Freckle," which is Pete's name for the {Continued on page 74) 39 A holiday in Europe . . . a romance with a Prince . . . the French press called it love, but was it? Only Rita Hayworth knows . . . BY K. ROBY EUNSON Parisians were fascinated by Rita's adventures on the French Riviera. Prince Ali Khan (above) took first placo among her numerous admirers. In London, Rita's film, Down To Earth, opened at the Gaumont Theater. Proceeds went to the British Limbless Ex-Servicemen's Association. Group-captain Douglas Bader was Rita's escort. The French press played up Rita as a dashing American movie star, and gave small space to her more dignified public appear- ances— as here, with Michel Troubetzkoy, at Paris opening of Gilda. ■ And now she's back in the United States — the little Cansino girl who flashed like a comet through the diamond- studded skies of European society. Rita's fling has been flung; the dowagers of the Riviera have almost stopped shaking their heads in amazement; there's a silence in Con- tinental society like the calm that follows a hurricane. But the whispers can still be heard clearly — little moth- like whispers that flutter through the salons of France to gnaw at Rita's reputation. "That American movie star! My dear, did you see her with the Prince!" (The Prince, Of course, is Prince Ali Khan, a gay blade with enough gold in his locker to sink the Queen Mary.) "Is she going to marry him? How about Orson Welles? Did you see her dance with Alberto Dodero? Is it true that Rita . . . ?'' Well, what is the truth about Rita's three-month holiday in Europe? Were the foreign press reports correct in their suggestion that the incandescent American movie star leaped from one romance to another — each staged in full view of the public — each more colorful than the last? It all began quietly enough, this holiday that startled Eu- ropean society. Typical of Rita's slow start was an incident that took place shortly after her arrival in Paris on June 10. Baron Roland de L'Epee was entertaining the diplomatic set at his swank Avenue Foch home, only a stone's throw from the Arc de Triomphe. "There's Rita Hayworth sitting over there," exclaimed the American secretary from the embassy. "I'd recognize her anywhere." "Jove," said the British secretary, adjusting his pince-nez, "awfully quiet sort, what?" This party was backdrop for Rita's first public appearance in Paris. She couldn't have been more inconspicuous — and Rita wanted it that way. Those who observed her at the Baron L'Epee's party were conscious of her tremendous charm and also of her unwillingness to dominate the affair, as she might easily have done. - She had arrived in Paris a day or so before and registered at the Hotel Lancaster in Rue de Berri, just off the Champs Elysees. Although the Lancaster is anything but swank, it is comfortable and often draws visiting notables because of a management policy that guarantees protection from in- quiring reporters. Miss Hayworth and her secretary put up at the Lancaster and were left pretty much alone. But her second public appearance was at the glamorous carnival, Grande Nuit de Paris, where she shared billing with Ingrid Bergman, Charles Boyer, Edward G. Robinson, and an antiquated elephant named Mary. Miss Hayworth wore a white evening gown, draped in such a manner that it drew a good round of "ooohhs" and "aaahhs" from the crowd perched in the shadows of the spotlighted Eiffel Tower. Again-, Miss Hayworth seemed subdued in manner. "She has just finished working her heart (Continued on page 101) n The Thanksgiving when he wept, a fight ending in disgrace — things like these Greg remembers with gratitude^ j \ By GEORGE BENJAMIN mem ■ You feel sure that Gregory Peck must be one of those depressive personalities for which psychiatrists have hyphenated names when you first hear the kind of 'experiences in his past that he chooses to be grateful for around Thanksgiving time. Events like a mgmorable punch in the snoot, an attack on him by three street toughs, an early Thanksgiving that started out to be the lonesomest day of his life — these are what he loves to dwell over fondly. The pleasant things that have happened to him he seems to consider as strictly secondary. He doesn't even mention the time he was signed for Hollywood, for instance. To him a much more significant day was the one at college when he came to the conclusion that he had wasted three years taking the wrong course. And then, when this causes you to mull over your hard luck in happening to be talking to Gregory just when he is having a mental breakdown — he proves he is right! He has unerringly picked the incidents in his life that either helped mould him into the man he is, or turned him directly onto the path he had to follow to get where he is today. Take that black morning at the University of California when Gregory, decided that he was barking up the wrong career — that he didn't want to settle down in life as a teacher of English literature after all. That had been his first ambition. He had expressed it to his father thus: (Continued on page 79) 42 photos by bert parry •Rory gave Lita the ring for her birth- day. They were quietly wed August 29. Rory's next is When -a Man's a Man. Only now does Lita know how much Rory meant it when he said, "I love you" . . . how much she wanted him to mean it . . . as told to Louis Pollock MY ONE AND ONLY ■ I always thought that if a man ever told me he loved me the first time we met, I would burst out laughing. Rory Calhoun told me that the first time we ever talked and I didn't laugh. I sat there just looking at him. If I said anything at that moment I don't remember it. I know partly what I was thinking. I was thinking that it might happen like that in Chicago or Upper Sandusky or Temple, Texas, or maybe in the movies — but not in the place where they make the movies; not in Hollywood. And, finally, not knowing what else to do, I decided I had better start kidding. Rory kidded back. But, as we know now, we were only kidding ourselves. Rory meant it so much, and I wanted him to mean it so much. . . . It didn't happen the first time we saw each other. It happened one night last January when, as Isabelita — as I was then known professionally — I was singing at the Mocambo. I saw him enter and* take a table close to the orchestra. I felt that he was watching me. He says I never looked back at him, but I did; out of the tiniest corner of my eyes I saw him all the time. When that evening passed and we didn't meet I was quite let down. But when other nights came, and Rory along with them, sitting again and watching again; then I felt something exciting growing within me and from then on the other patrons should have started kicking — because as far as I was concerned, I was singing just for Rory Calhoun. I sang to Rory Calhoun, whom I didn't know, and it was as if I were talking to him. I wanted to tell him things about me ... of a little girl who was only four (Continued on page 89) 44 artanis knarf by bobby burns Frank's manager, Bobby Burns, keeps him from promising to be in three places at once. Here they're on their way to a studio conference. As usual, Frank rushes ahead. They met in 1939, when both worked for T. Dorsey. Bobby joined Frank's staff after his Army discharge. He's a favorite with Nancy, Jr. Above they confer with Busby Berkeley on Take Me Out To The Ball Game. \Jm 11 I know about planes is that I like trains. But Frank Sinatra — I'm sort of his manager — got a new air- plane not long ago and he loves it. It's a Beechcraft Bonanza, whatever that is, and it's taken ten years off my life already. Frank bought it to commute between Palm Springs and Hollywood. Nancy was a little dubious. "You aren't going to fly it yourself, Frank?" "Me? Heck, no! I'm just taking lessons. Bob Lee is the pilot and I'll be co-pilot, and I'll make Burns navi- gator." "Not me!" I said. "I couldn't navigate a bull across a cow pasture." "Aw, it's easy. You'll catch on quick." Nancy really worried, though, when Frank decided to make a trip to New York in the plane, with Bob Lee and me. "Why can't you take a regular airline, like everyone else?" Frank looked at her reprovingly. "What about Lind- bergh? Where would the world be today if he'd taken a regular airline?" Nancy gavo up. When Frank makes up his mind about something he is a determined type. They said, "Okay, you're the navigator, Burns," and handed me what looked like an Esso road map. I was navigator. That is a trip which will be long remembered, at least by me. And by George Evans, Frank's publicity man, who was waiting for us in New York. We took our time. None of that Howard Hughes nonsense for us. We left Palm Springs at six-thirty and by the time we got to Okla- homa City, we said nuts to all this flying, what we wanted was eight hours' sleep. Which we had plus steak and spaghetti. We got started again, but every now and then we'd have to make a landing because Frank would want a malted. Honest. I called Evans from St. Louis, in case he might be wondering what had happened to us. He was. His language was terrible and he (Continued on page 96) 47 mrs. briski in s Betty's house was built with joy and a few quiet tears. Betty's house is warm and friendly — like her heart. • By MARVA PETERSON dream house Betty and Ted do their everyday living in the library-bar, equipped with television, bar counter, books, and small tables Guest house is an English-type cottage, set in the garden. Here the Briskins hold poker parties without disturbing kids. Cock- fight chair, left of fireplace, was made by George Montgomery. Betty told decorator Ray Moyer, "I want a coffee table in the living room that I can put my feet on." So Ray designed a combination ottoman-table. Fireside chairs are built for two. ■ Two years ago when Betty Hutton was pregnant for the first time, she called in a drove of carpenters to add a nursery to her house. When the room was near completion, one of the work- men stepped back and inspected his handiwork. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "this is really going to be a beautiful nursery." He looked at Betty, at her well-tailored maternity dress, at her finely tooled shoes. "I guess," he said, "you must've had a nursery almost as nice." "Cripes, man!" Betty exclaimed. "/ was raised in a clothes-basket ! " Betty Hutton's early youth, as you probably know, was scarcely a period of gracious living. She spent her adolescence singing in night clubs, living in furnished rooms, traveling from one scrubby town to another. You might imagine that now she's established in well-to-do domesticity, she's gone all out to make up for those drab beginnings. But her establishment isn't like that at all. There are no eye-blinding color schemes, no rococo decor, no too-elaborate furnishings — just a house, lively, pleasant, completely livable, a house transformed by the personality of the four Briskins into a happy home. Betty bought this low, rambling, California ranch house when she was single. She bought it from Ruth Hunting- ton, whose grandfather had founded the Southern Pacific Railroad. It was a small house, with pool, patio, and one guest room — an ideal set-up for a bachelor girl. And that was Betty's lot in life back in 1945. A few weeks after she purchased the house, Betty left Hollywood on an eight-week USO tour. Before leaving, she discussed the interior decorating with Ray Moyer. Ray had been the set decorator on such pictures as Lady in the Dark, Love Letters, Stork Club and Dream Girl. He had also done Betty's studio dressing-room, and she had frequently promised him, "If I ever buy a house, you're going to decorate it." Just before she boarded the train, after going over final plans for the house with him for hours. Betty gave Ray one last request. "I want a coffee table in front of the fireplace," she said, "that I can put my feet on." Moyer designed a combination table and ottoman, and it turned out to be exactly what Betty had in mind. Unfortunately, Moyer wasn't clairvoyant enough to know what Betty had in her heart. On September 2nd, 1945, he found out. He received the following wire: GETTING MARRIED STOP FIX OUT OF THIS WORLD ROOM FOR TED STOP ARRIVE SEPTEMBER 20 LOVE BETTY. Moyer says he almost blacked out when he read the telegram. "After all," he explains, "there I was working on a home for a single girl, with all my plans drawn accordingly.' I was having a tough enough time as it was, what with shortages in everything. And then that telegram came, giving me 18 days to re-do the place for a man and wife." The memory still unsteadies him. Luckily, Moyer had had a good deal of movie experi- ence in building castles overnight, so he knew what to do. He feverishly converted the {Continued on next Page) "yy bob beerman and bert parry mrs. briskin's dream house 'Lindsay's and Candy's closets (in hallway just outside the nursery) look like display cabinets in children's store. Glass doors are intended to encourage neatness in Betty's two girls. guest room, originally planned in demure blue and white, into a man's virile setting of chartreuse and brown with leather accessories. Breathing heavily, he finished the house two short hours before Betty and Ted Briskin made their appearance. Moyer met them at the front door. He asked them to leave their luggage in the foyer on the shaggy chartreuse carpet and to "please follow me." The first stop on the conducted tour was the dining room. It's small but well-mirrored — which, of course, always creates the illusion of size. The furniture is white and upholstered in yellow shag. The table, made of glass with an antique mirror center, is a copy of one used in Stork Club. Betty fell in love with the original and in- sisted that Ray have a duplicate made. There's a silver lazy susan, a present from the studio, and a corner niche agleam with much of the Briskins' wedding silver. The Briskins don't use the dining room very often. For large parties, they have a pork or beef barbecue outside; and when they just have another couple — say Sue and Alan Ladd — in for dinner, they usually relax up in the library- bar, munching in front of the fireplace. The decor of this library-bar probably best exemplifies the Briskins' simple, lively tastes. It's green, yellow-striped, and touched with hot pink, Betty's favorite color. Here are books, a television set (a birthday present from Ted when she was too expectant to go to ball games), a tele- phone. It also contains bound copies of all the Hutton movie scripts, a magazine award to Betty for being the most promising actress of 1944, and Gizmo, a funny figure Mom Briskin feeds Candy in the nursery. Mother Goose folk were painted on walls by a Disney artist. Lindsay's crib is modeled after Betty's bed; all the furniture is scaled down to kids' size. of a Marine in battle dress, posed like an Oscar. This was presented to Betty for her performance in The Miracle of Morgan's Creek by Leatherneck, the Marines' magazine. The room looks small but it's got a lot of seating space. In addition to the three easy chairs and bar stools, it has striped benches along one wall. The living room is a rhapsody in gray-green walls and raspberry-red upholstery. The two dominant features are the white concert-grand piano and the pastel portrait of Betty which hangs above it. The portrait was painted by Helen Carlton in 1942. The furniture is out-sized, with the sofa seating six quite easily and the two chairs on either side of the fireplace seating two each. In between is that ottoman-coffee table, Betty's favorite piece. Ted Briskin's room is a prime example of remodeling ingenuity — made necessary when Ted gave up his original room so it could be turned into the aforementioned nursery. His present one was once nothing but a patio between the library and Betty's bedroom. It's an oak-paneled job. distinctly masculine, with a desk and desk chair done in green leather, other furniture of bleached wood, and a bedspread and draperies of full-bodied yellow. Betty's bedroom is the room that made her cry when designer Moyer first led her into it. "Why the tears?" Ray asked on that memorable day. "Is it that bad?" "No, no!" Betty sobbed. "It's — it's so beautiful I've just got to cry." It's beautiful, all right. The wallpaper is blue and streaked with a feathery white figure. The rug is blue and the curtains, made of fine white {Continued on page 103) ifflllMHMSIlMllMHAI Large windows take up a complete wall of the spacious Jiving room. Couch seats six comfortably, and the white grand piano (extreme left) is concert size. To contrast with massive furniture are warm color tones of grey-green, soft red and muted yellow. Although here they are only entertaining each other, Betty and Ted can — and frequently do — hold big parties in this room The dining room is "spun sunlight" — with upholstery and rug done in bold yellow. Illusion of space is created by mirrors. The table is a replica of one used in Betty's Stork Club. Betty cried when she saw her bedroom for the first time — "so delicate and beautiful." Colors are pink, blue and white. Loudspeaker at night table picks up all sounds in the nursery. 51 Getting ready for rodeo time requires lots of work. When Trigger slows down Roy plans to replqce him with Trigger, Jr. (above). ■ Before setting out on the third annual tour with their World's Championship Rodeo, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans spent three weeks putting their educated equines, Trigger and Pal, through a brisk refresher course in horse tricks. As a further warm-up, Roy and Dale appeared as guest stars at the annual Sheriff's Rodeo at the Los Angeles Coliseum — where Ann Sheridan presided as Queen (yep, Annie rode a horse) and Marshals Jack Carson and Dennis Morgan led the opening parade. Soon after this jumbo charity event, Roy and Dale and Trigger and Pal went that-a-way with their own show, open- ing in Philadelphia and winding up in Chicago a couple of weeks ago following numerous stands in Midwestern cities. The Rogers rodeo is one of the two biggest in existence, the other being that owned and operated by a young feller named Gene Autry— which, as it happens, is also billed as the World's Championship Rodeo. (Seems that's general usage.) Lots of other rodeos are entertaining as all get out to those who know the finer points of bulldozin', bronco-bustin' and the other frontier specialties — yet make the ordinary spectator right restless after the first unrelieved half hour. The Rogers show is different. Cowboys do try to out-perform each other to win various World's Championships, as decided by points accumulated by the end of the tour. But sand- wiched in between the Wild West athletics are trained dogs, acrobats, auto-wrecking comedians, and lots of fine music — mainly supplied by Roy and Dale and The Riders of the Purple Sage. Throughout, Roy tells the folks jokes and little confidences. At the end he rides around the sides of the arena shaking hands with as many as he can. Everybody — and who can blame 'em? — tries to get into this part of the. act. 52 they went that-a-wayl i Rodeo time comes every year for Roy and Dale! They give their horses a refresher course, and then take the West on tour. photos by bert parry and bob beerman This is Trigger rehearsing his own way of taking a curtain call. The Dale and Roy put their horses into a driving gallop. Dale, as horse is accomplished on the dance floor, too. He waltzes, fox-trots good a rider as Roy, is mounted on Pal. Their stables are and jitterbugs — even without a band — all Roy has to do is hum a tune. at the N. Hollywood ranch of Hank Randall, Roy's trainer, f Guests at the annual Sheriff's Rodeo in the Los Angeles Coliseum, Roy and Dale sit at attention cs the flag goes by. This rodeo was a warm-up for their own show which toured Midwestern cities in October. Triggsr performs for the Coliseum audience — which numbered 105,000. Roy says he won't teach his next horse 52 stunts because he's tired of having the horse act smarter than ho! 53 Is Jimmy Stewart going to marry Myrna Dell? Will Jane Wyman go back to Ronnie? Here's an expert guide to who's likely to marry whom — and if not, why not. BY JACK WADE ■ It is early of a Sunday morning. Out where the Topanga Canyon road begins its twists and turns over the mountain range there is a roar of motors. . At this hour, shortly after dawn, the Sunday drivers have not yet begun their game of California mayhem, and the road is safe for the two dozen motorcycle fans who whiz back and forth, holding speed tests and trading gab. Into this scene slides a sleek, squat black car of foreign make, and stops at the side of the road. In it lounges a broad-shouldered man in white T-shirt and white slacks. Seated beside him is a beautiful brunette. The man is Clark Gable, the girl Iris Bynum. Motorcycle riders wave as they shoot past. Casually, two or three who know Clark skid up and pause to talk awhile. Not about Hollywood or romance, but about fish- ing and hunting and high-powered motors. The cycle fans discuss Clark's $7,000 foreign job, want to know if it is really true that he has another car on the way, worth about $13,000. He has, he tells them, but the price rumor is a little high. Custom built, the new car will probably cost about $10,000. What goes on here? A few weeks ago, Clark Gable was prowling around the Riviera. Wherever he went he was preceded by a wave of hysterical excitement in the upper-crust social set. To have Clark Gable as a guest was score and point-after- touchdown for any society leader. Yet here is Clark a few days later, hobnobbing with guys who do good and plenty if they earn over $100 a week. And the girl with him, this Iris Bynum. Who is she? Well, who is she? A girl from Texas, that's all. A girl who works in movies sometimes. A girl whose idea of fun is not a tea dansant 54 About 12 movie couplet keep the gossip columnists happily supplied with enough Cupid items to satisfy their readers. Listed below are the most "active" Hollywood romances. Note that sometimes the same name figures in more than one combination. CAfiY GRANT BETSY DRAKE JAMES STEWART. GLORIA Me LEAN MYRNA DELL CLARK GABLE IRIS BYNUM DOLLY O'BRIEN ANITA COLBY RONALD REAGAN MONICA LEWIS HOWARD DUFF AVA GARDNER PETER LAWFORD JANE WYMAN LEW AYRES JANE WYMAN VINCENT PRICE DEANNA DURBIN BUD FOGELSON GREER GARSON BOB NEAL DIANA LYNN GREG BAUTZER JOAN CRAWFORD DAVID MAY BEVERLY TYLER romances in the Vanderbilt set, but a lovely creature who collects proposals as the average young lady does autographs. Will Clark Gable marry Iris Bynum? Nope. Will he marry Dolly O'Brien? Hardly. Will he marry Anita (The Face) Colby, with whom he is linked frequently in gossip columns? Of course not. Of all Hollywood's romantic mysteries, the subject of Clark Gable is more intriguing to social reporters every- where than is the next chapter of a radio soap opera to the average housewife. And it is a cinch that should Gable ever suffer a lapse from his obvious intentions and wind up at the altar, they'll all be able to claim that they predicted whom he'd marry. At one time or another every writer on the Hollywood scene has announced that Clark is more serious about one girl than another, so in case of such a cataclysmic event, nobody will make a mistake. What's the answer to Clark Gable's playing the field? It's simple. Clark Gable has been married a few times. He prefers to stay single. And in that last simple statement concerning the big man's preference is the answer to so many of the other mystifying romantic situations in Hollywood. There are some boys and girls out here who run a high fever in their desire, to find and lasso a mate. It's a case of believing Nature Boy's advice about the greatest thing you'll ever learn is to love someone and be loved in return. On the distaff side, Lana Turner has been the prize ex- ample of a girl who wants to be married. She is now Mrs. Topping and, as she says, no doubt for keeps. Be- fore all this, Lana was a great problem to herself, her friends and bosses. If Lana met a nice guy and he pro- posed, the beauty of the idea seemed to intoxicate her. Lana can well thank Louella (Continued on next page) Columnists have been trying to marry off bachelor Jimmy Stewart for years. He dated Myrna Dell three whole months before they were Of all the Hollywood stags, Gable is the most baffling. Among his favorite girl friends are Anita Colby (above), Iris Bynum and Dolly O'Brien, but it's doubtful that any of them will become Mrs. G Cary Grant is another actcr who prefers single harness. Neverthe- less, gossips keep insisting he'll morry his protegee, Betsy Drake. Cary maintains, though, that his interest in the airl is only professional. 55 hollywoods "mystery" romances Howard Duff was on the verge of marrying before the war — the girl wed someone else. Then Duff met Ava Gardner, who'd made two marital mistakes. They became an item. Ronald Reagan is reportedly still carrying the torch for Jane Wyman, but thoy both date others. Ronald's current favorite is Monica Lewis. Here's Jane with Pete Lawford. Parsons for not having made several mistakes. After a couple of wrong tries, Lana had an under- standing with Louella. If she felt that pell-mell urge to rush into marital vows, she'd call Louella. At least twice, she called Louella in the middle of the night to announce that she'd found the right man. AQd from the depths of wisdom founded on long years as a witness to Hollywood heart problems, Louella advised Lana to just kiss this boy goodnight instead of hopping a plane for Las Vegas. In the morning Lana would congratulate herself on a narrow escape, call Louella and thank her. Unlike Louella, there are a number of columnists who are incurably romantic. When they see a nice boy going with a nice girl, they do all they can to aid and abet the romance. That's why all of us so frequently read in the newspapers that this boy is on the verge -of eloping with this girl. Then, a few days later we read, that this boy is going out with some other girl, and we can't figure it out. There's Jimmy Stewart. Poor Jimmy. Every time his friends, fans and columnist historians think about him they picture him as the perfect husband. It's so bad that Jimmy can tell from the look in anyone's eyes exactly when they're going to ask, "Jimmy, when are you going to find the right girl, settle down and get married?" Jimmy never has an answer for that, but like Clark Gable he is in favor of staying single. Not that this idea of his will ever stop people from speculating on each and every girl he dates. For instance, many months ago Sylvia Sidney and Carlton Alsop gave a party. They asked Jimmy and they knew he'd like the charming and talented Myrna Dell. They were right. Jimmy promptly began to date Myrna. They went out together for no less than three months before they were discovered. Now Jimmy wonders whether it was a bright idea to take Myrna to that premiere. Right then a rash of romantic predictions broke out over every typewriter in town. Some columnists were a little ' peeved. They'd been saying that Jimmy was going with someone else, but when Jimmy continued to date Myrna they pegged it as a serious thing. Serious, that is, until he took Gloria McLean to a dinner party. Then Gloria was the secret heart. For everybody's information, Jimmy is not going to marry Gloria or Myrna, either. He still dates Myrna regularly, except that she's very busy at the moment being Johnny Weissmuller's heavy date in Jungle Jim, and they have fewer dates on the golf course than they used to. Until now, the barrage of romantic items has not upset the friendship between Myrna and Jimmy. "I guess," Myrna says, "it's because neither of us bothers to read the papers." Then, when confronted with (Continued on page 86) 56 ■ It goes without saying that lots of- good citizens are going to be outraged by the title of Burt Lancaster's first independent production. Matter of 1 fact, the Johnston office, guardian of sensitivities and morals, banned the title for a while and Burt and his Norma Productions associates changed 'it to something daintier, The Unafraid. Then the Johnston Office reversed the ruling, allowing as how maybe Kiss the Blood Off My Hands was a nice enough name after all. But Burt said thanks, he guessed he'd just leave it as The Unafraid. Came the first sneak preview — and the enthusiastic customers voted three-to-one for shifting back to the original gory title. So Burt, a firm believer in democracy, gave the people just (Oontinued on next page) kiss the blood off my hands" (Continued from preceding page) what they wanted. What's Kiss the Blood Off My Hands all about? Well, lady, it ain't no picnic. The study of a young bully who kills, lies, steals, traffkks in human misery and is finally regenerated by the love of a nice girl just before, presumably, society closes in on him with a noose, this picture is one of the most brutal and shocking ever filmed. Excellently performed and directed, its morbid fascinations will doubtless lead to brisk box-office business. But there are those who will hold that it should never have been released. Some will say that while it does point a moral — that retribution will eventually catch up with evil-doers — yet at the same time it presents as the main character a contemptible rat who, since impersonated by the glamorous Mr. Lancaster, may well be sympathetically looked upon by many impressionable young spectators as an attractively ruthless and possibly model fellow. Be that as it may, Kiss the Blood Off My Hands is a fine example of tight, expert movie-making. Watching its smooth unwinding, you'd never suspect the troubles they had before getting it into the cans. Most movies run into production problems which de- lay scenes, cause absolute standstills, and in general foul up the budget. Kiss the Blood Off My Hands had more than its share. The worst problem was rain, which kept postponing exterior scenes. Next worst was Miss Fontaine's preg- nancy, which she announced after the first week's shooting. This, plus a bad cold, kept her out of action for 12 days in all. It was almost impossible to know if she'd be able to work from one day to the next. Another real problem was Burt's beard. * He wears a four-day stubble in about 40 percent of the film. Several times, in order to keep things rolling along despite Joan's enforced absences, scheduled scenes in which Burt wears stubble had to be postponed in favor of later scenes in which he appears clean-shaven. This meant he had to shave off and then regrow his beard three times. On each occasion it took a week- end. And another problem was presented by Robert Newton, the fine British character actor who plays Harry. Mr. Newton, a cheery, very pleasant man, found it almost impossible to pace his studying to the American idea of speed. He needed at least two days notice on his scenes, or he simply wouldn't know them. Despite these and other headaches, director Norman Foster completed shooting only three days over schedule. Burt's toughest scene was the flogging scene, which was left in the picture only after it had received favor- able sneak preview approval. In order to get the feeling of reality into his facial reactions to pain, Burt actually took twelve licks from the cat-o'-nine-tails. Of course, it was only plain belting, instead of the leaded affairs they use in (Continued on page 92) 1. The lurid Kiss the Blood Off My Hands begins when drifter Bill Saunders (Burt Lancaster), a Canadian ex-war prisoner, kills a London pub proprietor in a brawl, then flees through the waterfront streets. 4. Jane and Bill go to the" races. On the return train, his hot temper leads him to slug another passenger. He leaps from the train, dragging Jane with him. She upbraids him, runs away. He gives chase. 7. Now Harry persuades Bili to steal a truckload of scarce penicillin and sulfa. But Bill finds Jane in the truck, takes her and drugs to vil- lage stricken with scarlet fever. On return trip, they declare their love. 2. Bill gains refuge by breaking info the flat where Jane (Joan Fon- taine), a clinic nurse, lives alone. He threatens her, says he's done no wrong, lets her go off next morning convinced she won't inform police. 5. While chasing Jane, Bill .strikes an interfering policeman, is seized by another, gets six months in jail and 18 lashes. Released, he is approached by Harry (Robert Newton), who witnessed the pub killing. 8. That night, Harry goes to Jane's flat to talk her into joining his gang. She refuses, they struggle, she stabs him with scissors. She tells Bill, who removes the still-alive Harry to a' hideout. He dies. 3. Leaving the flat at nightfall, Bill gets funds by robbery, buys new clothes,- gets shaved. His appearance changed, he feels safe, looks up Jone and gets her, against her judgment, to go out with him. 6. Harry induces him to join him in crime, but after a quarrel over loot from a garage robbery, Bill leaves him. Harry's henchmen try vainly to beat Bill up. Jane gets him a job as clinic truck-driver. 9. Bill arranges with smugglers to take him and Jane to the Con- tinent, steals penicillin to pay. He tells Jane Harry was only wounded. They start for the ship. Jane learns the truth, insists they surrender. Moot/, r slonf«l Qrt ,s'*'Wt " '*»> C u i „ ^urse Glorified»> T, , E T * A Z 2 1 m . 1 tabi«Poon tter ,f;:asp°onsaic * cup Saute m u Papr/ia cur ,n , * Spa^e, write a*. » ;, Ma,ces 4 t0 7m,e"to 0r on your this little voice wentno.no.no! m j shoved it to one side in favor of the prosaic blessing of a little shut-eye for the weary star. Next morning, Beatrice had to call Loretta three times before she got up. And then there was such a dither and a bustle to get her off so she wouldn't be late on the set that Beatrice completely forgot to tell her about the novelist's call. Thus it wasn't until quite some time later, when Loretta had returned to Hollywood, that she discovered that the writer, in a towering passion at not seeing her, had gone back to the film capital figuratively, chew- ing on his manuscript and spitting out whole chapters along the railroad tracks. This she learned when she chanced to encounter him at a Beverly Hills parking lot. He roared his indignation. Loretta apologized deeply, explaining she'd never been told of his call. (In a few moments, naturally, the fellow was beaming and purring.) Loretta was darned provoked as she started for home. Why on earth hadn't Beatrice called her? She was going to tell that maid a thing or two! But on the way back she began to think of how she had felt that night in Oregon, how bone-tired she'd been, how refreshed by the uninterrupted sleep. . . . By the time she got home . . . well, the maid greeted her and Loretta replied with a warm smile. Then, as she started up the stairs, she turned back. "Beatrice," she said, "I want you to know something. I think you're a jewel!" Loretta Young, you see, has a conscience. A "wiggling, loud" conscience, she calls it. Let her try to act hastily in a situation without thinking things through, and her conscience gets right up and hollers'. Let her try to (Continued on page 95) Loretta was known as Gretchen Young when she began her career at 5. Silent star Colleen Moore suggested the new name. "Gretch," as her friends still call her, has been Mrs. Tom Lewis since 1940, has 3 kids. Rachel and the Stranger is No. 68 Such a Wrap-turous gift -—and it's Dan River fabric! Wrap her in this Swirl for Christmas— everything from gadabout dress to fireside housecoat in one. Of Dan River's famed Starspun,. cotton just agog with holiday spirits. Completely washable— pre-shrunk*, fast color. Dan River Mills, Inc. Swirl (one button in back, ties in front), a "Neat 'n Tidy" product by L. Nachman & Sons. Sizes 12 to 20. About $9 at Marshall Field & Company, Chicago; B. Altaian & Co., New York; Hudson's, Detroit. holiday fashions CONNIE BARTEL, FASHION EDITOR ■ Christmas ! The stir and urge of bells ; the insistent pungence of evergreens ; the white whirl of snowfiakes. And — the heady yen t(j wear your spirit on the outside as well as in, to pin some holly in your hair — to wear some thing red, something green, to glitter — yes, like a Christmas tree. To help you glow as brightly as any holiday candle, and to indulge your pressed down and overflowing impulse to gift everyone you know, this month's fashions are aimed both at you and the friends youll give presents. The holiday clothes Peggy Cummins wears on the next three pages, for example, we picked for you to wear to all those parties you have scheduled. The ski clothes Ella Raines models we thought you might use as a hint 'to your mother, your husband, your rich uncle, or anybody else who's wondering what to give you. As for the glamorous accessories on pages 68 and 70, each one of them can add the final holi- day touch to any of your costumes; all of them will make exciting gifts to your friends. Need we remind you that there's not a minute to lose in ordering, if you want your holiday loot by the twenty-fifth? So -let the Christmas . spirit enter in, let joy be unconfined, and get out that gift list. peggy cummins says merry christmas and looks the part ■ Peggy Cummins, currently il Europe making "Autumn Violins" for Alexander Korda, looks gay as a gift-wrap in holiday red, green and gold. Know a sweater girl? Give her the sweater with the gold yoke. It's all wool, the tinsel won't tarnish. Green, royal blue, black or grey. By Feathe'rknits— $3.98. Know a girl who goes to lots of formals? Try the gold mesh gloves. They're hand crocheted, won't tar- nish. Also in bronze, silver or gun metal. By Aris— $4.98. Know a bracelet fan? Give her Peggy's gold birdcage bracelet, and watch her swoon. The dangling gold birdcage is filled with colored stones j — and it's the sensation of jewel collectors. By Coro — $4.98, plus tax., j All these are at Oppenheim Col lins, New York — and other stores page 72. 1 Pi istmas dates the dress with If there was ever a girl born to wear perky, come-and-get-me date clothes, it's Peggy Cummins. At right she wears a dreamy holiday suit in tiny-checked green and black iridescent taffeta. The collar and peplum are fringed in black, the buttons are jet. Also rose or royal checks. Sizes 9-15. By Dorris Varnum for Jonathan Logan, $17.95. At Best & Co., New York; other store information page 72. 64 1 Cute Peggy Cummins demonstrates a boy's idea of how a girl should look on a holiday date — gay and a little bit saucy. Her pert one-piece dress has a plaid taffeta skirt with apron back — flippant as anything. The black faille bodice buttons to a little collar, tied with plaid. Sizes 7- IS. By Nan Scott Jr., $14.95. At John Wanamaker, New York, other stores page 72. follow -me : i 65 ella raines makes like a pro on the slopes — she's that crazy about skiing. You can tell she's expert by the way she wears ski clothes — this St. Moritz-y looking parka, for example. It's natural colored Zelan-treated gabardine with a cotton fleece lining and vicuna fur to snuggle your ears and chin. Sizes 10-20. By White Mountain. $12.95. Arnold Constable, N. Y., other stores page 72. ■ Ella Raines, star of Columbia's forthcoming The Walking Hills, really skis a mean Christie whenever she can find some snow. Right, she wears a streamlined cotton gabardine ski suit with zipper front and pockets. Your choice of navy, black, green or brown with white yoke; or black, navy, green, grey with red yoke. Sizes 10-20. By Davis Sportswear. About $25. Arnold Constable, N. Y., other stores page 72. !. Nylon lace stockings, very cheesecake! They're Mojud's Fantasy, and they can't run. $2.25. 2. Glowing bronze dress-up belt. It's metallic and sparkles like crazy. By Garay. $1. 3. Rhinestone and pearl pin and earring set. Gold or silver. By Dona. $1.98* per set. 4. Pearl-centered gold metal compact, squared off in filigree. Looks expensive! By Wadsworth. $3*. 5. Fluffy angora mittens, sprinkled with twinkling colored sequins. By American Knit Gloves. $3.50. 6. White bunny fur scarf and muff trimmed with gold braid. Each $4. Fur headband in white, black or brown, $2. By Douglas of California. 7. Dreamy pearl and gold heart bracelet. By Karu. $2.98*. For where to buy see pages 72 and 73. *Plus tax. with fancy nylon trim Here's a trio of styles that will make an ideal gift . . . individually or as a set. Each is made of luxurious runproof rayon, trimmed with fancy nylon for that added touch of femininity. See them at your- favorite store. In pink, whit; btut, black. 8950 - GOWN - $3.98 Sam 32 to 40 Prices slightly higher in the West No. 8556 — SUP — $2.98 Sum 32 to 44 No. 8532 - PANTY - $1 .50 Sizes 4 to 8 UNDIES • DIVISION OF McKAY PRODUCTS CORP. SLIPS • GOWNS • 350 Fifth Avenue • Creators of the Famous 1 \ New York I, N. Y. is she dashing? give her . . . 1. Sterling key chain with St. Christopher medal. $3.50. 2. Sporty wool gloves with pigskin palms. By Wear-Right. $4.98. 3. Swanky grey sharkskin overnight case trimmed and lined in bright red. It's 18", comes in many colors with contrasting leather trim. By Skyway. $18.* Leather dog-leash belt all colors. By Vogue. $1.95. Fake fur scarf — veddy smart. Baronduki printed fabric, bright lining. By Glentex. $1. 6. Fake leopard vest — in lush printed plush. By Langail. $8. 7. New smaller handbag. Genuine split cowhide envelope, gold edge. Red, green, black. By Kadin. $2.98* 8. Bright suede belt edged with gold beads. By Criterion. $2. 9. Morocco leather change purse. Opens flat into roomy wallet. Red, black, brown, with name. $4.25. For where to buy see page 73 *Plus tax. give her a slip for the girl who likes polka dots . . Sweet sprinkling of embroidered dots on bodice and flounce. Fine crepe in heavenly colors — yellow, blue, pink, white. A Powers Model Slip, $3.98. At Kauf mann's, Pittsburgh. for the girl who likes hqlf-slips . . Flared version with deep frou-frou flounce of crisp Alencon-type lace. In Burmil rayon crepe, white or shell pink. By Seamprufe, $3.95. At Blooming- dale's, New York. These MAN-MADE ALLIGATORS with 4-inch SKY-HIGH heels will set your budget singing a happy melody! Shoes and Bag Available in RED • GREEN • BROWN Also Black or Brown Suede Finish Sizes 2'/} to 10. B Width; 6 to 9, AA Width MATCHING HANDBAG $1.99 B piu» Stores in principal cities ORDER BY MAIL Send check or money order and we'll pay postage Please send me. MARY JANE SHOES, 119 Beach St., Boston, Mass., Dept. MSC-12 prs. of High Notes at $3.99 pr. Style Name Color & Material (1st choice) Color & Material (2nd choice) Size Width A. CAMEO B. CELLINI Please send me. . .matching bags at $1.99 plus tax ($2.39 total) Color Name □ Check Address □ Money Order City Zone .... State □ C. O. D. When ordering C. O. O. customer agrees to pay all charges. 71 ^L^ou 're glamorously, alluringly feminine in your Merry -Go -Round bra. Parented Circular Stitching, plus bias, plus faggoted seams accentuate the small bust — minimize the full bust. New ! Peter Pan pre tested ^Sf SHRINKAGE-CONTROL i^jjl Fit and Lift won't wash out! PETER P makes Figure problem ? For FREE booklet, "Your New Guide to Bustline Beauty, " write Peter Pan, Dept. D-9 , 312 Fifth Avenue, New York I, N. Y. Merry-Co-Round of Canada. 3643 St. Lawrence Blvd., Montreal ORDER BY MAIL FROM HOUYWOOD i ! i \ \ Gold«n plotform* lopped with Huffy real bunny fur to flatter your toes. Luxurious in Bunny White, Ice Blue, Baby Pink, Red, and Royal. Sizes 3 to 9, Medium Width. Gift orders filled promptly. Of HOUYWOOD 72 Your lashes look longer in just one minute! New Purse-Style Kurlash Only sixty seconds — and your lashes look longer, more luxuriant, your eyes mysteriously larger! Just use the new PURSE-STYLE KUKLASli, the patented eyelash curler. Easy-to-use KURLASH is the glamour secret of famous models and movie stars. Curls your lashes gently against a soft rubber cushion. New PURSE-STYLE KURLASH folds into a smart plastic case, tucks into your bag like your lipstick! At all cosmetic counters. ..81.25 Standard Model KURLASH . ..$1 KURLASH ROCHESTER, NEW YORK COPf). I»4« THE KURLASH CO., INC. WHERE YOU CAN BUY (Prices on merchandise may vary throughout country I Green and gold sweater, gold mesh gloves and birdcage bracelet worn by Peggy Cummins in the full color photograph (page 63) all at: Los Angeles, Calif. — The Broadway Dept. Store, Broadway & 4th Sts. New York, N. Y. — Oppenheim Collins, 33 W. 34th St. Iridescent checked taffeta suit, fringe trim, worn by Peggy Cummins (page 64) New York, N. Y. — Best & Co., 51st St & 5th' Ave., Young Cosmopolitan Shop, 6th fl. Plaid taffeta and black faille dress worn by Peggy Cummins (page 65) Albany, N. Y.—Cotrell & Leonard, 472 Broadway Charlotte, N. C.—Belk Bros.— and all Belk and Leggett stores throughout Southeastern united States Cincinnati, O.—The H. & S. Pogue Co., 4th & Race Sts., Junior Miss Shop, 3d fl. Los Angeles, Calif. — Desmond's, 616 Broadway, Woman's Shop New York, N. Y. — John Wanamaker, . Broadway & 9th St., Mimi Shop, 3rd fl. Scranton, Pa. — The Heinz Store Springfield, Mass. — Forbes & Wallace, 1414 Main St., Debonnaire Shop, 2nd fl. Hooded parka with vicuna -far trim worn by Ella Raines (page 66) Chicago, JJ11 — Mandel Brothers, State & Madison Sts. Detroit, Mich. — Peters Sport Apparel? 1228 Griswold Ave. New York, N. Y. — Arnold Constable, 5th Ave. & 40th St. Cotton gabardine ski suit with zipper pockets worn by Ella Raines (page 67) Brooklyn, N. Y.—Loeser's, 484 Fulton St. Buffalo, N. Y. — Adam, Meldrum & An- derson Co., 398 Main St. Detroit, Mich.— Crowley, Milner & Co., Gratiot Ave. Hartford, Conn. — Brown Thomson, Inc., 920 Main St. New York, N. Y.~Amold Constable, 5th Ave. & 40th St. MODERN SCREEN CHRISTMAS GIFTS Gifts for the glamorous gal (page 68) 1. Nylon lace stockings Boston, Mass. — Jordan Marsh Co., Washington & Avon Sts. New York, N. Y. — Franklin Simon, 5th Ave. & 38th St. 2. Bronze metallic belt Pittsburgh, Pa. — Joseph Home Co., Penn- ' sylvania Ave. 3. Matching pin and earrings set Grand Rapids, Mich. — Herpolsheimer's, 101 Monroe Ave. New York, N. Y.—Saks-34th, 34th St. & Broadway 4. Gold compact with pearl and filigree design New York, N. Y.— Arnold Constable, 5th Ave. & 40th St. Philadelphia, Pa. — Lit Bros., Market & 8th Sts. MODERN SCREEN FASHIONS 5. Angora mittens with sequin trim New York, N. Y.— Bloomingdale's, 59th St. & Lexington Ave. 6. Bunny fur headband, scarf and muff with braid trim Cleveland, Ohio— The May Co., Euclid & Ontario Sts. Detroit, Mich. — Himelhoch's, 1545 Wood- ward Ave. New York, N. Y. — Oppenheim Collins, 33 W. 34th St. 7. Pearl and gold heart bracelet Brooklyn, N. Y. — Namm's, 452 Fulton St. New York, N.Y.— Stern's, 41 W. 42nd St. Gifts for the dashing gal fpage 70) 1. St. Christopher key chain Order by mail from: H. E. Associates, 223 E. 50th St., New York 22, N. Y. (Postage included in price) 2. Pigskin palm gloves New York, N. Y. — Oppenheim Collins, 33 W. ^4th St. Philadelphia, Pa. — Lit Bros., Market & 8th Sts. 3. Sharkskin overnight case Dallas, Tex— Neiman Marcus, Main & Ervay Sts. San Francisco, Calif .—City of Paris Dry Goods Co., Geary & Stockton Sts. 4. Leather dog-leash belt New York, N. Y.—Bond Fifth Ave., 5th Ave. & 35th St. 5. Fake fur baronduki scarf Fort Worth, Tex.— The Fair New York, N. Y. — McCreery's, 5th Ave. & 34th St. 6. Fake leopard vest Brooklyn, N. Y. — Martin's, 501 Fulton. St. New York, N. Y. — Macy's, Herald Square Portland, Ore.— Chas. F. Berg Co., 615 S. Broadway 7. Split cowhide envelope handbag Columbus, Ohio — F. & R. Lazarus & Co., High & Town Sts. New York, N. Y. — Oppenheim Collins, 33 W. 34th St. 8. Suede belt edged with gold beads New York, N. Y.—Gimbels, 33rd St. & Ave. of Americas 9. Combination wallet and change purse Order by mail from: Crovm Craft Products, 246 5th Ave., New York 1, N. Y. (Postage included in price) How to Order Modern Screen Fashions (1) Buy in person from stores listed. (2) Order by mail from stores listed. (3) Write Connie Bartel, Modem Screen, Box 125, Murray Hill Sta- tion, New York 16, N. Y. — for store in your vicinity. e£T Vl£l> for the VlGTA, In White, Red. Picture of Teena in Growing Girls' sizes 4 to 8. Oh so ducky. In White, Red. £ Picture of Donald fr Duck in Misses' sizes 13 to 3. VICKI OF BOSTON 89 BEACH STREET, BOSTON. MASS. Please send me boots: D. □ E. □ F. □ @ $3.98 Size Color , NAME. ADDRESS- CITY _STATE_ Send check or money order and ice uill pay postage. Customer agrees to pay all charges on C.O.D.'s. Mosey with Mickyl In White, Red. Picture of Mickey Mouse in Child's sizes 6 to 12. *3 9S CHEESEHEAD AND CO. (Continued jrom page 39) cabinet — excuse please, the plane — is han- gared in Glenn's upstairs study, Glenn's favorite room. This is quite a place. An electric train with three tracks runs under the chairs and around the tables. "That's for the little boy," Ellie told us. We nodded understandingly as Glenn turned on the switch. Every wall in the room is shelved with records. There's a glass case in the cor- ner where Glenn keeps his gun. (It's always locked so Peter won't put inquir- ing fingers on it.) There are also sun lamps, books, cowboy boots, and an ice cream bar. An autographed picture of the late President Roosevelt stands on Glenn's desk. Sitting next to this sleek mahogany desk is a battered-looking table. The leather is almost gone from its top and if you blow hard its legs quiver. Each year Ellie decides to get rid of it as her first contribution to spring house- cleaning. And each year Glenn gallops down the hill after the dealer's truck and manages to retrieve it. The clock on the mantel struck five and a cool breeze could be felt from the ocean. Glenn lighted the large open fireplace. Ellie joined us on the floor before it and helped select records from the albums. Some were labeled Eleanor Powell and some Glenn Ford. "How come?" we asked. "Both Glenn and I are record collectors from way back. I had 5,000 discs B. G. — Before Glenn— and he had 3,000. I often think he just proposed so we could merge our record collection." "Tain't so," Glenn chimed in. "You know I married you for your cheesecake — the kind you eat." Ellie looked at Glenn and a smile started rolling up her cheeks. It was a family joke. When Glenn had his first date with Ellie, they didn't go dining or dancing, but spent the evening at her home. They had dinner there — and what a wonderful dinner! For des- sert Ellie served what turned out to be Glenn's favorite dish — cheesecake. "I decided she was the girl for me the moment I tasted it," said Glenni "I didn't learn until later that the cheesecake was the contribution of Ellie's cook, Agnes Clark, to the romance. Aggie has bean with her since 1936. So when we were married, I got not only the cheesecake, but Aggie as well." We can vouch for Agnes' cooking. The dinner we had would have driven a cal- orie-watcher mad. There was rare roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, little creamed onions and — of course! — cheesecake. (Only the week before, the Fords' next-door neighbors, the James Masons, had visited them, and they too pronounced the pud- ding splendid.) We finally pushed away from the table and were steered into the living room. The thing that impresses you here is that there are two of everything. Two antique chests flank the fireplace, two love seats, two radios and even two mirror-topped coffee tables. On the latter there are two silver match boxes — one inscribed Ellie and the other Glenn. Glenn was busy getting out -the home projector and Peter asked if he could see the Bugs Bunny cartoon first. Glenn and Pete had a little trouble getting the screen set up because the radios were in the way. The Fords are radio addicts. They have one in every room, including the garage and the baths. After we'd seen Bugs Bunny it was pretty late for Pete, so Ellie took him up to bed. We tagged along. Peter's room is filled with dozens of toys. A colorful parade oi elephants runs along the wallpaper. There's an alcove which houses a refrigerator and a sink, also a tiny bed which Peter has outgrown. "Will you tell me a goodnight story?" he asked. Although he's only three, he talks very plainly. Ellie handed him his favorite toy, but- ton-eyed Toto the Clown — several inches taller than he. And began telling him about the gallant knight and the fair lady. Glenn had the film changed by the time we returned downstairs. He ran a print of Fighting Lady. Afterwards we sat around and talked — about everything from fishing to Ellie's forthcoming dance tour. Then all of a sudden it was 11:30. Bed- time. We had just settled into our extra long, extra wide bed when there was a knock on the door. And in came Ellie, with two delectable nightcaps for us — double - strength vanilla malteds! Have we already said something about perfect hospitality? Next morning we were awakened by a clanging noise and Peter's voice calling, "Hi-ho, Silver, aWay!" He sounded near- by. He was; — just outside our door. He was riding a pinto rocking horse, covered with real pony's hair, and shoot- ing bandits down the hallway. When he saw us he forgot his man-hunt. Stepping over his lifeless victims, he accompanied us downstairs to breakfast on the patio. Ellie and Glenn were waiting. The patio is rosy brick with wrought- iron furniture. It opens off the living room and overlooks a well-landscaped yard. Tall pine and eucalyptus trees skirt the grounds and provide a forest-like setting. This is only one of the Fords' yards. To the right of the patio and through a white picket gate is still another. Here there is a greenhouse which contains Glenn's prize tuberoses. There's also a pint-sized swimming pool for Cheesehead and a much-used badminton court. Glenn's a whiz at the game. (Ask his regular opponents, Bill Holden, William Wyler and Mark Stevens.) It helps him keep his trim, 165-pound frame as well as his year-round tan. Although Glenn is a kind and thought- ful guy, once he steps on the badminton court he's a demon with the racket. If we were in the rear, he'd hit one just over the net. If we were by the net, the bird would soar over our heads. He took high glee and even higher aim in spotting the bird just a little too high for our 5- ■ foot-2 frames. (He beat us 20 to 4!) Later in the day, Ellie let Peter go in swimming. The pool is about the size of a goldfish pond and only three feet deep. Peter was splashing noisily about play- ing "Whee." This is a game Glenn and Pete invented. Pete floats in the water until the count of three — then Glenn says "Whee," and Peter makes like a rotary eggbeater. Ellie came out of the house bearing double-dip . chocolate ice-cream cones. Seeing her, Peter^ scampered out of the water and flung wet arms around her waist. "Mommy, I love you, I love you!" "Is it just because I have my hands full of ice cream?" "No. I love you so much I want to crack your head open so I can pour all the love in." "Violent child you have there, Mrs. Ford," said Glenn, beaming. "And to think you were afraid if we had a boy he wouldn't be affectionate." He turned to us. "You know, Ellie's so soft-hearted she makes me be the heavy when it comes to disciplining Pete. The worst thing you can do to him is to send him to bed with- out saying goodnight. Peter's favorite expression is, Tiet's not tell Daddy, shall we?' But Cheesehead really isn't much of a problem." With this, Glenn abruptly picked up Cheesehead and swung him around in the air. Pete squealed with delight and Ellie got that be-careful look all mothers get. It was a perfect picture. It was a per- fect weekend. The End MODERN SCREEN Cream Wafer " Face Make -Up by REVLON PHOTOGRAPH : BAWUNSS JEWELS: MILTON BCHKPPS IT'S GOING PLACES . . . in the smartest handbags! It's designed to keep the poreless-as-porcelain perfection of the "Fashion Plate" complexion at your fingertips . . . always. JUST FINGER-STROKE IT ON. Not a cake, "Fashion Plate" needs no water or sponge. It ends the old-fashioned, dry, mask-y look! Choose from exclusive fashion-genius colors. The great new fashion in make-up! New vanity-case size 1.00 plus tax Are you in the know ? For the pale hands he loves, try — □ Bleaching /of/on [~~] Moon magic D Dusky lacquer You're the romantic type, now! With a fragile, "ladylike" look, even to vour pastel fingernails. That calls for careful mani- cures—moons and tips showing. Here's how: Outline moon with enamel; paint rest of nail completely. Then, while enam- el's wet, "thumb off" a rounded nail tip. Depth of moon should suit your individual nail. Just as — on "those" days — your needs should guide your choice of napkins. Try Kotex — 3 absorbencies to choose from. What's the Jinx in this jalopy ? The cuddle couple fj The boogie blast D Four's a crowd Joy ride? Uh-uh. For here, sav safety experts, are the makings of a crash land- ing! (See all answers above.) The car's crowded: bad for careful driving. The raucous music adds more distraction. Any- way, how can a highway romeo keep his mind on the road? Sharp gals will avoid these hazards; take no risks. Even of prob- lem-day accidents. And that's why thev choose Kotex ... its exclusive safety center means extra protection! When giving a party, which is important? □ Fancy refreshments □ Banishing the family O Keeping your guests busy To save your party from the floperoo brackets it doesn't take caterer's chow . . . or shooing Mom to the movies. Plan the doings. Have records handy. Provide the "props" for games. At Christmas, let your guests trim the tree; anything to keep them busy. And should your calendar suddenly betray you, don't be a blu gnu! Turn to Kotex, for comfort. For softness that holds its shape. In short, be carefree with the new Kotex — made to stay soft while you wear it. And happy hostessing to you! Afore wo/nen choose \ a// other san/fary n#/?/c/hs 3 ABSORBENCIES: REGULAR, JUWOR. SUPER If your back's blemished/ what's best? □ A white hanky □ A rain check □ A stole Stoles for your strapless frocks are high fashion . . . not meant for hiding hickevs! And you can't "un-date" at zero hour. Why wait 'til dance night to cover back break-outs? Start davs ahead, with anti- septic—plus white hanky, pinned to shoul- derstraps. Worn beneath school dresses, the medicated "goo" works while you grind! Never fret about how to conceal "certain" outlines — with Kotex. Those flat pressed ends prevent outlines; protect you — all ways! Why does a gal buy 2 sanitary belts? D For exfro security □ For that "bandbox" feeling □ One belt's for her sister Next time you're dressing for a date — donning fresh undies, a charming frock — you'll want a change of sanitary belts. Yes, for that crisp, "bandbox feeling" you need two Kotex Sanitary Belts, for a change. You know, the Kotex Belt is made to lie flat, without twisting or curling. And be- cause it's adjustable, all-elas- tic, your Kotex Belt fits smoothly; doesn't bind. So — for more comfort, buy the new Kotex Sanitary Belt. And buy two —for a change! Kotex Sanitary Belt Buy TWO — by name/ the fans MODERN SCREEN FAN CLUB ASSOCIATION News: Bob Atcher Club is convention- minded. Also looking for a new name for their journal . . . Rex Allen Clubbers are calling on the entire MSFCA to help one of their members, Paul Nelson, Jr., injured in an accident, and now unable to move about unless you can help buy Paul his own am- bulance station wagon. Several businessmen have started the fun and you may add to it by mailing contributions to Peter Burowski, pres. of Cosmopolitan Bank, Chicago, 111. ... To celebrate the first anniversary of her j club, honorary Joan Fulton is sending every | member an autographed 8x10 photo . . . Any j qualified person who wants to start a club for Jack Smith in L. A. can write to Delores Feeney, 1827 South Bronson, L. A. 6, Calif. When Bing Crosby" couldn't appear in person to accept a music award in Grand Central Palace, N. Y., he designated Terry DiFrancesco, prexy of the Bingites, as the most proper person for the job . . . Due to illness, Joan Travnicek has turned her Perry Como Club over to Margaret Staley's Como Cream City Club . . . Over 140 members at- tended the Sleepy Hollow Club outing at Sleepy Hollow Ranch, and 40 new members were signed up in one afternoon . . . Harriet Denahy is the new prexy of Arthur Neal's Club . . . Jean Cosenza of Brooklyn enter- tained her honorary, Sammy Solo, and his secretary in her home. Memberships: Bobbie Meltzer is offering a free membership in her Stuart Foster club to i anyone donating baby food or baby clothing money for the club's adopted French orphan. Her address is 110 Riverside Dr., New York 24, N. Y. . . . Marie Johnson is giving away 50 free memberships in her Jayne Meadows Club to the first 50 who write her at 261 E. Duval St., Phila. 44, Pa. Mention Modern Screen . . . Anyone who brings six new mem- bers into the Darryl Hickman Club gets a year's privileges free . . . Philip Reed Club (Virginia Golz, 41 Ripley St., Somerset, Mass.) wants three new members from any foreign country except Great Britain. They'll be admitted free. If you're a fan of Donna Atwood, the fig- ure skating champ and Ice Capades star, and you'd like to start a club for her, write to Peggy Pearl, 2229A Oregon, St. Louis 4, Mo. You must live in one of the cities where the Ice Capades appears every year, and you must list your qualifications, stating whether you have a typewriter, can borrow a mimeo, etc. . . . The new James Melton Journal will be a music magazine as well as a Melton fan mag ... If you join the Barbara Lawrence Club before Dec. 31 and mention MS, you'll receive five extra snaps absolutely free. Address Mrs. Katherine Galloway, 3658 McGill Road, Jackson, Mich. . . . First 10 Como fans in the Detroit area who contact Shirley Wiers, 6645 Pelham, Allen Pk., Mich., will re- ceive a half -rate membership. (This club was formerly piloted by Betty Schwarz.) . . . Marce- line Sonenberg, 1548 N. Honore St., Chicago, 111., is offering free memberships in her Lloyd Bridges Club to the first five fans from any state except Illinois . . . Member who brings the most new Ted Steele fans into Ada Rub- SHIRLEY FROHLICH director GLORIA LAM PERT associate ins' Club gets a personally dedicated record- ing by Ted. . . . First 50 shut-ins who write Ann Bellino, 1267 Addison St., Berkeley 2, Calif., will re- ceive free memberships in her Alan Ladd Club Tito Guizar is offering a $500 Mexican outfit to first-prize-winner in club's membership contest. . . . Dick Haymes Associates still agog over Dick's visit to New York. He was so-o-o-o co- operative . . . Official Dick Jaeckel Club, former MSFCA Trophy winner, is reorganizing, under Louise Warnes' direction . . . Leota Carter is looking for new prexy for her Cliff Johnson Club. If you're interested, send your qualifica- tions to Leota at 1001 Lyon Street, Des Moines 16, Iowa . . . Officers of the two official Nelson Eddy Clubs would like it known that there are only two clubs exclusively for Nelson: the International, presided over by the Nich- olins, and the Music Club, piloted by the Mottolas . . . Recommended to Canadian clubs for journalwork: Peerless Fan Club Service, 171 Talbot St., North, Simcoe, Ontario. Write for details, price list, samples, etc., before sending order . . . Dorothy Fenger has sent up a "Movie Fan Diary," a printed diary which helps you keep a record of every movie you've seen during the year, and im- portant facts about them. Very useful and handsome, too. They're $1 each, only 85 cents to fan club members. Her address is: 1402 Superior Ave., Sheboygan, Mich. 8 SEMI-ANNUAL TROPHY CUP CONTEST (4TH LAP) Did you write an article or poem for your club journal this month? We have a lovely Helena Rubinstein Fourcast lipstick set for you, if you are a winner in our "This Is My Best" contest. The set has four luscious shades for your particular coloring! Club artists can compete for those handsome Tan- gee Trip Kits, each one packed with super Tangee products, including powder, base, astringent, rouge, etc. And don't forget, there are also smooth-as-silk Eberhard Faber Pen and Pencil sets that write like a dream and are absolutely guaranteed. Subscriptions to all Dell magazines are waiting to be won by you and you and you! This Is My Best: (100 points) "Why," Miriam Budnick, Morgan Memos. "Sensational Team," Dorothy Vincent, Rae-Lowery journal. "Why Fan Clubs Help Frank," Eva Smith, Voice Parade. "My Visit to U-I," Lyn Ricker, Joan Caullield journal. "Is It All An Act," Robert Spearin, Ron Randell Roundtable. "Let's Visit Gloucester," Jean Doyle and Mary Perry, Warren Douglas journal. Best Journals: (500 points) League 1, no entries. League 2, Joan Crawford journal. League 3 (tied), Nina Foch journal, June AUyson journal, "Musical Echoes," (Riley). Best Editing: (250 points) League 1, no entries. League 2, Kit Pritchett, Morgan Memos. League 3, Dot Reisser, Musical Harvest. Best Covers: (250 points) League 1. no entries. League 2 (tied) Velvet Fog and Morgan Memos. League 3 (tied) Walsh Watch and Hickman (Reeks) journal. Best Art Work: (150 points) Lu- cille Bishop, Musical Harvest (Melton journal). Membership Increases: (100 points) League 1, Reno Brown Club. League 2. Mel Torme Club. League 3, June Allyson Club. Most Worthwhile Activities: (250 points) League 1, no entries. League 2, Ginger Rogers Club (sent food packages to Europe). League 3, (tied) Barbara Lawrence Club (sent CARE package to England) and Bing- ites (collected 3,500 stamps to be sent to VA hospital in Castle Point). Best Correspondents: (50 points), League 1, none qualified. League 2, Lorraine Paxton, Sleepy Hollow Club. League 3. Flo Steingraber, Joseph Cotten Club. Candid Cam- era Contest (100 points to 1st prize winner, 50 to others). Lee Dyer, Rand Brooks Club. Nelda Clough, Charles Korvin, Joyce Moison, Sinatra Club. Isabel Lee, Bob Crosby Club. Dorothy Nix, Sinatra (McMullen Club), Flo Zomak, Mel Torme. ' 1 ^ t* '»Si> The lift that neuer lets you damn Your dainty "Perma-lift"*bra is specially constructed to add allure to your youthful figure. The exclusive cushion insets at the base of the bra cups gently and healthfully support your bust from below, never lose that support through countless washings and wear. Lovely new styles at your favorite cor- setiere. $1.50 to $3.50. Buy America's Favorite bra today. 77 -OMKU* A FULL 220 INCHES T OF MAGNIFICENT SWEEP! Styled by You never paid so little for a dress so grand in manner. . . so superb for that important date. Skirt swirls out in tre- mendous sweep of full 220 inches, giving this dress a regal air that makes you Queen anywhere you go! Comfortable envelope sleeves— hand- some gold-covered belt. Fashioned in Luana Rayon Faille ... in Jewel Tones for Fall and Winter— Peacock Royal, Grey, Kelly, Black. Junior Sizes: 9 to 15. Misses: 10 to J6, You know your best friend's size. Wouldn't this make a delightfully different Christmas gift for her? ? SEND NO MONEY! SENT ON APPROVAL! JONAS SHOfPES, Dept. MS-128 ^ Sixth Ave. at 14th St., New York 11, N. Y. Send me my Swirl -away Dress in size I 1st Color Choice 2nd Color Choice □ SEND CO. D.— I'll pay postage. m □ PAYMENT ENCLOSED-You pay postage. | In either ease, if not entirely delighted, I may re- turn it within 5 days for complete refund. _ Name- Address. City- -Zone State. B A RBIZON MODEL Joan Con roy says, "Minipoo freshens hair between water shampoos ' Lovely Barbizon School models have shining hair always. They learn that between water sham- poos Minipoo removes oil, dirt and hair odors, leaves wave in- tact! Easy to use with handy mitt — no soap, water, drying! At all drug and cosmetic counters Cosmetic Distributors, Jersey City, N. J. Chris Holly says, "No shampoo colds washing with dry Minipoo!"' BARBIZON MODEL Betty Ellen says, "When time's' short, Minipoo does the trick!" 78 10 MINUTE DRY SHAMPOO 30 Shampoos and Handy Mitt in Each Package new faces MICHAEL NORTH re- turned to Hollywood after his discharge from the Navy to take up the career he'd started seven years before. Mike was born of theatrical parents in Topeka, Kansas, in 1918, and made his debut at the age of 12. Graduating from the University of Kansas in 1938, Mike went straight to Hollywood. The war intervened and North got his first role seven years later when Mike Curtiz cast him in The Unsuspected. He's 6' 2", has blond hair and blue . eyes and is unmarried. CATHY O'DONNELL whom you remember in The Best Years of Our Lives was born July 6, 1923, near Birmingham, Ala- bama. Her father was a school teacher and operated the town's only theater. Cathy enrolled in the dra- \ matic course at the University of Oklahoma. Later, on a $90 a month job, she saved enough to venture to Hollywood. Ben Med- ford, Goldwyn agent, discovered her in Schwab's drugstore. Cathy has brown hair and brown eyes, is married to Robert Wyler and will soon be seen in The Twisted Road. doris day who was born in Cincinnati, 0. on April 3, 1924, first started out in life to become a dancer. She was doing well, too, when a nasty auto ac- cident broke both her legs and kept her in the hospital for over 14 months . . . Doris started singing just to escape boredom but wound up as a better singer than dancer. Working in night clubs and hotels, she signed with Bob Crosby's band and then j with Frank Sinatra on the Hit Parade. Mike Curtiz gave her a movie contract. She made her debut in Romance on the High Seas. Doris is 5' 5" and weighs 125 lbs. Married to George Weidler, has 1 child. GERALDINE BROOKS doesn't come from a long line of actors, but her father is the foremost theatrical costumer in the world (Brooks Costumes) . Her first theatrical role was in the Broad- way musical, Follow the Girls. Born in N. Y. C. Oct. 29, 1925, and went to Jidia Richman High and the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. Geraldine made her movie debut in Cry Wolf with Errol Flynn. She's 5' 2", weighs 100 lbs, and her latest is Embraceable You. THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES (Continued from page 42) "I just want to have a little house, a big library and a middle-sized wife." That afternoon he was crossing the campus when (as has been written be- fore) he was asked to take part in a school play. Had he not felt discouraged and at j a completely loose end, his reply would have been, "No." He had no interest in acting; had never given any thought to it. But now, with fate having gotten to him that morning and placed him in a recep- tive mood for anything, it was "Yes." That's what Gregory means. Actors are often overly moody. Greg- ory isn't. He set himself against this kind of softness when . . . well, let's see this particular phase of his character get its initial shaping-up. Gregory, a 13-year-old boy in a gym suit, stands all alone in the basketball court of the San Diego Athletic Club. He is making some half-hearted shots with a basketball. After a while he lets the ball go and just watches it bounce aimlessly away to roll to the edge of the floor finally and lie still. so very sad . . . He is a boy lost in thought. He is thinking it was a dizzy idea to come to the club at all; not another boy was there, of course. What other boy would be there on such a holiday? What other boy lived just with his father who worked nights and came home mornings for merely a brief greeting before going to bed? What other boy in the whole world felt so much alone, especially on big days like . . . well, what other boy had to face such a sad, lonesome Thanksgiving Day? He finds no answer to any of these questions. Slowly he trudges off the floor and through the dark, crooked corridor that leads to the locker room. There he slumps down on a bench, unlaces his worn sneakers and begins peeling away spiritlessly at his tight woolen socks. After a while, as he sits there, he is crying. ... Gregory Peck has never forgotten the hollow echo of the basketball that Thanksgiving. As far as he is concerned, it wins the palm for sounds steeped in pure melancholy. But now comes Act Two. It burst upon Gregory when he left the club and ar- rived home an hour or so later. Relatives crowded the house, his father was up and bustling, in the oven a big, golden-brown turkey dripped all over itself. There was a telegram from his mother sending him love and wanting him to be with her for Christmas. There were presents from her and from his father and from cousins. There was kidding and joking and a sense of high excitement all over; all the fes- tivity he had been unconsciously longing for. . . . "You know," Gregory recalls, "I stood there and couldn't believe that life could take such a sudden flip-flop. I felt ashamed at having felt so sorry for my- self. And every time since when I have become too much concerned about myself, especially when there has been a little self-pity involved, I think of that Thanks- giving Day and snap out of it." About this period in his life, Gregory Peck was a youthful romanticist — classic- ally speaking, that is. Thoughts of girls — that is to say, real, live girls of his own neighborhood — never entered his head un- til he was 16. But we'll come to that. The point is that Gregory's romantic out- look gave him a slightly false conception THE LOVABLE GIRL-OF-THE-MONTH loves her BRA MISS CORKY CROWLEY Winner of International Beaety Show A Blouse, Sidney Heller Created Jewels by TEMPLE'S Fifth Avenue You'll be lovely, too, in a For "lovable" lines choose Lovable Bra #902. Quilted bust sections do a superb job of uplift. New cushion-edge straps add to comfort, wear indefinitely! #902 Nude, Black, White or Blue Rayon Satin. 5Q LOVABLE BRASSIERE CO. 358 Fifth Avenue New York 1, N. Y. of things. He thought, for instance, that life is like a book. It was time for him to learn otherwise and the lesson came in the form of that paste in the snoot he is so thankful for now. When this happened he was still 13 but by now attending St. John's Military Academy in Los Angeles. There was a 14-year-old student at the school whose name was not "Pasty," even if that is the name Gregory prefers to use because it is most accurately descriptive of him. Pasty, who is the villain of this yarn, not only was older and bigger than Gregory, and domineering, Pasty was the only son of rich and doting parents who had their chauffeur take him special bed sheets, and toothpaste and soap, and call to take Pasty for rides and bring him home on holidays. Pasty also received unlimited pocket money to spend at the school com- missary for candy — which he ate all by himself without ever sharing. But all this was not enough for Pasty. For complete happiness he had to cuff and push Greg- ory around — and he did. One afternoon, the last school afternoon before a Thanksgiving, the kids ran out of their final class for a last-minute romp on the campus before leaving for their separate homes. Most of them charged onto a rickety, wooden merry-go-round which they operated by shoving at the ground with their feet. Greg was having a great time at this when Pasty suddenly showed up and shouldered him off. It was too much. For weeks he had been brooding about this fellow. Getting up from the ground he doubled up his fists and rushed Pasty, letting fly with lefts and rights as fast as he could propel them. In a novel it would be written that Greg thus overcame the bully and laid him low and quiescent for the rest of the school term. Greg felt like the heroes of all the books he had ever read. But this fight took place in a matter-of-fact world, not in a book. As a matter of fact, Pasty was stronger and had the reach. As a matter of fact, Pasty picked the right time, just the right target (which was Gregory's mouth and nose) and let go. Greg was knocked cuckoo. The whole front of his face ached for days. He ached even more inside when he realized he had accom- plished nothing by his rebellion. Pasty kept picking on him and it went on wearily like that all through St. John's. "Anyone who thinks this isn't an im- portant lesson for any boy to learn . . . well, just hasn't learned his lesson," Greg- ory laughs. About those girls, now that they are in the picture (as they are in every Gregory Peck picture), Greg remembers that he began thinking about them about the same time that he began wishing that he had a car — which he considers very good tim- ing. What he recalls with much nostalgia is the fun he had with both the girls and the car when his father helped him get his first jalopy. Only a year before, when Gregory was 15, his father, Gregory "Doc" Peck, Sr. (who still works steadily at the only all- night drugstore in San Diego and has bandaged the heads of some 5,000 errant sailors in his time), had thrown him a birthday party — and there had been a dis- pute as to whether any girls should be invited at all! They were, but ^Greg's father noticed that, for the first time at any such affair, Gregory was taking a great interest in the culinary and serv- ing ends of the party. He was keeping himself very busy — and away from any possibility of getting involved in a con- versation with any of his feminine guests. So with the coming of the jalopy — a Model T, of course — there were girls. And with girls there developed a need for money with which to buy gas and sodas and football game tickets — which all seem to go together with girls and a car. A thing like this has driven many a man to work — and it did young Gregory. That's when he went to work driving a truck for the Union Oil Company the summer before he finished high school. This leads directly to another of Greg- ory's odd Thanksgiving recollections — a crash between his truck and an ancient Essex driven by an old man. The latter, for some reason, tried to steer his Essex right through the middle of Greg's truck. The Essex just came apart and when the old man was questioned as to what was on his mind he had no answer — but his driving license did. It specified that he was to drive only while wearing glasses — which he wasn't. He claimed he looked for them when he got up that morning but that he never could find his glasses — without his glasses. Despite the fact that it wasn't his fault, however, Gregory had to go through a lot of legal rigmarole in connection with the ■ accident and he began to feel that the life of a truck driver was not as ideal as he had imagined. Perhaps his father was right about continuing school — and back to school he went. His father was right, as it turned out, and that's why the crash i has become one of Greg's fonder recol- lections. Incidentally, there is another incident in ! connection with Greg's career as a truck driver that his father remembers but ' Gregory doesn't. This has to do with the - time when Gregory brought the day's re- I ceipts into the company's home office and , found he was $30 short. Gregory doesn't remember it, probably, because he simply ; borrowed the $30 to make up the deficit ; and that was that. His father remembers i it because it was his $30 that Greg bor- ! rowed. Of course, not all of Gregory's mem- : ories have a calamitous sound to them at I first hearing. There are three very nice ones whose names are Vincent Price, In- grid Bergman and Greer Garson. They helped out the Gregory Peck who arrived in Hollywood as an apprehensive new- comer. He was a nervous boy when he started his first scene in his first big picture, Keys of the Kingdom. It was a compli- cated bit and playing opposite him was Vincent Price, a tried and capable per- 1 former. Gregory sweated his way through : it and when it was finally shot heard Price \ addressing him angrily, "For Heaven's [ sake, Peck! Don't you ever do anything '■ wrong?" It was a moment or two before Gregory realized that Vincent was speaking in mock anger and was actually compliment- ' ing him on his work. What happened in The Keys of the King- "t dom was, Gregory learned, the key to 1 what lay ahead of him from then on in 1 Hollywood. Spellbound was his next pic- 1 ture and not until he arrived on the set 1 did he meet his co-star, Ingrid Bergman. She was in front of the camera doing a | makeup test and he wondered what he could say, when introduced, that would in- . sure their getting off on the right foot together. But he need not have worried. Even as he pondered, the shot was over, and before she even took a step toward him Ingrid called in delight, "Why, here . is my wonderful new leading man!" He couldn't believe that it could happen i so easily but, almost as if she sensed this, Ingrid went further. She ran over to him I with hand extended. As they stood close I together she said something in a tone of i thankfulness that seemed to come right > from her heart. "Oh, you're tall! It will 1 be so wonderful — I won't have to play > with my shoes off in this picture!" So by the time Gregory went on stage fj to meet Greer Garson for the first time, 1 before they started The Valley of Deci- I sion, he knew his fears were groundless. 'I Perhaps it was a good thing, because for 4 a moment ' Garson set him back. As soon I as she caught sight of him she cried out, j "Well, Mr. Peck has finally arrived. Now we can get started!" But Greer was kidding. When they were more formally introduced she said, 1 "It wasn't that you were late. It was my A impatience. I have been impatient to meet you ever since I knew we were going to N work together." And who could blame Greer? This accounts now for all of Gregory's ' favorite, if ominous-sounding memories — except the one concerning the attack made on him by three street hoodlums. This took place before he came to Hollywood, j when he was attending the New York Neighborhood Playhouse School trying to :1 acquire acting experience. Some of the MODERN SCREEN students threw a party and Ureg, along with a cute girl (he hadn't yet met his Greta) departed for the neighborhood deli- catessen to buy sandwich meat. On the way back, three neighborhood toughs passed some insulting remarks about the girl. To his own surprise, Greg chal- lenged them. The three men were so sur- prised themselves that they stared back in silence and even let Greg go halfway up the block with his companion before they woke up and decided to come after him. Greg is no weakling. Not only has he I the strength of a man of his weight and height, he is perhaps more supple than the average fellow because of his lifelong love for swimming. But he is emphatic- ally not, and never wants to be, one of your muscular monstrosities. And don't forget, he had learned his lesson by this time about life not being like a book. This means that he knew very well what was probably in store for him — the three toughs would tear him apart, j Nevertheless, Greg took a deep breath, put down his packages, and sailed into the three bruisers as they came up. The first man he hit, dropped. The sec- ! ond man stayed up for two punches — then he dropped. The third man ran . . . and Greg, having tasted blood, chased him. He caught him at the corner and in a few more punches had this man on the ground! It was no time to quit now. Greg felt that, by then, the first man had had suffi- cient rest and should be a sound opponent again. He went back to this fellow, but found him reclining gracefully on the sidewalk. "Well?" demanded Greg. "Are you get- ting up?" The fellow stared. "What for?" he asked — and reasonably enough. Now for the moral of this incident — the great lesson it taught Gregory. But when he is asked for this he looks blank. "There isn't any moral," he replies. "It's j just something any man would like to remember. Good Lord! I licked three j guys at one time. Me! Do you think I'll ever forget it?" The End INGRID BERGMAN TALKS (Continued from page 29) centerpiece of a rich color-scheme. Ingrid had just completed all arrangements for her trip to Europe, she was so happy at the prospect she practically glowed and — golly — here I was glowing right back. She can do that to you, can Bergman. For a long time, I'd wanted to know the answers to a lot of questions about the best actress on the American screen. I was lucky. We started off chattering like magpies and kept it up for two hours. I'm not bashful. I asked her straight off, "Ingrid, what are your honest thoughts i about all these interviews, pictures, fans and public appearances you're supposed to duck?" Ingrid's gray eyes were earnest as she replied. "From the beginning, I've always struggled to save myself for what is most important — my work. It's as simple as that. I've never understood how I could spend all my time, thoughts and energy talking about myself, posing for pictures, meeting people and signing autographs— and have anything left for my work. 1 | don't think I'm so important. But I think i my acting is. "They say I've changed," Ingrid went on. "I haven't changed at all. I've always felt that way. Of course, when I first came to America I didn't understand the language too well. I'd miss the point of 5H-W 25t and 10i (TO* Test FRESH yourself at our expense. See if Fresh isn't more effec- tive, creamier, smoother than any deodorant you've ever tried. Only FRESH can use the patented combination of amazing ingredients which gives you this safe, smooth cream that doesn't dry out . . . that really stops perspira- tion better. Write to FRESH, Chrysler Building, New York, for a free jar. 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I've the most horrible memory in the world for faces and names." Ingrid confessed that's another handicap she's lugged along from the start. She used to bluff, she said, asking, "And how is your wife?" when the gentleman didn't have one, or "How did you leave New York?" when the lady had never been outside Hollywood for years. She just got into jams, so she quit pretending and started saying, "I'm sorry — I don't re- member who you are." Which didn't win her any popularity contests. you can't win . . . "But believe it or not, I'm really a friendly soul," laughed Ingrid. "Although, when I am friendly, sometimes they say it's an act. . . . You really can't win!" Ingrid wasn't worked -up or mad about anything. She simply was eager to elab- orate her attitude on a touchy subject. "Peter and I are out dining sometimes when perfect strangers come up to our table and ask me to dance." Bergman smiled. "Probably a dare, a bet or some- thing. But it always surprises me — when you act on the screen, people think they know you, personally. I've walked down the street dozens of times and have had a friendly 'Hello' from some passerby who had no idea who I was at first — just some- one he knew, a familiar face. Then I've watched them turn around and stare when it dawned why they'd said 'Hello' when they recognized me. That's a nice feeling, that friendliness. I like that." Ingrid told me about her pals, "The Alvin Gang," a set of Bergman fans who clustered around the Alvin Theatre in New York where she played in Joan of Lorraine. They started out mobbing her for autographs, and she told them off in no uncertain terms, right at the start. She wasn't, she stated, going to sign auto- graphs at the stage door every time she passed through it— and that was that. But they kept coming back anyway, loaded with presents and tributes which filled her dressing room and touched her heart. By the end of her run, she had a circle of firm friends, and I do mean circle. Because each night the fan gang formed "They don't think I'm doing the things' I should," said Ingrid. The Swedes, shV explained, look on her a lot more se- ( riously than the Americans. (She's a sort: of national idol, I know, and they're su->^ premely proud of her.) They like to? picture her as sweet, intelligent, virtuous ^ — as anyone loves to picture an ideal. Intermezzo was how the Swedes liked Bergman best. But Spellbound, Notorious,l Arch oj Triumph, made them wince. Ingrid's hoping she'll win back a little^ character in her native country with Joan of Arc. Because Sweden's deep in her heart always, and she herself is sort of "touchy" too about what the home folks think. When she was doing Joan of Lor-j STATEMENT OF THE OWNERSHIP, MANAGEMENT, CIRCULATION, ETC., REQUIRED BY THE ACTS OF CONGRESS OF AUGUST 24, 1912, AS AMENDED BY THE ACTS OF MARCH 3, 1933, AND JULY 2, 1946 of MODERN SCREEN, published monthly at Dunellen, N. J., for October 1, 1948. State of New York I County of New York | 5S- Before me, a Notary Public in and for the State and county aforesaid, personally appeared Helen Meyer, who, having been duly sworn according to law, deposes and says that she is the Business Manager of the MODERN SCREEN and that the following is, to the best of her knowledge and belief, a true statement of the ownership, management (and if a daily, weekly, semiweekly or triweekly newspaper, the circulation), etc., of the aforesaid publication for the date shown in the above caption, required by the act of August 24, 1912, as amended by the acts of March 3, 1933. and July 2. 1946 (section 537. Postal Laws and Regulations), printed on the reverse of this form, to wit: 1. That the names and addresses of the publisher, editor, managing editor, and business managers are: Publisher, George T. Delacorte, Jr., 261 Fifth Ave.. New York 16. N. Y. Editor. Wade H. Nichols, 261 Fifth Ave., New York 16. N. Y. Managing Editor, none. Business manager. Helen Meyer, 261 Fifth Ave., New York 16, N. Y. 2. That the owner is: (If owned by a corporation, its name and address must be stated and also im- mediately thereunder the names and addresses of stockholders owning or holding one per cent or more of total amount of stock. If not owned by a corporation, the names and addresses of the individual owners must be given. If owned by a firm, company, or other unincorporated concern, its name and address as well as those of each individual member, must be given.) Dell Publishing Co., Inc., 261 Fifth Ave., New York 16. N. Y. George T. Delacorte. Jr.. 261 Fifth Ave.. New York 16, N. Y. Margarita Delacorte. 261 Fifth Ave., New York 16, N. Y. 3. That the known bondholders, mortgagees, and other security holders owning or holding 1 per cent or more of total amount of bonds, mortgages, or other securities are: (If there are none, so state.) None. 4. That the two paragraphs next above, giving the names of the owners, stockholders, and security holders, if any. contain not only the list of stockholders and security holders as they appear upon the books of the company but also, in cases where the stockholder or security holder appears upon the books of the company as trustee or in any other fiduciary relation, the name of the person or corporation for whom such trustee is acting, is given: also that the said two paragraphs contain statements embracing affiant's full knowledge and belief as to the circumstances and conditions under which stockholders and security holders who do not appear upon the books of the company as trustees, hold stock and securities in a capacity other than that of a bona fide owner: and this affiant has no reason to believe that any other person, association, or corporation has any interest direct or indirect in the said stock, bonds, or other securities than as so stated by her. (Signed) HELEN MEYER, Business Manager. Sworn to and subscribed before me this 13th day of September. 1948. (SEAL) JEANETTE SMITH GREEN (My Commission expires March 30. 1950.) The bra that insures perfect fit . . . by controlling the fit right in the cup itself .. .$2 and $2.50 rfjiw Pend , At leading Specialty, Corset or Dept. Stores BEST MAID BRA COMPANY 148 Madison Ave. New York. N.Y mine on Broadway, an interviewer asked her if she'd do the play in Swedish in Stockholm. "Oh, no— I couldn't," replied Ingrid. Well, her answer was twisted to mean she couldn't speak Swedish well enough any more. When the Swedes read that they almost burned down their ice- bergs— and Ingrid was very embarrassed. What she'd meant, of course, was that she'd be far too busy in Hollywood to consider the project. Ingrid Bergman has been pretty thor- oughly Americanized in her seven years in this country. As we talked it was hard for me to detect a trace of the un- dulating Scandinavian rhythm; occasion- ally a "Yah" pops out, but not often. Ingrid has worked steadily — and still does —with her best friend and English coach, Ruth Roberts, to tailor her tongue to American ears. She and her husband, Peter, never speak Swedish at home, and in public only when they've a private thought to communicate. Even then Ingrid's likely to punctuate her Svensk with "Don't be silly!" "Okay" or "Nothing doing." Her daughter, Pia, can't speak a word of Swedish, Ingrid said. Pia's nine now, a tall-for-her-age cotton -blonde. ("I hope she doesn't grow into an elephant like me!" sighed Ingrid.) She's never had a Swedish nurse or governess. the unpredictable age . . Her daughter is another private-life subject on which Ingrid has always pre- ferred to be reticent. But now she an- swered my questions readily. Pia's in fourth grade at Beverly Hills public school and when I asked Ingrid how she was doing I got a mother's frank appraisal: "Not too well, I'm afraid." Pia's at the unpredictable growing-girl stage now which baffles most mothers, in- cluding Ingrid. The youngster was per- fectly content with pigtails, for instance, until her mama came home with a short haircut for Joan of Arc. Then she had to have one, too, and to keep peace In- grid trotted her down to the studio and observed wistfully while her hairdresser snipped Pia's curls. During Pia's early years, Ingrid firmly refused to allow the child to watch her making a film. But she finally admitted Pia on a set to see her act in The Bells of St. Mary's. When her scene was over, Ingrid asked Pia how she liked it. "Oh," said Pia in her best blase tones, "it looks easy. 7 could do that!" The Bells was Pia's first full-length look at her mother on the screen. What wowed Pia then was the boxing bout Ingrid staged with her boy pupil. She thought it was terribly funny when Mama got clipped on the jaw. Ingrid's not training Pia to be an actress or even thinking about it, yet, she said. Later, if Pia follows in her footsteps, that'll be fine with Ingrid and she'll try to teach her everything she knows. Right now, she said, she's very relaxed about her daughter's future, and she couldn't say whether or not Pia had an ounce of acting talent. "But she loves to play-act and dress up all the time," Ingrid admitted. Pia makes up her own plays and acts out all the parts. "I'm her audience and critic," ad- mitted Ingrid. "We take everything she does apart — and sometimes she takes apart everything I do, too." Ingrid has never been anywhere for long without having Pia around. Her stay here without her daughter for In- termezzo, Bergman's first Hollywood film, was pretty unhappy. I know she kept a picture of Pia inside her makeup box and used to close her dressing-room door and have a good cry almost every day, then try to walk off her loneliness at night along the foggy streets of Culver T%t( Diqqm smile wins her a story-book career ! Peggy Diggins, Beauty Director at famed John Robert Powers School, attracts glamorous assign- ments wherever she goes. Peggy's charming smile was first spotted by a famous columnist, who launched her on a promising movie career. When war began, Peggy left Hollywood to join the WAC. Overseas, another exciting task awaited her— as a war correspondent, she interviewed world-famous people. Now marriage and mother- hood keep Peggy in New York. Her winning smile serves as a shining example to her Powers students. It's a Pepsodent Smile! Peggy says, "Using Pepsodent is part of my beauty routine." The smile that wins is the Pepsodent Smile ! 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Ask your food store for Hi Pop in the red and white candy cane package. Make your own popcorn at home. Remem- ber— Hi Pop is the same fine corn movie shows feature. For/^love of qour life U Cedar Hope Chesl est for Christmas No. 660-48RT You'll lose your heart to a Bluebird Cedar Hope Chest the moment you see it . . . for these spacious beauties in exotic veneers of rare woods are the very finest of all cedar chests. Write now /or a free illus- trated /older; see them at leading stores from coast to coast. 84 City. Her daughter's the apple of her eye and the flower of her heart — along with the other member of her family, her husband, Dr. Peter Lindstrom. Ingrid has no close relatives left in the world — her mother died when she was two, and her father when she was 12 — and she centers all her affections on those two hungrily. You don't hear much about the private life of Ingrid and Peter (this has been the Number One topic on In- grid's list of things she won't talk about) but I know they're idyllically mated — and pretty sentimental, too. For instance, last New Year's, when In- grid was East in Joan of Lorraine, Peter grabbed a plane and flew East to see her, arriving the afternoon of New Year's Eve. They stepped out that night at the Co- tillion Room of the Pierre and danced the New Year in. The next afternoon, Peter was flying back to his Los Angeles hos- pital job. He'd made the trip because New Year's Eve is their very special night and has been ever since they met. Ingrid has always been fiercely proud of her husband's profession and she's always sized it up as being twice as im- portant as her own. Peter has just been appointed resident neuro-surgeon for the Los Angeles General Hospital, a mighty important post. Sometimes their two completely differ- ent careers make them strangers for days, Ingrid said. Sometimes Ingrid's husband drags home at 3 a.m., sometimes he leaves earlier than that. He often works Christ- mas and holidays. But whether Ingrid is deep in a picture part or not she's always wrapped up in what he's doing. His doctor friends are the most regular guests at their home and she's even watched one operation of Peter's — on a nine-year-old boy, to remove a brain tumor. (She told me she steeled herself for hours before, not to be squeamish, and she worried far more over how she'd act at that event than she ever did over a movie scene.) Then Ingrid gave me an intimate little sidelight on her relationship with Peter. "There's one thing my husband is always kidding me about," she smiled. "I've over- come a lot of things since I've been in America, but I still hate to be stared at. I'm always sneaking into little cafes and having a good time until somebody says 'Look!' Then the whole room, it seems, bends its eyes on me and I have to leave. I've fled stores so many times, just as the shopping was getting interesting, because a crowd collected." Ingrid laughed, "My husband kids me a lot about that. 'You don't like people to stare at you,' he says, 'yet you're al- ways staring like a hick at other celebrities yourself That's true. I'll grab his arm and say, 'Look, look— there's Bette Davis!' or someone when I should know better. "Well, I'm guilty. I stare. But I don't see why people have to stare at me so long. so here goes! . . . "Anyway, at Sun Valley it used to be a nightmare for me to start down that slope on skis. The sides were always lined with people and I knew I would be so bad. I could see amateur cameras pointing my way and I could picture my- self upside down, pointing six different directions awkardly in a spill, or wob- bling wildly while movie cameras kept grinding, grinding. So I just stayed at the top being miserable, when I was dying to learn to ski. "But one time not long ago it suddenly occurred to me that, stared -at or not, I must live my life — and I wanted to ski. So here goes, I said! I slipped and slid and wobbled down — but after a time or two I didn't care who watched. I cured myself of that and I had a grand time." Ingrid's full of little surprise items like that when you warm her up and get her, talking. I dragged out another one wheri' I asked her why she was still such a- homebody, if she's blunted the edges of; her self-consciousness. "Don't you like1 to go out at night?" I asked her. (I know; she's a divine dancer; Ray Milland told me once Ingrid was light as a feather.) And although I never see her in public much around Hollywood, it was getting harder and harder to picture Bergman asi the Alice-sit-by-the-fire you usually hear- about. "I love to go out," Ingrid came back at' me. "In New York I never ate dinner until midnight, after the show. Then If was always asking, 'Where do we go: now?' There were so many interesting': places to go and things to do. I adore ' New York," glowed Bergman. "Holly-' wood is an ideal place to work. There's absolutely nothing to distract you. But: as a place to enjoy — well, Hollywood has little that attracts me. And so I just stay home." no ivory tower . . . But hugging her hearth does not mean that Bergman is living in an ivory tower, remote from the whirling world. Not at all. She's very sociable and keeps her- house crowded with her good friends — among them Ruth Roberts; Signe Hassoj (the Swedish actress who went through1 the Royal Dramatic Theatre in Stockholm ahead of her, and who has always been Ingrid's acting idol); Alfred Hitchcock and his wife; Lewis Milestone; the Charles Boyers, and the Gary Coopers. Larry Adler, the harmonica player, and Jack Benny, both of whom traveled with her through Germany on a wartime GI en- : tertainment tour, drop by often. Ingrid likes concentrated conversation. She loves to pump people who can tell her things she doesn't know about art, philosophy, medicine, politics. But she can also be; bright with small-talk. She can even be whacky if she gets an idea. Her witch ride Hallowe'en before last proved that beyond 1 j any doubt. It started when Victor Fleming, direct- ing Ingrid in Joan oj Arc, caught a cold and stayed home in bed. After a couple of idle days, Bergman called him and quipped, "If you don't hurry and get well, I'm coming over like a witch and scare you out of bed! This is Hallowe'en, you know." Walking away from the phone she thought, "Why not?" So she hustled to her makeup man, Jack Pierce, and soon was the most horrible-looking hag you'd care to shudder at. She drove to Bel Air — and rode her broom into Vic's house, clawing and screaming. He got well fast. Then Ingrid decided her makeup was too good to waste. She buzzed over to Leo McCarey's to give him the terror treatment, and on to Al Hitchcock's to j scare him out of bed, too. Along the way, plenty of Hollywood citizens got a startled eyeful of Ingrid Bergman in her fright- wig. But quieter joys are her real recreation. She reads three and four books a week, working or not. She's absolutely greedy about seeing plays, too. Once Ingrid was in New York for an 11-day visit. She saw 14 plays — one a night, plus three matinees! In Hollywood, she loves to shop at the Farmers' Market. She also loves to eat, but hates to cook. Ingrid stacks on weight rather easily, so she goes light on breakfast with coffee, fruit and a muffin, a cottage-cheese lunch and then a whopping dinner. If she can stave off her weakness, nibbling through- out the day, she's safe. Her figure looked super-trim the day I saw her, and she's dressing much more smartly since being exposed to Manhattan styles last year. Incidentally, we've seen more of the Berg- man silhouette in Arch of Triumph than the camera had hitherto exposed, and if she does Adam and Eve for Leo McCarey (she said she probably will — but the script's not written yet), well — Bergman in fig-leaves — could you take it? Ingrid has no prudish complexes what- ever about how she appears, if it's in line with her art. You hear she never wears makeup. I asked her and she blasted that fiction pronto. "Of course I'll wear makeup, all that's needed, if the part calls for it." Ingrid's as curious as a cat profession- ally, too. She was in New York once when Mae West was starring in a bawdy bur- lesque, Katherine Was Great. Bergman told some friends she wanted to see it. They shuddered. "Why?" they asked her. "It's a lousy play. You'd be bored with it. And Mae West — she's not your type at all!" Ingrid shook her head. "She must have something," she persisted. "I'd like to know what it is. Maybe I can learn something from her." So she went. Ingrid seemed a little wistful to me when I asked her whether she had any other great goal or ambition to take the place of Joan of Arc. "No, not yet," she said. "How could I? When I started the picture, it was like someone handing me a shining castle, one I had dreamed about forever. But," she said, "one of these days I'll have to find something." She will, I'm sure — because Ingrid Bergman is not only a great actress but a human being, warm with feeling and the capacity to love ideals and her fellow man. I looked at my watch. Two hours of frank talk with the bashful Bergman! Uncooperative? I couldn't help but won- der how long I'd have lasted with the unsociable Greta Garbo. On the steps, I couldn't resist the ques- tion, "Ingrid, have you ever met Greta Garbo?" She blushed and shook her head. "No — well, yes, once," she corrected, "but so briefly. I was in a store and someone quickly introduced us. She just said, 'How do you do'." "Then what happened?" I wanted to know. "Why," laughed Ingrid, "she disap- peared." Then I reluctantly did a Garbo myself. But I was happy. For I'd learned a num- ber of new things about the mystery woman (huh!), the shy (my eye!) recluse (pooh!) that we've long ago unofficially crowned queen of Hollywood stars. And I'm happy to. be able to pass them along. It's a shame someone, hasn't before. The End I SAW IT HAPPEN This was the last Sunday for Roy Rogers at the Boston Garden. When he came to the microphone he asked for the spot- lights to be dim- med. Three of the lights went out, but the fourth stayed on. The other men at the microphone backed away when Roy took his gun out of its holster, shot out the lights and went back to his song. He certainly has good aim! Catherine Kelley Everett, Mass. BRILLIANT, WORLD-FAMOUS STAGE STAR . . . 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HOLLYWOOD'S MYSTERY ROMANCES (Continued from page 56) an Eastern columnist's item about her switch to dates with Lew Ayres, Myrna choked on a giggle and said, "That would be the most unusual romance I never had. You see, I've never met Lew Ayres." All this confusion is one thing that makes life interesting anywhere, whether in Hol- lywood or Popopolis, Nebraska. It's im- possible to state emphatically when an emotion will sail into the heart and mind of any boy or girl and upset the entire future as seen in the crystal ball. Only one thing is certain. When a man carries a torch, his dates are going to be as scattered as a double shotgun blast. That's the case with Ronald Reagan. Col- umnists haven't been able to get it out of their minds that Ronnie will go back to Jane Wyman because their marriage seemed to be so perfect. For instance, on a recent evening Ronnie came into the pint-sized restaurant known as the Bantam Cock alone. This charming little cafe is now the gathering spot and kick-off place for bachelors, romances and romantic bust-ups. On this particular eve- ning, Ronnie was more cheerful than he had been in weeks. hot tip . . . "Watch," a columnist said to another. "In a couple minutes you'll see Jane Wyman come in. I've been tipped off that there will be a reconciliation." Sure enough, Jane did come in. She and Ronnie retired to a corner booth. They sat close together. As he talked he touched her hand. "See?" the columnists declared in triumph. "It's just like I said — they're get- ting back together. Boy, I've seen all I need for a sure-shot prediction tomorrow." The columnist left, happy in the thought of his little scoop. But what a dope he was. He should have stood around, for ten min- utes later Jane and Ronnie were joined by two other individuals — both male. Ronnie didn't look too happy. After a while, he left. After a longer while, Jane left with the two escorts, both unknown to the movie world. The answer? Jane Wyman and Ronald Reagan tried one reconciliation. It didn't work. The chances are heavily against an- other attempt. Frankly, Ronnie is carrying a torch — one that could be used on the Statue of Liberty, it's that bright. But what almost everyone overlooks is that Ronnie's torch is lit as much for the state of matri- mony and the incomparable happiness that comes with daily association between a father and his kids as it is for Jane. And now? Well, Ronnie has taken out Doris Lilly, Nancy Duke, Betty Under- wood, Ann Lawrence, Patricia Neal, Ann Sothern and most recently Monica Lewis, the lovely singer who has just returned to New York. He appears to like Monica bet- ter than any of them, considering he had four dates in a row before her departure, but who's to tell what's going to happen when he finally puts down the torch for good? By then he may have found the girl he wants to marry next — and it is a safe bet that Ronnie will marry again (if he doesn't do the unexpected and go back to Jane) long before such stalwart characters as Clark Gable and Jimmy Stewart are ready to settle down. Not that Ronnie isn't stalwart. He's a real guy and the best husband material loose in these parts, but don't try to figure his next move or believe everything you read. Sometimes these torch-carrying situa- tions bounce with dramatic effect and no one thinks to look backwards to find outi what really happened. Consider the case of Bob Walker. He took his divorce from Jennifer Jones hard. 1 Like Ronald Reagan he had a tough time forgetting his former bride but a much worse tussle taking the loss of daily asso- ciation with his children in stride. It's not funny when a man is the good father type. When Bob Walker put down the torch, he put it down for good. He still spent long hours with his children at every opportu- nity. They are crazy about him and vice versa, but in his personal life, Bob became [ a cynic. He'd make a date with a girl and stand her up. He'd be at a party and just I walk out on his date. He was confused and his subconscious seemed to be bent on proving that he didn't care a darn for any female. The old policy of hurt rather than get hurt. So Bob eventually married Bar- bara Ford. It was a sad mistake. A mistake which perhaps might be recti- fied if the love between the two were strong enough. The trouble is that they 1 hadn't known each other long enough — long enough, perhaps, for Barbara to fully understand Bob, and for Bob to have re- sumed a completely normal attitude toward women in general. At any rate, two days before they were married, Barbara spent a long weekend on the yacht where she's lived most of the time since childhood. Her father, John Ford, is a quiet, stern-visaged individual, known for his deeply religious convictions and his big heart. He didn't want Barbara to wed a man who'd been divorced. Bar- bara thought she knew better and so did Bob. They didn't take into consideration the truth — that a man who has had one or more unfortunate romances is not sure of what he wants. Actually, Bob was on the verge of falling in love with someone else shortly before he married Barbara, and that girl was Ava Gardner. They had been seeing a lot of each other, until an accident hap- pened that put an end to the budding romance. Actually, the climax to Barbara and ■ Lois Andrews, married but sepa- rated from a Hollywood actor, doesn't plan a divorce just now, and explains it with this logic: "I do not want to get unmarried because you see, as long as I'm married, then I can't get mar- ried. . . ." ■ Dick Wilson: "The single girl looks for a husband every day and the mar- ried woman looks for one every night." ■ Groucho Marx, now filming Love Happy, insisted that publicity for stars was needed. Without publicity, he said, people say, "Groucho Marx? Never heard of him." With publicity, they say, "Groucho Marx? That bum!" ■ "I saw a movie so old," says Milton Berle, "it should be on television . . ." 0 "An income tax reduction," says Jackie Gleason, "is the kindest cut of all." — Earl Wilson Bob's romantic troubles began a long way back with a series of emotional accidents, none related to the other. There was Ava Gardner who had been hurt by two pre- vious marriages, with Mickey Rooney and Artie Shaw. Until then Ava's own person- ality had been a light hidden under a bushel of male dominance. When she emerged, she was determined never to let it happen again. Then Howard Duff entered the picture. Few people know it, but he was on the verge of marrying a girl before the war. He made up his mind that she was the one while he was on Saipan. His declaration of intentions was almost on its way when the girl married someone else. A year later, Howard emerged from the war to become the famous Sam Spade of radio. From there he stepped into pictures. He wanted no part of one woman. He was playing the field. He met Yvonne de Carlo. They dated steadily, but not exclusively. One day he dropped into the dressing room of Burt Lancaster. By accident, Ava Gardner was there. They liked each other. A little later people stopped talking about Bob Walker and Ava Gardner. Now it was Duff and Gardner. What happened is not known in detail because Howard Duff and Bob Walker have a solid virtue in com- mon. They are not lippy. emotional climax . . . But the emotional atoms were at work. One bounced off another until a climax was reached in the Walker-Ford wedding. Of course, after the fashion of people who wake up with hangovers, there are al- ways those among us who wake up after a broken romance and declare, "Never again!" That's the way Howard and Ava and Bob all felt, and the only conclusion that can be drawn when it's all summed up is, "It shouldn't have happened to a nice girl like Barbara." There's nobody to be censured, for like the ancient defense against crimes of violence, when it comes to people in love the verdict must always be, "Not guilty and not guilty by reason of (temporary) in- sanity." Obviously, because it is true that sweet- hearts everywhere are in a state of coma, the alert press of Hollywood cannot be blamed for not reporting anything but con- flicting stories when those involved in romances don't know the answer them- selves. Except for certain "pat" situations, Hollywood heart situations are like a close- ly contested basketball game, the answer to which is in doubt until the final whistle. And even then a tie score may result in an extra period. Of course, there is the old business of "publicity romances." Rory Calhoun had one with Vera-Ellen. They seldom rush off to get married and the resultant friendships make for inter- esting reading. It's no one's fault if im- pressionable people go off the deep end and figure that a hot romance is going on. That's why everyone — almost — was amazed when Rory suddenly upped and married Lita Baron, formerly known as Isabelita (see page 44) . The facts are that Rory for many weeks had been dating the pretty singer four -to- one to, the times he saw Vera-Ellen. On the other hand, the Guy Madison-Gail Russell romance which started out to be purely a publicity gimmick seems to be moving toward a permanent cementing. Dating for publicity's sake is an old and honored practice in Hollywood. Consider Pete Lawford. Pete is a very ambitious fellow. A few years back he used to cheer- fully complain, "What's the matter with me? I'm not such a lousy actor. I get good parts, but nobody knows me. I might as well be Peter the Hermit." "The thing for you to do," he was told 0 m ape it easy with "SCOTCH" TAPE SKIRT HEM RIPPED? A strip of transpar- ent "Scotch" Cellulose Tape makes a quick temporary repair. FIRST AID INSTRUCTIONS taped on inside of medicine cabinet door are helpful in emergencies. PREVENT GARMENT SNAGS by covering clothespin jaws with smooth-surfaced "Scotch" Tape. "Scotch" Brand Tape is transparent as glass, seals without moistening. Minne- sotaMimng& Mfg.Co.,St. Paul6, Minn. RfG. U.S. PAT Off BRAND MADE BY THE "3M" COMPANY . . . also makers of "3M" Abrasives, Adhesives, and a wide variety of other products for home and industry. General Export: DUREX ABRASIVES CORP., 63 Wall St., New York 5, N. Y. In Canada: CANADIAN DUREX ABRASIVES LTD., Brantford, Ontario © 1948 3M CO. 87 PAIN PAYS CAN BE PLAY DAYS RELIEVES FUNCTIONAL PERIODIC PAIN CHAMPS- HIABACHC -"BLUES" "What a difference Midol makes" by a studio friend, "is to whip up a little romance publicity." Pete went to work oh the idea. At the time he had very little money, so he didn't go the Mocambo route. But before very long his name was linked with popular names, one after another. The results were pleasing. Every time you picked up a newspaper, Pete's name was in the gossip columns. The same for magazines. Today, Pete doesn't have to date for "sweet publicity's sake." Nevertheless, when he takes a good long look at what happens to the general run of marriages, he's a wary boy and he is not exactly allergic to the thought that he is one of the few remaining bachelors in Hollywood who make romantic news. It's part of the busi- ness. That's why, when you see Pete's name linked with Jane Wyman, he's not to be considered the reason Janey doesn't go back to Ronald Reagan. The same goes for his dates with Ann Miller, the couple of dates with Rita Hayworth. The time to wonder what's happening with Pete is when his name is not in the columns as sparking with this girl or that. It will mean that Pete has "gone underground" in the Hollywood romance field and he's about to come up with a bride. permanent bachelors . Of course, Pete is not in a class with bachelor characters like Bruce Cabot. A suave, handsome oldtimer who can still spot any of the new glamor boys eight phone numbers and never get lonesome, Bruce doesn't bother with "serious" inten- tions to start a romance. He's a fellow who's not trying to prove anything. Either a girl wants to date him or she doesn't and every- one knows he's a permanent bachelor. The same thing goes for Cary Grant, who has long enjoyed an acute attack of single- itus. Newspaper predictions that he would marry Betty Hensel — who is now one of the most beautiful models ever to be stared at on the floor at Adrian's in Beverly Hills — would fill a book. It's happening all over again with Betsy Drake. Of course, Cary can weaken, but less impressionable friends of Mr. Grant's are already insisting that the star is more fascinated with Betsy's prom- ise as a future star than he is about a pos- sible career for her as his wife. Lew Ayres also ceased to be the marry- ing type a long time ago and he is such an habitual bachelor that the columnists have even ceased to revive that old one about Lew not having been able to forget Gin- ger Rogers. His dates with Jane Wyman are not serious. Similarly, the talk about Deanna Durbin and Vincent Price may be marked down as a large cut of whole cloth. Not so in the case of Greer Garson and Bud Fogelson, the Texas oil man. Greer's dates with Georgie Jessel were for laughs. She was a lonesome gal until she ran into the enterprising Fogelson, one of the most likable characters ever to hit Hollywood. It is Fogelson who several years ago re- vealed himself to be a big-time man of action when he was puzzled by the ques- tion: "Why is it that grey horses don't win as many races as other horses?" "That's easy," a jockey told him. "There aren't as many grey horses." This sounded reasonable. But Fogelson decided to test it. He did so, spectacularly. He began to buy grey horses. Before long he had more grey horses than anyone else. In fact, he had as many grey horses as the average stable owner had other-colored horses. He began to race them at Del Mar back in 1938, and sure enough, it turned out that if a racing stable had as many grey horses as other stables had brown and black horses, there 'd be many grey winners. Fogelson met Greer at a party. His sense of humor matched hers. They have no bankroll problem. Hence they have no career problem. They have no problems, period. As a result they are an exceedingly good bet in the future book for marriage. But what of Richard Ney? There's no question but that he still is deeply fond of Greer. For a time, whenever Ney walked into a restaurant or a theater and dis- covered Greer present, he did a fade-out. This is a normal reaction because no two recently divorced people get any laughs out of sitting in the same restaurant and being stared at. In the meantime, Richard Ney apparently is not too happy. His dates are scattered and not serious. Studio people took notice of the fact that he had dinner a couple of times with Madeleine Carroll before she left to do a New York stage play. They took note because Madeleine is older than Ney and the suspicion is that Ney is generally more attracted to older women. But there can be nothing more than friendship of the acting sort between these two because Madeleine is married. Her husband is in Europe, or was at the time, and she naturally had dinner with several friends. Perhaps Ney and Miss Carroll had something in common to talk about be- cause her marriage to Sterling Hayden began to flounder originally because of the disparity in ages. The allegation of the ex- perts was that Madeleine couldn't forget that Sterling was a bit younger, although he continually protested that this made no difference. If this is true, it may be equally true from the male standpoint with Richard Ney and Greer Garson. Back of all these mysteries and the con- stant microscopic examination of the stars' private lives is considerable heartache which none of them desire and few of them deserve. True, movie stars differ from other people in the size of their bankrolls and the glamor of their lives — but their heart problems are the same as those of anyone else. Meantime, we will all go on reading the daily puzzle columns. We'll find out that it's now really serious between Diana Lynn and Bob Neal — as indeed it isn't but could be . . . that Joan Crawford has quarreled with her attorney, Greg Bautzer — as in- deed she sometimes does, except with less frequency as time goes by . . . that Roddy McDowall is interested in Ann Blythe and something will come of it — as it well might if Roddy continues to grow up, as he will . . . that David May is jealous of anyone who pays too much attention to Beverly Tyler Fascinating people, these romantic Holly- woodians. The End HOW TIME FLIES! H Our movie reviewer wrote of Bing Crosby's performance in Sing You Sin- ners: "The Groaner has always been a likable screen personality, but now for the first time in his career he really acts. . . . Bing will probably never win an Academy Oscar for his histrionics, but he does play a drunk scene . . . beauti- fully."— From a 193S issue of Modern Screen MY ONE AND ONLY (Continued from page 44) when she was brought to this country from Madrid . . . who first sensed the immensity of America in the shadow and noise of the giant automobile plants at Detroit . . . who wanted to grow and learn quickly to become a part of this new life . . . but took such long years about it. I wanted to tell him that this girl had dreams . . . dreams that she thought were answered when she got a chance to sing, to travel, to find for herself a place in the world of music and art. But that she was wrong. All this was not the answer to her dreams. That answer was . . . well, that was what I was singing about. I had finally found the answer! Up to now he had been coming in with friends; sometimes men, sometimes girls. Then, one night in March he came in alone. He was dressed in his dark blue suit — that, I found out later, he calls his "Dia- mond Jim Brady" outfit. It was a night in which he had started out by dining alone at the Bel Air — in a booth usually reserved for Greta Garbo. And he had come to the Mocambo planning to talk to me. no introduction needed . . . He didn't send someone to ask if I would come to his table. He didn't ask anyone to introduce us — though he was aware that many people he knew there, knew me as well. No. He waited until a moment came when I was walking by his table, and then he rose to his feet and spoke right out. For a second I only knew that he was tall above me . . . and that he was he . . . and he was actually talking to me! "Hello," he said. "I've been wondering if you would sit with me." Quick things went through my mind. I remember thinking, "That's not really a question, Isabelita. He has actually merely made a statement. All you have to do is say, 'Oh, have you?' and walk on." But the next second I was sitting down. It wasn't at all what I had expected to find myself doing. And then he was giv- ing me a glass. "What are you doing?" I asked myself as I took it. "There is champagne in that glass. Don't you know you never drink . . . ?" Of course I knew. I distinctly remem- ber telling him that I never drank. And then I was drinking the wine and neither one of us noticed it because he was say- ing something so earnestly that it seemed not only to take all the saying he could put into it — but all the listening I could give him. "I know you've noticed me here all the time looking at you," he said. "Maybe you've wondered why I never tried to meet you. I avoided it on purpose, be- cause I knew that when it did happen I would fall in love with you the same instant." After a moment I realized I was star- ing. And it came to me that he had said, ". . . fall in love with you the same in- stant." He went on from there. "Tonight I want just that to happen," he said simply. So this is what we both couldn't take; this is when we found it a relief to laugh and kid each other. He acted as if he were terribly disappointed with my speak- ing voice, and said that maybe it would have been better if I hadn't taken elo- cution at Wayne University in Detroit. "I thought you would talk the way you sing — with a Latin accent," he said. "You know, like Carmen Miranda." "You mees thees?" I asked, as Latin as WE WILL SEND YOU ANY ITEM YOU CHOOSE FOR APPROVAL UNDER OUR MONEY BACK GUARANTEE Simply indicate your selection on the coupon betow and forward it with $1 and a brief note giving your age, occupation, and a few other facts about yourself. We will open an account for you and send your selection to you subject to your examina- tion. If completely satisfied, pay the Ex- pressman the required Down Payment and the balance in easy monthly payments. Otherwise, return your selection and your $1 will be refunded. 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"Eef you do, I can talk like that — but, believe me, senor, eet ees hard for me without music." We laughed and he said, "No! ; I like you better without the accent. It's as if you had a double personality." Later, he asked if he could drive me home. Naturally, I accepted. I saw some pictures of him in the back of his car and told him I would be one of his strongest fans if he would autograph one for me. He wrote something swiftly and I read, "For Isabelita, a wonderful, sweet person and it is my pleasure to know you." It was nice . . . but perhaps written a little too swiftly, too formally? On the way home he seemed to hunt up all the traffic lights in the city, man- aging it so that he stopped for the red light at each one. Then he stopped at a drive-in. Then he stopped so we could see the lights of Hollywood below. Then he thought we should stop at another drive-in. And then . . . well, he just stopped! getting serious . . . I never saw a man who seemed to care less for driving and more for stopping! But each stop and each talk brought us closer together and when at last I ran inside my house I felt that maybe such a wonderful thing could happen in Holly- wood after all! There were other nights afterwards, and mornings and afternoons — whenever we could be together. Little by little we found out that we were getting to be very serious. One night we talked about the other people we were dating. I talked about the men I knew. He talked about the girls he knew (and whom I had read about and seen with him so often). We kept on talking about them — and then one night, as if someone had thrown us a cue, we started referring to them in the past tense! What ''had happened struck us both at the same time. He put his hand on my shoulder. "Did — did you notice something?" he asked. "Uh-huh," I answered. A big smile spread over his face and another one, even bigger, was on mine. "Gee, that's swell!" he said. "You know, I've been wanting to get into that subject — about the others we go out with." "Used to go out with, you mean?" I asked. "That's just what I mean!" he said. So, from that it wasn't long before the afternoon when Rory's arm went reas- suringly around my shoulders as I ner- vously prepared to enter his home and meet his father and mother . . . and the night when he met my parents and I cov- ered his awkwardness by constantly hand- ing him things, taking them away again, and practically chattering my head off. There was a special night when Rory and my sister Mary Lou barred me from a room, while they both worked on some- thing, to emerge later with my second autographed picture from him. This one he had written in Spanish, with Mary Lou's help. This one was much better than the first. Translated into English it read, "For Isabelita . . . we are made for each other . . . with all my love and affec- tion . . . always yours, Rory." Much, much better! We learned things about each other. I learned that with Rory absence does make the heart grow fonder. I learned that when he was away on location at Durango, Colorado, making Sand for 20th Century-Fox, he did not stop thinking about me. The proof was in a package that came for me one day. When I opened it I saw a silver fox cape; six of the most beautiful, unusual skins I have ever seen. But it wasn't the furs that thrilled me as much as a hint of what was on his mind in the form of the initials he had chosen to be sewed on the inside of the cape. They weren't just the initials "I. C." that would stand for Isabelita Castro, my real name. The initials were "I. C. C"! Could that second "C" stand for Calhoun — or could it? "No," said my sister, kidding me. "The furrier has to put that on to show the fur comes from Colorado." "That's not it," volunteered my brother, Peter, who knows all about everything now that he is in the middle of his col- lege career. "All goods shipped from one state to the other are under the jurisdic- tion of the Interstate Commerce Commis- sion, and that's what the 'I. C. C stands for!" Our first big formal date almost never came off, because he rushed me and I wouldn't be rushed. He arrived all shin- ing and black-tied, to find me still in rolled-up jeans and knockabout sweater! He poked at me to get started and I balked. We began fencing with outstretched arms for weapons, carrying on the fight through living room, out to the backyard, past the incinerator and in and out the garage. When at last the duel was over, Rory looked a mess — his tuxedo smudged, his shirt wilted and soiled. No party. We had our dinner in the kitchen. The first big mystery of our romance concerned his former girl friends whom I never seemed to meet at any of the first half-dozen affairs we attended. And I had thought there were so many of them! Then I learned that it wasn't just chance that caused this ... it was Rory's diplomacy. About that time we had our first expe- rience with one of Rory's fans (something I knew I would have to get used to). It started off badly but Rory saved the day — or, rather, night. We were leaving Ciro's one night when he noticed a 15-year-old bobby-soxer whispering to her pals along "autograph row." But she didn't run forward for an autograph. She stood perfectly' still while Rory's car was brought up and while he held the door open for me to enter. But when he had entered his side and we were slowly pulling away, the youngster leaped up to him and screamed a "wolf call" right into his ear. He couldn't help being startled and the car jumped badly, almost hitting a pillar be- fore Rory could straighten it. happy fan . . . For a minute he was angry — and then he saw the girl standing in deep dismay, her hand to her open mouth as she real- ized what she had done. Now her friends began to jeer at her and her eyes began to fill. Rory leaned out of the car and, acting as if she were someone he knew, said, "Oh, it's you!" and blew a kiss to her. As we pulled away her mouth was still open . . . but on her face was the happiest look I have ever seen. We learned, as we got to know each other, that our instincts matched each other, in idea and practice. Many times we met for a date, to find ourselves with the same inspiration about where to go and even wearing similar combinations — he in his white flannels and blue jacket, I in my white wool, pleated skirt and navy blue coat with sailor collar; or, if we were to "rough" it, he in levis and baby blue shirt and I in my powder blue seersucker skirt and deeper blue blouse. We had an attunement on the matter of our careers. I shared with him his close attention to all facets of his screen work — and he was delighted that the screen was becoming my own major ac- tivity when Columbia gave me one of the leads in Jungle Jim, starring Johnny Weissmuller. (The studio also gave me my nice new name — Lita Baron.) All this was what we had lived together and known about each other when, one night late in summer, we sat parked on the hill outside my house, the front of his car pointing up at the stars rising in the east, and the orange-colored beams of the Hollywood Bowl searchlights playing over our heads. He said the many things that a girl wants to hear . . . and remember for the rest of her life. He spoke of other girls he'd known, say- ing that in each of them he had found one thing or another to attract him: unusual beauty, a smile, a sense of humor, a way of talking or a way of doing; but in only one girl had he found all of the qualities he really thought important. He spoke of plans: of a house, and of what kind of house; of the kind of life he wanted to live in it. * He spoke of all this and then he said that I was the girl and the plans were for us. . . . mind made up . . . One night, after our marriage, we dropped in at the Mocambo together and Johnny the waiter grinned as he seated us. "You never had a chance," he kidded Rory. "The minute you walked into the Mocambo last January your goose was cooked. Isabelita and I went after you. It was two-to-one — a cinch!" Rory laughed — but as if he were espe- cially tickled by something. "You mean," he said, "that you and Isa- belita laid plans to put shackles on me, eh? Well, that works both ways." "Well . . ." said Johnny. "You know I was only kidding." "Sure," said Rory. "But I wasn't. Long before you and Isabelita saw me, I saw her." It was my turn to talk. "Where? When?" I wanted to know. Rory leaned over the table and took my hand. "A couple of years ago in my home town, San Jose," he said. "You sang there with Cugat one night, remember?" I thought quickly and then recalled the time. "In a theater?" I asked. "That's right," said Rory. "That's when I fell in love with you. But you were a singing star on the stage and I was just a guy in the audience. What chance did I have? But I made up my mind. Some- day— somehow — I would meet you . . . and I did!" Now Johnny, who is ordinarily so suave, so sure of himself, stood there with his mouth open. Both of us looked at Rory — wondering that something like this could happen, not in a book, not on the screen, but in real life. And Rory, leaning back in his chair, winked at us. He was enjoying himself hugely. I hope he always will. The End A BIRD IN THE HAND . . . Got your eye on a Thanksgiving tur- key? We've got our eyes on you! But we don't mean any harm. Our arms are full of $5-bills and our hearts are full of kindness. We're in the mood to read your "I Saw It Happen" anecdotes, and to pay $5 for every one we use. So come on, mail your true, short and amusing contributions to the "I Saw It Happen" Editor, MODERN SCREEN, 261 Fifth Avenue, New York 16, N. Y. 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PICTURE OF THE MONTH (Continued from page 58) British prisons, but he insisted that the man who whipped him really lay it on. (Incidentally, the British refused to send over any research about the cat-o'-nine. They had to find a picture of one in a French crime magazine.) Burt was so welted the next day that he couldn't com- fortably wear a shirt, but he feels strongly that scenes of that intensity cannot be faked. He wanted to show four shifts in his character's response to the whipping. First, complete surprise that the first lick could even ruffle his feelings. Second, real hurt as the next few cracks broke down his bluffed bravery. Third, the shift from simple pain to mental imagery of the crime which he is being beaten for. Fourth, complete breakdown as he considers that his guilt is being repaid. On the screen, the scene is powerful stuff and they were afraid that it might be too much for the public. But it will be left in, almost untouched. Being a psychological study of a bully, this picture didn't have much of the usual set horseplay during the shooting. The funniest thing that did happen was the day Fontaine outran Lancaster. They were doing a scene in which Burt was supposed to catch Joan just in front of the camera after a long chase. She took off like a deer and Burt, running like a track star, couldn't catch her. Both ran right by the set-up and the take was ruined. Burt, who gets up every morning at six to work out on the UCLA track with his friend and former acrobatic partner, Nick Cravat, decided he'd better add another couple of miles to his workout. Burt startled everyone on the set by climbing up a 40-foot steel scaffolding one morning. He explained when he got down that "I just felt good and wanted to see how fast I could do it." His friends (and Burt) are hoping that he can soon do a circus picture to get some of the acrobatics out of his system. Suggested title: The Unafraid. The End BOB MITCHUM'S OWN STORY {Continued from page 33) telephone is to blame. The reporter calls the actor and says he hears there's going to be a divorce. The actor explains. Yes, he admits, they have had a little trouble. But divorce? No. No divorce. So the next day the paper says, 'Too bad about that actor, Joe Flotsam, and his wife. Looks like they're breaking up over that trouble they had.' Of course, Joe Flotsam didn't say that, exactly. He said things on both sides of it which would explain. And it's not the reporter's fault — he can't write the life history of everybody who gets his name in the paper." The words came back to me vividly two days later when the news of Bob's arrest on a narcotics charge broke into print. I didn't believe everything I read. I recalled the stories that broke a few years back when Lew Ayres went to a conscientious objectors' camp rather than bear arms, and I remembered his later distinguished service in the front lines with the wounded. Then there was the case of a Marine by the name of Fitzgerald. A hero of Guadal- canal, he married a fine young actress named Gloria Dixon. Their home burned down. She was killed. He was picked up as a deserter, given twenty years' hard labor. On reported "facts" alone, he didn't have a friend left in Hollywood. But two months later I saw him again, back in uniform, and advanced to the rank of sergeant. There had been a mistake, but it had finally been rectified when the pay- roll record of his 10c a day as a prisoner reached Washington. There the honorable discharge he had claimed all along had been discovered. I thought of something else: Bob Mitch- um left me at Lucey's that day to go house-hunting. I stayed for a few more drinks with friends. When we left, any one of us could have jumped a stop signal, smashed into a car, hurt someone seriously and wound up in jail facing serious charges. But Fate was fond of us. Fate gave Bob Mitchum a kick in the pants. Strangely enough, in the hours of sad- ness into which Bob plunged, he was pursued by the ringing of the telephone he hated. Perhaps he should have an- swered, for hours before his ill-fated de- cision to stop in at the little house in Laurel Canyon, a friend was trying to reach him. Someone had called to say, "I don't know what it's all about, but I've had a call from someone close to the law. He says he was tipped off that they are going to try to pick up Bob for something tonight — maybe you'd better tell him to stay home." I wondered about that. I guess everyone has friends, in a pinch. Did Bob have enemies, too? Certainly he had made mistakes. They might have been swept away by a recon- ciliation on Dorothy's return. But would there have been such a reconciliation? In the notes he wrote for me, Bob said, "I have spent eight years trying to get this girl alone for a while so that we might discover each other. In eight years we grew so fast that we had little time to talk, and depended too fully on psychic sym- pathy." The two of them were struggling to reach each other, yet going in opposite directions at breakneck speed. Actually, what appeared to be tragedy was an abrupt,- if brutal, climax which could provide them with a fresh start. When Dorothy did return to Hollywood after Bob's arrest, she rejoined him pub- licly. As this is written, they are alone together at last. Will the shock they have withstood undo the damage of so many years? To present that possibility honestly, let me relate an incident as Bob told it to me. Weeks ago, he signed a contract to do some personal appearances in New York. "Dorothy," he said in that clipped man- ner of his, "I have to do this trick. Pick up some nice money. Then we'll take a vacation." "A vacation?" Dorothy exclaimed. "That's wonderful. We can pile the kids in the Buick and drive across country." Bob's face lit up. "Yeah, that's it. See the Grand Canyon. Talk to people. Be a couple of average fellows for a change. I'm jittery. Seems I can't even shave any more without some guy looking over my shoulder and trying to sell me something. Yeah — get ready. We're driving." They got ready, but the telephone rang. Telegram for Bob Mitchum. The date in New York was moved up. No time now for a leisurely jaunt across the country. "Can't do this to us," Bob told Dorothy. "We're going anyway — the whole gang. We'll fly." Dorothy was alarmed. After all, their savings had been wiped out only a few months before. They'd had too much con- fidence that someone else would do the right thing. She knew that the worry over this loss had cut deeply, undermining Bob's confidence in his own judgment, up- setting his faith in other people. "The boys and I had better stay home," she said. "It's too expensive." Bob exploded. "To hell with expense! This is important. We'll sell the car. We can pick one up back there when I've piled up some money. You and the kids can go down to Delaware. No, we'll all go to New York, and when I'm through with my work we'll go to the country together." That's what they did. They had been in a $30-a-day hotel suite in New York for three days when dispatches from Holly- wood were still speaking of impending divorce! Then came the trip to Delaware. It, too, shows how the odds were piling up against them long before the headlines broke. " — An epitaph to friendship," Bob wrote of that trip in his notes for me. "The weather was bad, and everywhere you looked was trouble, standing in cold, deep puddles— in New York — in Connecticut — in Delaware, the people had troubles, and they sat indoors out of the cold rain and told their troubles to you. I was much too tired to resist, and so escaped into it — like a runaway in a swamp." Bob Mitchum didn't intend it to be this way, for his family's sake. He and Dorothy went to a few parties, fewer night clubs, but they couldn't turn down all invitations graciously. Bob ran smack into trouble. Trouble like this: at one party a blonde, somewhat over par in alcoholic content, wanted to muss his hair. She did. Bob got sore and didn't say anything. Mrs. Bob got sore and did, later. It wasn't so important, but it was typical. "I thought you said you knew her," Mrs. Bob commented. "I guess T know everyone," Bob said, wearily. They argued a little and then forgot the episode. They were both tired. A few nights later, Bob decided to take a walk, prowl around on his own. Every- thing was all right. He was talking to MODERN SCREEN "That's nothing you see it done every day in the newsreels." Seal your Christmas gifts and "sign" your .greeting and gift cards with this exquisite Stampix Portrait of YOU us your favorite snapshot, picture or portrait (or any negative). 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He went flat. He got up. The big man poked him again. He went down, permanently. "Don't do that," Bob said. "Who said don't do that?" the big man asked. "I did," Bob answered. "Now stop it." "Don't worry, actor," the big man said. "This won't take long." He started across the room. "I'm going to do it again," Bob said to himself. "I've got no right hand. Every- body tells me that. Why do I always have to try once with the right? Oh, well, may- be I can roll over by the little guy and we can sleep this one out." The big man threw his punch. Bob's right hand moved. Somebody fell on the floor. "Well, whattya know," Bob muttered. "I did it with that no-good right. I'd better go. When this character gets up he'll kill me. I could never do it again." He turned. The police were there. Two men were on the floor. Bob knew better than to explain, so he did anyway. "It was like this — " he began. "Never mind what it was like," one of the officers snapped. "We saw the whole thing. Now get out of here before some nut claims it was your fault." Bob walked to his car. He was about to go inside and talk to Dorothy. He felt ridiculous. Things like this had to stop, that was all there was to it. take a ride . . . The thing to do was to take a ride and cool off. Pretty soon he was on the high- way— the one to New York. He remem- bered the play he had been discussing with the Theatre Guild — a thing he'd written when he was eighteen years old. Go to New York, he thought. Dorothy knew he did the unexpected, knew he wanted to spend a few days alone incor- porating some changes in the play, changes that were suggested to him by Eugene O'Neill and others. He'd be there in a couple of hours. Then he'd wire her. He stepped on the gas. Later he saw a sailor on the highway. "Can you drive?" he asked as he stopped. The sailor could. Bob crawled into the back seat and fell asleep. When he woke up he felt like he'd dozed off on the BMT during rush hour. There were six sailors in the car. Nice guys. They liked him. He liked them. They stopped off for a nightcap. Bob reached the hotel near dawn. In- stead of wiring, he called Dorothy. The short story was a long story now: Yes, of course, he'd be back in a few days. Sure, he'd be there for the county fair. Wouldn't miss it. And in a couple of days he did go back, did go to the fair. Then — "I guess this vacation isn't working out," he told Dorothy. "I'm not making you or the kids happy." They talked for a long time and it was late at night. "I'll drive on up to New York," he said. "But about the car," Dorothy said, try- ing to head off his flight, "I'll need it to get around with the children." "That's right," Bob agreed. Dorothy drove Bob to New York, almost two hundred miles. They were understanding each other better when they reached the Holland Tunnel. Dorothy thought about staying over. Bob already had rooms. "Right there our troubles could have been over," Bob told me later. "But some- thing perverse always seemed to be nudg- ing me. Instead of asking her to stay, I said she could use the phone in my room to get a reservation. I hated myself while she called around. Then she left. Drove all the way back in a heavy fog. "I was the one in the fog. I'd been there a long time. Dorothy is the best. Intelli- gent, beautiful, loyal, a wonderful mother. I don't know what's wrong. Maybe it's the place, this Hollywood. Maybe it's me. Th«" money? I earned $25,000 a week once and got to keep $376 net. . . . "If I sound like a fool, I am, but I'm my own fool. Nobody else's. I don't want this marriage to end. I don't want a lot of things to go on as they have been, and these things have nothing to do with my wife. Maybe I'll find out when I have that so-called freedom. Anyway, we'll find out in a few days. . . ." He didn't know then that everything was going to explode the next day. . . . I had a morning paper with me when I stopped in at the corner gas station. The attendant indicated the headlines. "I sup- pose you writer guys will really give it to Mitchum now," he said. "Oh, I don't know." "Look," he said. "I don't know him. But I know about myself. A few years back I got off on the wrong foot. One thing led to another. I didn't really do anything wrong, but I drank myself right out of a job and I lost my wife and two kids in the bargain. It took me two years to get them back. Now I really amount to something. I take collection in church. I work with a boy's club. You'll see, Mitchum will turn out all right." I had a date then to talk to Red Skelton. "Mitchum?" Red said. "Too bad about him, you say? Look, I haven't seen the headlines yet, so don't tell me. First, let me tell you something about him." Red went to the files in his office. He brought out a folder with some pictures. "See these pictures?" he asked. "They be- long to the Pacific Boys' Lodge. All those boys have been in court for one reason or another, but they aren't sent to any re- formatory. They go to the Lodge. A lot of outstanding citizens support the Lodge and a few motion picture people have helped in getting funds and inspiring these kids. a lot of good . . . "We had a basketball game to get funds for a new building, and some other events too. None of it ever got into the papers. Some of the people we expected to show up never did. But Bob Mitchum was there. He's done a lot of good." Then Red and I talked about Bob. It was Red's thought that Bob was lucky, strange as that may seem. "Think how close he can get to kids like these now," he said. "He can do more than a hundred men who lecture kids and don't know what it means to be in trouble." Up at the little house on Glen Oak Drive the newspaper watch was waiting for Dorothy Mitchum's return. A line a news- paper columnist had used came to mind. It had been published two months before and was strictly a guess. "Bob and Mrs. Mitchum have mended their troubles." In his notes, Bob had commented on this item. "Like a girl mends her stockings?" he wrote bitterly. "By buying more? Troubles of the heart are agonies we keep passionately guarded, and they are highly salable secrets .... He (the columnist) fervently hopes there will be no divorce for a long time- — I hope forever." Mrs. Bob Mitchum drove up with the kids. She went up the walk. Bob opened the door. His arms went around her. "Bob," she said. The dialogue was not intended for a third act curtain line, but it was the real climax to the story of Robert Mitchum. The door closed, and I thought of what Bob had scribbled on that miserable eve- ning so short a time before: "We want very much to be alone to- gether." The End THIS LITTLE VOICE WENT NO, NO, NO! (Continued from page 61) forget some irksome promise, perhaps even one made in thoughtless haste, let her try to neglect some obligation, and it starts wiggling until she decides to remember. People have been known to rebel against their consciences. But they can't win, Loretta is convinced, if they have "wig- gling, loud" ones. Take the case of the time she tried to overcome that inner voice once during the war. One morning she was scheduled to make a promised appearance at a Lockheed employees' bond rally. As she sat down to breakfast, she suddenly felt light-headed and dismally ill. Which was certainly natural, con- sidering that Loretta was a prospective mother. And it was also natural that, feeling as wretched as she did, she should shrink from the prospect of struggling through a speech at that rally. At her elbow was a telephone. A quick call and a quick explanation and she could lounge back and "enjoy her misery quietly." The tussle between her physical misery and her conscience raged for a quarter of an hour. "The only sensible thing to do is call off the date," cried her misery. "No!" came back the conscience. "You've promised. Lying still won't make you feel any better. 1 will see to that! You'll hear from me, if you don't go. You'll hear from me all day long!" That noon Loretta was at the rally. Not long afterward came a most gratifying reward for her fortitude. Loretta is chair- man of the board of directors of St. Anne's Maternity Hospital, an institution founded to give haven and care to unmarried mothers. A drive for fifty thousand dol- lars in new funds was under way. Since everyone was contributing to war efforts, the drive was making slow headway. But what's the name? Like to juggle words? Here's a game to test your skill. Following is a list of forty names — the first names of Hollywood actors and actresses. If you match one with another you'll get the complete names of twenty famous per- sonalities. Try it — then turn to page 105 for the solution and your rating. 1: ABEL 21: ARTHUR 2: ERWIN 22: EDWARD 3: JOAN 23: STUART 4: SHIRLEY 24: WARREN S: RAYMOND 25: ARNOLD 6: TONY 26: CHESTER 7: HARRY 27: WALTER 8: PATRICK 28: EDDY 9: FRANCIS 29: RANDOLPH 10: JAMES 30: GENE 11: RUSSELL 31: BENNY 12: MELVYN 32: BRUCE 13: VIRGINIA 33: GAIL 14: JEAN 34: LESLIE IS: HAROLD 35: ANNE 16: KAY 36: LLOYD 17: MORRIS 37: DOUGLAS 18: NELSON 38: SCOTT 19: WILLIAM 39: MARTIN 20: ROSALIND 40: JACK at Lockheed the employees had formed what they called "The Buck of the Month Club" for the purpose of making contributions to worthy causes. To St. Anne's there soon came a substantial check from the club. Substantial enough to help St. Anne's well along the way toward its goal. Since to be a star in Hollywood is to be one of some 200 persons who vie with each other for the favor of millions of their fellow citizens, the stress on self is apt to be fierce. But in order to keep thinking of one's self all the time a cer- tain degree of deafness, blindness and a dulled sense of touch is required to keep the outer world from intruding. When you properly' achieve such a state it is termed absent-mindedness and taken as a mark of genius. Here is where Loretta fails badly. With as much right as any- one to be egocentric she has little chance with that unsleeping conscience of hers. And Loretta is awfully interested in the little things of life; things your true, moody artist, surrounded by his or her mental wall, would hardly know existed. Is the cook's brother-in-law going to get married? Why are the people who own the house on the hill adding a new room? Have they got a new baby or is some- one coming to live with them? Why are those fences up on that corner property near the market; are they going to build there? What is it going to be? Why do the leaves on the Chinese Elm fall con- tinuously? Don't they know there is such a thing as seasons? And so on for all the days she has lived, and all the days before her, as far as she knows. Most often this all-embracing curiosity of Loretta's works out along fine, bene- ficial lines. When she was ready to start in The Bishop's Wife, for example, her stand-in came to her looking deeply troubled. Gregg Toland, the camera chief — whose untimely death occurred this Sep- tember— had told her she was not suitable for the job; her face was too square, her color wrong. Much as Loretta's sympathies were with the girl, how could she oppose the man responsible for the photography of the picture? But something made her go see Gregg anyway. She didn't know quite what she had in mind, but that old conscience was working and she went to see him anyway. The first thing she told Gregg was that he was perfectly right in refusing to use the girl. But, she went on, she found herself wondering just why a differently shaped face or variance in color inter- fered with good camera work. Would Gregg explain? What happened then should have hap- pened to a physics student — not Loretta. Gregg started away back with Newton's work on optics. He gave her light, light reflection, the coefficient of light absorp- tion, and the albugineous properties of various types of human pigment when struck by light. What he was trying to say was that a fair skin needs less light than a dark skin, but that wasn't the way Loretta heard it. Nevertheless, she thanked him and said it was very interesting and to the point. He was so right. He was so right that she was going straight to her stand-in and explain everything he had said so she wouldn't feel so badly about losing her job, what with a mother to support and all. With a sad, sweet smile, she turned to leave. 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"And that albig stuff and everything?" Gregg nodded. "I think there's some- thing in Einstein's work which will han- dle everything," he said. "I'll — I'll look it up right away." Loretta thinks she got into the habit of letting her conscience get the upper hand when she first started work in the studios. At 15 she was already a star and greatly in demand. One of the things that used to irritate a certain producer was the fact that Loretta, since she was under age, was under the constant supervision of a state teacher and permitted to work only a limited number of hours a day. He made a suggestion to her one day and Loretta, in love with the romance of her work, agreed. At five -thirty every afternoon she would leave the set in the company of her teacher and go home. At her front door they would exchange farewells. "Good afternoon, Loretta," the teacher would say. "Study your homework, get a good night's sleep, and I'll pick you up first thing in the morning." "Yes, ma'am," Loretta would reply politely. Whereupon the teacher would go on and Loretta would enter her house — to emerge from the back door, get into a waiting studio car and go back to work in front of the cameras until three in the morning! A tiny little voice used to pipe up inside of her someplace those days — the as-yet- undeveloped wiggler — but she would beat it down firmly. And then one day the three a.m. routine caught up with her and Loretta found herself lying in a hospital exhausted from overwork. She was weeks recovering and her only comfort was that, at least, she had helped this producer and he would be appreciative of her herculean efforts. But when she returned to him she dis- covered that she had been off salary every day she was in the hospital! All the time she'd thought she'd been fooling her teacher, she'd actually been fooling her- self! And the only voice which had warned her had been the little one from within. From that day on it has been the voice she's listened to, not only in connection with her career but as a guide to her everyday actions. It has been a good mentor. It has di- rected a lot of splendid decisions for her. Wiggling and loud though it is, her at- tention to it has not become a burden — her sense of humor and clear sense of val- ues keep it in its constructive place in her life. A life of work and home and fam- ily which makes her a fulfilled woman — a constantly finer actress — and, for all of these things, a grateful human being. The End ARTANIS KNARF (Continued from page 47) said his hair was turning white. He said for us to get on a train before he col- lapsed. "Before you collapse!" I said indignantly. "You're safe in New York, you're not fly- ing around the country with these maniacs. I'm supposed to be navigator, but this map they've dreamed up looks silly to me. Just a lot of crooked lines." "Oh, Lord!" George said in anguished tones. "Put Bob Lee on the phone." Bob reassured him, and we got started again eventually. When we reached Co- lumbus we called George again. "Take it easy," Frank told him. "We'll be in be- fore you know it. Keep in touch with the control tower at LaGuardia. Here's our plane number." Actually it wasn't too long afterward that George, pacing the soles off his shoes at LaGuardia, heard our number an- nounced. Then he really started getting panicky, because about ten planes were over the field, waiting to land. The control tower gave us our landing number. The plane ahead of us was a DC-3 and the one behind us was a Constellation. "You have 25 seconds to land," the tower informed our plane and George gave a moan of anguish. As we came down toward the field it felt like a power dive. I covered my eyes — and darned if we didn't make a fine land- ing. Frank was very pleased. "Only way to travel," he declared largely. That's Frank. If I'm an old man before my time, blame it on Sinatra. Let's go back a few years to the time he first came into my life. In 1939 I was Tommy Dorsey's manager. I'd been with him for three years. One day in Chicago he came around to me and said, "Bobby, I'm thinking about taking on a new singer. A guy by the name of Sinatra." I'd heard Frank in person and on records and I thought he was just what we needed. "He's with James at the Palmer House," Tommy said. "Give him a ring and see if he can duck over here tonight between shows. Just for a little talk." You know what happened. Harry James gave him a release, and Frank joined our band the next week in Milwaukee. When he first got there, Tommy took me aside. "Say, Bobby, kinda look out for the kid, will you? He doesn't know anybody in the band and it might be a little tough for him at first." That's how it happened that Frank and I roomed together for the next three years whenever we were on the road. But Tommy needn't have worried about Frank. Frank makes friends faster than a dog gets fleas. What really gave me a boot was how hard the kid worked. He knew he could do a good job for us, but he knew he couldn't do it just by sitting around. Right then was when he started to wear me out and he's been doing it ever since. Look at the schedule we had on the road. Play till two in the morning, grab a quick meal, get on the bus and ride till noon next day. Get a few hours' sleep, then some food and play all evening. But was that enough for Frank? Never! He spent half his sleeping time learning new arrangements. He made appearances with Tommy and the Pied Pipers in record stores. Whatever anybody asked him to do, he said yes. That's a habit I've been trying to break him of for darned near nine years now. I guess I'll never succeed. If I did, he wouldn't be Frank. In a year or so, we got a chance to go to Hollywood and make a picture. We were all pretty pleased with the idea. We had visions of lying in that warm sun, eating avocados, and walking with beautiful star- lets in the moonlight. Visions is just what they were, too, ex- cept for the avocados. Because we were booked to play at the Palladium at the same time we made the picture. Brother, Mexican jumping beans weren't in it with us. But Frank had had a neat little vision of his own, and his came true. He wanted to meet Bing Crosby. "That Bing's the greatest singer in the world," he'd say to me, wistfully. "Do you think I might get to meet him, huh?" I'd say I didn't know, which was the truth. Sure, the picture was being made at Paramount and that was Bing's studio, but Bing wasn't making a picture now. He was away somewhere, only I hated to tell Frankie that. He found it out, of course, as soon as he got to the studio. So he went around for a week looking like a small boy when Mom says, "No cookies today." Until one day. We were shooting a long sequence of the band playing and Frank making with the tonsils. I happened to glance over my shoulder and practically froze in that position. Because there was the Groaner himself, lounging in the door back of us, and looking as if he liked what he was hearing. He got hold of Dorsey as soon as the scene was over and said, "This Sinatra. Very good, Tommy, very good. I think you've got something there." Then Tom- my introduced Frank to him, and I thought the kid was going to faint. Later Frank grabbed me and rushed me outside. "Bobby, you mean he was there all the time? Listening? Gee, I hope I sang all right." "Bing seemed to think you sang okay," I told him, grinning, "and I understand he's a pretty fair judge." After we left California we traveled all over the country. And we all had one pet gripe. Tommy had bought a bus for the band to ride in. Painted silver it was, and a very fancy-looking job. But the seats wouldn't tilt back, and the thing bounced all over the road and when you got through a long trip you felt as if every bone in your body was broken. We used to beg Tommy to let us drive our own cars, but he was afraid we wouldn't make the next stop on time if we did. One night Frank and I did miss the bus, because he'd been calling Nancy long- distance. Ordinarily, we could have hired a car to catch up in, or taken a train. But this time we were both broke and that's for sure. Of course Frank was always broke, because he lent so much dough to the other guys. Anyway, we decided to hitch-hike. that's ho Curvaceous Esther Williams was wearing a bathing suit of lame on an M-G-M set. "Hmmm," hmmm'd an extra, "thar's hills in them thar gold . . ." Greer Garson gets giggles displaying a clipping reporting an accident she suf- fered. It's from the Monterey Peninsula Herald — which read: "The area in which Miss Garson was injured is spectacularly scenic . . ." Dick Haymes' definition of a glamour girl is probably as good as any: "A girl who has what it takes to take what you have ..." Irving Hoffman in The Hollywood Reporter Ever try hitch-hiking along a strange road at three in the morning? Oh, a few cars go by, but that's just what they do — go by. We were hungry, too, and we finally swiped some raw corn out of a field and ate it. Before long, we did get a ride that caught us up with the bus, but by then it was too late. That raw corn made Frank so sick that he might as well not have been there at all that night when it came to singing. One time Tommy started for New York from a place we'd been playing in Penn- sylvania. He drove his own car, natch, and the rest of us were supposed to start four hours later on the bus, for he had business to attend to in New York before we got there. So we slept an extra four hours, and then piled into the bus. Frank climbed into the driver's seat. "Let's beat that car of Tommy's to New York," he said suddenly. "Hold your hats!" And he started down the road like a bat. At first everyone yelled at him that he was nuts. Then they began to laugh. "Tommy keeps saying what a wonderful bus this is," somebody said. "Let's prove he's right." We rocketed along that road like a sar- dine can rolling downhill. Not that Frank was driving recklessly, you understand. But he sure did kick that crate along as briskly as the law allowed. And when we finally got on the New York ferry, the car ahead of us belonged to one Mr. Thomas Dorsey! I thought he'd have apoplexy when he saw us. Especially when he found out we had burned out various essential parts during the trip. He had to sell the bus after that, and allow us to drive our own cars. But let me say in our favor that we were never late. Well, those days ended for me when I went into the Army. Naturally I didn't know when I'd see Frank again — if ever. Then I was sent to a camp near Holly- wood. I knew Frank was out there — he'd become pretty famous since I'd last seen him. I got a yen to talk about old times, and I wrote him a letter and said so. But I thought maybe I'd get back a note signed by a secretary saying, "Mr. Sinatra is too busy." Instead I got a phone call. "Bobby, you old so-and-so, get yourself a pass as soon as you can and come up here for a week end. Boy, do I want to see you!" He wanted to see me! Things like that explain why Frank has more friends than any guy in the world. I spent a lot of weekends at Frank's house after that. Nancy is the kind of wonderful hostess who lets you relax com- pletely and do as you please, instead of trying to fit you into her plans. "What you going to do when you get out of the service, Bobby?" Frank asked me one day. "I don't know yet. I've had a couple of offers." "Well, here's one I'd like you to give a little special attention to. I'd like you to come and work for me. I need somebody like you." It took me about one-fifth of a second to forget those other offers. One day I said to Frank, "I sure wish you could be best man at my wedding." After all, we'd worked together off and on for eight years. When a guy is your best friend as well as your prospective boss, you naturally want him around when you take the big step. But Frank was in- volved in a million things. "I know how busy you are ..." I said, trying to sound casual. "That busy, I never get," Frank said, grinning. "If you're going to climb into a straitjacket, I want to be there to lace it." I laughed. I always laugh at Franks AMAZING NEW DEW SPRAY DEODORANT in the Magical "Self-Atomizing" Squeezable Bottle! STOPS PERSPIRATION AND ODOR TROUBLES Daintier than creams! Dew never touches hands, nails. Not messy. Just squeeze new flexible bottle. Spray on a gentle mist. Only deodorant containing "Retselane" to stop perspiration troubles safely, protect clothes from perspiration stains. 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Don't be handicapped all your life. Be a High School graduate. Start your training now. Fre* J Bulletin on request. No obligation. American School, H914, Drexel at 58th, Chicago 37 Unsafe)/ 98 Asthma attacks without warning -' prepared with Asthmador Cigarettes, Powder or Pipe Mix— for relief from the painful, suffocating paroxysms. Breathe Asthmador's aromatic, medicated fumes and you'll find this time-tested inhalant I tops for convenience and dependability At all drug stores DR. R. SCHIFFMANN'S :Hi:iiil!lilil; jokes. He claims I do it to be polite, but that's not so. I think he's one of the fun- niest guys in the world. "When and where's the wedding?" he asked. "The day of my Army discharge. Right at the camp. But of course that's eighty miles from Hollywood." "I know that, you dope. I've been down there often enough in the last few months." He had, too, entertaining the boys, and usually bringing along his whole radio show to help. He was considering me now, thought- fully. "Might need a little help, being best man. Okay if I bring Phil Silvers or some- body to help hold us both up?" I said that would be fine. The days skidded by and all of a sudden it was my wedding day. Frank was a little late that afternoon. Finally I went out by the gate and paced up and down waiting for him, just for something to do. I was watching for his convertible and hardly glanced at the big Greyhound bus marked chartered that swung in beside me. Then a voice yelled from the bus, "Hey, Burns. I can see your knees shaking from here!" -It was Frank. It was also half the rest of Hollywood. Phil Silvers, Axel Stordahl, Nancy, a whole set of musicians from the old Dorsey band. Any room that was left was taken up with wedding pres- ents. Seemed like a million of them. I really felt myself getting all sentimental inside. Know what Frank's wedding present to me was? Honest, that guy is terrific! Here I was, just out of the Army, no civilian clothes and none available. So he had had his tailor make me a whole new ward- robe! It was really a thing. After the honeymoon in New York, we came back to the Coast and I went to work for Frank as a combination secretary - manager-timetable. I knew him so well by that time that it wasn't like taking on a completely new job. But Frank was a different proposi- tion now from what he had been in the old days. He was a figure of national in- terest. Not only was he the idol of a mil- lion bobby-soxers, but he was doing important work in the campaign against racial intolerance. He was giving benefits by the dozen. He was a picture star as well as a radio singer. All of that affected my job. Because Frank was still saying yes to everything. I found I had to act as a buffer between him and all the requests he got, or he would forget and make dates to be in three different places at once. I soon discovered one thing about Frank. His mind is always occupied. We'll be driving along in the car, me with my mind on nothing except maybe where we could pick up a hamburger. But Frank, quiet for a long time, will suddenly come up with something. Like "I think we oughta make a short for the Cancer Fund. I've been working it out in my mind. It'll go like this . . ." And, sure enough, there it is, all worked out for presentation. I've come to have a lot of respect for those silences. Maybe I'm giving you too serious a pic- ture of the guy. Maybe I'm making him sound angelic, and he isn't. He clowns more often than he's serious, and some- times he does things that just about drive me crazy. Like his getting into the habit of calling me "Burns." Around the studio, Frank will let out a yell you can hear from here to Harlem— "Hey, BURNS!" And now the rest of the gang has taken to doing the same thing. I hear "Hey, BURNS!" in my sleep. I mean that literally, too. Because Frank loves to stay up late — the later, sweet and hot by leonard feather ""Highly Recommended * Recommended No Stars: Average FROM THE MOVIES A SONG IS BORN — Stealing Apples: **Benny Goodman (Capitol). A Song Was Born: *Louis Armstrong (Victor). Daddy-O: *Dinah Shore (Columbia); *Page Cava- naugh (Victor). Blind Barnabas: *Golden Gate Quartet (Columbia). Flying Home: *Lionel Hampton (Decca), *Benny Good- man Sextet (Columbia). Redskin Rhumba: *Charlie Barnet (National). I'm Getting Sentimental Over You: *Tommy Dorsey (Victor). If you're a jazz fan, this department ad- vises you not to miss the picture, even if it isn't Danny Kaye's best. NIGHT HAS A THOUSAND EYES— title song: *Vic Damone (Mercury), Art Mooney (MGM). PALEFACE— Buttons and Bows: * Betty Rhodes (Victor), Betty Garrett (MGM). SO DEAR TO MY HEART— Lavender Blue: *Dinah Shore (Columbia); Jack Smith and Clark Sisters (Capitol). WHEN MY BABY SMILES AT ME— By The Way: *Jo Stafford (Capitol); Dick Haymes (Decca); Art Lund (MGM). What Did I Do: Margaret Whiting (Capitol); ♦Helen Forrest (MGM). HOT JAZZ COLEMAN HAWKINS— *April In Paris (Victor). ALBUMS GENE KELLY— *Song and Dance Man (MGM). PIED PIPERS — *Harvest Moon (Capitol). the better — while I am strictly a Cinder- ella type, all for getting in the sack by midnight. But when we're living to- gether, which is frequently, just let me start to doze off, and — "Burns! We gotta talk. Let's not have any sleeping around here at this hour." Then another thing. He loves to make me sing. I can't sing a note, can't carry a tune even one bar, never could. But every once in a while, Frank will put on that hypnotic smile of his and say, "Bobby, sing 'I'm An Old Cowhand.' " Like a dope, I do it, and Frank laughs so hard they have to dump cold water on him to keep him from having a fit of hysterics. Nobody minds things like that from Frank, though. He's just as willing to be kidded himself. Frank's children are one of the chief attractions for me in that household. That little Nancy. She'll call me up on the telephone. "Uncle Bobby. When are you coming over?" "Maybe this evening, sweetheart." "Well, that's good. Because I have a new jigsaw puzzle and I don't want to start it till you get here." So I rush over and spend the evening lying on my stomach doing a jigsaw puzzle with Nancy. When it's her bedtime, I talk to big Nancy awhile and then probably Frank and I get involved in a long discus- sion about the split-second timing we will need to get everything done the follow- ing day. I suppose it's sort of a strange life I lead, and it's the .kind of job that goes on 24 hours a day. But when you're work- ing for a guy like Frank, who cares? The End ..6azine, Variety. ..xicer and director, was eady to launch a road com- jj. nis hit play, Born Yesterday. Gar- son Kanin . . . She had met him once. Four years ago. Maybe . . . Impulsively, she reached for the tele- phone. She dialed Long Distance and placed her call — and then she began to quake, and a little chill skipped along her spine. She was always doing the wrong thing, she reflected shiveringly, and this — this could be her prize boner. Why, any fool could tell you that it wasn't the thing to do, calling a big shot clear across a con- tinent to tell him you could act. Maybe if you hung up real quickly nobody would know — but now it was too late, because already Garson Kanin was on the line, and you had to say something. . . . Such was the beginning, however im- probable, of today's boom for Shelley Win- ters, Hollywood's "wrong-way kid," who has achieved the eminence of Discovery of the Year by doing the "wrong thing" at practically every opportunity. Five-feet- four, her 115 pounds dynamically distrib- uted, Shelley at 25 is the screen's newest femme fatale, a torchy little honey whose impact made critics yip as they did for the early Bette Davis. And she's still exuberantly jumpy and impulsive, obeying those impulses and having them somehow turn out right. Like that telephone call, for instance. She didn't dream it then, but that spur-of- the-moment dialing was to set her small feet squarely on stardom's path. It was to lead to her memorable role as the little tramp of a waitress whom Ronald Colman strangled in his Oscar-winning A Double Life. She was to parlay that small role — a death scene, plus thirty lines of dialogue and a few sequences of insolent sultriness preceding her demise — into a career that sizzles with promise. This cute youngster who thought she was "so ugly," has already moved ahead rapidly in four more films: The Cry of the City, The Great Gatsby, Larceny and Criss-Cross. Along the ex- citing way she has signed a Universal - International contract, chosen from a wel- ter of studio offers. And she has known the thrill of hearing producers mutter, "Yes, but can we borrow Shelley Winters?" Some of the same producers, too, who had helped convince her she was the homeliest critter this side of Dogpatch! And all because of her positive talent for "the wrong thing." Consider that call to Kanin. Having made it,- knowing it wasn't the thing to do, did she state her case and ask for a job? Not Shelley. No. The dialogue ran like this: "Hello. . . . Yes, this is Garson Kanin." "Oh. Mr. Kanin, this is Shelley Winters." "Oh, yes . . ." Pause — while Kanin tried to remember who in blazes Shelley Winters might be. "Mr. Kanin, I wonder — I mean — er — how's the weather back there?" "Fine. And how is it in Hollywood?" "It's — it's fine here, too. Well — er — well, goodbye now." That was all. Her nerve completely wilted, Shelley hung up in confusion, feel- ing very, very silly. Imagine calling Long Distance to talk about the weather! What would Kanin think? But the call probably impressed Kanin by its very pointlessness. At any rate, when Shelley followed through with a H .... .^utu promptly. No stage job for her, he said, but he and his wife Ruth Gordon had just written a movie. His brother Michael in Hollywood was filming it, so why didn't Shelley go see him? The movie was A Double Life, and Shelley was on her way — to fame, fortune — and more faux pas. She came from a stage career barely notable enough to win her the most meager of passports to pictures — train fare and a short-lived Columbia contract. Once ar- rived, she spent three years being told how sensationally undecorative she was. At first, nobody seemed to know anything about her or why she had come, although some vague reference had been made to a part in Rita Hayworth's Cover Girl. When she was finally noticed, the atten- tion was most disheartening. A makeup man studied her blue-eyed blondeness for a while, then shook his head. "You need to have your hairline raised," he sighed despondently. "You need your teeth braced, too, and — oh yes, you ought to have your nose bobbed." Shelley ducked the second two sugges- tions, but shelled out $400 for electrolysis aimed at a higher brow. "Then," she recalls, "they gave me pink hair and a wide mouth, to look as much as possible like Rita Hayworth. I didn't — I looked a fright. They put me to work, after all this makeup, in A Thousand and One Nights — with my face hidden behind a veil." Taking the hint, Shelley laid aside one U. S. savings bond a month against the time of her departure from steady salary. The time came, and she embarked on a free-lance career which caused nobody to dance in the streets. She ate one bond a month, and she took screen tests, feeling uglier with every test. At 20th Century-Fox they gave her hair a Betty Grable up-do and applied other cosmetic treatment, but vetoed her chances. "You're hopeless, your voice is all wrong, and you have three left feet," they said. (Recently she played there in The Cry of the City.) At M-G-M they made her up like Lucille Ball. "Ye gods," the makeup man an- swered her mild protests, "you don't want to look like you, do you?" Squelched, she played a small role in Living in a Big Way while her personal living dwindled along with her savings. (M-G-M wanted to borrow her, not long ago, for a movie life of Jean Harlow.) At Warners, she got an Ann Sheridan treatment, and another brush-off that made her feel as glamorous as Gravel Gertie. (Warners, since the Winters boom began, also has tried to borrow her.) Everywhere it was the same. She had one of the most thoroughly disparaged faces in town, and her ego was flatter than last year's slang. She was convinced that she needed at least a ton of makeup to brave a camera. But when she landed her role as wait- ress-hussy in A Double Life — "No makeup," said George Cukor flatly. Shelley tried to fool him. A gal had to have glamor. 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Easy to prove on a test lock of your hair. First application must satisfy you or money back. 75c and $1,75 — all drug- gists. Retain youthful charm. Get Brownatone now. "But I'm so uv believing it. "I "Stay away plied, "That' But to the v. was a challenge: Shelley smuggled herseit mio projection room after the others were seated. She thought she'd escape unnoticed before the lights went on again. But it was so-o-o-o interesting that she forgot. And in her excitement she began telling Pro- ducer Michael Kanin how he should cut his picture. She must have been very cute about it, because ordinarily that's a good way for an unknown actress to buy a ticket to oblivion. "I guess,"' Shelley muses now, "I shouldn't do things like that. But it seems to me that movies are so departmentalized. I mean, everybody attends to their own business and you're not supposed to make sugges- tions outside your own department." She was so tense and nervous in her first scenes (thinking of her "ugliness") that she almost lost the part. But Shelley soon relaxed enough to make a few suggestions about her dialogue. When Cukor liked one of these, she was elated and made more. One day Author Garson Kanin memo'd: "Shelley dear, I know you've written many distinguished plays, but do you mind saying my lines as I wrote them?" That cured her. "Since then," she avers, "I've never tried to improve my lines." But her zeal for "un-departmentalizing" the movies has found outlet in other direc- tions. It reached dangerous proportions on Larceny, for instance. Here Mr. Lane (Shotgun) Britton, her makeup man, ad- mirer and confidant, had to rush in to smooth out a "situation." Seems Shelley, eager to help, was telling the veteran cameraman how she preferred to be photographed! "You just don't do that, Shelley!" warned Shotgun, after tranquillity was restored. "Oh," said Shelley, contrite, "I didn't know." Fortunately for her future, the girl makes these voluntary contributions to cinema uplift with a friendliness, zest and enthusiasm that soon win forgiveness. Even in her theatrical beginnings, Shel- ley violated that prime rule of the stage trouper: "Never overstay your welcome." As a moppet named Shirley Schrift, she made her way to a theater's Shirley Temple contest in her native St. Louis. She shrieked "On the Good Ship Lollipop" and kept on shrieking it until they finally had to re- move her from the stage. She won a con- solation prize. Apparently she never recovered, because by her 'teens she was persuading her father, a designer of men's clothing, that his future really lay in New York. Her mother, the former Rose Winters of St. Louis' famed municipal opera, was sym- pathetic. They moved to Brooklyn. Highlight of Shelley's dramatic career at Thomas Jefferson High there was her per- formance as Katisha in The Mikado. The school had two orchestras, which joined forces for this production without prior rehearsal as a unit. The resulting cacoph- ony had reached a nice frenzy by the time Katisha entered for her aria. As Shel- ley recalls it, the chorus was singing some- thing the orchestra wasn't playing, and poor Katisha was stumped. This time she did the wrong thing — stepped out of char- acter— and made a hit. "Excuse me a minute?" she asked the thousand faces in the audience. Then she turned to the orchestra: "Let's start over and get together!" The thousand faces roared and cheered. Her prolessional debut was as a model in a metropolitan garment center And it went of course al1 wrong. sational. Sheiic., t sang and danced in niu^- to keep her in doughnuts aiu. family home to go it alone. Almost . enough, that is. There was one time when she ushered at the Belasco Theater for $8 a week during an "at liberty" period — and impulsively spent all her cash on a fancy bathing suit in which to audition for a part. She didn't get it, and went two days with- out food. The stage career was not, however, with- out distinction of a sort — the wrong sort. In the musicai Rosalinda oheuey naa a good singing role. Rather lost in the music's complications, Shelley connived with the orchestra's oboe player (who carried the melody in her important number) to cue her. He would throw his head back, they agreed, as a signal that she should sing. "It worked fine," she reports cheerfully, "except the second night — he tnrew his head back too far, lost his balance, and knocked down half the orchestra." Despite this Winters-connected catastro- phe, Rosalinda sent Shelley to Hollywood, with results partially aforetoid. The wnole results, at this writing, are still unfolding. After completing A Liouole Life, she took time out to go to New York for a part in Oklahoma! She returned from New York and Okla- homa! still unaware what A Double Life would mean to her. In practical terms it has meant a contract for three times the money she might have had if they'd signed her before the film's release. Nearly a thousand a week, with more promised. Meanwhile, the Winters life has settled down to routine confusion. She used to share a small apartment with mother, father, and sister Blanche, a pediatric nurse. An aunt and uncle were close neighbors — "and all my relatives moved out from St. Louis, and — oh, yes, the baby . . ." The baby, it developed, was a "borrowed" one from a motherless home upstairs. It spent the day at Shelley's while its father worked. (Shelley's own marriage, an im- pulsive wartime union now dissolved, pro- duced no offspring.) Recently Shelley moved into her own small apartment in Hollywood, but bedlam moved with her. Oversupplied with energy and vitality, she creates her own — "just by being in a room," as someone observed. She keeps on the go. She works. When not working, she dashes breathlessly through her days, usually half an hour late for appointments, always with fantastic but legitimate reasons for her tardiness. She telephones friends, endlessly, for ad- vice which she usually, and impulsively, ignores. And equal to her talent for doing the "wrong thing" is her gift for saying, with- out thinking, what she thinks. Recently, for instance, at a Jack Warner party the big man was reproaching Shelley for sign- ing with U-l rather than with WB. Shelley, ever outspoken, told him of her Warners test. "But why didn't 1 see it?" he protested. "You did see it," said Shelley blithely, "and it was you who turned me down." Reminded later that it is lese majeste in Hollywood to recall a big shot's oversights, Shelley was unmoved. "Well, he did turn me down, didn't he?" she demanded innocently, as if that made any difference. But when you can be a "wrong-way kid" in the Winters way — who'd ever want to be "right"' The End ^ J.CU1, j-^sea her illness as ju pressure and a general . condition. He kept her tucked axx Jed for more than a week. Coming out of the hospital, Rita spent most of July just resting and getting well. So far, she had acted in a predictable man- ner. Nothing sensational. Nothing for the headlines. On July 23 she was in Cannes, registered at the fashionable Eden Roc, apartment Number 34. On that date Orson Welles arrived at Eden Roc and registered in apartment Number 29. The word went out, the newspaper col- umnists moved in and there immediately began the story of Rita Hayworth's adven- tures on the French Riviera. The August 1 issue of France Diman- che, Parisian weekly, carried a picture of Rita Hayworth and Orson Welles dining together. "Orson Welles says, 'I shall never re- marry Rita Hayworth'," whooped the headline. "Orson Welles, the youthful genius, and Rita Hayworth spent a night at Cannes . . . but strictly honorable," the story went on to say. "Gilda (Miss Hayworth was called by the name of the character she had made known throughout the world by her por- trayal on the screen) did not appreciate the pleasantry. She is still very much in love with her ex-husband. . . . "The night of his arrival, Orson Welles invited Gilda to dine with him at Chez Francis at La Garoupe. " 'He truly treated me as if I'd never been his wife,' sighed Miss Hayworth." France Dimanche neglected to say to whom "Gilda" sighed. "After dinner they had a drink at La Jungle, a cabaret in Cannes. On leaving around four o'clock in the morning, Orson, who was feeling very gay, embraced Gilda a la Francaise." (Meaning, of course that he kissed her noisily on both cheeks.) "At five o'clock in the morning," you could almost hear the France Dimanche MODERN SCREEN "I've got news, Pop! I was held over for another twenty-six weeks' engagement." ire found to- iler) on a bench .Now, it is necessary to point out that the French papers have a typical Gallic approach to romance items and sometimes go to far greater lengths then their Ameri- can cousins in reporting affairs of the heart. It is well to remember that every- one in France, from diplomats to the least shopgirl, wanted the glamorous American star to behave in a manner befitting French ideas of movie star behavior It's possible that Rita and Orson spent an exceedingly gay evening together — and it is also possible that the evening was no more exciting than an excursion to the local bistro of Cranberry Corners, Idaho. Whatever the case, the newspaper stories were unfortunate. They established Rita as a type, m'sieu, that the Continent had not seen since pre-war days — gay, beau- tiful, dashing, careless of reputation, typical of those mad Hollywood beauties portrayed in American films. echoes at home . . . The story created such an uproar that echoes were heard in New York. Paris reporters for American newspapers were asked where they had been wasting their time when Rita Hayworth and Orson Welles announced their plans to marry again. It isn't difficult to understand why the newspaper boys began to watch Rita with the worried expression of men with a bomb in their midst. The pressure was on. From this point forward, Rita would be big news. Orson Welles went back to Rome on the day. after his "reunion" with Rita. And Rita retired to the quiet of her apartment. It is possible that she should have talked to the press; her seclusion only added fuel to the fire of rumors. Rita's self-imposed retirement was brief. It was in the fashionable club Paradis a short time later that it was decided Rita had completely recuperated and was once more in "great form." This deduction was obvious when, in stocking feet, Miss Hay- worth demonstrated a wicked samba. The eager partner was Alberto Dodero, Vene- zuelan millionaire. Although often referred to as "the pompous SefLor Dodero," he didn't hesitate to discard his white dinner jacket, the better to match the antics of his spirited partner. Even Mohammed Rega, the Shah of Iran, during 48 hours of liberty allotted him by protocol, spent his precious time pur- suing the most sought-after woman in France. Shah or not, he was the recipient of a Hayworth brush-off. It seems he did manage to say hello to her, and was under the impression that she was to dine with him at Eden Roc on his last night in town. But Rita didn't show. After a two-hour wait, he finally gave up and consoled him- self by having two of the prettiest of the pretty Viseux sisters join him for the eve- ning. It is now time to introduce Ali Khan, a character in the pageant of Rita's holiday. He takes a bit of introducing. Ali Khan, be it said, is son of the Right Honorable Aga Sultan Sir Mohammed Shah (better known as the Aga Khan) . The Right Hon- orable is probably the richest man in the world. Every year his people, the Ismail Mohammedans, pay their beloved leader an amount of gold equal to his weight. On the fiftieth anniversary of his reign, they made it diamonds — and that year he tipped the scale at a neat 272 pounds! Prince Ali Khan, with that sort of inhe- all in for all That's MODERN SCREEN'S bright new show, Red Benson's Movie Matinee. It's an audience participation show like no other with a laugh a minute and prizes galore. You'll enjoy this fun- filled half-hour. Folks in New York City think it's Mutual's top daytime quiz! 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See for yourself how easy It is to learn any instrument right at home, in spare time, with- out a private teacher. U. s SCHOOLOF MUSIC. 14412BrunswickBli New York 10. N. Y. FREE PRINT AND PICTURE SAMPLE 102 U. S. SCHOOL OF MUSIC 14412 Brunswick Bklq.. New York 10, N. Y. Please wend me Free Booklet and Print and Plctur Sample. I would like to play (Name Instrument). Have you Instrument Instrument?.... Name (Please Print) Address ritance ahead ■ how he's goin|,.U£ an attractive gi tary, he gets , riage a dav. and has had h For obvious rea~~. does is news. Let him bow ca'Sui-*-., beautiful lady — the European press will scent a romance. Couple his name with that of a girl already in the headlines, and you have a story that approaches, in sensa- tion, the fabulous Wally Simpson-Prince of Wales romance. Khan, accustomed as he may be to hav- ing beautiful women swooping down on him in droves, was not immune to the Hayworth charm. He first sized her up appreciatively at a party organized by Elsa Maxwell to celebrate the tenth wedding anniversary of Lily Pons and Andre Kos- telanetz. Rita was wearing a ravishing rose-colored gown, purchased during her short stay in Paris. During the evening, when Prince Ali Khan stepped out on the dance floor, the partner he embraced was usually a girl in a ravishing rose-colored gown. It was after Orson Welles had left for Rome and there was gossip of a reconcilia- tion that Ali Khan met Rita again. This time it was at a party given by Alberto Dodero at his fabulous Chateau des Pins. However, it was not until the end of the first week in August, the time of the open- ing of the summer Sporting Club at Monte Carlo, that the romance of Rita and Ali became apparent. It took a great deal of perseverance on the part of the young prince, but by the time the Gala had ended it was obvious to those who had witnessed the public flirtation that the Prince was first contender in the Hay- worth holiday sweepstakes. The opening of the summer Sporting Club of Monte Carlo is one of the biggest events of the season on the French Riviera. This year, in addition to the satisfaction of seeing the Edward G. Robinsons, Maurice Chevalier and Sacha Guitry, the famous French actor-playwright, the guests were caught up in the excitement of watching and commenting on the attempts of Prince Ali Khan to captivate the beautiful Rita. The word was whispered around that Ali Khan was out to steal a kiss from this girl of his princely dreams. One observer re- ported he had tried but had been rebuked in the restaurant. Others reported watch- ing similar futile attempts in the entrance hall and in the cabaret. prince's reward . . . Five hours after the quest for a kiss had started, or at 3 o'clock in the morning, to be exact, interested spectators — and the persistent Ali Khan — were rewarded. Under the spell of the languid rhythm of "Clopin, Clopant," Rita embraced her prince charming and kissed him. This may or may not have been unwise; whatever the case, it made news. (When Molly Jones kisses her escort at the Fire- man's Clambake, no one is more than mildly interested except Molly and her escort. When Rita Hayworth kisses a prince at what, fundamentally, is a Fire- man's Clambake on a somewhat larger scale, columnists quiver and the news strikes into remote corners of the world.) After the Case of the Kiss, everyone was certain of Rita's selection of a vacation companion. As one well-known French scribe summed it up, "Rita took, a long time to make a choice among her numer- ous admirers, but now it's official. Of all those who sighed after her, it is the Prince Ali Khan who has won her company." It had been too interesting a yarn, how- ever, for the scribe to write such a definite finis to it, so he continued with this gem of speculation: "Naturally, she has made june csllysv on the january cover of modern screen on sale december 10 many others jealous, the principal one be- ing Orson Welles. Since his first visit to Cannes to see Rita, he has made several trips between Rome and the French Riv- iera. He arrives unexpectedly and then acts embarrassed about being here at all. "It is said that if Rita left the Hotel du Cap to live at La Reserve de Beaulieu, where it is quieter, it was only to keep from getting involved with Orson Welles." The correspondent explained the two rivals' attitudes and editorialized as fol- lows: "Orson and Ali spy on each other and dodge one another. A fight between the two would provide great sport. Orson is a colossal specimen, and Ali, though not quite so muscular, is nonetheless in good physical shape. He exercises a lot and is quite a sportsman. He is a fighter. This young man, immensely rich, to whom life refuses nothing, loves a fight and pro- vokes it." It was undoubtedly a great disappoint- ment to those who had hoped for a violent physical encounter between Orson Welles and Ali Khan that the fight didn't come off. Instead, by August 20th, the United Press reported that Rita Hayworth and Ali Khan were motoring through Spain. The UP dispatch from Madrid said: "Rita Hayworth is the most popular movie star in Spain today. Everyone knows her by her maiden name of Margarita Car- men Cansino. Nevertheless, she refuses obstinately to receive journalists and has given strict orders to the hotel that no one is to disturb her. A Spanish reporter re- marked, 'She doesn't even speak Spanish any more, but there is not a possible error — with her temperament and disposition, she couldn't possibly have been born any- where but in Spain.' " It was a bad guess on Rita's part, this refusal to receive journalists. But the error is an understandable one. Because of the prominence of her escort and Rita's own fame, her every move had been watched by the press. The reporters had dramatized the slightest flicker of an eyelash and Rita, a girl who simply wanted a vacation, had found herself sharing headlines with the French Cabinet. Irritated by the wild and sometimes spicy items, she made the mistake of underlining them by avoidance of the press. From Madrid, Rita and Prince Ali mo- tored to Lisbon where they stayed at the fashionable resort of Estoril. Besides Rita, the Associated Press reported, "the prince is accompanied by Mr. A. Williams, his secretary, whose chief task is to keep >^^>.j ; and strolled ...» of Biarritz. a. brief trip to San Sebastian Kita showed up on the passenger list of the Queen Elizabeth. Now she's home. Prince Ali? He's down at Mayfair, his Cote d'Azur villa, reportedly planning an early visit to Hollywood. (Whether or not the "romance" will flame again in that more workaday atmosphere is any- body's guess.) Orson Welles, it is said, may marry an Italian girl named Lea Padovani. Rita has her memories of a vacation that involved a Prince. And normally this story could be expected to end here. It doesn't. In addition to flashing across the horizon of European society with Ali Khan, Rita did some things that were not emphasized by the press. She attended a Paris premiere I squired W Group ,nd na- 'jta insisted _-_ Aiations chil- .. rit about this time, i.^-i. secretary announced: "She doesn't want anything printed about her illness because she's afraid people in America might worry." Rita's romance with Prince Ali made the headlines. Rita's appearance at a children's benefit, although noted by the European papers, received quiet treatment. It didn't fit the preconceived pattern of movie-star behavior. Certainly Rita romped around Europe with Ali Khan. It's in the record, it hap- pened and perhaps it was unwise. But any other star of Rita's prominence, if paired with Europe's most eligible male, would have received a comparable amount of gossipy attention. Rita's mistake — if, in- deed any mistake was made — was that of forgetting for a few weeks that she was Rita Hayworth. And the reporters never forgot it. The End MRS. BRISKIN'S DREAM HOUSE (Continued from page 50) organdy, are bounded by blue draperies. The bed is white with a quilted headboard of pink satin, and a duplicate is in the nursery for little Lindsay. An identical one is on order for the littlest Briskin, Candice, whom everyone calls Candy. So all three Briskin women will soon sleep, in beds of the same design. . . . Which brings to mind the loudspeaker attachment in Betty's bedroom that picks up the slightest sounds from the nursery. In most Holly- wood homes, the loudspeaker is located in a nurse's room. But not in Betty's! If one of the children is crying, she wants to be awakened, and in a hurry. Something else she likes to keep close tabs on is her clothes. And to this end all her wardrobe closets are equipped with glass doors so she can see at a glance where every garment is. Her closets are so de- signed that each item of dress has its own compartment. For example, there's a separate space for short blouses and lin- gerie, one for long blouses and sweaters, one for hats and bags, one for gloves, and so on. Compared with some other actresses who practically live in Adrian's and Howard Greer's, Betty doesn't have an extraordi- nary amount of clothing. She has a few dressy things and one new Sophie ward- robe— which consists of 17 outfits. She bought them all in one day on the spur of the moment when she was shopping with her secretary, Susan Hawkins. She was very much pregnant with Candy at the time, and she couldn't stand the sight of maternity clothes any longer. She and Susan went down to Saks Fifth Ave- nue in Beverly Hills and politely asked for a private showing of the new Sophie crea- tions. In one fell swoop, Betty ordered 17 of the 24 outfits shown. Then she had her Paramount dress form sent over to the store, and the dresses were made to fit her regular figure. This served as an added incentive to regain her pre- pregnancy outlines when the time came. Lindsay and Candy have a nursery room which is all sunlight and moonbeams. Windows form two sides of the room and the white walls are covered with nursery- rhyme murals. These were painted by a Walt Disney artist an 1 o cleverly executed that they extend along the toy cupboards, and the knobs on the cabinets constitute Humpty-Dumpty's eyes. The crib in the nursery is a copy of Betty's bed, but its sides are removable and it will become a youth bed before long. In the hall outside the room are two store cabinets which hold the Briskin girls' wardrobes. Like their mother, they'll have to hang their clothes neatly, because the closet doors are made of glass. If you were to judge Betty Hutton's home life by her screen roles, you'd imagine it to be wild, zany, slapstick, raucous. Not so! The Briskins lead a typically Ameri- can middle class life. They're both early risers. Ted, who is a camera manufac- turer, gets to his factory by nine, and Betty, even when she doesn't have to re- port to the studio, is up by seven. For years, when she was playing the night-club circuit, she went to bed at three in the morning and slept till noon; now she turns in at ten and awakens each morning a little after dawn. Ted comes back to lunch each day, and when Betty is working he lunches with little Lindsay. After dinner when the children are abed, the Briskins frequently slip away to their guest house, which is furnished like an old English cottage. Here Betty can study a script while Ted reads, or they both can play gin rummy, or they can hold a little poker party away from the house and the sleeping children. The guest house is equipped with a fireplace; an early English breakfront which displays a china collec- tion; a day bed, and a cock-fight chair made and given to them by George Mont- gomery. Betty says she hopes to have at least three children, and if she does, the present house will be too small. When the third Briskin is en route, she and Ted are going to buy a larger house. "One with two stories and a colonial front." "When I was a little kid," Betty says, "and used to visit my school mates, I found out that the happiest families always seemed to live in two-story colonials." If happiness is any criterion, the Briskins deserve just about the largest colonial house in America. The End ONLY Ml IUI Balance in easy pay- ments. Your Money Back if Not Satisfied. 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Send £. or that a bv ing, believe me, folks say, "Don't tell m&igs- they're not glamorous." And I say, "Bosh!r' It's true that during the war we sent out 90,000 pin-ups of Betty. But the minute Vicki was born, we got so many requests for the three Jameses together that we had to have new photos made — and the same with Jessica. Which proves to me that Betty's fans are interested in her as a human being — in the fact that she's got a husband and kids and sorts her laundry like any other woman. And while we're on the subject of chil- dren, let me say this. Betty realized from the start how easy it would be to spoil them, and that's one thing she won't stand for. "A spoiled child," I've heard her say, "means a self-indulgent parent." Vicki and Jessica get all the love and security they need, but when Betty says no, it's no, and that's the end of it. On the other hand, both Betty and Harry hate this business of shunting children off to the nursery. As soon as she was old enough, Vicki started eating with her par- ents— her own kind of dinner, of course, but at the same table. Jessica comes down now and stays in the room with them for half an hour before bedtime. That's so they'll know they're part of the family. Then when Vicki's ready for bed, Betty and Harry go up and she sings these two little songs her nurse taught her — "God Bless America" and "Jesus Loves Me" — and says her prayers. And at Christmas she's mistress of cere- monies. Betty tells her whom to take each package to, and everybody waits till that one's opened and admired before she brings the next one. We're all there — Betty's sister Marjorie, and her husband Peter, Mr. Grable and myself — so it takes forever, but I don't know a pleasanter way to pass the time. Last Christmas Harry was Santa Claus — stood waiting at the foot of the stairs when Vicki came down, and boy! was she thrilled. Then she started calling for Daddy — Daddy had to see Santa Claus. "Think fast," muttered Harry. "Now you know Daddy's on a show this afternoon, Vicki, and he's out rehearsing." So the situation was saved. Betty and Harry don't give big parties or go to 'em — except maybe once in a blue moon like the party Jack Benny throws on New Year's Eve. They just seem sufficient unto themselves, and it's their life, and who's to tell them not to enjoy it their own way? On a free eve- ning Harry likes to have friends in for gin or poker. - As a rule, men can't stand playing poker with women, but Betty's an exceptional player and gives them a run for their money. Or they'll call the studio and ask to have a picture run off. Once in a while Harry'U go for a good musical — apart from Betty, Judy Gar- land's his favorite. Otherwise, it's always Westerns. Or they'll just sit home and listen to records and the radio. Outside of music, they're both crazy about horses and baseball. That's nothing Betty got from Harry, though of course being married to him makes it more so. From the time she could climb on a horse she adored riding and, coming from St. Louis, we'd take her to see the Cards every time they played. As for horses, I suppose you've read time and again how they bought the ranch so's to have a place to ride, and the thing gradually grew. Harry had a chance to other "a- „„_ days. They've got fou- right now, and my! the exi.. those foals are born. Usually in me die of the night, just like human babies. Before she married Harry, Betty used to go out dancing all the time. So did Harry, for that matter. The Palladium once ran a jitterbug contest between mu- sicians and bandleaders, and Harry asked Betty to enter it with him. Not knowing him very well at the time, she refused, and he won it anyway. Well, believe it or not, I have never seen Betty and Harry dancing together. Not once since they're married. Also I've got a pretty good no- tion why. Because if my daughter hates the limelight, my son-in-law hates it worse. Quite a few times I've been in New York with them. We'd go to some night spot, and the headwaiter'd say, "I've got a ringside table for you, Mr. James." But oh, no! Mr. James had to get clear off in a corner somewhere, and me, who wanted to see everything, I'd just trot along, keeping my mouth shut. As for those two getting up on the floor together you'd have thought there was some law against it! Now, I wouldn't be surprised if Betty'd like to go dancing now and then. But people might say, "There's Harry James and Betty Grable dancing!" Maybe even stop and stare. Which would embarrass Harry, and spoil any pleasure he got out of it. Well, dancing's not that important to Betty. Her husband's comfort is. On all the important things they agree. The trifles don't matter. That seems to me the basis of a real marriage. Unless her hus- band's happy, Betty can't be. First, last and always,, she's Harry's girl, and I'm glad. Glad? You know that silly song about I want a girl just like the girl that mar- ried Harry James. Well, here's a twist on it. When the time comes, I couldn't wish anything better for Vicki and Jes- sica than to marry a man just like the man that married Betty Grable. The End MODERN SCREEN 'Frankly, you shouldn't go in unless you under- stand ! r d readina." .»iis up in this Western — ^« coach days as a completely lenevable hard-hitting, gun-toting secret ser- vice man. It's a shock to see him out of pin-stripes and into levis and a ten-gallon ihat, but we think you'll like his new look, j The story with all its twists and angles and vast numbers of indistinguishable good and bad hombres is incredibly complicated, but the gist of it is this. Two soldiers have :been murdered by bandits while guarding a shipment of gold from the mining town of Rock Pass. Lieutenant John Haven of the Military Information Service is sent out to look into it. Haven drifts into town in civilian clothes, goes into a saloon and deliberately picks a fight with his friend Lieut. Stellman (Steve Brodie) just to let the customers know how little he thinks of the U. S. Army. He flirts with the saloon proprietress, Charlie (Jane Greer), and in due time is told off by her strapping bouncer, Mick Marion (Guinn Williams). There's a fight (and it's a honey) during which Haven KO's Mick, impressing the sloe- eyed Charlie (whom Haven has shrewdly sized up as the town's Big Wheel) no end. She offers him a job running her stage coach line, and Haven, suspecting that Charlie is involved in past and present skullduggery around the gold mine, accepts, hoping to learn something. He does — the hardest pos- sible way. There's a brief, doomed love between these two, but that isn't the big thing here. What will hold you from beginning to end is the action: the fights, the chases, the warehouse fire at the end. Agnes Moorehead, prettier than we've ever seen her, is fine as the fiancee of Haven's commanding officer (Tom Powers). Jane Greer is lovely, but a little bit wooden. Burl Ives, as Orville — Haven's guitar-playing hotel clerk — is — well, don't you love that man? This is an excellent Western, full of the stuff that makes your heart pound. Go see it. — RKO. J ...asKETEERS iviGM has put just about everybody but Peter Lawford and Louis B. Mayer into this glorious Technicolor epic. For example, D'Artagnan is played by Gene Kelly, Lady De Winter by Lana Turner, Constance by June Allyson, the three musketeers by Van Heflin, Gig Young and Robert Coote, the King of France by Frank Morgan, the Queen by Angela Lansbury, Cardinal Richelieu by Vincent Price, and the Duke of Buckingham by John Sutton, to mention one or two. With that many stars, who could ask for anything more? You get more, whether you ask for it or not. Hours more. You get the story of D'Artagnan's trip to Paris (he's a country bumpkin, but an artist with a sword), of his joining the three musketeers, of his love for Constance. Then you get the story of Riche- lieu's power over the king, and you discover how Richelieu used the infamous Lady De Winter to wheedle state secrets out of recal- citrant gentlemen. And you get the story of Lady De Winter's past life — she was once married to one of the musketeers (Heflin) and she was also once a common thief. The love affair of the French Queen with the British Buckingham is explored; there's a war; there are more horses than you'd find in three Republic Westerns, and enough duel- ling and loud music to last you for years. Some of the duelling scenes are graceful and exciting (since there's no opportunity to dance, Kelly's been given plenty of leaping, bounding action to occupy his agile feet) and some of the duelling scenes are revolt- ingly suggestive of pig-sticking. After you've watched eight or ten men get run through the body with swords, you more or less have the idea. Still, it's a question of taste. — MGM. LUCK OF THE IRISH What might have been a fearfully routine story (about a poor but honest young jour- nalist going to work for a rich but crooked old politician, and sweating it out until, at the end, he regains his ideals) is saved and even made delightful by the magic of Cecil Stations West: Army officer Dick Powell solves a Western mystery, meets tough Jane Greer. 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SCHOOL OF COMMERCIAL ART , BOX 8066 # DALLAS 5, TEXAS EASY TO LEARN MILLINERY AT HOME Design and make exclusive hats under personal direction of one of America's noted designers. Complete materials, blocks, etc.. furnished. Every step Il- lustrated. You make exclusive salable hats right from the start. Begin a profitable business in spare time. Low cost, easy terms. LOUIE MILLER SCHOOL OF MILLINERY 225 North Wabash Avenue, Dept. 1812, Chicago I, III. Please send me your FREE catalog describing your training course in professional millinery. Prml , Namt ■ 107 is Tyrone Power, who's been in Ireland, but is returning to the States at once to go to work for a man named Augur (Lee J. Cobb). Augur W£mts to be a senator, and he's buy- ing Ty's brains to run his campaign. Any- how, Ty gets lost in Ireland, and meets up with a real live leprechaun (Cecil Kel- laway) whose chief shame is that he's so big. Leprechauns have a reputation for be- ing petite. Ty wins this leprechaun's undy- ing affection when he returns to him the pot of gold which he wrested from him in the first place. (He didn't mean no harm, guv'- nor, just never really believed that story about leprechauns having pots of gold be- fore.) Ty goes on his way, with Cecil blessing him cordially, and up at an inn nearby he meets an Irish girl named Nora (Anne Baxter) in whom he realizes he could be interested. But Augur is waiting, and off to the States Ty goes. He's been home one day (Frances Augur, the boss' daughter, has fixed him up with an apartment already) when who should appear at the door but the leprechaun. He denies that's what he is; claims the employment agency sent him. "What's your name?" Ty says. "Oh, call me Horace," says the little man. "I've always had a fancy to be called Horace." Horace develops quite a hate on Frances Augur (Jayne Meadows), once it looks as though Ty's going to marry her (after all, us lepre- chauns have to stick up for nice Irish girls) and first thing you know, Anne Baxter is suddenly in New York on some legal busi- ness. Magically enough, Ty bumps into her. From there on, Anne and Horace battle with Frances and her father for Ty's immortal soul, but don't you worry for a minute. Ty's the sort of guy who'd rather have Anne also showing . . . A FOREIGN AFFAIR (Para.)— Jean Arthur, a strong-minded Congresswoman, goes to Ger- many to investigate the morals of U. S. occupation troops. Jean is superbly funny, Marlene Dietrich gives the performance of her career, and John Lund is perfect in this most unusual and down-to-earth comedy. A SONG IS BORN (Goldwyn-RKO) — Imagine a Danny Kaye movie without Danny Kaye specialties, a Goldwyn musical without the Goldwyn Girls! Well, this is that — but still delightful. Danny is a professor who falls in with a group of jazz musicians, including Benny Goodman, Louis Armstrong and T. Dorsey. Even if you're not a hepcat, you'll have a fine time. AN INNOCENT AFFAIR (U. A.)— -A very funny lightweight comedy. Fred MacMurray, Made- leine Carroll, Rita Johnson and Buddy Rogers have a field day in one of the bright- est sparklers in a long time. GOOD SAM (RKO)— Gary Cooper plays a guy who believes in being nice to all comers, come what may. Naturally, he gets into difficulties. So does this movie. Gary Cooper is expert at playing Gary Cooper, Anne Sheridan can deliver a brisk line, and Leo McCarey always comes through with bright directorial touches. Still, Good Sam is a long bore. HAMLET (Univ.-lnt.)— Shakespeare's master- piece has been made into a magnificently Apartment For Peggy: As Mr. and Mrs., Bill Holden and Jeanne Crain, meet problems. Baxter in a cottage on the auld sod than Jayne Meadows wrapped in mink at El Mo- rocco. If you think he's crazy, that's your business. The girls are charming (Anne has a brogue), Tyrone is handsome, and Cecil Kellaway's "What an actor!" — 20th-Fox. APARTMENT FOR PEGGY I'd heard this was another Mizacle on 34th Street, which made me curious. I missed Miracle myself, but half the people I know thought it was great, warm, human, etc., while the other half thought it was ham. And not even fresh ham at that. Well, Apartment for Peggy can stand on its own, for my money. It exploits a few trite sit- uations for tears, and some of its solutions are too slick, but it says some things that most movies don't kill themselves saying these days. It says that knowledge is good, and that all men who teach aren't absent- minded dodos not quite bright enough to f ; beautiful and exciting film by Sir Laurence Olivier and skilled assistants. A great mo- tion picture in every respect and an unfor- gettable and deepening experience. ISN'T IT ROMANTIC? (Para.)— This is a sort of poor man's Meet Me In St. Louis. It has its moments, some of them musical. Veronica Lake, Mary Hatcher, Mona Freeman and Roland Culver are involved. Nothing to rave about, but it'll pass the time pleasantly enough. JOHNNY BELINDA (Warners) —Jane Wyman adds definitely to her stature as a fine actress with an extraordinary portrayal of a deaf mute in a small Nova Scotia town. Lew Ayres, as a kind young doctor who befriends her, is excellent. A powerful, adult movie. JULIA MISBEHAVES (MGM)— Greer Garson proves she's a first-rate comedienne in this uproarious comedy. Her old teammate, Walter Pidgeon, also scores heavily as do Cesar Romero (especially!), Liz Taylor and Peter Lawford. You'll laugh yourself silly. LUXURY LINER (MGM)— A light, pleasant musi- cal with Jane Powell, Lauritz Melchior, George Brent, Xavier Cugat and Techni- color. All in all, delicious and refreshing. ONE TOUCH OF VENUS (Univ.-lnt.) — Depart- ment store clerk Bob Walker kisses a statue of Venus and, be-dad, she comes to life as Ava Gardner and employs her magic touch both to complicate things and straighten 'em out. An entertaining fantasy, full of chuckles and, what with Ava, beauty. "ift^-^ ^ I concerns a young cou^ Jeanne Crain. He's a veteru*. lege under the GI Bill, because he wanus teach some day. He figured it all out when he was hanging on a raft in the Pacific. He figured the reason he was hanging there, to begin with. Ignorance, and therefore fear, and hence hatred, and so, wars. But always the ignorance coming first. So he'd decided to be an educator if he ever got safely home, i He and his wife have their problems at school — they need a place to live, they're going to have a baby, he'd like to be able to buy her nice things. They meet Edmund Gwenn (he got an Academy Award for his performance in Miracle^), an elderly re- tired professor about to kill himself. He feels he's outlived his usefulness. You can plot it from there. He takes them into his house, they give him something to live for, and everything moves along nicely until Holden, in a fit of aberration, suddenly decides to go off and sell used cars in Chicago. After all, he says, why "is it his responsibility to be a sober, hard-working, do-gooding fellow when the whole rest of the cock-eyed world is playing black-market in a great big way? This, though logical enough, is a little hard to take in such a nice boy as Holden, but you know it's not going to last, and it doesn't. See Apartment for Peggy. The brightest thing about it is by no means its Technicolor. — 20fh-Fox. RACHEL AND THE STRANGER (RKO)— Loretta Young is a nice girl who, to eat, becomes a bondwoman — or slave — to Bill Holden on the old Western frontier. Bill's married her, but looks on her as strictly a servant until Robert Mitchum comes along. Loretta falls for Robert. The climax arrives in a redskin attack. Good story, swell acting by all con- cerned. THE ILLEGALS (20th-Fox) — An exciting story of displaced Jews on their adventurous way to Palestine. All the actors are non-profes- sionals. Frank and realistic, it's a picture you'll long remember. THE LOVES OF CARMEN (Col.)— Rita Hayworth plays the celebrated gypsy with fine abandon in this diverting Technicolor version of the old novel. The novel, we said — it's not the opera. Glenn Ford and Victor Jory also display fire. Go see. THE NIGHT HAS A THOUSAND EYES (Para.)— Here's a strange one. Edward G. Robinson is a guy who finds he can predict the future, and the things he sees in the lives of his associates bother him mightily. Even if you're skeptical about the whole thing, you'll find it darned absorbing. With John Lund, Gail Russell, Virginia Bruce and Jerome Cowan. THE SAXON CHARM (Univ. - Int.) —Sounds like a mystery, but it's just a talky and uncon- vincing thing about an egomaniac theatrical producer. 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Colors: GREEN, BLUE, PINK °"lv Sizes: 12, 14, 16, 18, 20 $277 Nowhere in the world, but from Florida Fash- ions can you get these beautiful cottons! THERE ARE over two hundred birds at the Mocambo — little feathered things that nutter around behind a glass wall. Every once in a while someone looks at the wall and screams. Charlie Morrison takes this philosophically. Charlie, being the proprietor of the Mocambo, has seen more people fall in love at his night club than fall into anything else. He's figured it out to a science — give 'em birds, give 'em dimly-lit corners, give 'em the works — and then, hold back the waiter!' After all, where did Cyd Charisse discover love? And where did Tony Martin? And where did Marie McDonald? Of course: the M o. You can read all about these and other "Mocambo Affairs" on page 40. Charlie (who was there) tells the tale . . . SHEILAH GRAHAM was probably there, too. In fact, Sheilah seems to be almost everywhere — several hundred newspapers throughout the country carry her column — and now she's writing for modern screen. We're proud and delighted to have her join the distinguished group whose good and lively stuff graces our pages. The piece on page 38 of this issue, called "Robert Walker: Tragic Figure," is her first offering. We think you'll be fascinated by this pene- trating analysis of a very confused man . . . If you have any mad notions about Hollywood just turn to page 28 and you'll be cured. Beginning on that page Hedda Hooper gives it to you straight from both shoulders. Did you know, for instance, that the gold was never moved from Fort Knox to Vine Street? That the family silver, of certain Hollywood families, spends more time in the pawn shop? Well, even if you did know, read "The Ten Greatest Myths Of Hollywood." Recommended especially for those who love the town well — but not too wisely . . . WE HAVE a lady here who gives us an inferiority complex. We feel, somehow, you ought to know about her. She's Viola Moore, our newest Associate Editor. Viola was born in Calcutta, India, twenty-nine years ago. By her twelfth birthday she'd lived in Europe, Asia, Africa and Australia. As if that weren't enough, she was kissed by Fredric March in the picture, / Married A Witch. But more — while covering the UN conferences in San Francisco (as a writer for the London Daily Mail and the Australian Women's Weekly) she ran into Queen Julianna in a ladies' room at Stanford University. Needless to add, Viola got an exclusive and widely-read interview. For us, Viola will get equally hot tips on the home- making and personality habits of your favorite stars. All we can say now, and feebly, is "Welcome aboard, Vi." / rt HAPPEN / VP IN THE WlLo IT GETS IPY£Z>£d VE VOIVDER 4S T»£Y GET FONOtal They find love in a mile-high kiss with a corpse and a crook to add to their bliss \p a chump and a chimp and a couple in a coma and a half a ton of fish j ^ 1 1 j with a horrible aroma <^~x( the plane stacks up in a field of corn and the funniest J* love affair ///^ ever filmed was born ? Ll s jrom thai wonderfully wacky SA7 ZVl POSJ serial by Robert Carson UNIVERSAL-INTERNATIONAL praiinlt WMmL You (totta ^rAV ^Ppy A EDDIE ALBERT ROLAND YOUNG • WILLARD PARKER • PERCY KILBRIDE Produced and Written for the Screen by KARL TUNBERG • Directed by H. C. POTTER • A WILLIAM DOZIER PRESENTATION • A RAMPART 1| PRODUCTION THERE'S ANOTHER GREAT COMEDY ON ITS WAY "FAMUy u™irvMr>r>M»f Frank Sinatra goes along with the current advertising gag, trying to guess Ava Gardner sits on the General's lap. George Jessel, who' "Which twin has the Toni?" The "twins" are Loretta Young and Rosalind was emcee for the evening, created a mild sensation as U. S. Russell; the occasion: Hollywood's Annual Press Photographers' Ball, at Ciro's. Grant. Event was the highlight of Hollywood's social season. Roddy McDowall (note the new mustache) escorted Coleen Townsend to the Bob Mitchum and his wife Dorothy wore monkey heads and Ball. They came as Romeo and Juliet. Costumed guests started arriving at sat quietly on the sidelines all evening, temporarily forget- nine and some remained to hear the last strains of music at four in the morning. ting their legal troubles. Many friends visited at their table. John Agar, usually shy about kissing his wife in public, was so im- pressed with her Marie Antoinette costume he couldn't resist a light peck. Under the wig is the shortest hair-do Shirley's ever worn. LOUELLA PARSONS Louella Parsons predicts marriage for June Haver and Dr. John Duzik — Colonial girl and Paul Revere Evening was climaxed by entertain- ment— Danny Kaye and Frank Sinatra were among those in the acts. ■ The romantic mystery of Rita Hayworth and Ali Khan had Hollywood guessing. No one knew when he came, when he left and why he didn't call up his friends in our town. Now the big question is— will our glamorous, red-haired Rita marry the inter- national playboy, whose father, the Aga Khan, is ruler of the Moslems both in India and Africa? Marrying the Khan isn't half as simple as it sounds. Ali, in his country, is the equivalent of a Crown Prince, and is heir to a fabulous fortune. Moreover, he is not free, being still married to an Englishwoman, by whom he has two children. Ali and his wife have not lived together for many years, but the chil- dren were in Cannes with him this summer. They all lived in the magnificent Mediterra- nean villa, once owned by the late Maxine Eliott, which is one of the most famous show places in Southern France. I must say Ali looked like a most devoted father. When I was there on my vacation, it was an everyday sight to see them all at Cap Antibes, water skiing. But the romantics say that surely the Khan must be madly in love with Rita or he wouldn't travel 6,000 miles just to see her in Hollywood. I don't doubt that he is fascinated. Who wouldn't be with Rita? But I cannot believe that marriage is part of his plan — nor, for that matter, that it is Rita's. Rita once told me that she had to be sure next time, and that she wouldn't marry without taking plenty of time to make a deci- sion. As for Ali Khan, he arrived in Los Angeles without letting his embassy know. He always travels with a retinue, but this time he came practically unattended to see the lady of his heart. He saw none of his friends in California, and spent all of his time either at the house Rita rented for him across from her own home, or at hers. He slipped out of town even more quietly than he had entered it. If Ali should seek a divorce, it would take a long time — and right now his wife, al- though separated from him, has not consented to free him. A box of roses is accepted by Jane Wyman, This was the first important full-dress premiere Douglas Dick and Martha Vickers (separated star of Johnny Belinda, as she enters the of the fall, and attracted many of the top- from her husband, A. C. Lyles) arrived together. Hollywood Theater for the picture's premiere. flight stars. Above, Alan and Sue Ladd. Here they say hello to the citizenry outside. Lucille Ball, Collier Young, Ida Lupino and Desi Arnaz added their luster to the occasion. Holly- wood opinion is that Jane Wyman's performance in Belinda may earn her an Academy Award. LOUELLA PARSONS' GOOD NEWS So I cannot see marriage for Rita and Ali Khan in the cards. * * * On the other hand, I do see marriage tor Greer Garson and the rich Texas oil man. Buddy Fogelson. Unless, of course, something entirely unforeseen happens. Greer sees no one but the very likable Buddy, and it could very well be that they will be married by the time this appears in Modern Screen. All she says is, "I'll let you know" — and I have to be satisfied with that promise. But if it doesn't sound like marriage, my name is Ingrid Bergman. Both Greer and Buddy had passport photo- graphs taken, and nobody sits for these dreadful things unless they are contemplating an important trip abroad. And also, Greer, who is sorta thrifty with her money, has recently been buying clothes like mad. So I'll miss my guess if the wedding bells don't ring for these two; maybe somewhere overseas, and soon. Personally, I hope they do. Buddy seems very right for the intellec- tual, sensitive Greer, and I happen to know that she's been mighty lonely since her sepa- ration from Richard Ney. * * * Right smack off the train from the East. June Allyson and Dick Powell came directly to my house. They came to quiet the separa- tion rumors that have been much too per- sistent ever since June went to New York and Dick to Arkansas on separate vacations. I must say I never saw two people act more like turtle doves than Junie and Dick during their call on me. Dick admitted that June had dined out a few times with Peter Lawford when they were working together on the same picture. For her part, June gave that cute giggle of hers and confessed that she loved dancing and occasional nightclubbing — which Dick frankly doesn't go for. She said that their picture schedules had been in conflict lately. pg*fgp Heaven helps the gol who helps herself! ■: : - ■ The hide-and-seek, tongue-in-cheek tale of a marriage-shy baby doctor... and a misbehaving man-huntin' Babe! a Dore Schary presentation mi in DON HARTMAN'S production 3irl Si id IwnMI CO-STARRING FRANCHOT TONE BETSY DRAKE with ALAN MOWBRAY • Produced. Directed and Co written by DON HARTMAN Scitenili) Colliiiiitm ■) Stephen Mtiehoyse het| Advertisement * * * * * Don't be Half -safe! At the first blush of womanhood many mys- terious changes take place in your body. For instance, the apocrine glands under your arms begin to secrete daily a type of perspi- ration you have never known before. This is closely related to physical development and causes an unpleasant odor on both your per- son and your clothes. There is nothing "wrong" with you. 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This was the reason she took a trip to New York with Gloria De Haven. Dick was kept home by a cold. I'm all for giving the Powells the benefit of the doubt, and here's hoping we see them celebrating a golden wedding anniversary about 46 years from now. * * * Here's a new twist on that old, old story about the two careers in one family. Brenda Marshall, who, as you know, is Mrs. Bill Holden, claims she has played her last screen role. From now on, she says, she just wants to be a devoted wife and mother. The twist is that Brenda has just completed Whispering Smith in which she had the best role of her entire life. She is wonderful in it, too, and Paramount has been prophesying great things for her. But this beautiful girl loves her home and everything connected with it, and has decided to give all her time to it. I say, three cheers for Brenda! If there were more girls like this in Hollywood, it would be a much, much happier town. * * * As you probably remember, when he came back from service. Lew Ayres talked about entering the ministry. He changed his mind on that, but it hasn't prevented him from spending much time on good works. Lew does these very worthy and humanitarian deeds very quietly. For instance, he has just com- pleted a two-reel subject called The Greater City of Hope. It is for the benefit ol a T.B. sanitarium at Duarte, a suburb not too far lrom Hollywood. All the film and equipment to make the picture was donated by our various studios, but it was Lew who organized the venture, persuaded other actors to donate their serv- ices, and saw the whole thing through. Incidentally, Lew is seen everywhere these days with Heather Walsh, a beautiful young actress from South Africa, which has quelled those rumors about him and Jane Wymam. * * * Personal Opinions: I'm no authority on this subject, but for my money, Cary Grant is the best-dressed man in town, even if he almost never wears socks. . . . Jimmy Cagney cer- tainly gives me a terrible pain in my civic pride when he announces he is moving to Massachusetts so that his children can be brought up away from the influence of Holly- wood. I wonder if Jimmy also plans to keep his children away from being tainted by all that money he has made here? . . . My nomi- nation for the happiest personality anywhere at any time: Esther Williams. . . . RKO has dropped Lawrence Tierney's option, which isn't surprising to anyone. But if you ask me, the Tierney family doesn't have to worry. . . . Scott Brady, who is Larry's brother, and temperamentally completely unlike him, has scored so tremendously in his first picture, Canon Cify, that I believe he'll be a major star before another year is over. ... I am about to go overboard, too, concerning the future of Douglas Dick. He had never im- pressed me too much until I saw Accused — but when I watched him in that, I knew he was "in" — but good. . . . * * * The Errol Flynns are separated again, but could be, by the time this is printed, they will be together once more. I doubt it, how- ever: this time I think it's really the end for them. That's because it isn't Nora who is lonesome and sitting home moping during the separation — it's the dashing Errol who is sitting by the home fires while the lovely Nora is at gay Palm Springs, surrounded by friends. How this girl has changed! When she first came to see me, she dressed plainly, almost severely. She was very quiet and deeply. How much should she have tipped him? □ 70% □ 25% □ 15 to 20% Don't wait 'til a waiter wears that "why don't you do right" look. Hone up on tip- ping! 'Taint what it used to be, thanks to inflation, so leave a little extra on that silver tray. A 15 to 20% tip pays off in smiles; good service. And for certain times there's a special service Kotex gives . . . your choice of 3 absorbencies, designed for different girls, different days. You'll find it pays to try all 3: Regular, Junior, Super Kotex. See which absorbency suits your needs. If she tries on your hat, should you — □ Resent it □ Lend it □ Feel flattered You break away from babushkas ., . . wow your cellmates with a whammy chapeau. But, it needn't go to their heads. Why court ol' dabbil dandruff? Like borrowing combs or lipstick, trying each other's hats is scowled on in cactus (sharp, that is) circles. Discourage same, for your own protection. On "those" days, too, let caution guide you. Straight to the counter that sells Kotex. For it's Kotex that has an exclusive safety center: your extra protection against accidents. Which gal would you ask to complete a foursome? □ A Suave Sally □ A numb number □ A character from the carnival Your steady freddy asks you to produce a date for his pal? Here's advice! Choosing a gal less winsome than you, can doom the party. It flusters your guy; disappoints his friend. Best you invite Suave Sally. You can stay confident — regardless of the day of the month — with Kotex to keep you comfort- able, to give you softness that holds its shape. You risk no treachery with Kotex! It's the napkin made to stay soft while you wear it. More tvo/nes? choose /(OTEX f/ian a// other sa/iffary na/?/c/hs 3 ABSORBENCtES ; REGULAR, JU/V'OR, SUPER. What clan does her plaid represent? D Frazer □ Macpherson □ Black Watch If you give a hoot for the Highland touch in togs — and who doesn't? —bend a wee ear. Have a fling at "ancient tartans": top-rating plaids with authentic patterns, representing actual clans. A genuwyne Macpherson, for instance, as shown. And when your own clau meets, have fun — even at calendar time. No cause to be self-conscious what with Kotex preventing telltale outlines. Those flat pressed ends just don't turn traitor. They don't show. (As if you didn't know!). When buying sanitary needs, should you — □ Wait 'til next time □ Buy a new sanitary belt □ Buy 2 sanitary belts After a bout with the daily grmd, you welcome a shower • • - a change to fresh togs. Uf course! But to make your daintmess complete, on those" days you'll want a fresh sanitary belt. You'll need two Kotex Sanitary Belts, for a change. Remember, the Kotex Belt is made to lie flat, without twist- ing or curling. You'll find your adjustable Kotex Belt fits smoothly; doesn't bind. (It's all-elastic.) So -for extra corn- tort, choose the new Kotex bamtary Belt, and buy two- for a change! Buy TWO — by namef British star Michael Wilding, with Joe Cotten, Ingrid Bergman, and director Alfred Hitchcock on the set of Under Capricorn, in England. Later, Bergman returned to her native Sweden, where she was joined by husband Peter Lindstrom and daughter Pia. Ingrid may make an Italian film next year. LOUELLA PARSONS' GOOD NEWS deeply in love with Errol and determined to make a go of her marriage. Now she has cut her red hair fashionably short and wears exquisite clothes. As the last woman in Errol's screen life in Don Juan, she is very pretty. Nora had her eldest daughter, Deidre, with her at the desert resort when news of the separation was printed. But her youngest little girl was sick back in Hollywood with a nurse. Errol was in the hospital where he underwent a minor operation. Nora has leased a house out in Brentwood for herself and the children. It is miles from Errol's bachelor establishment, Mulholland Farm. Nora lived at the Farm for about a year after her marriage to Errol, but Errol has always felt it was too small for the entire family. Well, he'll have plenty of room now — if Nora sticks to her same mood. But Errol's such a charmer, and he may win her back. * * * Not only was the Hollywood Press Photog- raphers' Ball the high spot of the social season thus far, it also was so dam much fun I wish all of you could have been there. The entertainment was wonderful, and I've never seen our glamorous stars dressed up in such beautiful and clever costumes. The first person I met was Sonja Henie, who has been discussing a business deal to make pictures with the Texas multi-millionaire, Glenn Mc- Carthy. Sonja was there with the gentleman, and was all done up in a fluffy pink ballet dress and feathers. And, of course, she was wearing her fabulous diamonds. Robert Mitchum made his first appearance since all his trouble. Bob and his wife came wearing monkey heads, and sat very quietly on the sidelines all evening. Dozens of his friends, I noticed, went over to his table to visit. Among them, Loretta Youngv Of course the younger crowd was out in full force, and looked mighty handsome. Shir- ley Temple wore a voluminous gown of heavy satin and a white wig which was so becoming to her cute face. I stopped to ask if she were Marie Antoinette, and the famous Temple dimples flashed as she laughed, "I guess so." John Agar, Shirley's husband, obviously thought his young wife was the most beau- Just about the most wonderful Love Story ever filmed! SAMUEL GOLDWYNp* E S E N T S SKI STARRING DAVID NIVEN • TERESA WRIGHT EVELYN KEYES • FARLEY GRANGER Screen Play by John Patrick • From the Novel by Rumer Godden Directed by IRVING REIS • Released by RKO Radio Pictures, Inc. tiful girl in the room. I was glad to tell John about all the fan mail which is pouring in about him. He's such a nice boy, that one, and I'll bet all I own he'll never "go Hollywood." Rory Calhoun and his Isabelita were with the Agars, and Rory, as a knight of old, practically swept the floor with his plumed hat in giving me a super-low bow. I'll admit that it took me some time to recognize Jane Withers rattling on like every new mother about her first-born. Janie was anything but glamorous in an old tramp costume. But, then, Janie always did go for a laugh. Seated near to us were Farley Granger in a red costume of the Renaissance period, and his date of the evening, dark-haired Geraldine Brooks. They both table-hopped to visit with us for a few minutes. Rosalind Russell and Loretta Young came as the Toni Twins of the advertisements. Both girls wore identical black wigs with signs on their dresses saying: "Which is real and which is permanent?" Betty Hutton and her good friend, Lindsay Durand, shared Ted Briskin and a table. That is, Ted was bedecked as an Indian potentate and the gals were his harem beauties. June Haver brought her beau. Dr. John Dusik, over to introduce to me, and I'm surer than ever that they'll marry one of these days. June looked very fetching in a Colonial costume, and the doctor was a fine- looking Paul Revere. A cute idea was Anne Baxter and Mrs. Zachary Scott as silent day stars Clara Bow and Lilyan Tashman. But the biggest hand for originality went to Dorothy Malone and her boy-friend. Dr. Phillip Montgomery, who walked in under a shower bath, complete with real water. Fittingly enough, Esther Williams and Ben Gage happened to walk in right behind them, daringly dressed in 1920 bathing suits. My favorite, I think, was that sweetheart, Kay Kyser, who strutted in as Gorgeous George, the famous wrestler, with his beauti- ful wife, Georgia Carroll, in the role of valet to the "grunt and groan" artist. Piece de resistance of the entertainment bill was the hilarious imitation of Kay Thompson and the Williams Brothers staged by Danny Kaye as Thompson, and George Burns, Jack Benny, Van Johnson and Jack Carson as the Brothers. Even the "Brothers" laughed so hard at Danny's antics they darn near broke up the act. Another big surprise was Jane Russell's parody song — "Feudin' and a Fussin' and a Focusin'." The snappy way Jane put the song over made all of us realize we've been overlooking an important talent in the girl. Winding up the bill was the duo of Frank Sinatra and Gene Kelly in a song and dance number that had every foot at the ball a-tap- pin', including mine. * * * Did Joan Fontaine arrive in a state at the recent baby shower given for her by a group of close friends! Joan was donning her best bib and tucker for the party when she happened to look out the window of the lovely Dozier home, and to her horror saw the entire bath house by the swimming pool in roaring flames! What happened next was almost a night- mare. First the fire department couldn't find Home from London, Betty Hutton is greeted by daughters Candice and Lindsay Diane. Betty smashed all previous records at the Palladium. the Dozier house, and then the firemen couldn't find a hydrant for the hose. A connection was finally made, but not before the entire bath house had burned to the ground and the main house itself had been threatened. No wonder Joan was jittery when she ar- rived at the party, but the lovely presents given her by the hostesses, Mrs. Al Blooming- in Another "Best" from the Producer of "The Best Years of Our Lives" Academy Award Winner! ■ yo"' Wean be US*J SUPER. COLOR. R./MSE Glorifies your hair with ABUNDANT TEMPORARY COLOR. Smart, new, convenient, easy-to-apply 7(Je 4i*tcendef, 4e£ceve that NOREEN will really do what you have always wanted a color rinse to do. 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ENLARGEMENT of your favorite photo ■ NEW SILK FINISH • GOLD TOOLED FRAME H Just to get acquainted, we will 1| make you a FREE 5x7enlargement ■ of any picture or negative and mount it in a handsome gold tooled frame. Be sure to include color of hair, eyes, and clothing for infor- mation on having this enlargement beautifully hand colored in oil. SEND NO MONEY. Send your most cherished photo or negative now, accept your beautifully framed en- largement when it arrives, and pay postman only 19c for frame plus small handling and mailing charge. If you are not completely satisfied, return the enlarge- ment within 10 days and your money will be refunded. But you may keep the handsome frame as a gift for promptness. Limit2 toacustomer. Originals returned. HOLLYWOOD FILM STUDIOS 14 7021 Santa Monica Blvd., Dept.M-57, Hollywood 38, Cal. LOUELLA PARSONS' GOOD NEWS Rita Johnson is well again, after a delicate brain operation. Rita fell into a coma when she was accidentally hit by a hair-dryer. dale, Anita Louise and Minna Wallace, and the other girls, including Rosalind Russell, Greer Garson, Mrs. Ray Milland, Loretta Young and about 40 others, soon calmed her down. Or, maybe I should say, made her forget about the fire, because she certainly was excited about all the lovely gifts for the new baby. * * * Have you ever had someone ring your doorbell in the middle of the night and ask for a maraschino cherry, a dog collar, a fancy bottle, and a worm from the back yard? That's what happened to me, and, yep, it was all part of the scavenger hunt staged by the town's small fry at the fun party given by pretty Betty Sullivan, daughter of the well- known columnist, Ed Sullivan. Fortunately, I was able to supply all four articles, so Barbara Bebe Lyon, my doorbell ringer, romped in for third prize. Poor Eliza- beth Taylor didn't fare so well. One of her "orders" was lack Benny's violin, and for a gag, lack insisted on playing "Love In Bloom" for her before he would lend the instrument. It was a fine performance, Elizabeth said, but it made her come in last in the race! * * * I was the first person outside of her im- mediate family to talk to lovely Rita Johnson after she got out of the hospital. The poor girl still wasn't strong enough to explain to me what had caused the mysterious accident that sent her into a coma on Labor Day, and from which she didn't rouse for almost six weeks. There were times, during those weeks, when her life was despaired of. She under- went a couple of brain operations, but now I am happy to tell you that she looks well on the way to recovery. Her mother and brother are with her, and while she is living at a guiet beach a little way from Hollywood at the moment, later they expect to bring her back to her home. I brought her a bottle of French perfume, and she was happy as a child over it. She kept saying: "How did you remember it was my favorite kind?" She also kept admiring my suit and my hat — and you know as well as I do that when a woman sit"? up and notices clothes, she's getting well. Mel Torme tossed a 23rd birthday party for himself and was rewarded by a kiss from Su- san Perry (nee Candy Toxton), his best girl. The long-expected Jennifer Jones and David Selznick marriage is set for early next year. David's divorce from Irene Selznick becomes final January 8th, and he and his star will marry shortly after that. Jennifer has been madly in love with her boss for a long time, and has let him guide her career completely. She was a quiet, naive girl when they first met. Now she is chic and charming, and very much the woman of the world. I doubt if hers and David's plan to honey- moon in Switzerland materializes. Jennifer has so many pictures lined up, the first of which is Madame Bovary at M-G-M. But time will tell, and so will I. * * * Bits and Pieces: Merle Oberon decided that money was more important than love: she left Count Cini in Italy and flew back io America for Operation Malaya at RKO be- fore her contract at RKO got a chance io e::pire. . . . The hottest new male name around Hollywood is Stephen McNally, the very bad boy of that very good picture, Johnny Belinda. But, instead of getting the romantic build-up like Montgomery Cliff, Universal-International is giving him the Crosby treatment. I mean, photographs of him bathing his four small children and such like. Well, if Steve, who used to be called Horace on Broadway, does as well as Bing, that will be terrific. . . . They are whispering that Yvonne de Carlo has a new mysterious beau — a Count, yet, some- where in Europe. . . . Dick Haymes is dieting like crazy. When I asked him why, he said, "I saw myself in One Touch of Venus. I looked like two touches of pecan pie." . . . The two girls seen most often together around Hollywood right now are Jeanne Crain and Georgianna Young Montalban. Both are ex- pecting, and both delighted over it. . . . Newest fashion note: blue flannel underwear. That's right, blue flannel! They designed it for young Joan Evans, Samuel Goldwyn's discovery, for Roseanna McCoy. She's wear- ing it right now on location for the picture, if you can bear it. I can't! . . . And that's all for this month. Please keep writing! I so enjoy hearing from you, my readers of Modern Screen. Tell me what and whom you like to read about. Tl$ THAT BIG PARADE OF SECSI (Aiected! Merest /OO minutes or, # ., \\ 1TL RUDY VALLEE • FLORENCE BATES-ALAN MOMW GALE ROBBlWS- IRENE RVAN- Gf?AW SUTTON- Produced by LEO C.POPKIN Written and Directed by CHARLES MARTIN • A Harry M. Popkin Production • Released thru United Artists of bobby-soxers IS mason kidding? he says: "vile, loathsome, wretched barbarians, for the most part, morons. of the movies "made for half-wits and certainly not for intelligent people." of his marriage "yes, I beat my wife." the truth about james mason by morgan rriacneil Scenes of violence between the Masons occur only in films. James and Pam will be parents by the time you see this. During their first year in America, they've made one film — Caught. James plays a doctor; Pamela appears briefly. ■ A few months ago when Cecil B. DeMille began casting Sampson and Delilah, one of his assistants submitted to him, in a list of possible leading men, the name of James Mason. When Mason heard about this he quickly announced to the press that his price to appear in any Cecil B. DeMille film was $250,000. Mason's heretic announcement, relayed to Paramount (where DeMille produces his epics), occasioned a fur- rowing of foreheads, some consternation, and much pithy indignation. "Just who does this Mason think he is?" one of DeMille's boys demanded. "What's he ever done to be asking for that kind of dough?" Mason's agent, who happened to be standing by, offered a ready reply. "To begin with," he explained, "Mason has been the number one movie star in Great Britain for the past three years." "A lot that means!" challenged the assistant. "They use foreign money in Great Britain." Ignoring the retort, the agent continued. "In addition," he said, "Mason has been averaging 6,000 fan letters a week. One third of these come from American women. He's been in the United States for over a year now, and wherever he goes the girls give him the Sinatra treatment: they tear his clothes, they ask for locks of his hair; they claim he 'sends' them; and the fact of the matter is that right now he's more popular than ever." The Paramount man shook his head. "Why?" he asked. "Please tell me why?" Now, this is the very question that many other people have been asking about' Mason ever since his arrival in America. His undeniable appeal for the public has been a source of widespread wonder, for Mason, sneering superbly in all directions, has appeared to be striving to make himself the most unpopular Englishman in {Continued on page 92) 16 "/ust remember... A WOMAN'S BULLETS KILL AS QUICK AS A MAN'S ! Blood and thunder saga of the West's most savage days! ...Sweeping this lone wolf into the gun-sights— and the arms of a blonde spitfire— and right into the turbulent heart of the bloodiest range war ever to explode on the screen! KM I ij ■ •J IT •J m •J z n Straight from the rip-roaring Pages of the famous Saturday Evening posf| serial story! 17 Orphan Dean Stockwell wakes up one morning to find that his hair has turned bright green. At first his schoolmates regard the change as an enviable novelty, but prejudiced parents persuade them to turn away from the boy. MOVIE REVIEWS THE BOY WITH GREEN HAIR This is the story of a sensitive little boy named Peter Frye (Dean Stockwell) who's shunted around from relative to relative until he comes to live with Gramps (Pat O'Brien), an ex-circus performer now working as a singing waiter. Peter's happy with Gramps; he listens to stories of the old fellow's past glories, he begins to feel secure. Then his school teacher (Barbara Hale) enlists his aid in a clothing drive for war orphans. One of the other children at school points out that Peter himself is a war orphan. Peter checks, and discovers the fact to be true. His parents were both killed in England, while doing war work. (He'd thought they were away on a long trip.) The plight of the world's children begins to prey on his mind, and one morning, when he awakes, his hair has turned bright green. For a while, the kids in the neighbor- hood think green hair is fascinating; Peter himself is pretty proud. But the community's grownups have prejudices. They don't want their children exposed to green hair. Peter's jeered at, and left alone. He comes to believe his green hair is to remind people that he's a war orphan, and that war is very bad for children. He realizes people are tired and busy and don't want to hear any more about war, but he's willing to fight the battle alone, until even Gramps seems to turn against him. Under pressure from the rest of the town, Gramps decides that perhaps it would be best if Peter's hair were shaved off. Brokenhearted, Peter runs away. I must admit I didn't understand the movie's ending. Be- cause after Gramps has found Peter and made his peace, and Peter's agreed to come home and continue his work on behalf of the world's children, we hear two doctors dis- cussing the boy. They say it doesn't matter whether Peter's hair was really green or not; all that matters was whether Peter beiieved it was. Since Peter's hair was green as grass, and you and I and all the towns- people believed it. this is awfully confusing. Still, it's a nice picture. It hits at bigotry, it pleads for war's forgotten victims, and cer- tainly. Dean Stockwell's a most appealing young actor. — RKO. Red River: Montgomery Gift, Joanne Dru and the hazards of cattle-raising in early Texas days. RED RIVER Across the Red River, a long time back, there was an untenanted stretch called Texas. All a man had to do was ride out from the East, stake a claim, kill any Mexican who came sneaking across the border to say he'd seen the land first, and start to work raising cattle. Which is the course of action John Wayne takes in the movie under discussion. He builds himself a regular beef empire, only to have the Civil War interfere with his plans. A wrecked South is no market for meat, and Texans have to find a way of getting their stock East, or see the work of years go for nothing. This picture is supposed to be a chronicle of the first long, painful trip driving cattle across country (via the Chisholm Trail) to a place in Kansas where a railroad to the East began. It's also the chronicle of Dunsan (John Wayne), a hard man whom the years have made harder; Matt (Montgomery Clift), the boy who's been a son to him, and the cold and terrible feud which grew between them. Long before the cattle reach the rail- road, or Wayne and Clift face one another with guns in their hands, you've had your money's worth of entertainment. You've seen cattle stampedes, and Indian fighting, and a cast including toothless Walter Brennan, Noah Beery, Jr., and the late Harry Carey. — U.A. GALLANT BLADE Couple of hundred years ago, France was in bad trouble. She'd been at war with half the countries in Europe, and her soldiers, tired of blood baths, were clamoring for peace. Fortunately (since men were desert- ing from the army at a good clip), the wars had about resolved themselves. The good general in charge of France's troops, as our story opens, is just about to send those troops home, when a certain Marshal (Victor Jory) convinces the Queen that France ought to make war on Spain. Spain hasn't done any- thing to warrant such action, but the way Victor's mind works, if you can't give the peasants bread, you've got to give them war. Fill their minds, and you won't have to fill ANN BLYTH, STARRING IN UNIVERSAL-INTERNATIONAL'S "RED CANYON". COLOR BY TECHNICOLOR Cy(** ; date ■ot me my.Prst 11 I never had even a blind date. THEN — these words in a magazine caught my eye . . . Ann Blyth believes soft, feminine- looking hands have tremendous ap- peal for a man. Says Ann, "I smooth my hands with Jergens Lotion." That very night 1 started using Jergens. SOON— it happened — my roommate's brother asked me out! Now we've a date for every evening! And I've noticed, Paul loves to hold my Jergens-smoothed hands! Your hands can be lovelier— softer, smoother than ever— with today's richer Jergens Lotion. Because it's a liquid, Jergens quickly furnishes the softening moisture thirsty skin needs. And Jergens Lotion is never oily or sticky. Still only 10# to $1.00 plus tax. Hollywood Stars Use Jergens Lotion 7 to 1 Over Any Other Hand Care Contains generous samples of Jergens Lotion, Powder, Face Cream and Dryad Deodorant. Send 10# to cover handling and postage to The Andrew Jergens Co., Box 6, Dept. 34A, Cincinnati 14, Ohio. Sorry, offer good in U.S.A. only, expires Dec. 31, 1949. Buy It At Your Favorite Store Lots of clever ideas on gift wrap- ping, party favors, holiday decorat- ing, in the "Scotch" Tape booklet, Tricks and Trim. For your free copy write toMinnesotaMining&Mfg.Co., 933 Fauquier Ave., St. Paul 6, Minn. © 1948 3M CO. EE) of headache, neuritis and neuralgia incredibly fast the way thousands of physicians and dentists recommend — EEEHD Here's why Anacin is like a doctor's prescription. That is, it contains not one but a combination of medically proved ingredients. Get Anacin Tablets today. their stomachs. Besides, the people are close to hating their own government (namely the Marshal) and the Marshal's willing to have them hate something else (namely Spain). The good general, whose heart is with his men, doesn't see it that way. He thinks there's been enough war, too much war. Ob- viously, he's a man to be put out of the way. But Marshal Victor reckons without Larry Parks, the general's aide, and the best swordsman in France. Larry dashes through the picture, avenging all the right people, and he even ends up with Victor's girl friend (Marguerite Chapman). In Technicolor, she's very nice to end up with. The general is ultimately freed from the prison where Victor stuck him, the queen is made to see the error of Victor's ways ("This means peace.'"), Victor himself is run through by Larry's gal- lant blade (the very sword the general gave him after ten loyal years, and the peasants go home and eat grass, I guess. — Col. BLOOD ON THE MOON The ethics in Blood on the Moon are a little unresolved. First of all, there's a conflict between a man named Lufton (Tom Tully), a cattle owner who feels that a large part of Texas ought to be grazing land for his beel, and a lot of homesteaders who're fight- ing for their small patches of land, and who think men have as much right to live as cows. Ordinarily, you'd be on their side. But it seems Lufton's a good soul, in his capitalistic way, whereas the homesteaders are being led by a big crook, Tate Riling (Robert Pres- ton). Truth is, Tate doesn't care about the homesteaders being over-run; he just wants to fix it so Lufton won't be able to find any graze for his cattle, and will have to sell it dirt-cheap (to him, Tate, of course). Up until now, Lufton's had his stock on the Ute Indian reservation (he's been selling beef to the government) but Tate's in cahoots with the government agent (Frank Faylen) and they've given Lufton his walking papers. That's when Lufton starts planning to move in on the homesteaders. Jim Garry (Bob Mitchum), an old friend of Tate's, comes rid- ing up to the whole mess looking for a job. Tate's already got one of Lufton's daughters (Phyllis Thaxter) in love with him, and he's using her to further his own shifty ends; an- other Lufton daughter (Barbara Bel Geddes) falls for Mitchum, and before the picture's over, half the people involved are shot quite dead. Walter Brennan, in a small part, is wonderful, and as taut, exciting Western drama goes, so is Blood on the Moon — RKO. FREE SUBSCRIPTIONS! You'll love our February cover with Esther Williams on it. In fact, you'll love the issue — because you're the people who help us write it. Really! You've been teiling us whom you like and we've taken it from there. Now we're coming back for more advice. The first 500 of you who mail in the questionnaire below will get the February, March and April issues of MODERN SCREEN — for free. So hurry! QUESTIONNAIRE What stories and features did you enjoy most in our January issue? WRITE THE NUMBERS I, 2, and 3 AT THE RIGHT OF YOUR 1st, 2nd and 3rd CHOICES. The Truth About James Mason . . . □ The Ten Greatest Myths of Holly- wood by Hedda Hopper L7J And Baby Makes Three {June Allyson-Dick Powell) □ She's A Big Girl Now! {Elizabeth Taylor) , □ He Got What He Wanted {Larry Parks) □ Parting Is Such Sorrow {Gloria DeHaven-John Payne) □ Picture Of The Month {Enchantment) □ Perpetual Emotion {Cyd Charisse-Tony Martin) □ Louella Parsons' Good News □ Mother Was Never Like This {Joan Bennett) D The Christmas I'll Never Forget by Alida Valli □ The Gang's All Here {Ann Blyth) □ Robert Walker: Tragic Figure □ The Mocambo Affairs □ Why Jimmy Stewart Won't Marry . □ This Secret Power by Greer Garson □ Which of the above did you like LEAST? What 3 MALE stars would you like to read about in future issues? List them, I, 2, 3, in order of preference What 3 FEMALE stars would you like to read about in future issues? List them, I, 2, 3, in order of preference What MALE star do you like least? What FEMALE star do you like least? My name is My address is City Zone State I am yeors old ADDRESS THIS TO: POLL DEPT.. MODERN SCREEN. BOX 125. MURRAY HILL STATION. NEW YORK 16. N. Y. Return of October: Professor Glenn Ford be- comes involved with a horse-lover, Terry Moore. RETURN OF OCTOBER James Gleason is Terry Moore's uncle, as the Technicolored .Return of October opens. But the poor fellow has a heart attack when his horse loses a race, and this leaves Terry alone in the world, with nothing to do except go and live at her rich old Aunt Martha's house. Up until now, she's bummed around with Uncle Willie, and all she knows is horses. She knows some touts, too. They're a docile bunch; they just love little Terry, they allow her to stay up late shooting craps with them, and they even allow her to walk off with the pots in a way no nice-mannered girl would do. However, I'm quibbling. Trouble is, I found very little to admire in Miss Terry. For instance, she hitches a ride with Glenn Ford (who's a Professor Bassett at a nearby college) and in the short time she's with him, she says sneeringly, "Phi Beta Kappa, what's that?" (she has a habit of acting snobbish about education, a little of which wouldn't have hurt her a bit), and she also tells him he's a "schnookle" be- cause he doesn't know from horses. Any- how, to make a long story, her rich Aunt Martha admires her for being such a spunky little critter (Aunt Martha's other dependents are a weak-kneed lot) and Terry is indulged more than you'd believe possible. Ultimately, she has another run-in with Glenn Ford, when they both show up at a horse-auction trying to buy the same sad horse, a wind-sucker called October. Ford wants it for some scien- tific research at the college; Terry wants it because she thinks it's her Uncle Willie. Be- lieve it or not, she's noted a resemblance. That, coupled with the fact that Uncle Wil- lie'd always said if he ever came back, he'd come back as a horse and win the Derby, decides her. From there, it gets really wild. Glenn Ford is fine; Albert Sharpe, late of Finian's Rainbow, is more or less wasted in a small Irish part; Jimmy Gleason is swell, and Terry Moore is a round-faced blend of Deanna Durbin and Joan Leslie. — Col. THE RED SHOES Hans Christian Andersen, in one of his grim little tales for children, told of a girl whose shoes would not stop dancing, and who died (presumably of exhaustion) when LITTLE LULU "Blow hard, Alvin— KLEENEX* can take it!" 'Little Lulu says: From sniffle to gesundheit, your nose knows Kleenex is your best buy in tissues. Soft! Strong! You pull one double tissue (not a handful)— up pops another! C International Cellucotton Products Co. *T. M. Reg. TJ. S. Pat. Off. Earn Extra Money! Full, Spare Time! YOU can make many EXTRA DOLLARS with our new, sell-on-sight Plastic Line! 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They are a young man named Julian Craster (Marius Goring), who writes music, and a girl named Victoria Page (Moira Shearer), who wants to dance. Ler- montov's passion for the ballet entirely rules his life. When his premiere ballerina an- nounces that she's going to be married, he takes this for a reprehensible sign of human frailty, and so far as he's concerned, she's all washed up. He starts training Victoria, in whom he detects signs of more than or- dinary ' ability, coupled with a dedication equal to his own. She says she lives to dance, and he believes her. The company travels, and Julian and Vicky both grow. Julian writes a ballet called "The Red Shoes" about a girl whose dancing shoes keep her from finding peace until she dies. Vicky dances the lead; the role makes her a star. But Julian and Vicky fall in love, and this enrages Lermontov, who claims that the work of both is sure to suffer. To a sharp eye it's apparent that Lermontov himself is in love with Vicky. There's a quarrel, and Julian leaves the company. Vicky goes with him; they get married. Julian writes an opera — he's busy and happy — but Vicky misses her dancing. When Lermontov schemes to get her back, he succeeds. "Nobody else has ever danced 'The Red Shoes'," he tells her. "Have you forgotten your ambitions?" The way things work out (or don't work out), Julian's opera and the ballet are both scheduled to open the same night; Vicky refuses to give up her dancing just to stay by Julian's side; Julian leaves her forever, and there's nothing for the poor girl to do but go leaping off a parapet to her death, thereby carrying out the symbolism of "The Red Shoes." The end- ing is too melodramatic, even if it was in- evitable. You keep thinking that stubborn couple might have effected some sort of com- promise and lived happily ever after. The picture's two and a half hours long, con- tains a full-length ballet, exquisite Techni- color, and superb performances by everyone concerned, including the great dancer Leon- ide Massine. — Eagle-Lion THE PALEFACE Jane Russell, that gorgeous, gorgeous crea- ture, is cast here as Calamity Jane, famous lady hotshot of Injun fightin' days. Governor somebody-or-other gets her out of the clink where she's been languishing for some un- named sin, and promises her a full pardon if she'll take a job as a federal agent. He wants her to go West and find out who's been selling dynamite and other messy play- things to a feller named Chief Yellow Feathers. (In the end, it turns out that one of the governor's own sneaky little aides done it, but we've got a while to go yet.) Jane takes up with a dentist called Painless Peter Potter (Bob Hope) because he's con- veniently dumb, and she can make him marry her. (A lone woman traveling West in a The Paleface: Federal agent Jane Russell uses dentist Hope as a decoy for her sleuthing. wagon train might arouse some attention.) When the rumor spreads that a federal agent is with the caravan, Jane manages to shift suspicion to Bob. Whoever kills Bob, she figures, will be the villain she's after. The logic of this is immediately apparent. Bob, however, shows a stubborn inclination to keep breathing. He scrambles through- the picture, never quite sure what's going on, the swaggering, bragging hero, often cut down by his own rare candor. There's the time Yellow Feather's boys attack a log cabin, and Bob's locked outside. He leaps into a rain barrel, and heroically aims his gun over the top. "All those Indians," he sighs, "against one coward." The Paleiace is hilarious, exciting, lovely to look at, and the song, "Buttons and Bows," started there. If you miss it, have your head examined. — Para. UNFAITHFULLY YOURS You get a little bit of everything here, and it's all Preston Sturges'. He wrote, produced, directed. To begin with, Sir Alfred De Carter (Rex Harrison), a baronet who leads a sym- phony orchestra, is married to Linda Darnell. Linda's sister, Barbara Lawrence, is married to Rudy Vallee. Rudy's a millionaire, a stuffed shirt — oh, you know the kind of parts they give Rudy Vallee. Well, Rex comes home from a concert tour and finds that Rudy's been looking out for his interests; in fact, he's had a detective trailing Linda. At first, Rex is enraged, but the more gossip he hears about Linda, the more curious he becomes. One night he's conducting Tschaikovsky, and, as the music swells, you (the audience) see into his (Rex's, not Tschaikovsky 's) mind's eye, where he's neatly plotting Linda's murder. Everything goes smoothly, Rex's secretary (Kurt Kreuger), the man under suspicion of being Linda's boyfriend, burns for the murder, and it's a highly satisfactory dream. But as the concert continues. Rex's mood changes. We see him conjuring up a scene in which he gives Linda c huge check, and forgives her. "Youth cries to youth," he whispers, tragically. The movie turns into high (or low) farce, when the real-life Rex, attempt- ing to re-create one of the scenes he'd ex- Unfaithfully Yours: Rex Harrison suspects his wife, Linda Darnell, and secretary Kurt Kreuger. ecuted so perfectly in his imagination, very nearly executes himself. Anyhow, Linda wasn't guilty in the first place, and you should have known it right along. — 20th-Fox. MACBETH Life Magazine gasped itself into a convul- sion over this production, the Luce critics thought it was so funny. And the audience tittered the night I saw it, too. Which leaves me nowhere, because I thought it was fine. Furthermore, I thought Orson Welles, as the ambitious but tortured Macbeth, was both impressive and moving, even if he did carry funny looking pike-staffs (and what's the matter with authenticity anyhow?). Some liberties were taken with Shakespeare, but name me a Shakespearean production where some weren't. The story's still about the General, Macbeth, whose ruthless wife urges him to kill Scotland's king, and take the crown for himself. Murder leads to murder as the fearful Macbeth attempts to insure his new power, and eventually even Lady Mac- beth splits under the strain. She goes pitching off a cliff, quite unhinged. (Shakespeare didn't specify how the wicked female died, so Orson just picked a way which pleased him.) The music for Macbeth is thrilling, Jeannette Nolan is the same as Lady M., and two of the most wonderful performances are given by Dan O'Herlihy and Peggy Webber as Macduff and Lady Macduff, victims of Mac- beth's treachery. Roddy McDowall seemed to me miscast as Malcolm, son of the slain king, but surely that's a matter of taste. The three horrible witches prophesy in their croaking fashion, an army marches on Mac- beth, justice moves to its inevitable victory, and the beautiful words of the old play lose nothing because they're spoken with Scottish brogues. After all, the thing happens in Scotland. — Rep. ROAD HOUSE fload House has to do with Richard Wid- mark, a sweet young fellow who happens to be a homicidal maniac by avocation; Cornel Wilde, his oldest friend; Ida Lupino, a girl who can't sing, but makes a living at it; and Celeste Holm, everybody's stooge. Widmark owns a road house — he's a very rich boy, due to his having had a very rich father — ' (Continued on page 96) One Permanent Cost $15... the TONI only $2 Make vour first New Year Resolution — a Toni Home Permanent! Yes, decide right now to give yourself a Toni and have lovelier, more natural-looking waves than ever before! 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So, for your second Toni wave, all you need is the Toni Refill Kit. It costs only $1 . . . yet there's no finer permanent at any price! Which twin has the TONI? Attractive Frances and Bernadette Han- son live in New York City. Frances, the twin on the right, says: "My Toni Wave was soft and natural-looking right from the start." Bernadette says, "We're Toni Twins from now on!" a month use Toni 23 It was a moment for Leincf a woman for only a woman's weapon i Dear Champions of 1948: A roll of drums and a flourish of trumpets! On the following two pages, we are honored to announce you as the winners of modern screen's 1948 star-popularity poll — the most extensive survey of fan preferences ever conducted by any magazine. You've been voted their favorites by our more than four-and-a-half million readers in every part of the country in every age group. You're entitled to feel pretty proud about it. Our heartiest congratulations go to you, Lana Turner, for emerging as top star among the ladies. You've done it despite a really savage working-over this year by certain portions of the press. But your constantly gracious attitude toward the fans, your honest, whole-hearted performances in screen roles, and the courageous dignity you've shown under stress have been rewarded by rich dividends of loyalty from friends old and new. We're also very happy about you, Alan Ladd, for being first among the males. You're another who, in your personal dealings, seems always to achieve a warm, easy friendliness. And while your films this past year have established no cinematic milestones, you've unfailingly projected in them one of the most clean-cut and arresting personalities in screen history — a personality solidly backed by the sincerity and dependable professionalism which from the beginning have marked your work. To you, Misses Temple, Grable, Bergman and Allyson, and to you, Messrs. Crosby, Power, Gable and Rogers — who have earned the great distinction of crowding your Hollywood colleagues for top popularity — to all of you we join our readers in extending congratulations and best wishes for continuing success in the careers that have given us so much top-notch entertainment, beauty and enlightenment. You're the winners. It couldn't have happened to nicer movie stars. EDITOR to the winners ! You Voted Lana Turner Top Actress Of 1948 In Modern Screen's Popularity Poll ■ Lana Turner became a household word in 1948. Tons of newsprint were devoted to her engagement and marriage to Bob Topping and their honeymoon abroad — during which she drew violent attacks when the. press decided she was behaving too independently. But you voters stuck by Lana, the friendly person, the sincere actress. . . . You voted Shirley Temple second only to Lana. Certainly the birth of Linda Susan endeared Shirley to us more than ever — if that's possible ! . . . . Betty Grable, who came in third, made little news — she just kept on being the one-and-only wonderful Betty. . . . Ingrid Bergman, No. 4 on your list, remained "the first lady of Hollywood" — a simple, beautiful personality, still touched with mystery. . . . June Allyson, in placing fifth, continued to demonstrate the strong attraction of her sparkling qualities of freshness and youth. 26 You Voted Alan Ladd Top Actor Of 1948 In Modern Screen's Popularity Poll ■ Modern Screen readers first made us Ladd-conscious back in 1942. We've been featuring four Ladd stories a year, or better, ever since — by popular demand. And now you've voted Alan your top male favorite in 1948. . . . As for Crosby, the guy must have no enemies. Yep, everybody loves the character, and it's no surprise to find you've voted him into the No. 2 slot. . . . Neither are we startled to see Tyrone Power only a few votes behind the Groaner. There's a movie idol as is a movie idol — handsome, suave, but perennially boyish. . . . That Gable man, whom you voted fourth, had only one film in 1948, and it wasn't too sensational. But to you and you — and us — he's still Mr. Hollywood. . . . Maybe your fifth choice, Roy Rogers, deserves a citation for proving that a cowboy can marry the girl and still keep his fans. But he's Roy — and she's Dale! PEOPLE BELIEVE ALMOST ANYTHING ABOUT HOLLYWOOD. FOLLOWING ARE TEN MOST CHERISHED FABLES: 1. All stars are rich as Croesus and spend their mil- lions like sailors on a spree. 2. All Hollywood parties are sin-soaked orgies. 3. Stars guzzle whiskey and sniff dope for breakfast, lunch and dinner. 4. Studios arrange all star romances. 5. You have to be the boss's girl friend to get ahead. 6. You have to play lots of politics to stay on top. 7. All producers have LQ.'s two grades below a moron. 8. All child stars are spoiled brats. 9. Stars change wives and husbands every hour on the hour. 10. All stars hate Holly- wood like poison and are dying to shake its Stardust from their feet. the 1 ten great myths of hollywood by hedda er There isn't a Hollywood fable Hedda Hopper doesn't know Now this astute reporter takes up her pen to explode ten of the most frequently circulated myths . 28 ■ "Hollywood must be such an awfully weird place," the lady quivered. "Imagine Shirley Temple and that Mickey Rooney posing as child prodigies when everyone knows they're really midgets." I put on my most confidential expression. "And my dear," I stage-whispered, "think of Clark Gable and those artificial ears!" I could see her vibrate like a harp. That was some years ago, of course, at a party back East, and I'm ashamed of myself now for kicking along a gag with a gullible gal, but she had it coming to her. Yet today; when you'd think people would know better, I still hear just such crazy convictions about Hollywood and its stars wherever I go, told to me with strictly straight faces and sincere belief. Well, let's go to work and turn up some facts about these fictions. The first puffed-up myth I'd like to explode is the one that says Hollywood stars live like Roman emperors gone money-mad. Pooh — and pooh again! I can show you palaces and estates on Long Island, Grosse Pointe or even staid old Philadelphia's Main Line that outshine anything you can find around Bel-Air or Beverly Hills. The difference is, you don't see their pictures every time a printing press rolls. Maybe you'll be shocked to know that a good half of Hollywood's gold-plated guys and gals figuratively hock the family silver along about February of each year so they can pay their income tax. Then they spend the next 12 months catching up and paying back! How come — with salaries in the four figures and all that? Well, the way it works out, if you make $5000 a week, around $800 of it stays in your pants pocket or alligator purse. That's scarcely enough to live like the Nizam of Hyderabad. Hollywood's lords and ladies aren't dining on humming birds' wings off gold plate or having attendants holding their trains these days. Servant staffs have dwindled almost to the vanishing point; rare is the star who has over two. The Bob Taylors, Irene Dunne, Claudette Colbert and Joan Crawford get along with couples where there used to be at least four well-paid hired hands. Paulette Goddard recently sold her house, and now lives in an apartment with one maid. (At least one paid helper is a Hollywood necessity — someone has to be on hand to handle telephone calls, housework, babies or what ails you when a picture's shooting.) Now what about those fine feathers? Well, Hollywood's stars are on display every minute. A legend of grandness surrounds them, and who puts it there? You and you. What's more, you want it there. That's why I say to every young star I meet, "Learn how to dress. Dress well, expensively. It's the best. {Continued on page 62) At 18, she was lovely. But 20 years and four daughters can do things to a woman — they've made Joan Bennett more beautiful, ■ It happened at the wedding reception. Joan Bennett's oldest daughter, Diana, had just been married to a tall blond lad named John Hardy Anderson, and both families stood grouped in the garden, chatting. One of the late-tomers to the reception, a non-professional who couldn't tell Greer Garson from Betty Grable, was a little shocked by the proceedings. Cuddling close to her escort, she whispered, "Of course I must be wrong — but the bride looks very much pregnant to me!" The escort smiled. "Mmm, hmm," he said. "Only that's not the bride. That girl you're staring at is the bride's mother!" A month later Joan Bennett gave birth to her fourth daughter and thus became the only active actress in Hollywood with four children of her own. Shelley Wanger was born on July 4th, 1948, and immediately following her earthly arrival, the movie colony's feline contingent began clawing away at her mother's career. "It's amazing!" I heard one old witch explain to a friend at Romanoff's. "It really is. I always thought Joan Bennett was a smart little cookie. I thought she'd have the baby on the q. t. — you know, maybe in Santa Barbara or some place like that. But no! Right here in Hollywood. And four children! I mean she's supposed to be a glamorous screen siren — and what man wants to see a screen siren with four daughters? And another thing — marrying her daughter off in public like that. Doesn't she realize she can get to be a grandmother that way?" {Continued on page 93) The star of Blank Wall, at 38, is the only active movie siren with four daughters. Oldest, Diana, expects her baby in March. Joan, holding baby Shelley, with Stephanie, five, and Melissa, 14. by alida valli ■ I was shivering and barely awake when my mother came into the room. That winter in Rome you didn't need to get out of bed in the morning to get cold; you were cold all night. You awoke cold, even if it were Christmas Day. I heard my mother calling. "// Giorno de Natale, Alida," she was saying. ''Or have you forgotten?" I hadn't forgotten. Nor was I forgetting something else that wasn't so pleasant to think about. It was on my mind as I slipped from under the blankets into my clothes, with no freezing seconds lost in between, you may be sure. Christmas of 1944. There was no fuel for heating. There was enough electricity to operate a small electric heater for a few hours — no more. There was almost no food. You either had it saved up, grew something of your own, or else stood endlessly in long lines with your silly ration card in your hand; silly because even the few ounces of edibles it entitled you to were rarely to be had. There was no busi- ness, no factories running, no work to be done. There were just houses in which people lingered and starved, and in the streets German military — the'angry and fearful German military. They had excellent reason for feeling nervous. This was the winter after Italy had officially surrendered and gone over to the Allied cause. {Continued on page 82) Mother and I were alone in the cold room, remembering the sounds of other Italian Christmases . . . and then came the dreaded pounding on the door. he christmas never forget 33 Always, she'd dreamed of a home of her own. So when the dream came true at last, Ann Blyth couldn't wait another minute. She invited the whole gang over for a rollicking house-warming party! gang's all here! Jane Powell and Lon McCallister get Ann Blyth's house-warming party The bubble gum came in six colors, but Janet Leigh had trouble started with a be-ribboned gift. The house is a five-minute drive from with even one kind. Success was brief, for Danny Scholl came the studio, which allows Ann 10 extra minutes of sleep in the morning. along and burst it on her face, sending her off to repair damages. ■ It was Ann Blyth on the telephone. "The paint isn't quite dry on the walls and the movers are just bringing in my new piano — but you're invited to a house-warming party tonight . . . Yes, tonight — right away! I can't wait." No more apartments for Ann ! No more thumping on the Walls when the dog got playful. It was eight rooms of beautiful space and all hers — and the first house she'd ever lived in. Her impatience to get going was really under- standable. By 7- p.m. the hostess and house were ready. A fire glowed in the living-room and gay balloons (filled with helium) hugged the ceiling. The aroma of roast turkey drifted in from the kitchen. Outside, tacked over the door, was a sign bidding all "welcome to Casa de Ann." And standing beneath it were we. We being Jane Powell, Elizabeth Taylor, Lon McCallister, Arthur Loew and ourselves. A step behind us were Mel Torme and Susan Perry. Lon gave the doorbell his familiar ring — two longs and a short. The door of the Spanish stucco swung open. There was a confusion of "Greetings, Senorita!" . . . "Buenas tardes!" . . . and some "Hi, Ann's!" from the less bi-lingual. A highlight of the evening was a game called "Let's pin the balloons on Lon," with Liz Taylor, Scott Brady and Dick Moore the chief partici- pants. Afterwards, Liz took a ribbing about her beau, Lieut. Glenn Davis. Janie and Liz didn't bother taking off their jackets. They just had to see the house first. Ann wore the grin of a proud owner as she conducted the tour of inspection. "There's cross ventilation here . . . and pegged hardwood floors there . . . and unit heat . . . and linen closets . . . and a music room . . . and . . ." "It's a shame," Art Loew dead-panned. "A beautiful spot like this and no yard!" "Ah, so you want the fifty-cent tour," Ann smiled. We followed her to the patio, which overlooks the large back- yard. It's a typical California setting. The grounds are dotted with flowers and fruit trees. There's a barbecue grill and plenty of space for that "hoped for" swimming pool. The garage is extra large. It houses the deep freeze as well as many of Ann's film stills. Our invasion of the backyard proved to be a mistake. Ann has a dog named Chad. He's a huge Afghan whose ancestors guarded the pyramids in Egypt. To Chad, Ann's the pyramids. When his barking subsided, we could hear laughter coming from the house. It was late-comers — Douglas Dick, Gloria Jean, Danny Scholl, Janet Leigh and Dick Moore. They'd let them- selves in and were happily munching on dill pickles and celery stalks. (Continued on next page) Mel Torme coaxes Jane, Scott, Susan Perry, Bonnie and Lon to record their housewarming sentiments for posterity. Lon's were quite lyrical: "It's grand, Ann," "It's zanie, Janie," etc. the gang's all here Upstairs, Ann shows Janet, Liz and Janie her doll collection, started when she was three. The bedroom is the one Ann's dreamed of for years — except for a bed-canopy, which had to be discarded because the ceiling's too low! Janie, Lon and Doug give the spinet a whirl, while Danny Scholl, Janet Leigh, Liz Taylor, Ann and Art Loew egg them on. Later, to prove her song in Mr. Peabody wasn't dubbed, Ann sang the eerie mermaid wail. {Continued from preceding page) "Hey, where did you get those?" demanded Susan Perry. "Snitched them from the table," they confessed. "Never mind, Susan — you can chomp on this," suggested Ann. "This" turned out to be Edgar Bergen's new bub- ble gum, which comes in six colors and makes king- sized bubbles. Gloria Jean immediately chose a lico- rice piece which she saw fit to pep up with occasional nibbles on her pickle. Lon and Doug Dick were busy christening Ann's new spinet piano, so Janie Powell took a piece for herself and for each of the boys. She selected red, yellow and* green — and made rainbow bubbles, which she promptly began snapping in Lon's ear. This was more than Janet Leigh could accomplish. At first she simply couldn't blow bubbles. And when she did manage to puff out a baby-sized one, Danny Scholl burst it on ier face. With a series of sputter- ing threats, she departed for Ann's bedroom to repair the damage. Ann's bedroom is papered in a riotous rambling- rose print which enlivens the mahogany period furniture. The four-poster bed has a pale-blue satin spread, skirted with stiff white organdy. On it is displayed part of her doll collection, which Ann started when she was three. In. one corner of the room is a specially lighted makeup mirror, which is dandy for applying cosmetics — or repairing bubble gum casualties. Sooner or later every girl had an opportunity to try it out. When Gloria Jean came in, she sighed, "Ann, your room is beautiful! Did an interior decorator help you?" "No," said Ann, "but I've always dreamed of a room like this. When I was off the screen with my back injury, I used to lie in bed planning where everything would go." It was during this period of convalescence that Ann took up sewing and made many of the doilies and cushions that now decorate the room. "The only thing lacking," confided Ann, "is a canopy over my bed. I bought one all right — and then discovered the ceiling was too low for it. It's currently beautifying the garage." Ann's discourse was interrupted by Scott Brady's loud off-stage whisper from the living room: "Well, men, since the girls have deserted us, guess we'll all have double portions of everything." We ran in to join 'em! {Continued on page S5) .36 Reba, Liz, Lon and Jane help Ann make the food disappear. Below: the kids squat comfortably on Dick Moore, whose dinner's being threatened by the rug — all except runaway balloon. To go with the roast turkey, there were bowls of steaming spaghetti, hot potato salad, cookies and apple cider. For some of Ann's special party recipes, see MODERN SCREEN'S new Fan Fare column on page 91. I II What are the real reasons behind Bob Walker's bewildering behavior? One of Hollywood's foremost reporters cuts through the headlines to tell you what they are. . . . TRAGIC ■ "Cut your lawn for fifty cents, sir?" The little eight-year-old boy was very appealing. The owner of the big house — one of the biggest in Ogden, Utah — smiled down as he hurried out to his car. "Sure, son, if you want to," he said. So the ambitious little boy spent all that Saturday morning in mighty toil, shoving the heavy mower back and forth, back and forth • across the big lawn. And then — "Hfi never paid me," said Robert Walker just the other day, with as much bitterness as if the incident had happened yesterday instead of 21 years ago. "I'll never forgive him," he added in dead earnest. Sensitive, suspicious, filled with unforgotten heartache, Robert Walker seems to be going through life, with the self-indulgent conviction that every man and woman is his active or potential enemy. Some of his friends think it all begati in just such little incidents in his childhood as that busy house-owner's forgetting to pay him the fifty cents. Others explain it by the oft-advanced theory that he has never recovered from the shock of his divorce from Jennifer Jones. In any event, his friends were given fresh cause for sorrow a few weeks ago when the unpredictable young man made headlines — and news photos — by being arrested and fined in Los Angeles (Continued on page 84) Bob os he appeared in a Los Anqeles police station, when he was booked on charges of being "drunk, noisy, loud and boisterous." ■ People have parties at the Mocambo on the slightest provo- cation. People such as Judy Garland and Cary Grant and Clark Gable and Joan Crawford. Sometimes these affairs are so big our walls bulge — and sometimes we have four or five such jumbo gatherings in the room at once. But often the party will be strictly a table for two. Maybe this kind is the most interesting. The Mocambo, in case you don't know, is a Hollywood night club on Sunset Boulevard. The name comes from a little cantina in Vera Cruz. The decor we dreamed up by ourselves. The room is a splash of bright colors. One whole wall is a glassed-in bird cage in which some 200 parakeets, macaws, rice birds and love birds flit back and forth. We've had people say, "Good grief, the wallpaper's moving!'' But most of our guests are used to the tropical birds by now. Some people say until you've been partied at the Mocambo you haven't arrived. I don't know about that. But if you're on the way up, and if you're a nice person we'll be partying for you sooner or later. The romantic parties are the most fun. I'm getting so I can detect the approach of wedding bells — usually before the anxious swain has phrased the question. When Tony Martin started courting Cyd Charisse, he would call us to make sure we had table flowers of the right color for a little party he was 40 giving Cyd. Right away I marked Cyd and Tony down as altar prospects. Beautiful Jane Greer was a certainty for a gold band when Ed Lasker first saw her in Mocambo and started dating her there three times a week. You could tell by the smile on Ed's face. Anyone at Mocambo could see that Marie McDonald and Harry Karl were slated for domestic partnership. But some people laughed when I told them my perennial bachelor friend, Mike Romanoff, was soon to move off the singles list. Well, just the other day he married Gloria Lister and confirmed what I'd been saying. And it was clear after Mocambo date number three that Eleanor Parker was going to say yes when Bert by charlie morrison proprietor of the famous Mocambo Dreams for two, and cocktails, dinners that say goodbye — these are the Mocambo affairs, these are the evenings that should never end . . . Mocambo-goer Peter Lav/ford stops for cigarettes (above) on. his way in for a gay evening (left). Burt Lancaster and his wife Norma (below) rarely step out but do so here. * 41 the mocambo affairs - • - - - ] Parlies at the Mocambo are given for any and no reason. This one Errol Flynn's tiffs have occasionally put the Mocambo on the was in Joe Pasternak's honor the night he left on a Honolulu front page. Owner Morrison doesn't like this kind of notoriety, but vacation. Jimmy Durante bids Joe a fond farewell for the camera. he likes Errol and Nora Flyrm. Her&, h& escorfs them to their car. There can be two or two hundred at a Mocambo affair — they all One of Charlie's favorite and best-dressed guests is Clark Gable get the same svelte service. Shirley and John Agar usually sit home (here with Nancy "Slim" Hawkes). Clark usually throws big parties by the fire, but even they can't escape the lure of this night club. — an easy and gala way of paying off his many social obligations. Van Heflin and his wife usuaHy rough it in slacks and sweaters, but Before his marriage to Lita Baron (above), Rory Calhoun was high they dress up for the Mocambo. Family couples like the Heflins on Morrison's list of unattached men. As soon as he started asking come to Charlie's place often. Here, they're with the Morrisons. for special flower arrangements, Morrison knew it meant romance. (Continued from page 41) Friedlob got up enough steam. Our largest headaches in the party line happen once a year. On schedule. That's on Academy Award night. About a week before, the trouble starts. Some big studio executive gets Albert, our maitre d' hotel, on. the phone. "We can't miss winning the Award, Albert," he says. "I want .to give Mary the biggest and nicest party she's ever had." "Certainly, sir," Albert replies. "Will do." What he doesn't, and can't, tell him is that just a few minutes before he had approximately the same conversation with a man from another studio, and the name was Betty. Yesterday it was someone from still another studio ordering festivities for a girl called Dorothy. What do we cjo? Besides going quietly nuts, I mean. We'll go ahead and stage parties for everybody. Thank heavens, we've never met a movie personality (Continued on page 95) Diana Lynn and Bob Neal were a steady Mocambo duo before her engagement to architect John Lindsay. Here she and Bob await their table (below). t why jimmy Stewart won't marry ■ The way Jimmy Stewart is becoming more and more the confirmed, self-possessed bachelor seems a little sad to many of his friends. The girls who are escorted by Jimmy nowadays find him interesting, humorous (in his own dry, hesitant way) and attentive (his gaze never strays away from his partner to see who might be coming in the door, or to scan the people at other tables, nor does he table-hop). He is even quite willing to talk about marriage — but he likes to talk about it impersonally. His preference is for girls who can take to the subject in the same spirit. Sooner or later that is made pretty clear to any girl who indicates to Jimmy that she has specific ideas on the matter. When the outside world — in the form, say, of a columnist or magazine writer — tries to pry romantically, Jimmy turns the questions aside expertly or pokes fun at them cleverly. Nobody can banter better than Jimmy. Just now the queries seem mainly to concern Gloria Hatrick MacLean, recently divorced from the wealthy Ned MacLean. Does he plan to marry her? "She hasn't asked me yet," he comes back blithely. Or someone will want to know how it feels to be going out with a girl like Gloria MacLean (Continued on page 78) 44 Do shadows stand between Jimmy and marriage . . . shadows of a small town boyhood ... of a secret love that knows no ending and no fulfillment? BY JACK WADE Before she married Jack Briggs, Ginger Rogers was frequently seen with Jimmy — as were so many others. It was predicted that Olivia De Havilland would marry Jimmy — whom she cal "super-shy." But Olivia is now Mrs. Marcus Goodrich. Luck? Ability? They often help. But there's something else to getting what you want — this secret power that makes things so . . . SECRET POWER flu ■ One day, two years ago, I was playing a scene for Desire Me on a shelf of ragged rocks that reached out into the Pacific Ocean. The coast at Big Sur in California is wild and fierce with high, sheer cliffs and the surf comes in like a cavalry charge to shatter and retreat in roaring confusion out to sea. I didn't see the huge comber until it was too late. The next thing/ 1 knew the sky blotted out with a roar and I rolled over the flinty edges toward the edge of our precarious picture stage. I don't remember being frightened. But I certainly do remember hugging those sharp rocks with all my might even though they cut and bruised. Suddenly, painful as it was, that jagged ledge was the most precious thing in the universe.. I was on the brink when strong arms caught and pulled me back. After I got out of the hospital some days later, I celebrated my rescue with a little party at a cottage I have at Pebble Beach, nearby. Over steak, chips and beer, we talked of my narrow squeak. The Big Sur fisherman who had grabbed me in the nick of time to save my life was there, of course, and I remember saying to him: "How do you suppose I ever managed to stay on that ledge long enough to be rescued?" "Miss Garson,'' he smiled, "I guess it was because you just wanted to like the devil!" So many times in my life I've asked myself : Why does what happens to you happen? So many times I've had no better answer than that which the fisherman gave me. Anything that happens — especially a narrow escape from drowning — you can explain in thousands of ways. Providence, of course; luck, if you will; the intricate meshing of time and conditions. In my case, the width in feet and inches of the rocky ledge, the spent wave, a fisherman's strong arms. But there's always something else, too: Wanting. Every day I get letters from people anxious to achieve something — such as a Hollywood career. "Miss Garson," they ask me. "how can I become a star?" I can't answer their questions. I don't know the answers. . If I did. I'd broadcast to the world the magic words. But all I know about getting anywhere you want is that there are three very essential things: wanting, trying — and getting the opportunity, the breaks. None works alone without the others. Wanting is basic. Trying is up to you. And the breaks — I do know this — they always happen. One evening some years ago, I was having dinner (Continued on page 86) 46 and Home from Little Women set, June hongs out part of her baby's laundry. 48 Six months old, Allyson (she's there on the bathinette) has a tooth about ready to show and delights her folks with gurgles. ■ Outside the nursery door June stopped and squeezed her hands together until the knuckles turned white. She'd rushed home like a crazy girl the minute that dragging day at the studio ended. The phone on Lot 2 had rung be- tween every take, it seemed, with Dick at the other end saying, exasperatingly, "Hello, Honey? She's not here yet." "Keep calling! Don't forget! Tell me, tell me the minute it happens! . . ." And then, finally, Dick's excited burst : "She's here and she's wonderful ! Hurry home, hurry!" / And now she was home and this was the moment, the time she'd see that baby at last. June Allyson felt sud- denly all gone and tiny and little-girlish, weak and scared as a rabbit. Beside her, Dick grasped her waist with one hand and clamped a handkerchief over his face with the other. She'd always thought they'd do this together — bend over their adopted baby for the very first time. But now Dick had her cold — the one she'd been in bed with when the terrific news had come that the baby was on the way — and Dick didn't dare step a foot in the nursery where the seven-weeks-old baby lay. "I'll be out here, Honey. You go on in with Olie." June turned to Miss Olsen, the nurse. "Do you mind?" she said. "I'd like to go in alone. I'm afraid of what I'll do. I don't know what I'll say, or how I'll act. I might cry . . ." Olie smiled and waved June in to her greatest, most im- portant entrance. A half hour later, or maybe more, Miss Olsen had to knock discreetly. "Mrs. Powell — I think perhaps it's time the baby . . ." "I'm coming," replied June — but it was another half hour before she backed out, away from that awesome bundle in the pink and blue basket, the amazing, incredible bud of life she'd tip-toed up to and stared at with her own little-girl mouth open and her head tilted sidewise, ador- ingly. Then she'd whispered, "Jo — (Continued on page 88) by sara sothern taylor This is such • a wonderful time for Elizabeth, standing on the brink of -womanhood . . . a time for pearls and perfumes and parties — and some very embarrassing moments! she's a big girl now! Contrast the Elizabeth of Little Women with the somewhat less glamorous photograph, next page, taken in '46. Mrs. Taylor has okayed Liz' beau, Lt. Glenn Davis, who is with the Army in Korea. Liz waits for the day he'll return. 50s This heart-warming portrait of Elizabeth Taylor on the threshold of maturity is made especially timely by the current reports of her "romance" with Lieutenant Glenn Davis, the ex-West Pointer of football fame. With good-humored understanding and delightful frankness, her mother — as only she could — here gives the answers to that and to other ques- tions concerning Elizabeth. — The Editors ■ One noon Elizabeth and I went to the studio commissary for lunch. Elizabeth was wearing pedal-pushers, because slacks or pedal-pushers are the easiest thing to climb into mornings, when you're in a hurry. But that day we were under the eyes of experts. Walter Plunkett, who made the lovely period costumes for Little Women, was sitting with Helen Rose, designer of those sensationally beautiful clothes in Date With Judy. As we passed their table, Mr. Plunkett waylaid me. "Mrs. Taylor — I hope you'll understand what I'm about to say, and if you don't — just skip it. But Helen and I have decided that Elizabeth isn't the type for pedal-pushers." "I wish you'd tell her that," I answered. So they did. "Oh, I can take a hint," said Elizabeth. "You mean I'm a little too plump." {Continued on page 74) SEVEN-YEAR-OLD GIGI PERREAU AS SHE APPEARS IN ENCHANTMENT. HER AMAZING PERFORMANCE IS A MAJOR ASSET OF THIS FINE FILM. ■ If Samuel Goldwyn's Enchantment had no other claim to distinction, it would still be a notable motion picture because of the brief appearance, early in the story, of an actress named Gigi Perreau. Gigi Perreau is seven years old. Her performance is only one of the many charms of Enchant- ment, but it is safe to assume that what numerous movie-goers will recall most viv- idly in this unforgettable film is the per- formance of this astonishingly competent little actress. Gigi Perreau appears in Enchantment for not much more than a dozen minutes. Dur- ing this short period, something very curi- ous happens on the screen. With no more than a few lines of dialogue to assist her, the young lady out-performs some extremely talented adult co-workers. Further, she establishes the mood of the picture — a mood so fragile that it could have been smashed by any lax moment of acting or direction. Despite her tender years, Gigi is already a veteran, having, appeared in 17 movies since her debut, at two, as Eve Curie as a child in Madame Curie. Enchantment may well make her a star. Enchantment, made from Rumer God- den's novel, "Take Three Tenses," is the sort of love story that could have been hopelessly mawkish if handled without good taste. As it happens, Enchantment has been 52 done superbly. This beautiful production shows everywhere loving care in its making. Irving Reis's direction is top-drawer. . John Patrick's script is practically flawless. The photography is remarkable. And, besides that of the aforementioned Miss Perreau, there are excellent performances by all con- cerned— especially by David Niven, who here achieves new stature, and by Jayne Meadows, who turns in one of the most frighteningly vivid portrayals of a vindic- tive woman in screen history. Enchantment, to sum up, is one of the most memorable motion pictures of recent years. On these pages, Modern Screen tells the story in pictures. 1. Told largely in flashbacks. Enchantment opens as Sir Roland Dane re- luctantly takes into his wartime London home his American qrand-niece, Grizel Dane (Evelyn Keyes), an ambulance driver. She wins his affection. 2. She reminds him of Lark. . . . He recalls that night in his childhood when he, his brother Pelham and his sister Selina met Lark (Gigi Perreau), the orphan his widowed father had adopted. Only Selina resented her. . . . 3. Grizel is completely unaware of all that has happened in the old house. Driving her ambulance, she meets wounded Canadian RAF officer Pax Mas- terson (Farley Granger). They are immediately attracted to each other. 'enchantment* 4. Soon Pax comes to the house. Grizel is surprised to find that Pax knows far more about the house than she — his aunt used to tell him about it when he was a small bov. Her name, he says, was Lark. . . . 5. Years before, as the children in the house grew up, the resentment of Selina for Lark deepened. By the time Lark was a lovely young woman (Teresa Wright), Selina (Jayne Meadows) was bitterly jealous. 8. Two years later, Rollo returned — and realized he was desperately in love with Lark. Selling his horse to get funds, he visited a pawn-broker (Melville Cooper) and chose a necklace for Lark to wear to a ball. 9. At the ball, a gay and splendid affair, Rollo wondered sadly to whom Lark's heart belonged as he watched her dancing with the Marchese — who had been urging her to marry him and live in Italy. 12. Lark, upset, went upstairs, leaving Rollo and Selina hotly discussing 13. Lark, at first refusing to believe this, waited all night. Then, leaving love vs. career. Rollo, deciding to resign, rushed off to do so. Selina a letter, she departed to accept the Marchese. Rollo was crushed on then went to Lark and lied to her that Rollo had left — for Afghanistan, his return. Pelham turned on Selina for the evil she had done. . '. . 6. When Roland — or Roilo, as ho was called — came home on leave as 7. After Rollo leff to rejoin his regiment, Lark began to bo paid great a young officer, he was struck by the beauty into which Lark had attention by Pelham (Philip Friend — left) and the Marchese del Laudi grown. Setina, realizing this, kept them apart as much as she could. (Shepperd Strudwick). Lark clearly soemed to favor the Marchese. 10. Eventually, late in the evening, Rollo succeeded in getting Lark II. Before the fire, Rollo and Lark declared their love. But Selina alone — and learned his fear that she had already committed herself entered to announce ihat, to further Rollo's career, she had used in- to another was groundless. Together, they went back to the house. fluence to get him ordered immediately to Afghanistan for five years. 14. Now Selina and Pelham and Lark are dead. Grizel, declaring she 15. So Grizel sets forth to find Pax as an air-raid begins. Finally, as prefers her independence, has sent Pax away. But Rollo — now Sir bombs crash about, they meet on a bridge. Sir Roland is killed — but Roland — urges her to "go after him, not to repeat unhappiness. Grizel and Pax will again fill the house with warmth and love. He got what he wanted The neighbors marveled at the quiet, the dog loafed on the lawn, even the trees seemed to put off growing. And Larry Parks waited for word of failure — or success. BY LOUIS POLLOCK 56 His studio battle over, Larry's ready to do Jolson Sings Again under his new five-year Columbia contract. Right: At home with wife Betty Garrett. ■ It was a quiet and not particularly happy home for more than a year. There was an attitude around it that the neighbors detected — an attitude of waiting for some- thing to happen . . . that somehow didn't happen. The young couple in it came and left quietly, greeting those they met the same way. The big red dog mooned around the yard, occasionally yowling as if he remembered when days were brighter around there and wished they would hurry and return. There were bald patches in the front lawn and the grass in the back wouldn't catch. Even a small new fig tree wouldn't take hold. Even the dog appeared to get dis- gusted with it — one morning he dug it up altogether and there wasn't a word out of his master when he came to drag it away to the rubbish heap. But then, suddenly something happened. A group of men sat down at a studio desk in the city not far away and put their signatures on a sheet of paper. That did it. You could tell the difference right away ... in all things. The holes in the lawn got an intensive going over and began disappearing forthwith. Whatever the defiant grass in the back needed to make it dig in with its roots was applied in generous manner ... a spread of green became apparent. Inside, in the master bedroom, there was set up a new Hollywood bed — a fourth wedding anniversary present from the young wife and husband to themselves. In the clothes closets were hung three new suits for him and a whole armful of additional wardrobe for her. On her vanity was placed that bottle of perfume that she'd asked for last Christmas and . . . well, he'd almost fainted at the price last Christmas when things looked black as far ahead as he could see. Yes, it was now a home busting out all over with good fortune. But that's only a part of what's going on in and around this little Hollywood house which stands at the beginning .of one of the Santa Monica Mountain canyons and is lived in by Larry Parks and his wife, Betty Garrett; by their Irish Setter, "Mister"; and by an average of two cats (there are actually three cats (Continued on page 80) 57 And how it's goodbye again for Clo and John Payne, these two who belong together, these two who are ever battling the strange forces that keep them apart . . . parting is such sorrow ■ Often when a guy and a gal fall madly in love and are obsessed with an overwhelming urge to become Mr. and Mrs. with as little delay as possible, they are oblivious to fundamental differences that, like hidden mines, are waiting to explode along their matrimonial road. This seems to be what happened to John Payne and Gloria De Haven. Twice after explosions they managed to pick themselves up and go back into each other's arms swearing to love forever. But the third time-it happened, the blow-up came with such devastating force that they haven't to date been able to get over the shock. I have talked to both of them and each has tried desperately to rationalize the emotions that brought them together and then tore them apart. I always feel pity for a man and wife who are trying to explain why they can't go on living together when their reasons are made up of little intangible things they really can't understand themselves, much less explain to the world. How can you explain a scornful glance, a tilting- of the head, a stony silence? But these are the things that so often add up to a broken marriage. "I think I shall always love and respect John," Gloria told me over a lunch table at the Strip's swank Players. "And I'm sure he is the best friend I'll ever have — if I needed advice or anything I'd call on him. But we just can't stay married on the terms that existed before. I tried it long enough to be convinced that it won't work." As she talked, I couldn't help thinking that she is still just (Continued on page 94) ■ Tony Martin and Cyd Charisse behave like a couple of honeymooners. They are. Fact is, their marriage has been one long series of honeymoons. The first one occurred, naturally enough, right after their wedding last May. They spent it in Monterey, California, and it lasted all of three days, for Cyd was called back to M-G-M to do her "Blue Room" number in Words and Music. In June, they flew to London. There they combined business with honeymooning while Tony was making the biggest hit ever scored by a singer at the Palladium, renowned variety theater. (They kept the guy on the stage two hours the opening night. Before he left London, one hears, they tried to give him Australia, but Tony had no place to keep it.) Next, the Martins popped over for a bit of honey- mooning in Germany, where they entertained the troops. After that they went to Paris for* ten days. Felt they needed a honeymoon. Then back to the U. S. via the Queen Mary — for, said they to themselves, what better place is there than a luxury liner for having a honeymoon? Well, there's Las Vegas, the stylish Nevada resort. So there they journeyed following Tony's carolling stint at Slapsie Maxie's, famed Los Angeles eatery and rumpus room. During their three-week Las Vegas sojourn, they stayed at the gold-plated Flamingo Hotel, where Tony nightly exercised his baritone fascinations on the clien- tele. (For further details on this colorful chapter, see the pictures to your right.) But all good things must come to an end and, far too soon, their honeymoon in Las Vegas was over. So bidding reluctant farewell to beautiful Las Vegas, Pearl of the West, they rode off into the sunset . . . Come to think of it, it must have been the sunrise, since they were headed for Detroit — and a glorious honey- moon. (Tony, you see, was singing at the Fox Theater there.) By this time, people were saying they were in love. The suspicion was confirmed when, a short time later, they showed up in Boston on their honey- moon. 60 After breakfasting each morning in the Flamingo dining-room, Tony and Cyd spent lazy hours in the sun, saving the evenings for win- dow shopping and wandering through colorful Las Vegas streets. Although no one could call them newly-weds of marriage, Cyd and Tony still engaged ii sessions. She has an important role in Metro's Words and Music fter seven months ong hand-holding emotion It's a lovely life if you can manage it, and Tony Martin and Cyd Charisse do — a life together in which fun goes on . . . and on ... in one honeymoon after another. Cyd and Tony took advantage of Tony's three-week singing engage- Tony, who can break 90 (if he's lucky), tried to give Cyd a few help- ment at the Flamingo to keep up their tans. They combined another ful hints. He helped her into the sand-trap — and here, with the honeymoon with this job — as they did when entertaining overseas. niblick's aid, he's trying to help her out. She lost nine balls. Cyd dragged Tony into a voice-recording booth and disrespectfully Tony did two shows nightly and scheduled his more throbbing bal- suggested he needed practice. He made a few discs to send to lads for the midnight show. Most special requests came from the her folks after she consented to record a couple of duets with him. ladies — but the men also kept the willing Martin working overtime. THE TEN GREAT MYTHS OF HOLLYWOOD (Continued from page 29) investment you can make at the start." It costs money to have Adrian or Howard Greer or Irene dress you but I'll never admit it's extravagant — not for a Hollywood star. You'll never catch canny Claudette Colbert or foxy Joan Fontaine meeting the people without the newest, latest or most expensive. Or Joan or Con- nie Bennett, Greer Garson, Roz Russell, Marlene Dietrich or Paulette Goddard. Paulette has a gorgeous diamond neck- lace which must have earned back the thousands it cost by now in building up the Goddard legend. Everyone I know is always drooling to know just where Paul- ette will hang her elegant sparkler next — around her neck, over her shoulder, cir- cling her waist or in her hair! But you'll never miss Paulette in a crowd. Yep, we're professional show-offs out here, let's face it. But that's not reckless extravagance; it's good business. You've got to live up to your illusion if you're a star. That's what's expected. Extrava- gance? Hollywood can't afford it! Now there's another favorite fable I'd like to see bite the dust. It's this: "All Hollywood parties are bacchanalian or- gies, riotous carnivals of wine, women and song." Ha! Hollywood parties are some- thing I know a thing or two about — I trot around to them practically every day. And I'll let you in on a letdown: In 20 years I've never been to one orgy. parties with a purpose . . . Today, any Hollywood party of any size is a party with a purpose. Either someone wants to entertain a visiting potentate and impress all his Hollywood pals, or some- thing is being launched — like a picture, or a new star — something where the big party check can bring returns either in prestige, publicity or good old box-office silver. Guests go to see and be seen. Con- tacts make Hollywood hum, just as they do an airplane motor. Now I ask you — what star in her right mind is going to get squiffed and fall on her pretty face when the eyes of Oppor- tunity are upon her? I know a girl who, not so long ago, hocked evei-ything she had to invest in a gorgeous Adrian eve- ning gown for a very special party like that. She gambled on meeting a certain producer there, dazzling him and getting a contract — and her gamble paid off. That party was her Big Chance — was she going to dull her wits for it? Hardly. Maria Montez couldn't have been more undiscovered and unknown when she first came to Hollywood, a little girl from Central America with screen ambitions. Maria dressed to kill and went to every party she was invited to. People saw the ravishing creature and buzzed, "Who is that lovely girl?" Maria knew producers would get ideas from those gasps. They did — and she won her Universal contract strictly by being seen around. Even if you're set and settled in the Hollywood heavens, is it reasonable to think you're going to risk a career and all that goes with it for a brief Roman holi- day? Big parties are spotlighted parades, complete with inquiring reporters and frank flash bulbs — and publicity can be bad, and bad publicity fatal. Waiters glftle around seeing all and telling most of it. Old smoldering enmities lie waiting for a foot to slip. Uh-uh — you couldn't ask for more decorum than you'll find at a grand Hollywood affair. Well, what about the small ones, where the hair comes tumbling down — or does it? 62 I like small Hollywood parties best my- self." You have a chance to talk, laugh and have some fun. But if I were a fly 6n the wall spying I'm afraid I'd fall off at last from dozing in disappointed boredom — that is, if I expected to see sensational goings-on. The wild goings-on, nine times out of ten, boil down to this: After cocktails and dinner, the men disappear to play poker and the women sit around and make like magpies. Those two Hollywood Babbitt habits have fizzled more than one affair that was planned to be grand. I've never seen Errol Flynn with his Irish so white hot as the night he threw a party in the patio around his big swim- ming pool. Errol was crazy about swim- ming then and he'd collected a host of professional swimmers and divers to put on a show for his guests. But when they came out to perform the guests wouldn't look. They were too busy jabbering and dishing the dirt among themselves. I admired Errol that night more th^n I ever had before or since, because he turned his back to his rude guests and stuck with his snubbed entertainers. But he was icy with anger and he never gave another party. Embarrassments, guests out of line, a tiddly guy or girl, flirtations and fights — sure they take place at Hollywood parties, and at parties all over the land. Doesn't that happen in Iuka, Illinois, too? If you're looking for champagne baths and scantied houris in my home town, you'll have to look closer than I can and there's nothing wrong with my eyes. If you hear of a good Hollywood orgy going on, will you let me know? I'd like to see one myself. Part of that lingering, old-fashioned "Horrible Hollywood" pipe dream brings up another cluster of cockeyed convic- tions that get a boost with banner head- lines ever so often. First — that stars are jaded and dissipated; they drink too much, play around too much, puff "reefers" like cookstoves and so sensationally forth. Hollywood has always been a set-up for scandal. I could write a book (and maybe I will) about the stream of shocking head- lines datelined "Hollywood," since the first studio opened its doors. Recently the Robert Mitch um marijuana incident has fanned the flames anew and there are "I told you so's" in all the smug sections of the world. The purple spectrum of the spotlight tints the whole town, unfairly. you II go overboard for esther williams on the february cover of modern screen on sale january 7 Sure, we have some drunks, some play^ boys, some irresponsible boys and girls here — but not for long. Fact is, they've got a better chance to last out a boozy existence anywhere but Hollywood. It costs too much here. The cardinal sin ol Hollywood is holding up production, and that's what you do sooner or later if you're really nursing a bottle. Faces and figures; easily fade and puff out of shape. The myth-buster is this: Hollywood isi! not a hard-drinking community. Actors*; shun drinks during the day like poison; they get sleepy. And they seldom drink; after dinner for the dread fear of a hang- over on the long set day. Hostesses con- sider soft drinks, tea and coffee as essen-P tial hospitality items instead of liquor — i if they're having successful, busy movie-; makers in. Now comes up the subject of romance and love life — and when were they ever Hollywood monopolies? But anyway, let's^ plant a few ghosts. Number one: Studios 1 dictate the love fives of their stars. Boy, how they wish they could! Did!? they order Greer Garson to marry Richard |< Ney or Esther Williams to be Ben Gage's,; loving wife? Nope, they frowned on those," as did Darryl Zanuck, quite fiercely, when his fresh girl star, Jeanne Crain, defied him and mama, too, to team up with her true love, Paul Brinkman. Warners didn't burst with pleased pride when their pres- tige star, Bette Davis, wed struggling painter William Grant Sherry, nor was 1 Harry Cohn at Columbia jumping with joy to see the Mad Genius, Orson Welles, = romp off with his meal ticket, Rita. Butt' love laughs at locksmiths — and iron clad picture contracts too. Not that the studios don't try. judy's double . . . I remember when Judy Garland was go- | ing with Dave Rose, her first husband, head over heels in love and planning to marry him. M-G-M didn't approve of that, either. (It's hard for any studio to watch a man step in and wean away an important young star. She has someone else to listen to then, besides her bosses.) Well, one night my telephone rang and it was a pub- licity man from Metro. He had some hot news for me: Judy Garland was at such and such a place that night dining and dancing with So-and-So — and it wasn't Dave Rose. "Interesting," I said, "if true." "But it is true. They're there." "Then Judy must be twins," I sighed, "because she's sitting right here at my dinner table holding hands with a guy named Dave Rose." Now, there's no myth whatever to the fact that studios plant publicity romances. You bet they do — always have and always will. And for a sound reason. I don't care how handsome a boy or how beautiful a girl starlet is, the photographers will pass them so fast they'll get pneumonia from the breeze unless the name means some- thing. That is, unless a popular star is hooked alongside. Nobody was too ex- cited about skater Sonja Henie, in a screen-star way, until she and Ty Power went stepping out to the night spots. It was a deliberate studio-inspired romance, and it helped launch a Number One box- office champion. M-G-M helped prove Van Johnson's appeal for the gals by framing his dates for a long time. Re- cently Peter Lawford had the time of his young life beauing famous stars here and there — and it didn't hurt his romantic ap- peal either. 1 You don't have to look farther than the Inearest column (maybe my own) to see band ^holding for headlines. It's an old Hollywood custom and it works. I'm as cynical as the next reporter, be- lieve me, but since Hollywood's my beat, |I happen to know that a lot of the spicy jjtules of the game in this particular dog- •feght for fame aren't rules — they're excep- tions. Take the age-old myth that a girl hhas to be a producer's sweetie if she wants hfto get anywhere. I ran into that one 'way (back when I was on Broadway; it's a fcoary old chestnut they tag on all theat- [ jrical and movie people. I I know a talented producer who fell jmadly in love with and married a young I dancer. He had a rush of belated romance to his usually intelligent head; through his rose-colored love he saw great ability in her. He starred her in a picture, and he lusually turned out nothing but distin- Iguished films. The only flop worse than 'this one was the flop of his lady love: she jwas awful. They're still married, but she's !not in pictures. I don't mean to imply that having a | producer for a boy friend is the kiss of I death for a star. Hardly. I just mean that lit has nothing to do with solid success on I the screen. Lizabeth Scott got her first break through Producer Hal Wallis, but Lizabeth had good looks that would have got her there anyway, and she's loaded with ambition and drive. Jennifer Jones is about to marry her boss, David Selz- nick, but he didn't make her a star — Darryl Zanuck did. Do you think Joan Bennett needed career insurance when i she married Walter Wanger, or Joan Fon- taine when she wed Bill Dozier, her pro- ducer-spouse? Don't be absurd. Do you think Roz Russell was hunting more and better picture parts by marrying Fred Brisson, her manager? Don't be silly. You win acting fame and fortune in Hollywood because .you have the spark, the ambition, the ability — and since the town began, producers have helped un- earth that, develop it, exploit it — that's their business. You don't ever get to the top or stick there by making goo-goo eyes. another myth exploded . . . A first mythical cousin of that florid Hollywood fiction is that stars must "play politics." Well — who doesn't play politics? You play politics if you work in the dime store, belong to the Parent-Teachers Asso- ciation or the Ladies' Bridge Club. Play- ing politics is just another phrase for spreading your personality around, mak- ing friends, getting somewhere with people like yourself. I play politics every day; so, IH bet, do you. The Hollywood implication is that stars have to court favors and knuckle under, wallow fever- ishly in a hotbed of intrigue to keep on the screen. Bosh! The answer to that bogey is easy: you don't if you're big enough. Ingrid Berg- man has had nothing but the best parts, best directors, best cameramen, best everything since she first set foot in Hol- lywood. She wouldn't know how to cam- paign if she had to. Jean Arthur has al- ways done as she pleased, even to staying off the screen and going to college smack in the middle of her career. She isn't glamorous, she isn't social, in fact, she's down right anti at times. I had to fight my way through frightened Paramount press agents to reach her dressing room and interview her when she made A For- eign Affair. People give Jean a wide berth and vice versa. Yet every studio in town is hunting a script for her after that picture. Why? She's good. Betty Grable doesn't toss and turn wor- rying about her popularity graph in the directors' room at Twentieth-Fox these days because she's the gal who pays the dividends. But Betty trotted obediently to the Paramount gallery for several straight years and did nothing but what they told her; to wit, strip to a one-piece bathing suit and pose for leg art. If you're just starting out, you have to conform to the pattern. Every youngster who has come up unknown through the Hollywood mill has done what the rest did, what they were told to do: fashions, leg art, ad en- dorsements, publicity dates, "queens" of this and that corny festival and what not It's the ordeal of Hollywood's knighthood. I talked to an anxious girl on her 18th birthday once a few years ago. I met her at the late Evalyn Walsh McLean's house. Sir Charles Mendl introduced us saying, "Hedda, this young lady's going to be a screen star." The girl gave me a level look, "What do you think?" she said. "I think 'Yes' — if you can act," I said. She said she could handle that she was sure, but what worried her was all the Hollywood monkey-business she'd heard about. "I'm not going to pose in any bath- ing suit" she told me. "I'm not going to do a lot of things like that. I'm kind of stubborn." I noted the firm lower Up. "Work hard and tend to your knitting," was the best brief advice I could give her. Well, she still hasn't posed in a bathing suit and she's still around and doing very nicely. Her name's Lauren Bacall. It's so easy to make out the producers, the bosses of Hollywood, heavies — because stars are the heros in the limelight and there's a natural tug-of-war between them But I'm pretty bored myself with the persistent picture of all producers as illiterate dumbells with I.Q.'s of minus zero. Fact is, the big bosses of the movies to- day are the people who made Hollywood what it is, made jobs for the stars, built a mammoth industry from scratch and took a big gamble that bankers wouldn't take. In my book they deserve their winnings. Look at the Warner brothers. It took real vision — and guts — to pioneer the talking picture and revolutionize the industry that they had been leaders in building up from scratch. And again, the Warners were far ahead of their time when, two years be- fore Hitler plunged the world into war, they made Confessions of a Nazi Spy. That, too, was an example of clear-eyed intelligence and — in view of the then-still- asleep state of the Union — courage. It used to be a popular pastime to guf- faw at Sam Goldwyn's twisted figures of speech (no one enjoys seeing them printed more than Sam himself) but Sam has fought stubbornly for the highest type of pictures since he first stacked his shrewd judgment against long odds. He makes only one picture a year, but if it doesn't win an Academy Award, it's generally a candidate. And if it's not right the first time, he'll toss it all in the cutting can and start over and over until it is right. Halfway through The Bishop's Wife, Sam wasn't satisfied. He changed writers and directors and started over. It cost him $900,000 but he made himself a picture. That, say I, is being dumb like a fox. Is it a moronic sign when Louis B. Mayer makes the highest salary of any one in the high-salaried U.S.A. for heaven knows how many years? Okay, so it's only money — but money is a vast power and, by and large, Hollywood's producers have no apologies to make about how they've used it Louis B. is a philanthropist and prime mover in many charities and civic campaigns. So are the Warners, each of whom put away a $5,- 000,000 trust fund when they struck it rich with talking pictures. Far from being dumb and provincial, Jack Warner, Darryl Zanuck, Louis B. Mayer, Sam Goldwyn, Henry Ginsberg, Howard Hughes and dozens more like them are cosmopolites who get around and know a darned sight more than the box- office returns on their movies. Do you think Archbishop Spellman, General Mark Clark and General Hap Arnold, who, like many other prominent world figures, are close friends of Louis B. Mayer, Darryl Zanuck and Jack Warner respectively, would waste their time on nitwits? Take it from me, the dumb, bumbling Holly- wood producer is an extinct vaudeville character. Forget him. There are a couple more spooks I'd like to banish with a quick uppercut in pass- ing. One, that all kid stars are spoiled brats and precocious pains in the neck. This notion is almost too silly to deny. What any kid is you can trace right to his parents, anywhere. For example, the greatest child star of all, Shirley Temple, (Continued on page 73) MODERN SCREEN 63 VOUR BUDGET MID VOU START THE '}&/■; REUI VERR RIGHT! Mjv> Nome «ty v^,^ Wd.cin, CO O. •» Q Check q Money Order □ C.O.D. Send check or money order ond we'll pay pottage fashion resolutions for 1949 CONNIE B ARTEL, FASHION EDITOR ■ Who can tear the last crumbled page off the calendar, without making vows for the crisp new one coming up? Certainly not Modern Screen's Fashion Department ! Here we are chock full of resolutions for the new year — and most of them are' about you ! Our chief resolve is to stretch your fashion dollar farther than ever. As you know, we've always been a champion of high style at low prices. But now, with the high-cost-of-living taking bigger and bigger bites out of your budget for just plain necessities, how are you going to afford the pretties that every girl needs for her morale ? Good question ! For 1949, we resolve to help you find the answer. So we begin the new year with a group, of winter cottons with tremendous appeal and tiny pricetags. Did you know winter cottons are absolutely" it in the fashion world? They are. Of course, everyone has always doted on cottons for summer. Then there is the annual mid-winter fuss about cottons for the swanky resorts. On top of that, more and more girls have got into the habit of snapping up cot- tons in winter, and hoarding them for vaca- tions much later. Now the fashion designers have suddenly decided to relax and enjoy it. Since everyone is so crazy about cottons so much of the time, they've decided to design them for all year round. The new winter versions are intended to be worn under your coat— and of course they're always cute and fresh at home. We've picked five for you, beginning on page 66. jane greer gets set for auld lang syne ■ , Jane Greer, who is currently starring in RKO's Station West, swishes around putting the finishing touches on her New Year's Eve decorations — wearing a dreamboat of a housecoat. It's yellow printed cotton with a ruffled yoke edged in black, a deep hem flounce, and the world's tiniest bustle in back (you can see back view on page 71). And it zips to fit. It's the kind of glamorous get-up you'd love to have unexpected guests catch you in — and the kind of Christmas gift your best friend would love to get! Comes also in blue or red. Sizes 12-20. By Lazy Day, $5.95. For where to buy see page 71. modern screen fashions Winter cottons are the big news — cottons to wear under your coat! The one leaving New York's swanky Park Avenue Theater is one-piece with checked top, black skirt, gold buttons and belt. You can also have it in red. Sizes 9-15. By Monte Carlo Fashions. $2.98. For where to buy see page 71 movie date 66 cottons Waiting for tickets to Laurence Olivier's Hamlet, a one-piece winter cotton with weskit front and ruffled hem. In Dan River's Starspun plaid. Red and grey or blue and brown. Sizes 9-15. By Jean Leslie. $5.95. For where to buy see page 71 67 a modern screen fashion date at home cottons above: A fellow appreciates being invited to sit around your living room once in a while — especially when you look your prettiest in a bright at-home frock! This button- to-the-hem sweetheart is Sanforized cotton in silky tones of green, grey, navy or brown with contrasting trim. Sizes 14-20; also 40-42. By Rose Lee Frocks. $3.98. right: Never underestimate the power of the sweet and feminine look — it works ! He's obviously taken with this crisp striped cotton with gay red border, curved neckline and cap sleeves. And see how date-ish it looks with jewelry! Red, blue or green border. The stripes are multicolored. Sizes 9-15. By Junior Clique. $6.9S. For where to buy, see page 7 1 cotton How to look like a fashion model : make sure your shoulder: are round and sloping — and that your collar stands high to frame your pearls! The dress is grey Sanforized chambray with stripes in your choice of green, yellow, raspberry 01 cocoa. Sizes 12-20. By Kay Whitney. About $8.95. For where to buy, see page 71 70 WHERE YOU CAN BUY MODERN SCREEN FASHIONS (Prices on merchandise may vary throughout country) Back view of housecoat worn by Jane Greer (page 65) Printed housecoat with deep hem flounce worn by Jane Greer (page 65) Brooklyn, N. Y. — Abraham & Straus, 420 Fulton St., Downstairs Columbus, Ohio — F. & R. Lazarus & Co., High & Town Sts., Front St. Level. Checked top one-piece dress with black skirt (page 66) New York, N. Y.—Hearn's, 5th Ave. & 14th St., 2nd Fl. Plaid dress with ruffled hem (page 67) Columbus, Ohio — F. & R. Lazarus & Co., High & Town Sts., Front St. Level Minneapolis, Minn. — L. S. Donaldson Co., 601 Nicollet Ave., Downstairs Button-to-the-hem dress with contrast trim (page 68) Hartford, Conn— G. Fox & Co., 960 Main St. New York, N. Y. — Macy's, Herald Square, 2nd Fl. Striped dress with curved neckline, cap sleeves (page 69) Buffalo, N. Y. — J. N. Adam Co., 383 Main St. New York, N. Y. — Stem's, 41 W. 42nd St., 3rd Fl. Washington, D. C. — Woodward & Lo- throp, 10th & G Sts., 2nd Fl., N. Bldg. Grey striped ehambray dress with high .standing collar, sloping shoulders (page 70) Boston, Mass. — Filene's, Washington St., 6th Fl. Dallas, Tex.— Green's, 1616 Elm St., 7th Fl. Des Moines, la. — Younkers, 701 Walnut St., 1st Fl. St. Louis, Mo. — Famous-Barr Co., Lo- cust, Olive & 6th Sts., 5th Fl. HOW TO ORDER MODERN SCREEN FASHIONS 1. Buy in person from stores listed. 2. Order by mail from stores listed. 3. Write Connie Bartel, Modern Screen, Box 125, Murray Hill Station, New York 16, N. Y., for store in your vicinity. ^JMMMMNGSrMEEN STAR., JOAN BENNETT* 9AYS... Try her method for just 3 days. . .'a 12-second hand massage with non- sticky, non- greasy morning . . . night . . . whenever hands are rough or chapped. TRY IT yourself ... the hand beauty secret of so many Hollywood stars. Massage your hands with snowy, fragrant Pacquins for just 12 seconds . . . night . . . morning . . . whenever skin needs soften- ing. You'll see why Pacquins is the largest- selling band cream in the world! If household tasks roughen your hands, smooth them, soothe them with Pacquins. For truly dream hands, do as Joan Bennett does . . . cream, cream, CREAM them regularly— with Pacquins! Among the famous afar* who use Pacquins are: GERTRUDE LAWRENCE • LYNN FONTANNE • VERA ZORINA GLADYS SWARTHOVT • RISE STEVENS ElKtlfTI WllllMSIM.IL. s»ys: "We nurses scrub our hands 30 to 40 times a day. Pacquins was made for us. I use it faithfully. Pacquins was originally formulated for nurses and doctors." %>/; ON SALE AT ALL COSMITIC COUNTERS IN UNITED STATES AND CANADA 71 THE TEN GREAT MYTHS OF HOLLYWOOD (Continued from page 63) had the guidance of parents with good taste, good sense and a determination not to let Shirley's fame spoil her precious child years. Shirley was always, and still is, a joy to be around. Her kiddie rival, Jane Withers, had the same normal, lov- in.g care. Both have grown into fine young women, happily married not for their glamor or riches but for their love. Both are new mothers of darling baby girls. And look at Elizabeth Taylor and Peggy Ann Garner and Lois Butler and Roddy McDowall and Margaret O'Brien. All of them nice, balanced youngsters. And there are dozens more. Another spook I'd like to lay is the old Hollywood divorce indictment: that all stars shed their husbands and wives with the seasons. Well, for every divorce-happy star you can find a Bob Hope, a Bing Crosby, or a Jeanette MacDonald who's never told it to the judge. As with so many other things in Hollywood, divorces just make more noise when- they happen out here. one more murder . . , I've got one last made-in-Hollywood myth to murder — one nourished, oddly enough, by my star friends who no more mean what they say than the man in the moon. That is: all Hollywood stars hate Hollywood and pine to get the heck out — like back to the Broadway boards. Nuts! Some years ago I made a bet with a dark young man burning with zeal for the legitimate drama. He'd just come to Hol- lywood and John Garfield told me, "In six months I'm going back and do a play." "Want to bet?" I challenged. He said yes, so we shook. I won. John didn't go back for more than six years, he didn't depart our shores until he was well padded with Hollywood money, security and fame., I've heard Joan Crawford, Bette Davis, Doug Fair- banks, Bob Montgomery and Ray Milland all sigh for "the real thing" — but a sigh is just a sigh. The simple truth is that since the world began there has never been such a para- dise for actors as Hollywood, and the smart ones know it. Let's admit it — the living's easy in Hol- lywood, with a way of life a stage actor never dares dream about — Palm Springs, Carmel, Sun Valley, leisure between pic- tures for recreation and the outdoors — most of all a real home. The first Lady of the Theater, Ethel Barrymore, moved out to Hollywood a while back. I don't know how many years of top trouping Ethel has behind her but plenty — years of trunk living, train catch- ing, making the show go on in the glorious but grinding tradition. I saw her not long ago and she said she was here in Hollywood this time for keeps. "I never knew what life offered an actor out here before," she marvelled. "I have my home, my family, my friends, my leisure and still my work . . ." The great Barrymore on her quick trips before never really believed such a thing was possible. But Hollywood makes it so. Yes, there are plenty of mighty myths about this storied town called Hollywood. But when you look sharp they pop, go "Pouf!" and drift away in an unsubstantial mist. What you see, I'm afraid, when all the hip-hooray and ballyhoo is gone, is a town not too dazzlingly different from your own. The End "DISGUISE" Pot - J41UU flivver Ofe Co"e lUt. '•mqV,° IS. condoled by - -1 Ctasp Hew front forked S««P front and Bock lubber BRASSIERES Lvivrlovt ■ SATIN | In White. . Black and ' Tea-rote ■ ' %\w: \ 32. 33, 34. 35. 36 » HEDY OF HOLLYWOOD 6253 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood 28, Calif. .00 aT***^ ,«loi cho.ee. — 1 " lone — - — . i«hd>A9 Yes, you. 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This roller works ~~ on the same principle as the roller machinery used in ~~ many beauty salons. When rolled gently, it soothes tired, tense muscles, providing an effective body massage. Mailed anywhere — postpaid, $5.00. No. C.O.D.'s please. = THE SLENDAROL COMPANY BOX B8, STATION A • FLUSHING, N. Y. 73 SHE'S A BIG GIRL NOW (Continued from page 51) "Well, you do have to be pretty stream- lined— " "Mr. Plunkett, don't you know that ladies have hips?" "Miss Taylor, don't you know that ladies with hips don't wear pedal-pushers?" She thought that one over, and laughed. "You've just done me the most wonderful favor, Mr. Plunkett. Now Mommy'll have to buy me an entirely new wardrobe." Yes, Elizabeth's a big girl now — 16-going- on-17 — and oh, what a difference one year can make! At 15, she was dazzled by the glory of lipstick, so that I had to go tagging her with a tissue: "Blot it down a little, Elizabeth." Suddenly, of her own sweet will, the rainbow reds vanished. Now it's pale pink lipstick and nail polish to match the ribbon round her hair. At 15, she craved black formals and off -the -shoulder blouses. Which didn't bother me especially. People would say: "Don't let Elizabeth change." Then they'd see her in one of these little Mexican numbers, and sigh: "There she goes." not so different . . . Being little different from any other high- school girl in any other town, she was going nowhere except through the same phase. As she pointed out accurately enough: "Everyone was wearing them long before I was allowed to." Now she doesn't even like them any more. Her taste has grown so much more conservative this past year, that I now let her choose her own clothes. Oh, of course I go along, because she likes to have me. It's fun. But she in- variably picks the kind of thing I'd pick for her myself. She's passed through the spectacular period, and likes simple clothes. The cry used to be: "I want to look older." At 17, she's content to look her age. I'm not saying she doesn't have her lapses — who of us ever grew up over- night? But the lapses don't really bother me either. If you want the truth, I find them rather consoling, since they're all that's left of the little Elizabeth. Take Elizabeth and jewelry. She loves to bedeck herself in pearls and earrings. Or wait — with my ringers crossed, I'll change that to the past tense. I think Eliz- abeth's been cured the hard way. In any case, it was the hard way for me. Never will I forget that night at the Players Club. Once a year they have Ladies' Night. As my husband's a member we'd taken a table for 12, and told Elizabeth and her brother Howard they could each invite a date. My mistake was in leaving home before she was dressed, but as hostess I had to be early. She was planning to wear what she calls her Young Bess dress — that's the part of all parts she wants to play, and the dress re- minded her of the period — gray, with gold rope 'round the neck, and a little bustle. It had come home from the cleaners with the bustle awry, and I left Elizabeth frantically trying to fix it, and her hair not done yet. Our guests arrived. Howard arrived with his date. We waited and waited and waited, till finally someone said: "There's Eliza- beth!" I looked up — and gasped. There was Elizabeth indeed! Hair piled on top of her head, plus two false braids that she'd worn in a picture, and false bangs that all but grazed her brows. Not only that. Ropes of pearls twined through the braids, more ropes dangling from her neck, and earrings that dripped pearls. Somewhere in all this welter, a couple of orchids. Her date, Tommy Breen, had brought her two. She was wearing both. First I wanted to cry, then laugh, then I 74 felt sick all over lest somebody else should laugh and hurt her, which I couldn't have borne — she was obviously feeling so grac- ious and elegant — so unconscious of any- thing wrong. Then — Mack Sennett couldn't have timed it better — came the crowning touch. As she walked up to greet our guests, one side of her bustle slowly de- flated. I'll never stop being grateful to those people. They must have been suffo- cating with laughter — I was myself, along with other emotions — yet there wasn't a sign from anybody, bless them, that Eliza- beth didn't look the way she felt. Next day I tackled it. "Honey, do you know you were very overdressed last night?" She couldn't have been more astonished. "D'you really think so?" "Well, stop and remember all the things you had on. Just the gold rope on your dress and plain button earrings and may- be one orchid would have been lovely. But all that false hair and those ropes of pearls! It wasn't very good taste." We talked it over, and she saw my point. The pearls are less in evidence than they were, and I don't mind telling the story now, because she tells it herself and laughs about it. You can always talk things over with Elizabeth. She'll never go sulky or rebellious on you. Oh, she'll protest at times and try to get round you — I wouldn't give two cents for the girl who didn't — but when you explain, she listens. And when mother and daughter can discuss things reasonably, it's a wonderful protection. Only I think you have to build for such a relationship — it doesn't happen by chance. My mother and I were very close, and I made up my mind, if I had a little girl of my own, that I'd try to be just as close to her — not a prying closeness but an under- standing one. As a child, for example, Eliz- abeth adored pets and wanted a lot of them all over the house. From one viewpoint, they might have been considered a nui- sance. Instead of taking that view, I en- joyed the pets with her. It's a question of putting yourself in their shoes. Make a great gulf, and naturally they're going to be on the other side. Not that I don't believe in discipline. There's got to be a certain amount of it in MODERN SCREEN "He's a former bus driver, keeps putting everybody in the rear." the early days, so they'll know you won't take any back-talk. Apart from that, I've always shown my children the same cour- tesy I expect from them. I've never grabbed Elizabeth, nor corrected her in front of others. I've tried never to harm her dignity as an individual. If anyone comes to me with a complaint, I don't pre- judge. "I've heard so-and-so's side of the story, Elizabeth, now give me yours" — and I do my best to be fair to both sides. I don't mean to set myself up as a child psychologist — only to indicate that I feel my daughter trusts me. What pleases me beyond measure is that she tells me all the things a lot of girls tell their girl friends — about boys and dates and what happened at the party down to the smallest detail. She loves to gab, and of course I love to listen. I do not sit up for her. A vision of Mother - watching-the-clock never helped a girl's evening. But she comes in and wakes me, because tomorrow's not soon enough to get that load of excitement off her chest. When she's working, she goes out only on Saturday night. Even when she's not, I don't like her to. be out late two or three nights running. That you have to govern for her health's sake. But I'm not inflex- ible. When Glenn Davis was in town, Elizabeth met him through Doris and Hubie Kerns, who work at M-G-M. He spent a day with us down at Malibu. One after- noon came this phone call. Could Elizabeth attend the exhibition game as Glenn's guest? Well, she was working next day, but I couldn't say no, I couldn't do that to Eliz- abeth. She went with the Kerns and sat in Glenn's box, and when she got home that night, her eyes were like stars. so proud . . . I'd told her to be in by 12: 30, and it was one o'clock, but there again I'm willing to listen to reason. It seemed that practically every time Glenn walked out on the field, he made a touchdown, and after the game people went crazy, crowding around him, so that he couldn't get within 10 feet of Elizabeth. "I felt so proud," she said softly. "You know what I wanted to do? I wanted to shout, 'I'm with Davis, I'm with Davis!' " When he finally did get through and took her arm, nobody recognized Elizabeth. But one of the boys yelled, "When you pick a girl, Glenn, you pick a beaut!" There's a night Elizabeth will remember all her life. In my book, it was worth the loss of a few hours' sleep. I know that Elizabeth likes Glenn more than any boy she has ever known, and as a matter of fact, we all do. We could not possibly like or approve him more. She is wearing his gold football, and is so proud of it that she has not taken it off since Glenn fastened it around her neck on a little gold chain just before he left for Korea. The other day Elizabeth was showing it to a columnist on the set, and he said, "When I was your age it was considered really serious when a girl wore a boy's football!" "It was?" said Elizabeth, with a twinkle in her eye. "Well, times haven't changed much, have they?" Now Elizabeth won't make dates with any boys until she has told them about Glenn and the football. I have never seen her so happy — really happy — and she is living for the day when he will return from his as- signment with the Army. Elizabeth has always kept her friends — she still goes out with the kids she knew at school — likes the feeling of old days and (Continued on page 76) new faces betty garrett is Larry Parks' better half but she got to be famous before anyone ever heard of him. A legit- imate stage actress, she made her debut with Orson Welles' Mercury Theater. She was born in St. Joseph, Mo., in 1917 and met Larry at the Actors Lab. in Hollywood. They were married in 1944 and both like to collect all kinds of real and fake cats. You'll see her in Take Me Out to the Ballgame. donald buka heard that Lunt and Fon- tanne were going to appear in Pittsburgh and sent them a note asking if he could come and read for them. Not only did they like him, but he was immediately offered a job. Later on, Donald made his screen debut with Bette Davis in Watch on the Rhine and has been active in radio, too. Cleveland-born (in 1921 ), Donald is 5' 10" and has brown hair and eyes. Besides Street With No Name, he's in Vendetta. He's a bachelor. RON RANDELL W h 0 m you saw in The Mat- ing of Millie, hails from Sydney, Aus- tralia. He decided on an acting career early in his youth, when he noticed, miners tossing pouches of gold at some actors in a stage show. He made his legitimate stage debut in 1938. Later, Ron appeared in My Sister Eileen and Voice of the Turtle. He's now under contract to Columbia. Ron has brown hair and eyes, weighs 165 pounds, stands 5 feet 10. He is unmarried. joanne dru-s theat- rical career actually started when she was three years old! Joanne used to enter- tain the townfolk of Logan, West Virginia, from the ticket booth of the local theater while her parents enjoyed the show. Now, at 25, Joanne is married to Dick Haymes and is the mother of three children, Skip- per, 7; Pidgeon, 4, and baby Barbara, or "Nugget." Although Joanne had been in retirement since her marriage to Dick she has been very actively studying dra- matics. Jn July of 1945 Howard Hawks recognized a coming 'star and put her under contract. After intensive training Hawks loaned her to Bing Crosby for Abie's Irish Rose. You'll see her in United Artists' Red River. 3efere your daughter marries., should you tell her BY ALL MEANS! And here is scientific up-to-date information You Can Trust — The time to speak frankly to your daughter is before she marries. She should be fully informed on how im- portant vaginal douching two or three times a week often is to feminine clean- liness, her health, marriage happiness, to combat odor, and always after men- strual periods. And she should be made to realize that no other type liquid antiseptic- germicide tested for the douche is so powerful yet so safe to tissues as modern zonite! Warns Girls Against Weak or Dangerous Products How unfortunate is the young woman who, through ignorant advice of friends, uses such 'kitchen makeshifts' as vine- gar, salt or soda. These are not germi- cides in the douche! They never can give the great germicidal and deodoriz- ing action of zonite. 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For amazing enlightening new Booklet containing frank discussion of intimate physical facts, recently published — mail this coupon to Zonite Products, Dept. MR-19, 370 Lexington Ave., New York 17, N. Y. Nome Address- State- (Continued from page 74) old companionships. Once she met a new boy she liked, and I suggested she ask him to one of our Malibu parties. "No, I'd rather invite someone I know. It's so much easier to be with people you know well." One rule remains the same. She doesn't go out with boys unless we know them. We ask her new friends to dinner, and they seem to enjoy the feeling of being part of the family. If the boys can't get Elizabeth on the phone, they'll tell me what they want to ask her. By that time you're all friends, and everything's on a good basis. The ad- vantages seem to me obvious. To mention just one, you can always explain to the boys that Elizabeth has to be in by a cer- tain hour. If they understand — and they do, when you're friends — they'll accept the responsibility, which saves Elizabeth the embarrassment of asking every few minutes like a little girl: "What time is it? I have to go home." Elizabeth doesn't go to night clubs. A favorite evening with the young folks is dinner at the Scandia and dancing at the Cocoanut Grove, which caters to teen- agers. There's no cover charge, there's a soft-drink bar, the music is always good, and it doesn't cost the boys a small fortune. mob scene . . . On Sundays the crowd collects at Malibu. In fact, they start collecting Saturday night. Elizabeth and a girl friend take over Daddy's room, which has twin beds, and he comes in with me. I never know how many there'll be, and I don't care. One morning I woke to find five pairs of feet sticking out of sleeping bags on the porch under my balcony. Howard had two boys in his room, two more were on the big couch in the liv- ing room, and another snoozed peacefully in the back seat of our Buick. Only when there's a gang like that for breakfast, I an- nounce to the boys that they'll have dishes to wash, and send the girls upstairs to make the beds. By trial and error, I've discovered it's best to separate them at their labors. Fewer dishes get broken, and they spend less time clipping tea towels at each other. All day they're in and out of the water, riding these rubber lifeboats and eating hot dogs on the stand for lunch. By 6:30 a buffet supper's on the table, then it's charades and guessing games for the rest of the evening. I've often been asked: "But don't the youngsters want to get off by themselves to play records and dance?" Apparently not. They have other evenings for dancing, and our Sunday parties seem to suit them down to the ground. Maybe it's because we've always done things as a family, never excluded the children from our adult parties, never thrown up a bar- rier. They enjoy our friends, feel a sense of comradeship with them, call them by their first names — none of this aunt and uncle business. From the way we act, there's no apparent difference in age. And if you could see the hilarity that goes on, you'd agree it would sound pretty pointless to cut in and ask: "Wouldn't you kids rather be doing something else?" I hesitate to plunge into print on the sub- ject of my daughter's looks. It smacks of the indelicate. But another question that's put to me constantly is whether Elizabeth realizes how pretty she is. So let me an- swer it now once and for all. I can best begin by telling you what hap- pened when a magazine man came to interview her. "I think you're the most beautiful girl in the world," he said with- out more ado. "How does it feel?" She was utterly taken aback. Flushed to the roots of her hair, turned to me with a kind of helpless little look, and finally came out with: "People say that to everyone." "Now, wait a minute. When you look in 76 the mirror, you must see what we all see." sweet and hot by leonard feather * 'Highly Recommended * Recommended No Stars: Average FROM THE MOVIES KISSING BANDIT — What's Wrong With Me; Love is Where You Find It:- *Kathryn Grayson (MGM). Senorita; If I Steal a Kiss: *Johnnie Johnston (MGM). Siesta: Jack Fina (MGM). Maybe it's more than a coincidence that Johnnie Johnston and Mrs. J. (Kathryn Grayson), both MGM Records stars, have both recorded songs -from Kathryn's new picture. They didn't cut any together, however. Best side is Senorita, on which Johnnie might well be singing to his spouse. NIGHT HAS A THOUSAND EYES — Title Song: *Eddie Heywood (Victor). SO DEAR TO MY HEART— Title song: *Peggy Lee (Capitol); Dinah Shore (Columbia); Freddy Martin (Victor). It's Whatcha Do with Whatcha Got: Pied Pipers (Capitol); *Gene Krupa (Columbia); Freddy Mar- tin (Victor). WHEN MY BABY SMILES AT ME -What Did I Do: Harry James (Columbia). POPULAR PEARL BAILEY— *Say It Simple (Columbia). FRANKIE CARLE— * Roses In Rhythm Album (Co- lumbia). FRANK SINATRA— **Album of Christmas Songs ( Columbia ) . Aided by the Ken Lane singers, Frankie makes this the best of a flood of Christ- mas releases. JAZZ COUNT BASIE— *Just a Minute (Victor). BLUE RHYTHM BAND — B I u e Rhythm Bebop (MGM). Good solos by Charlie Shavers' trumpet and Lucky Thompson's tenor sax, but the arrangement's not authentic bebop. DUKE ELLINGTON— *Suddenly It Jumped (Vic- tor). WOODY HERMAN — **Four Brothers (Columbia) Sensational solos by four sax stars and a terrific, swinging bop arrangement. One of the year's greatest jazz sides. RED NORVO— *Bop! (Capitol). Yes, Red's another swing veteran who's come out for the New Look in jazz. This all-star group features some of the finest and most neglected bop stars in Holly- wood. Why doesn't some smart movie producer forget those all-star bands and feature a far cheaper, musically outstand- ing outfit like this? "All I see," said Elizabeth, "is another face to put lipstick on." And that was the last word he could get out of her till he changed the subject. I'm sure she's as conscious of her ap- pearance as any personable girl — neither more nor less. But in some remote way she feels it has nothing to do with herself, and direct compliments upset her. Recently she said to me: "Mother, you know when it'll be wonderful? When I get good parts, and they say I was good in the parts, not just how pretty I was. If you feel you've done a job well, then you've sort of earned the praise and it means something. But I didn't make my face." (Editor's Note: While I was reading this, Van Heflin dropped by the office and we got to talking about Elizabeth Taylor. A dreamy look came in his eyes. "Elizabeth," he said softly, "has the face of an angel, and a figure that's — well, it's just out of this world.") On two counts, our big Elizabeth hasn't changed. She's still untidy. She still takes her clothes off and tosses them on a chair. Fifteen thousand times I've said: "Hang them up, Elizabeth," and she hangs them up like a lamb, but not till she's told. I used to tack notes on the door to remind her — till the door got so full of holes it looked wormeaten. Her room's never in order ex- cept for half an hour after the maid's straightened it. Ever since she was born, I've been telling her, but it still doesn't seem to occur to Elizabeth to tidy her room. Under other conditions, I'd be more insis- tent. But with everything else she has to do, I can't keep on nagging — life would be unbearable. Besides, it's a pet theory of mine that most girls need a certain amount of time just to do nothing. When Elizabeth comes home from the studio, I'd so like her to get her makeup off right away. She'd rather stretch out on the bed and relax. After working all day, of course, you just want to let go. I'd rather stretch out on the bed myself, so I make allowances for Elizabeth. And she's still a dreamer — time still slips away from her. I remember discussing this a year or so ago in Modern Screen, and get- ting suggestions from several mothers who'd gone through the same thing with their own daughters. I'd like to thank them for their kindness in writing, and tell them regretfully that so far nothing has worked. The day could be 40 hours long, and it still wouldn't be long enough for Elizabeth. Never have I known her to be on time for a date. One Sunday a boy was to pick her up at 2: 30 to go to a party. At 2: 30 she was still on the beach in her bathing suit. I'd grown tired of reminding her, and decided to let matters take their course. When her date arrived, I caught a glimpse of Elizabeth scooting up the back- stairs. Maybe, I thought, this can be an object lesson. "I wish you'd be very firm with her," I said to the boy, "and let her know you don't like her being late." "Okay," he said with a smile, "I sure will " "In about 15 minutes or so, call up and tell her you're in a hurry." I allowed 20 minutes, and went back to the living room. He was reading a book. "Are you being firm?" He grinned." What do you think?" can't stay mad . . . The trouble is, it's hard to stay cross with Elizabeth. She's always so sorry- — so sin- cerely sorry. "I just don't know what hap- pens to the time," she'll say. Or she'll come down kidding and clowning, and that's the end of it. Even as a child, she was a natural comedian. You'd go to punish her, and she'd do something to make you laugh, and you'd wind up not punishing her. If we scolded her brother, she'd pull the same stunt. Those two stick together like peas in a pod. If I'm ever annoyed with either, they'll alibi and make excuses for each other. I may be right all the way through, but in Elizabeth's eyes Howard is always right. And as far as he's concerned, she can do no wrong. Basically, this pleases me, however irksome I may find it at the mo- ment. But here's a final confession and a flat inconsistency, and heaven help me if my daughter reads it. In spite of all my plaints, I hope she can keep her dream world yet for a while. The day will come soon enough when she'll have to be big enough to read a clock. But right now, this is such a lovely time for Elizabeth. The End your letters... WILDE OVER POWER Dear Editor: In your November article, "Why Stars Fight Their Bosses," Hedda Hopper states that Cornel Wilde has surpassed Tyrone Power in popularity. Since when? In the latest official box-office poll, the nation's exhibitors named Power ahead of Wilde. Why not keep the facts straight? Janis Eltin, Chicago, III. {There are various box-office and popularity polls, Janis, no one of which is "official" in any sense. Miss Hopper's statement was based on fan mail received at the studio — which is but one of many criteria which might have been applied. In MS's own poll, Wilde ranks ahead of Power among readers 20 years of age and younger, but behind him in appeal to all other age groups. For Power's cumulative 1948 rating, see pages 24-25 — Ed.) SORRY, WRONG STATE Dear Editor: Ouch!! Just finished reading "Guy Madison in Person" in the October issue, in which you state that "Guy put in a hurry call to Deer Lake, New Jersey." Deer Lake is in Pennsylvania, about twenty-five miles above Reading. Mary Fisher, Orwigsburg, Pa. {Why_ the "Ouch," Mary? This hurts us more than it does you — Ed.) MORE ABOUT LIZ'S AGE Dear Editor: I would like to answer the question which appeared in the Your Letters column for October: "Why doesn't Elizabeth Taylor act her age?" Since we are all indi- viduals, all of us don't necessarily grow up or mature at the same time. Some girls mature much earlier than others. I think Liz looks older than her 17 years and also acts older — but maybe she just grew up faster. You can't expect her to act 13. Bette Ann Lyons, Yeardon, Pa. {See Mrs. Sara Sothern Taylor's story about Liz' approaching woman- hood on page 50 of this issue — Ed.) PRAISE FOR REBA AND BONNIE Dear Editor: The best article in your October issue in my opinion is "Let's Have a Hayride" by Reba and Bonnie Churchill. That kind of reading matter is so good for our growing youth — clean and whole- some. Let's have more of the same. Frances Williams, First Methodist Church of Hollywood {An attitude supported by 29 others who wrote in this month — Ed.) This Turbulent Novel of Love and Hate now brought to you by DELL BOOKS for only 25/ THE MADONNA OF THE SLEEPING CARS by Maurice De Kobra This is the vivid and compelling story of a capricious world-famous beauty and her desperate attempts to sell herself for the kind of security she believes she must have. It is a novel of love contrasting with hate, of tenderness and savagery, of gentleness and cruelty, set against a background of excite- ment and political intrigue in London, Berlin and Russia. With mounting excitement, it builds to a dramatic and satisfying conclusion. No. 256 Other recently released Dell Books Enchanted Oasis by Faith Baldwin Lovely Cynthia Stoddard has been brought up in strait- laced fashion, and the gay and carefree life of Palm Springs was almost more than she could cope with. 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MS-19 ■ 261 Fifth Avenue, New York 16, N. Y. ■ Please send me the Dell Books checked below. I enclose □ No. 256 □ No. 255 □ No. 233 □ No. 262 I Name ' Address City, Zone, State ^ DELL BOOKS ARE ON SALE EVERYWHERE ONLY 4* 25c I WHY JIMMY STEWART WON'T MARRY (Continued from page 44) and a girl like Anita Colby, at the same time. He'll extend a forefinger as if about to impart a valuable tip. "Fine," he'll say. "Just fine." With amiable yet distant pleasantries of this kind (so reminiscent of the sort of roles he plays), Jimmy wanders away im- pressing everybody with the fact that he is a happy man who wants for nothing — everybody, that is, except those who know him best. They don't believe it. They think that Jimmy as a lone bachelor al- ways was, and still is, just a performance — a performance that could be ended by the right girl. The question they now ask themselves, rather worriedly, is — has Jimmy stopped looking? plain talk . . . There is Hank Fonda, acknowledged to be one of Jimmy's best friends. One of the last parties Hank attended on the Coast, before going East to star in Mr. Roberts on Broadway, was at Anatole Litvak's home at Malibu. The talk turned to Jimmy, and Hank made himself plain. "There's a guy I'd like to see get mar- ried, who should get married," Hank said. "I hate to think of him sitting in his little house looking at the telephone and won- dering whom to call, what to do — when all the time he belongs in his own home with his own wife." One can even get a better authority than Hank — Jimmy himself. There have been times in his life when he has talked very unlike a bachelor — at least, unlike a willing one. It's never been told in print before, but what are believed to be his most honest and revealing words on the subject were spoken one night aboard the Queen Eliza- beth when he was on his way home from his three-years' service in Europe. With seven other homebound, war-weary soldiers, he was playing cards and all were discussing what they planned to do with their lives, now about to be handed back to them by the Army. For most of the eight, there were wives and families wait- ing. A few of the others had plans for marriage — with either a girl known or a girl yet to be met. It went on like that, each man laying himself bare, until Jimmy, too, found himself talking — quietly, seri- ously, as he had never talked before. He told the men that he knew happiness for him could have its beginning only with a woman to love, but that he faced an inability to make a choice. You go out with a great many girls in Hollywood but when you start looking at each as a pros- pective wife something happens. It was being a star, a public figure that stood in the way somehow . . . somehow that was it. "Sometimes," Jimmy had gone on, "you get periods out in Hollywood when you are terribly discouraged. You think it would be best to give it all up and go back home. Go back, and buy the folks a better house, maybe build one for yourself on a lot of acres and lead the sort of life that was yours to start with. Maybe a girl will turn up who belongs to that life. Maybe not. That's what you think. But you never do anything about it. . . ." When Jimmy stopped it was in some confusion — as if he couldn't think of a proper way to finish. But he had made himself very clear. It was obvious to the soldiers sitting around the card table that this lanky officer whom fame had touched, and who was so boyish despite a scratching of grey to his hair about the temples, was n e^^^ar^^^^ch^^U^^^^o^pe c t loneliness continuing. From his words, a few of those present had the impression that the shadow of a woman stood between him and his happi- ness— a woman he loved but had never been able to attain. The rest sensed some- thing else. They got this from what they thought to be a quality of uncertainty. It seemed to weaken his voice whenever he tried to describe his reactions to those girls, many of them stars, whose names had been coupled with his. It was almost as if he'd never quite know what to make of them — when to believe them, when not. Was there something in this that might be Jimmy's main stumbling block? Whatever the whole truth may be, his friends feel that this much he has made plain — his failure to find the sort of happi- ness he has admitted seeking is a problem to him. And thus their glumness over his strengthening espousal of bachelorhood. They cannot help wondering if it isn't a sign that Jimmy has given up hope of solving it. As a matter of fact, when one considers his activities since his return to Hollywood, one begins to wonder if Jimmy's really that's ho A movie director accompanied by his wife, sat at a table in the Brown Derby, admiring a young actress at a nearby table. "Look how modestly she's dressed," he commented. "She doesn't even wear a trace of makeup." "Some women," his wife sneered, "will go to any extreme to attract attention." Irving Hoffman in The Hollywood Reporter been trying to solve it. His post-war ro- mances have followed the pattern of his pre-war romances: attachments leading to gossip-columns mention, but no further. Where before there was a Ginger Rogers, a Betty Furness, Simone Simon, Virginia Bruce, Eleanor Powell or Sonja Henie (plus various society girls usually introduced as "Miss Brown" or "Miss Smith"), there is now a Myrna Dell, an Anita Colby or Gloria MacLean (plus more "Browns" and "Smiths" of course). Once more he is everybody's Romeo — and nobody's. Does the thought or memory of a certain woman stand between Jimmy and the others he meets? If so, a backward look at his life reveals one whom he met nearly 18 years ago and for whom, ever since, he has had a strong attachment — although her heart has three times gone to other men. They first looked at each other at Prince- ton, which his father and grandfather had attended before him. A play came to town, The Artist and the Lady, and Jimmy, not an actor but a member of the university's theater group because of his accordion- playing hobby, saw the play and was later introduced to the "Lady," a blonde girl who had grey eyes and a husky-edged Can it be that he still hasn't got over that first meeting with Margaret Sullavan? He is often asked that question — some- times by girls he takes out who have heard the story and are intrigued by it. He al- ways laughs as if tickled by the foolish- ness of the idea. Yet, marriage with Mar- garet is an idea he certainly entertained; and, from the viewpoint of what that meet- ing meant to his life, he hasn't got over it. The truth is that if he hadn't met Mar- garet Sullavan he would have been, in- stead of an actor, an architect. Architec- ture was on Jimmy's mind when their paths crossed, but that was not Mar- garet's world. Jimmy dropped architec- ture. Jimmy went where Margaret was — into the theater. It was never announced then that they were in love, or even just that Jimmy was in love with her. But they were a close duo, and later part of as close a trio, in summer theater, when Hank Fonda joined them. During those days on Cape Cod when the three rehearsed their parts on the beach afternoons and performed nightly in the playhouse that jutted out from shore on creaking piles, there were many who conjectured romance between Jimmy and Margaret. But when she married she mar- ried Hank, not Jimmy. Success came to Margaret and Hank be- fore it came to Jimmy — but so did divorce. And these two were both in Hollywood when Margaret gave Jimmy's career its greatest impetus by inducing Universal to let him star with her in Next Time We Love. Tests had to be made of Jimmy first, of course, but Margaret took no chances: she played opposite him in the tests herself. If anyone wants to know how Jimmy felt about Margaret (or "Peg," as he calls her) in those days (and wonders why he laughs at questions recalling this romance), a short conversation he had with one of his sisters who was visiting him then is enlightening. "Why don't you marry Margaret Sulla- van?" she asked. "You're always talking about her." Jimmy's reply was, "I would if I could." They made more pictures together. Over at M-G-M everybody remembers Jimmy's excellent spirits when, in 1938, he heard that his "Peg" had been signed to play op- posite him in Shopworn Angel. On the set at that time it was taken for granted that Jimmy's world held two interests, Margaret Sullavan and his career — in that order. And thoughts of marriage, and of marrying Margaret, had by no means left him. That Christmas he went home for a visit and his father asked how he was getting along. a little lonesome . . . "All right," replied Jimmy, "but life is getting a little lonesome for me. A man shouldn't live alone. It isn't natural. I think I'd better get married." That was also the year he told the world, via a Modern Screen interview, that he thought the ideal girl should have blond hair, grey eyes and be not too tall. In case that description weren't recognizable he added "like Margaret Sullavan." And, as if that didn't tie it down, he continued on to say that he wanted "another Margaret Sul- lavan." It would have had to have been "another Margaret Sullavan." The original one was hardly available to him except as a subject for his romantic discussions and interviews. She was busy acquiring a second husband — and then a third. Her second one was Willie Wyler, the director. Her third was Leland Hayward, the latter not only a close friend of Jimmy's, but his agent as well. Yet, all through the period of these mar- riages, and in between, Jimmy was ever near his "Peg" if only as a figure in the background — and his devotion to her today is still undiminished. When she was last in Hollywood he paid faithful attendance, felt impelled to phone her often, occasionally even while he was out with another girl! So it may well be that Jimmy cannot see beyond Margaret Sullavan, even if there can be no Margaret Sullavan in his life. He once said, only a few years after coming to Hollywood, that he is the sort of guy who really takes a spill when he falls in love. He went on: "When I'm crazy enough to ask a girl to marry me she's going to be more important to me than anything else in the world. What she says will be law." But back in 1938 he said something else that is regarded as even more significant by those who remember his shipboard confes- sion that he had difficulty making a roman- tic choice. He frankiy admitted that the first rush of girls, after his success was established in Hollywood, scared him. Everyone remembers that Jimmy was long considered a shy fellow. Olivia DeHavil- land, when members of her family were freely predicting she and Jimmy would marry, gave as her opinion that he was "super-shy." Can this be the real key? It is along the line of what a number of girls who have gone with Jimmy are said to think. That they have talked and puzzled over him for years is hardly news. And the sum of their thinking is perhaps best boiled down by one girl, a beauty whom the columnists have had altar-bound with Jimmy dozens of times, but who is intelli- gent enough to know much better herself. search abandoned? . . . "Take his whole story," she has pointed out. "A shy boy from a small town over- night finds himself the center of a group of girls more glamorous than he had ever thought existed. Nothing in his life has ever prepared him for all this adulation. Now, everybody knows that Jimmy's outstand- ing traits are honesty and dislike of sham. This honesty tells him that he is still the same boy he was yesterday so he knows it isn't that fellow they are clamoring for; it's the new one. But he cannot sham, so he cannot pretend to himself that he is anything else but himself — a boy, he some- times feels, they wouldn't turn around twice to look at. Unconsciously, maybe, he's been looking for a girl who would — and hasn't found her. Maybe he has decided he never will. If that is so — well, it's kind of a tragedy, because he does want her." Has Jimmy so decided? This would account not only for his bachelorhood, but also for the ever more pronounced air of detachment that charac- terizes his personality now, a personality remarkably close to the Jimmy Stewart he is on the screen — a philosophical sort of fellow, slightly bemused and always a little remote from what is going on about him. When you look at this fellow, it is difficult to see the other one — the boy who talked about girls and marriage when he first came to Hollywood, who loved the home he was raised in and was home-conscious for his own future way of living. It is difficult to see that boy, but there are some who claim they csn. that Jimmy hasn't been able to submerge him cornpletelv — that doing this is going to be a tougher job than Jimmy realizes. The End The screen story of You Gotta Stav Happy, Jimmy Stewart's latest picture, is to ^e 4ounA in the Janu- ary issue oi Screen Stories. Love-quiz . . For Married Women Only WHY IS HER HUSBAND SO CRUELLY INDIFFERENT? A. Jim adored her when they married. But now — so soon — he almost ignores her. Unfortunately, this wife is not even aware of her one fault which has caused his love to cool. Q. What is that one fault she is unaware of? A. Failure to practice sound feminine hygiene with a scienti- fically correct preparation for vaginal douching, such as "Lysol" in proper solution. Q. Aren't soap, soda, or salt just as effective? A. Absolutely not. Because they cannot compare with "Lysol" in germ killing power. Though gentle to delicate membranes, "Lysol" is powerful in the presence of mucus. Destroys the source of objectionable odors . . . kills germs on contact. Q. Do doctors recommend "Lysol"? A. Many doctors advise patients to douche regularly with "Lysol" brand disinfectant just to insure daintiness alone . . . and to use it as often as they need it. No greasy aftereffect. KEEP DESIRABLE, by douching regularly with "Lysol." Remember — no other product for feminine hygiene is more reliable than "Lysol". . . no other product is more effective! No wonder three times more women use "Lysol" than all other liquid products combined! For Feminine Hygiene rely on safe, effective NEW ...INTIMATE HYGIENE FACTS FREE! New booklet of information by reputable gynecological authority. Mail coupon to Lehn & Fink, 192 Bloomfield Avenue, Bloomfleld, N. J. NAME_ Easy to use . . . economical A Concentrated Germ-Killer STREET. CITY- _STATE_ \ D.M. 491 Product of Lehn & Fink 79 HE GOT WHAT HE WANTED (Continued from page 57) but one is always sure to be off on a wan- dering trip somewhere). There are great plans under way, plans to make up for the misery of that 14-month period which be- gan when Larry and his studio, Columbia Pictures, disagreed on the proper course for his career, and he took the decisive step of calling a halt to it altogether. It was a tough decision to make. It meant he was sending himself into en- forced idleness at a time when his star had begun to soar. It meant he had to stand for criticism from others and, even worse than this, be the victim of his own fears. Was he strong enough to take the outside blows and had he inner courage enough to overcome his own doubts? The answer is yes, to both questions — and it's official now with the settlement of his contract in an agreement which pro- vides that he will make one picture a year for five years for Columbia but is other- wise his own master. exciting victory . . . That's an exciting victory and it's no wonder that right after all papers were signed Larry went straight home to Betty and announced, "From here on it's action for us. This house will be hopping." "You mean we might go to New York and do a stage show together?" she asked. "Yes, we might." "And you are going to start your own independent picture company?" "It's started. We're looking for a script." "And," Betty wanted to know, "how about your habit of jumping on your motorcycle and going off riding up the hills all alone? Are you going to keep that up?" "No," said Larry. And she sighed with relief — but too soon. The next moment Larry was adding, "I'm going to get you a motorcycle and you can ride with me." One of the reasons Larry isn't giving up his motorcycle is that he credits it with helping to bring about a happy ending to his troubles. When he didn't like the three pictures he was cast in after The Jolson Story and his refusal to do any more be- came a court matter, the judgment finally handed down was a kind of stalemate. He could work for himself — but not in pic- tures and not for any other studio. Trying to figure out a solution, Larry went riding on his wheel one Sunday morning and hit for the top of a hill overlooking Holly- wood. There, standing high above the town which had given him a great start — and then tripped him — his mind went over the possibilities before him. When he started back down he knew what he wanted to do. A few weeks later he was on his way East to engage in summer theater. The play, A Free Hand, by Norman Panama and Mel Frank ("Kind of fits the situation, that title, doesn't it?" he smiles), taught Larry a lot. But more important, he thinks, is what it taught his studio: Larry Parks could make a living without pictures — and what's more was prepared to, from then on, rather than do roles he didn't like. The nature of Larry's sudden film suc- cess was such that there was a tendency to overlook his background of training in the legitimate theater field. When the famous Group Theatre was turning out some of the most successful actors and playwrights in the entertainment fie'd to- day, Larry Parks was very much in the center of its activities. For that matter, his wife, Betty, was a contemporary of his 80 at the time in the New York show world even though they didn't know each other at the time. Betty trained with the Neigh- borhood Playhouse in New York and took dancing under Martha Graham. You can even credit Larry with a dancing back- ground acquired in a group taught by Anna Sokolow, a disciple of Martha Gra- ham. "And because a lot of people still think I am an overnight wonder," suggested Larry, when he was talking about this phase of his troubles, "it might be noted that in seven years after coming to Holly- wood I played in more than 30 pictures. And if anyone wonders why I got a little impatient, why I'm a bit finicky about my roles — well, in some of those 30 pictures there were animals with whom I would gladly have exchanged parts. Their roles were better and longer." Perhaps because of Larry's demonstra- tion of independence, or maybe because the whole country has been asking for a sequel to The Jolson Story and the studio is more than willing to grant its wish, a more amicable mood began to be noted in the dispute. It resulted in the recent agree- ment— and now Larry acts again, starting with Jolson Sings Again. But that's an awfully short way of dis- missing one of the most tense and emo- tional periods in Larry's life. He thinks he lived five years during the four-hour meeting it took the lawyers for both sides to get together — four hours which he spent at home alone waiting for his attorney and personal representative, Lou Mandel, to phone him from the studio where the set- tlement wrangling was going on. "When he finally phoned me from the studio and I knew everything was okay, I felt like a life-termer getting an unexpected par- don," says Larry. That night Larry and Betty celebrated by buying four bottles of champagne and riding out to the beach home of their clos- est friends, Lloyd and Dotty Bridges, just north of Malibu. Larry felt so good that though the others complained the water felt cold when they went night swimming, he declares it seemed actually balmy to him. None of the other people who live in the canyon where the Parks' home is located needed to be told thereafter that Larry's troubles were over and that he was back at work rehearsing for Jolson Sings Again. They all have to pass the house on their way to work or market, and all day long Jolson records were being played to help Larry with his difficult synchronization performances which he had to perfect be- fore he could go before the cameras. It wasn't a matter of a half dozen songs, but SAW IT HAPPEN When I was on vacation, my little brother John went into a drug store one day and got us some cokes. When I'd finished I called John to take back the bottles. He was standing near the door of the store as I called, "John, be a darl and come here." Imagine my surprise when John Garfield stepped up. Irene Fish Plainview, Texas 18 numbers in which he had to look and act as if he were doing the singing. "So, with the constant repetition of the songs, it's a pretty safe bet that in no other part of the world is so much Jolson music heard as in our canyon," he comments. "When the wind is right the music floats right up to the top of the hill and the houses up there get mammy songs with their views." But the neighbors are tickled that Larry is back in harness. He has received their congratulations along with letters from all parts of the country — and one notable let- ter from out of the country. That letter was from Mexico, was written in Spanish and was signed just "Manuel." It took Larry some time to remember Manuel, but he did. He'd met him, a ten-year-old Mexican farm boy, on a studio publicity trip to Rosarita Beach down below Tijuana two years ago. Manuel had a little piglet whom he called Consuelo under his arms. As Larry and Betty were talking to Man- uel, Consuelo wriggled free suddenly aiid scampered away. Everybody joined in the chase but it was Larry who caught her. He dropped down on his knees and put every- thing he had into a fervent Al Jolson ges- ture of appeal. It was too much for Con- suleo and she came racing back to jump into his outstretched arms. "Manuel kissed his little piglet on the forehead and then he kissed Larry," re- members Betty. "With the price of pork today, it was a wonder that Manuel even gave me a thought," says Larry. When Larry completes his role in Jol- son Sings Again, he plans to go right into a picture to be made by his own company. It's just being formed and it's known as Louis Mandel Productions, Inc., with Bet- ty, Mandel and himself as controlling of- ficers. Following this, if a suitable musical comedy can be found, he and Betty would like to open with it on Broadway. After that comes a little idea that Betty has been nursing for some time: that the two of them work up a routine which they can present on a combination vacation and professional tour abroad. When this is set, the world is going to hear Larry Parks singing with Larry Parks' own voice. hush-hush voice . . . What kind of a voice is it? Larry won't say. But Betty knows and as far as she is concerned she'd rather listen to him than she would even to . . . you know who. (Please, Mr. Jolson, you're supposed to appreciate Betty's wifely loyalty!) Both agree there is a bit of a problem involved and that the first time Larry sings, as Larry alone sings, it's going to be a ticklish moment. "But we'll make it," thinks Betty. "She has confidence," says Larry. "She has so much confidence that she started shopping for all the things we needed even before the settlement was signed." "I was certain about it," she replied. "See?" asked Larry. "That's the only difference between us. I thought that may- be I was out of pictures for good — but she knew I wasn't. We don't have the same kind of thoughts, but we're together on the general idea of things." One of the things they're together on the general idea of is — children. They think they should have some. They would like those columnists who occasion- ally hint they're having quarrels and part- ings to know that that's how things are with Larry Parks and Betty Garrett. , The End bow meets cur Boy meets girl whose hair is set gaily in pert, colorful ribbon curlers. Boy thinks girl very cute! By Carol Carter, Beauty Editor Audrey Long, Eagle Lion star, curled up in bows! ■ Now you can put your hair up in curlers whenever you like without being prepared to duck into the hall closet when your favorite boy friend whirls up the front steps! Somebody with imagination has just invented the trickiest ribbon curlers in a rainbow of shades — you can get them in one color, or assorted shades. The hair-curling principle is completely sound, being the beauty-wise, modern off-spring of the rag-curler of funny-paper fame. Simply roll a strand of moist hair up on each ribbon curler and tie it into a pert little bow. Just think of being able to go down town Saturday afternoon, looking as cute as punch with a head a-bobbing with little bows and all the while your hair is curling frantically for your exciting date in the evening! Being able to set your hair and still look presentable plus makes it possible to shampoo your hair just when you feel like it. Every few days isn't too often if you want your hair to be silky, with lively high-lights. When there isn't time for a regular shampoo, or you plan to go out immediately in cold weather, give yourself a ten-minute dry shampoo to renew hair glamor. Nothing takes the place of regular brushing — treat yourself to a new nylon-bristled, Lucite-handled brush which, faithfully wielded, is a wonderful invigorator for your hair. De- termined brushing brings nourishing blood to the scalp, removes dust and makes hair more willing to curl. Carol Carter, Beauty Editor MODERN SCREEN MAGAZINE. P. O. Box 125, Murray Hill Station, New York 16, N.Y. 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