A Choice of Evils
“Would you marry her just because she’s wealthy? Don’t you know she has a questionable past?”
“Well, what of it? If I don’t marry her I shall have a questionable future.”
Picture Land Flattery
Editor’s Note: Here is a story for young girls with movie ambitions. In fact it’s a crackerjack of a story for women in general. I do not believe the public, outside of Los Angeles, realizes that the favorite form for gaining a lady’s favor is to tell her she ought to be in pictures.
Girls strange to Los Angeles fall hard for this style of flattery, very often with serious final result. Designing men quite frequently bunco the fair and trusting creatures and “those who know” declare it is surprising how the ladies like the movie flattery.
But here is the story, true to nature and only intended for the eyes of the fair sex.
BY RICHMOND.
Young women who desire to break into the movies should be prepared to take a little “breaking-in” themselves unless they indeed are fortunate and bump into a man instead of some of the rat horde that infests movieland. No line of business in the world combines more petty jealousies than creep through the Picture World. Men play the women against one another; women play men and the whole bunch forever conjure to hold the upper hand.
The following recital, by a clever French woman who sought a place in Filmdom, is typical. This woman was on the point of leaving for New York, where she admitted that it would be necessary for her to wear scant clothing in front of assembled multitudes at the Winter Garden, but better she thought than performing same for the benefit of sundry individuals who pass the girls along according as new faces and opportunity offer. The woman in question was French, of superb figure and doubtful picture talent. She was a fine dancer, also a singer. She told of being invited to the home of a well known Hollywood character, Prince Troubetskoy and wife, who recently departed presumably for Europe.
Troubetskoy ranks as one of the greatest sculptors in the world and his Hollywood home saw many a high jinx, intrigue of love and gambling revel. The Prince, a good natured old fellow, cared not what anyone else did, so long as he could gamble and not be obliged to eat meat. His wife enjoyed the society of young men, though not many of them seemed to break their necks courting her favor. The Princess didn’t get by very well, not any too sweet with a little tea aboard. So our lady of Film ambition meets a number of men who lounge in and out partaking of the Troubetskoy hospitality.
Says the first:
“How comes it, Madam, with those eyes you are not in Pictures. Surely there must be some mistake. Now I am the leading man of the ⸺ ⸺ Company. I am sure I could get you a chance if you would like to try. But of course we must go out to talk it over; a little dinner perhaps tomorrow night in my apartment we—”
“But, my dear sir, what is there to be talked of?” The Leading man seems to think the lady dull and drifts away.
Then the second.
“Who—— that fellow told you he could get you a part? Why he’s only the leading man. I am a director. Leave it to me. Just you and I will go out for a little dinner tomorrow night and talk things over—”
“But, my dear sir, the leading man also asked me to go out with him to dinner, or come to his apartment so the business could be settled—”
Still a third man.
“Did he say he was the director? I am the director. He is only the assistant director. He has no say. I will fix you up, you black eyed beauty. Tomorrow night if you meet me, I’ll have a fine big car, so warm inside. We will take a little trip, you and I, oh, just to talk over some details, I—”
Madam speaks again.
“But, my dear sir, three times now tonight have I been asked out to dinner to see what shall be done for me to get a part. Does one always have to eat dinner before getting into pictures?”
A fourth man.
“Piffle, I am manager of the entire company. Those fellows haven’t a word to say about it; just bunking you. Come with me to my little cabin up in laurel canyon tomorrow night. It is quiet and we will not be disturbed while talking over the business. I—”
But still a fifth.
“Don’t let those men kid you. I have put up all the capital. My father is a rich man in South America. When it comes down to it, these fellows work for me and, though I don’t interfere much, naturally I would hate to see a girl that looks like you get left—”
The madam talks once more.
“I cannot go to dinner with you. I have been asked by the four other men. I might take a chance with the leading man because he’s half way young. Though everyone says he doesn’t count, if I had to eat dinner with someone I guess I’d pick out the youngest and let you ‘burned outs’ try your luck somewhere else. But I’m eating by myself tomorrow night.”
Two or three camera men and some publicity agents possibly invited the lady out to dine, but the ones she seemed to remember began with the leading man and ended with the fellow who said he owned the bankroll that kept the company on the map.
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