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It's made off glittering stars, one ski, ill-tempered mocking birds and some corn
HAVING tasted the blessed tranquility of backstage life on Broadway,* we find it hard to understand what Hollywood says about Philip Merivale. Hollywood says Merivale, who used to be a leading actor on the New York stage, came to Hollywood because his health was too delicate for New York.
Now, we know Hollywood only from hearsay - and Hollywood hearsay at that - but to us the place seems nerve-wracking. It is a place where vitamin factories explode, grand pianos disappear, actresses look upon perfumed rain as their prerogative and mocking birds pluck hairs from horses' tails.
Here are some recent screen capital capers:
George Sanders and Signe Hasso were kissing for the camera in a tarpaulin-covered set, when a high wind arose and started blowing things every which way. The law of self-preservation being what it is, Sanders tore his lips away and ran for his life. When he looked around, Signe was right behind him. Nobody got hurt, but it was very disturbing.
Two days later, the lovers were back in position, when the vitamin factory across the street blew up. (See, what did we tell you?)
Sanders had to pose as St. George, the dragon slayer, so somebody found him a suit of armor the late John Barrymore had worn. As he stood there in the glittering metal Sanders got quite witty, it says here.
"There's doubt about anybody being worthy of stepping into the great Barrymore's shoes," said George, "but his tin pants seem to fit very well indeed."
This stuff happened while Sanders was making "A Scandal in Paris," a fact we mention mainly because it brings up the subject of Carole Landis. Carole, whose prominence is such that further identification is unnecessary, was in her portable dressing room one day, when some man out of the midwest bustled in,...