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A Few Violets, Oh, So Demure! BY LOUISE GALLAGHER
ALL the silk hats and fine rainment that Hollywood boasts made their appearance at Grauman’s Theatre last Saturday night to see the premiere of “Romola” and welcome the Gish sisters who traveled across the continent to be present at the opening of their latest picture.
You don’t go to a first nighter out here because you are keen to see the picture or think that the gripping story will make your overlook the five bucks you pay for your ticket, plus war tax. “Romola” was worth just the amount of the tax and no more. You can’t, however, expect to sit closely wedged in between Pola Negri and Jack Dempsey without making it worth the manager’s while. If you are bent upon hearing Pauline Garon’s deep bass voice offsetting Conrad Nagel’s falsetto, you do it expensively or not at all.
Every crown prince and princess of film land were on parade to show their loyal subjects that the illusive and adorable Lillian was not the only jewel to be admired in the tiara of screen crowns. The managers of theaters here also have a unique way of ballyhooing their attractions that makes you overlook the price of admission. As each famous one appeared the other evening, their name was megaphoned from the stage and a spotlight followed them to their seat.
There was no way of disguising your identity. The world was told whether you were there with your current wife or the latest De Mille find. It was a great opportunity to check up on the latest gossip of cinema blue bloods.
I got the greatest kick of the evening in watching the reaction of great ones to the spotlight. In spite of what you hear to the contrary there are a few modest violets still growing in Hollywood.
Rudolph Fussed.
Would you believe it-that spot actually fussed Rudolph. A round of applause greeted his entrance and as he walked down the aisle with the light playing on him, it was quite evident that he felt uncomfortably conspicuous and was glad to hide his whiskers in the semi-darkness of his lodge seat.
Huntley Gordon was another of the modest ones who was glad to get away from the glare and made record time in gaining his seat. I dote on Harold Lloyd anyhow but even if you were not one of his ardent admirers, you would have appreciated his start of surprise when his name was called as though it was unusual for him to be given any public recognition.
The lesser lights objected very much less to being “spotted” than did the nationally known ones. A famous novelist ducked his head and tried to side step the eyes turned his way when his name was called while a scenario writer, whose name I wager has never been heard of outside of Hollywood film circles, drew himself up and strutted like the king of all the peacocks. His poise and sense of superiority could not be shattered easily. A hard-boiled newspaperman sitting with me snorted his admiration of the sweet young things who looked the spotlight straight in the eye with their best baby stare, and refused to acknowledge a day over 18. Eighteen years ago there must have been one-born-every minute for the present crop to be so plentiful.
By far the most beautiful woman present was Mrs. Rudolph Valentino. She is not a type that you could easily classify as belonging to any special nation for she combines the charm of many. She was simply dressed and wore no jewelry of any kind but as she walked down the runway a hum of admiration swept the theater. Unlike Ruddy, she seemed utterly unconscious of the eyes turned her way. She is doing all the casting for Ruddy’s next picture and it is not to be wondered that the First National Studio is now the favorite job-hunting ground for all the Beau Brummels of picture land.
Lillian And Dorothy.
The lights were all focused to the stage when Lillian and Dorothy Gish arrived. Lillian was the most demure looking creature I ever expect to see. She had on a little short-waisted pink taffeta frock that might have been worn by any school girl. Somehow in keeping with the picture, I had expected to see her wrapped in a toga that harked back to the days of Ancient Rome and for a moment I was just a trifle disappointed at her unassuming attitude. I do not believe that it is possible for anyone to describe Lillian Gish as she is. Her slightest gesture seems more forcible than could the wildest tantrums of a Nazimova or Negri. Her speaking voice too is lovely and makes you wonder why we have not heard her on the legitimate stage. But best of all you like her utter femininity and the unsolved mystery of her smile. Dorothy is not at all like her sister. She is effervescent and very much a comedienne. You get her at once and like her but you do not remember her an hour later. And while I am speaking of famous people, I would have you know that I am not playing with Robert E. Lee in a Western comedy. I was a little shocked to find Robert in such company but he assures me that he is a direct descendent of the famous general but refuses to capitalize it in any way, preferring to get on in pictures entirely through merit. I might be impressed by such a noble attitude were it not for the fact that since I have met three Robert E. Lee’s, each of whom laid claim to the same worthy ancestor. This one really has a good Southern drawl and might easily on the strength of it, claim Virginia as his native state. It rather hurts my pride though to hear Robert E. ordered around by a Vermont Yankee assistant director who razzes him on his lack of emotional spirit.
Yesterday we had three new girls on the set and one of them proved to be a Miss Nancy Lee, also a descendent of that well known family and also from Virginia. The two Lees, however, did not care to hunt up any possible relationship. In fact, Nancy seemed to consider her family the only one that could justly lay claim to distinction -either military or cinematic. There is a Blue Book now being gotten out of the cinema elite of filmdom and I am wondering how many of the Lees will be registered in it. As getting your name in depends upon paying $50 a line, the poor but proud ones may be barred. You meet here the descendants of every famous man who has figured in the history of the states. It speaks well for pictures that they have such worthwhile names from which to draw.
Last spring I signed a contract to make three pictures with an independent company. One picture was made, and then the funds gave out. Wednesday I received a letter from them asking me to call at their studio on important business. The company has now sufficient money to make another picture and all of those formerly under contract are expected to work for them. Fortunately, I had just finished at the Lloyd Studio until sometime early in January when I go back for a month’s work on an interior scene, and was at liberty if I cared to take the work. The director was nice about it. Said they would not hold any of us to our contracts on account of the lapse of time between pictures but they wanted all the old players back if possible. I agreed to work only in the first part of the picture which will take about ten days. It is a serious thing to break a contract as it blacklists you with other studios but in this instance with six months between pictures, it would not be easy to enforce such a contract.
