New-York Tribune from New York, New York • Page 44

NEWS AND STAGE DOOR 6BilT Farnum Loves to Play Heroic Parts William Farnum should have been born away back in the days when knighthood was in flower. Such good looks as his are wasted on mere mod? ern civilization. The thought was in? voluntary as he came clanking forward with high boots, spurs and the black and gold braided glory of Don Caesar de Bazan. And when he bowed and waved his plumed beaver hat one could not help feeling sorry that the days of leisured courtliness had given place to an era of "How d'ye do?" "Hello!" and "So long" syncopations. "Now me -am I interviewing Don Caesar or William Farnum?" one in? quired of the railant gentleman who stopped making pictures ot Dumas's hero at the Ffcx Film studios long enough to give kn interview.

''You loolfln? at me for the first An-1 last me," he said, with a magnifl- cert air. am to be married. Behold my Ho waved the plumed hat in the di- rection of a lovely lady dono up In William Farnum white satin. In the background hovered a mantilla-ed mamma and some swash? buckling Spaniards. lowered his am supposed to die.

I am marrying so that, I may be shot, instead of hanged. It will all be over in two hours." Tiiat was as far as Don Caesar went. The famous Farnum smile broke loose, and William the actor continued: "How I revel in those old stories of chivalry and romance! I read the book that Aye are now picturizing dozens and dozens of times wnen I was a boy. And no moilern scenario, however satisfac- tory, equals the classics. What is good in one aye is good in another.

The up to-date scenario is an ephemeral affair. I love the jousting, the dueling the ro? mantic color, the costumes, of the Mid? dle Ages. And, do you know. I think the public wants this sort of picture more and more." "Is it any wonder that there is gun? play in many of my pictures?" he asked. "I knew how to shoot when I was live years old and I'm afraid 1 have still "the heart of a boy.

In some of my pictures I have literally played to the boyhood of the country. Of course, I have liked making my classi? cal pictures best of all, especially the 'Tale of Two Cities' and 'Les Mise? The handsome, splendidly moulded Farnum then proceeded to decry the necessity for good looks in the mov? ing picture actor. He believes that for women they are highly important, but that in the case of men they don't contribute materially to success. It is the all-essential gray matter that counts on the screen, as everywhere else in life, he believes. "Concentration!" he exclaimed "It sounds bromidic, but it's true.

So many people imagine that nil one has to do to be a successful movie actor is to look like a Greek god and strut around. I find that the screen calls for as much dramatic ability and cer? tainly for more endurance than the legitimate stage, and I have had ample experience of both. A man may make a nit in one picture without having had any dramatic experience, but to be a sustained success a solid foundation is necessary. There is something dreadful for ono who likes the open spaces as I do, hunting, fishing and snooting, to be cooped up inside mak? ing pictures; but with music and other devices wo try to create the atmos? phere of the stage, and certainly there is an endless variety of theme and treatment." Mr. Farnum prefers the heavier type of picture.

He sees the picturization of Shakespeare's plays not far distant and hopes to be among the pioneers to take the on the screen that for years have been his on the stage. "Think of the possibilities of 'Ham? let'!" he said. "Personally, the villain's has frequently been my favorite. I have never enjoyed anything more than being Shylock, and I think I may say I have done everything from 'The Gilded Fool' to 'At the Sign of the It is hard to say how Shake? speare would go in pictures, if we dressed up the plays and called them by other than their own names they would bo a tremendous success, but their true colors the public might get tho idea that 'highbrow' pictures were being forced upon them. It seems to me thnt people want a different kind of picture now.

The 'stunt' for its own sake is The cause be? hind the moral, if you like looked for." Mr. Farnum's personal experiences have been sufficiently exciting to fur? nish a good plot for a scenario. To quote himself, he has alternately starved und rolled in luxury, been stranded and feted. And he has stead? ily burned the midnight oil, for uc cess did not come to him without labor and study. When he started to act he got a week and was supposed to furnish his costumes out of that.

For years ho was leading man in a stock company in New Orleans, and later in Buffalo. "The Spoilers" was his first picture. Ho had not the remotest idea of going into pictures until Hex Beach told him that he would allow the story to be picturized only on condition that Farnum played in it. Everything went bo well that now But that is another story and a well known one! If you want to get Mr. Farnum real? ly kindled, talk fish to him.

It is his major hobby. In a large, sunny room in his homo at Sag Harbor, L. he has raro specimens of fish. Every one represents a separate struggle. Suc? cess on the screen is nothing to Mr.

Farnum compared with the joy he derives from a tnssle with a sword fish and final mastery. He hates to talk about his work, for he is modest and almost shy, but he boasts of the 298-pound swordfish he caught and the hammerhead shark that he struggled for all on? day and finally kit? Men's Clothes And Women's, By Beaucaire i If "Monsieur Beaucaire" affects the New Yorker as it did the Londoner the next sartorial surely it's man's turn be for plum colored breeches, silken hoso and lace ruffles. The London public fell so in love with the gallant gentleman's bro? caded glory that the tailors actually displayed satin breeches and dared mankind to come in and order. And why not? asks Marion Green, who is not at all a lady, but quite a handsome young man. He cast hin eyes around tho dressing-room of the New Amsterdam Theater, let them linger on the marvelous coats of the gallant M.

Beaucaire, and repeated his "Well, for instance, there is the sub? way. Can you imagine satin breeches chasing after tho subway?" one ob? jected. "Hardly!" he declared. "But a modi? fication of the costume would be quite feasible for evening waar. Yes, and convenient, too; I know it's the dick? ens of a nuisance keeping my pants from bagging at the knee.

There wouldn't be any trouble about it if one wore breeches. The entire costume is graceful and distinctive, and its revival in modified form might also mean the revival of some of the qualities of gal? lantry that went along with it." "Yes, and tho romance of the women, you know!" "They it, wouldn't they?" "Of course, they might get jealous If their husbands began to outvio them and would add to the cost of living." "Oh, can the cost of living be added to?" inquired Mr. Green with surprised I look. "I thought it had gone the limit. But seriously, don't you think men's clothes are stupid, stiff and ugly? They are just about as inartistic and impractical as they can be and no way of telling the butler from his master.

Now, if modified Beaucaire clothes were adopted, men might lux? uriate in soft collars, plum-colorsd breeches and easy, comfortable coats." "Would you care to be a pioneer?" The manly-looking chap in extremely conventional attire laughed and di? verted his interviewer's attention by showing M. Beaucaire's stunning blue and gold coats. Mr. Green is an American, although he has won his stage laurels in Eng? land and is now playing here for the first time. He was a concert singer and has sung all over America and 1n Europe.

He was crossing to London about a year ago when a producer heard him sing. Almost immediately he was engaged to play in "Monsieur Beau? caire." He had to learn all about stagecraft inside of five weeks. As they say in the script of the play: "You naughty rascal! You work "It was quite a job," laughingly agreed Mr. Green. "One had to learn all sorts of things, from picking up a lady's glove and handing her a laca handkerchief with an air to fighting duels.

But it has been an exhilarating experience. The play went wonderfully in London and we could have run on for another year and a half if we could have secured a jroof to cover our heads." "And since you are the protagonist of Beau Nash attire, what do you think of women's clothes?" "Before I tell you I must enlarge on the joys of being named Marion. My name is a source of endless con? fusion. Would you believe it, I get letters addressed to 'Miss Marion Green, Barytone'? And I ought to bo well up on women's fashions. For the modistes, d'ye call me with their cata-1 logues and suggestions.

I "Frankly, I think women will next be clothing themselves up to the They have iust about taken everything off now and when they reach the limit i the spice has gone from their daring. There will be a reaction. These things i run in cycles. But I do think skirts are short and backs are low at present," I modestly finished Mr. Green.

Vie Quinn Says Shimmy Is a Heaven-Sent Gift And Can't Be Taught Vie Quinn is so frail, apparently, that a puff of wind might be expected to blow her away. But start up the Jazz and watch Vie dance! She did it at the Palace Theater all last week and did it so well that even the more so? phisticated theatergoers gasped and pronounced her a hit. One of those overnight sensations. No one had heard much about her before. Her shimmy did the trick.

It is a nice, polite shimmy and very hard to do. And it's no use practicing shim? mying, says Vie, for it's an inborn heaven-sent or whatever-you-like-to call-it gift. Moreover, she adds that only one-half of the people who think they are doing it know how. "And where did you learn?" "I never really learned. I used to dance down at Long Beach just for my own amusement, and one night every one on the floor stopped dancing to watch my partner and me.

Then I danced in the Winter Garden, the Palais Royal, the Coloninl, where I made my first real hit, and then hero. I would rather dance than do any thing in the world. "You see, I want to climb the lad dor," she said. "Up. up, as far as I can go.

It will be slow work, I have no doubt, but I do not intend to stand still. The dancer really stands as good a chance ai? any one of getting on." Stars Appearing at the Leading Screen Theaters i "I Could Die Dancing," Says Fair Valli Valli, Who Is "Miss Millions" Let skirts taper in as they will, Valli Valli proposes to go her own sweet way and wear the kind of clothes she thinks becoming without kowtowing over? much to Madame la Mode. It is no? ticeable in "Miss Millions," which opened at the Punch and Judy Theater last week, that her frocks are all full and short and astonishingly becoming. Incidentally, one of the charming features of this tuneful and pretty musical comedy is the costuming of the girls. It is not at all tho usual revue kind, but is sweet, simple and quaint.

"I think it is ridiculous to wear something merely because it is the rage," she said when the soft, ruffly gown she wore as a simple country maid in the last act was commented on in her dressing room. "One is apt to look such a sight in ultra-fashion? able things where no regard is paid to type. I am really very keen about pretty clothes and think women ought to give more or less? scientific study to the subject. Full clothes are becoming to me, and I don't believe in wasp waistline effects or constriction." As Miss Valli is slim and girl ish of figure and dances w4th extreme ease and grace, the bouffant effect is remarkably good in her case. She frankly admit3 the "simple country maid" business is quite misleading, for she has spent all her life in large cities and firmly believes she would languish and die if she had more than three months of the country at a time.

But then when that spirited young lady, Miss Millions, finds she hasn't any mil? lions at all she simply slips into pas I tures green and makes things hum on the farm. And whatever Miss Millions does Valli Valli must do, too, since they are one and tho samo person. The dancing and singing of the versatile English actress in the new play are a treat, and especially her songs, "If You'll Just Wait a Little While" and the "Letter Song." As Valli Valli laughingly explained, it is as natural for her to sing and dance as it is to breathe. She has been on tho stage since she was live years old and her enthusiasm for her I work knows no abatement. Her re 1 iterative name is quite bona tide.

It is her own. And she was educated in London and Paris. Her first appear are on the stage was in London as a child actress. Later she was Nora in "The Holly Inn," at Terry's Theater; Bilby in "Olivia," at the London Lyceum; Polly Love in "The Chris? tian" and Lady Binfield in "Kitty Grey," at the New Amsterdam, New York. Then came her engagement un? der the management of Charles Froh man in "The Dollar Princess," her Lig This was followed by her appear? ance as Marga in "The Polish Wed? ding." Her moro recent engagements include the prima donna in "Queen of the Movies" and tho leading feminine part in George M.

Cohan's "Revue of 1916" at the Astor Theater She has sung and danced four times at Windsor before King George. Like most in musical com? edy, Miss Valli aspires to straight com? edy, although she is very happy in hei present work and thinks that a fail number of her theatrical ideal3 have been realized. Royce took his beloved mistress's firs! night in Millions" with more unction than has been his custom ir other productions. Royce i-- a creature who mounts guard over Miss Valli's dressing room door and raises the dickens of a noise when he doesn't like people. For those who don't know about him he is the son of a dog owned by the late Mayor Mitchel.

So much has been said about Royce he is really quite well known in the'theatri? cal profession. Which is the advantage of being a well known person's dog! Miss Valli is a rabid advocate of dancing for every one. She believes that it is highly necessary for the dif? fusion of grace and charm. Strange to say, she acted and sang long before she the stage, at any rate, But now she prefers dancing to sing? ing. "I could die dancing," she declared, "and could be pulmotored back to life dancing, too.

It brightens tho mind. It quickens the intellect. I have dis? covered that the dance deed muscles, and that in the course of a hundred years or so a distinctive dance may have a pronounced effect on the habits and tastes of a people. "I am so fond of dancing that when I am old I shall be unable to walk unostentatiously along the street. Something is sure to develop in the arches of my feet or in my limbs, for this sense of rhythm seems never to leave me." Violet Hemiiig Compiles Glossary of the Slang Used in Movie Studios Here is a glossary of some of the motion picture studio slang as com? piled by Violet Homing, who plays the lead in "Everywomp.n" at the Rivoli this week, and is now working for the Fa? mous Players Corporation on a film version of "The Cost," by David Graham Phillips: Location; Out of scenes some place other than the studio floor.

Gumming up tho in the of the camera. Dress a up the details, such as hanging curtains, laying rugs, fixing articles on a table, etc. Hit So-and-So in the face with that the mirror so that it will reflect light on the person's face. Flood the the spotlight wider. Flood them with strong lights all over persons in set.

Hogging the one who always looks in tho camera and wants to be in every scene. to projection machine Unfurling the Actors9 Equity Flag Ethel Barrymore and Charle? Stevenson Operator to focus a scene on the screen scene is not on screen in right posi? tion. off the set. Hold your turn them off. as supers on stage.

Persons who just stand around, for general result. Cut.Word used to notify camera man to end a scene or quit turning the crank. Kill that off the small spotlight. Cut used in cutting when wanting to continue a scene which was previously shown. Knock that nigger down black shield used to protect camera from glare of lights.

Cooking Fade dimming out of scene. Can't get electricity. Carbons dead. Hook in the Cooper Hewitts. of camera man to his assistant to measure for long shots, close-ups, etc.

Long or 60 feet from camera. Close-up Five feet or so from camera. way between long shot and close-up. Take 'em out the lights. Slap these cutter's slang for splicing scenes (putting scenes together.

a negative from a print. Location man sent out to obtain the use of buildings, boats parks, for pictures. Hit on the lights. Let's of director to cam? era man and actors to start the picture Start your ordei to actors to begin moving for th? picture. Set of the scenes hav? been taken and the set can be tori down.

That's a set may torn down. plain contrasted with a movin; picture. Tape man's order to meas ure distance from players to camera. Let's have some ma uses this when he wants his assistas to get more film. Load more film into th camera.

Getting any is ele? trical current that exposes on film i streaks. On the the set, "set" beir term used to indicate the room, hous cabaret, built in the studio the picture. are you grinding Grinding means turning the came crank, and one camera man asks th question of another when he wants know what star is in his picture. Turn on the some ligl chiefly sunlight arc. the picture.

Furniture man. who tear down the (use this on the stage, too). Slap that property tells another to place a piece of fur; ture in a certain position. You've got a mes a spot uncovered by paint. Rattle your up (us Ion West Coast chiefly).

Double of cam? i in making one person appear in 1 scene at the same time in different tion, etc. Strike that down a set. Shooting a synonymo ly with taking a scene. Speak of a rector as "shooting" such and si a star out on the set or location. camera man asks another who he shooting, meaning what star he is tographing.

scene? togethej Hobbies Suit Cecil Better Than Hubbies There are a few things about Cecil Cunningham that are dif? ferent that there isn't any forgetting the lady once you have met her. (Yes, Cecil is feminine this time.) For in? stance, sjie can be funny about any? thing, and when she is funny she is very droll, indeed. She is keen on coffee for afternoon tea, prefers her toast dry and very crisp, puts hobbies ahead of hubbies, actually as well as figuratively, and injects more original? ity, vivacity and ginger into ten min? utes' conversation than some people get rid of in a lifetime. All this and a whole lot more was learned over the tea table at the Claridge, while Cecil drank coffee assiduously, bemoaned the world's lack of lyricism and hu? morously sketched her career of ups and downs. And as for her views on matrimony! They came with startling emphasis and decision.

In "The Rose of China" at the Lyric Theater she is an Amazonian person who pursues a man all the way to the land of Cathay and openly de? clares that tWe only women with good husbands are widows. But, speaking for Cecil Cunningham and not for the Rose of China, she said: "I think the fundamental require? ment of matrimony is unselfishness. Women are not unselfish. Men are not unselfish. What can one do about it? Love is sacrifice.

Where do you find it? It ain't! The best thing a woman can have in life is a hobby. I have never come across a man who could be a hobby and a hubby, too. It's the woman's fault, just as much as the man's." Miss Cunningham is given to epi? gram. What she doesn't tell' in words she effectively conveys in gestures and expression. She has red hair, the warm, curling kind, and any one who has seen her roll them in "The Greenwich Village Follies" will remember.

Her voice is rich in inflec? tion and her enunciation is extraordi? narily good. She has a wholly irre? pressible sense of humor. And, to re? duce the experience of the tall, stun? ning Rose of China to a sentence, she is well seasoned, on the borrds, having had a round of church choir, chorus, vaudeville, operetta, straight musical comedy and grand opera. Her greatest desire now is to play straight comedy without the aid of music. She doesn't believe that one big hit is enough to establish any one.

In other words, her motto is: Keep on going. "Oh! for more Gilbertian operettas!" she sighed when asked what she thought the public really wanted. "The poor public. It must take what is inflicted on it. Usually it likes a good mtTsical show better than anything too highbrow, but tuneful and enduring.

There is such a dearth of good lyrics. It is either a case of fitting words to a tune or hastily com? posing a tune to suit the words. Such a thing as collaboration between mu? sician and poet, that their composi? tions may dovetail, is rare." Personally Miss Cunningham gives all her songs an individualistic turn. It is inconcevable that a manager could ever be quite sure what this purposeful young woman might spring on him. Many of the songs she sings have been written specially for her and she does impromptu things on the spur of the moment.

She likes con? trasts. For instance, one of her favo? rite acts in vaudeville is to sing a song like "Annie Laurie" just as dain? tily and beautifully as she knows and then to do a travesty of it in the vain of the cabaret singer. She is quick as a flash to seize an oppor? tunity and does an original burlesque without any forethought. "The whole thing is knowing the temper of one's audience," declared Miss Cunningham. "And you do learn all about that in vaudeville.

I don't know of any experience, really, that is more valuable than a term on the cir? cuit. I have made it a practice on the first day out to see the act imme? diately preceding mine so that I could readjust my performance to get an immediate response from my audience." It was really her fine enunciation as much as anything else that started Miss Cunningham on her theatrical way. Erlanger, who is a martinet on the subject, heard her read lines from "The Pink Lady." He liked her voice. Every intonation was clear and carry? ing. But the part called for a violin selection.

"Can you play the violin?" asked Mr. Erlanger. but I'll learn was the re? tort. And she is to say, she Cecil Cunningham mastered the one tune that was neces? sary. She played it for thirty-five weeks and that is all she learned or ever expects to learn about the violin.

She was the original Pink Lady "on the road." Then she appeared in Henry Savage's play, "Somewhere i Else," and after that in the musical arce "Oh, I Say" and in "The Maid of Athens." She made a big hit in the title role of "Iolanthe" at the Casino. When war broke out she was in Paris with the Boston Grand Opera Com? pany. She sang in "Parsifal" and Barbiere di Siviglia" and other Italian operas. When the war abruptly ended the operatic tour she came back to America and spent a season in the Winter Garden, another in vaudeville and finally joined "The Greenwich Vil? lage Follies." Before coming to New York sh? sang in a church choir in St. Louii.

i Likes To Make 'Em Laugh and Cry Effie Ellsler believes with Joe son that a mingling of laughter tears is the best fare for the going public because it is true to ff I Personally, she likes comedy and th'nk it her forte, but providence, in'tv' form of the theatrical manager hiTl assiduously thrus' her Bentimenu! parts and made her wring tear? fro the audiences strung along the path of her extended career. She wag Ar I in "Old Lady 31" and has taken a num'. ber of elderly parts, but never any that appealed to her more than the mother in "The Phantom Legion," whie? opened at The Playhouse last week. "I am not a spiritualist in any gem? of the word," she said in discussing the play, "but I do believe there ii comfort for the bereaved in 'The Phan? tom People need to get rid Effie Elislvr of the idea that the boys killed in th? war are really gone. And the coming of the spirits of the three dead boy? to their mother is meant to prove that death does not separate people.

I don't believe Americans were ever more interested in spiritualism than they are at present, and while there is nothing morbid or occult about this play, it teaches a wholesome lesson. To some extent it recalls the story of the angels of Mons." Miss Ellsler, who is an extremely practical and wide-awake woman, thinks there is plenty of on the New York stage this season and that a little weeping won't hurt at all. "It isn't that we are forgetting th? war, by any means," she said. "But we are more like the French than any other to laugh and to erf at one and the same time. We dont like morbid things, but we do indulge in sentiment." "And you think people want to be reminded of the war?" "No! But this deals with the after? math, and you must remember that there will be a good many sorrowing mothers this Christmas.

Personally, I was glad to be given the part, because I hope I may be uble to give some real comfort where it is needed. What one feels about it is summed up in this quatrain, which is really the underlying" theme of the play: And through some mooned Valhalla there will pass Battalions and battalions scarred from hellj The army that was The legions who have suffered and' arc dust. "It will us to remember and tak? stock." Miss Ellsler comes of a theatrical family. She is frequently mistaken her mother, the elder Effie Kllsler. Her father was a well known manager and her mother was both actress and man? ager.

The histronic strain in her dates much further back than that. She il quite small, and it was her height that first gave her the idea the only for her on the was in comedy. But it finally transpired that the por? trayal of mother love was to be her strong card. After doing comedy suc? cessfully for five or six years -he found this out. She was a gri at success Angie, and oif and on she has been playing emotional for years.

She still feels that she has a lot to "Self-satisfaction is the end of all progress," she declared. "I'm tremen? dously enthusiastic abo-jt the stage and thrive in its atmosphere. I dont really think histrionic ability runs in families, except in very rare instances. Association has something to do with it, of course. For instance, as a young ster I used to run round to my father? theater, shove on scenes of my own 1 accord and act to an empty house.

From that you will gather that I was always keen about the stage. "I'm afraid I am rather singled out (for my ability to make people Ny. said Miss Ellsler. "It is a constant source of surprise to learn how people imagine that an actress lose? herself in the part she is playing. find quite the contrary is true and that the greatest steadiness and balance are needed in moments of emotion to keep up the pitch of tenseness and avoid sudden slump into sentimentality There is no letting go of one's self an emotional scene.

Absolute control (is tho first essential.".