I am tired of hearing over and over again the miraculous tale of how Tyrone Power rose from rags and poverty to riches and fame.

Like a Horatio Alger hero.

Or a Cinderella.

I know it's a good story, but I'm tired of it for the simple reason that I know it isn't true.

Y'see, confidentially, young Mr. Power, a most charming fellow and not one bit of a hypocrite is the prince of bluffers.

Blague--or if you prefer the Anglo-Saxon word--is his leading motif.

He spins yearns about himself. He does it deliberately and gets away with it because, after all, he is Tyrone Power and he has that grand front that if you confront him with something others might deem detrimental, he can give you a mocking smile and admit it. You saw him in his own likeness in LLOYD'S OF LONDON and IN OLD CHICAGO.

The truth is that he planned his interviews long before he ever appeared on the screen. Years ago, while a soda clerk in a Cincinnati drug store, he used to read fan stories. He deduced that many stories made the stars ridiculous.

Now, when he granted interviews, his stories would be full of pathos! (That he�s attaining the interviewing state went without saying.) He'd dictate the CINDERELLA theme and never let fans feel anything but sheer delight over his rise from rags to royal raiment. "You always have the public with you when you get them in sympathetic mood," was his conclusion.

You've heard the story of his "starvation" days while seeking work in New York. Walking the streets after midnight in stocking feet, because the "borrowed" pumps were too tight. Longing for something to eat. His tongue hanging out. Yes?

Well, in answer I have been credibly informed that Tyrone's father left quite a considerable estate--something like $30,000, as well as an apartment house in Cincinnati.

Are fond families so callous that they'll allow a child to starve amide plenty? Are intelligent children so stupid as to seek theatrical engagements in a starving condition? "No one bruises or starves himself to make himself fit for labor," is common sense. Tyrone's starvation and streetwalking is insanity.

Mrs. Power once said to me: "Tyrone would never take anything from me while looking for film work. 'No mother,' he'd say, 'I'll wait. I'll get a call.' And he'd struggle along until a call came from a studio. He always maintained that he'd get along on his own."

I think he was bluffing even then, for "getting along on your own" is impossible in Hollywood or in New York. "Girl's Dormitory," came about because quite a few were interested in him. Don Ameche and Janet Gaynor were friends of his. And it was through them that he got his first big part, in LADIES IN LOVE.

In a little more than a year Tyrone Power has proved himself the smartest actor in Hollywood. A break in the movies gave him an opportunity to put his smartness to the test.

At this moment he is halfway up the mountain of cinematic acclaim. It is a critical point, as he not so long ago informed me. To stick halfway up is well-nigh superhuman. To reach the summit is all but miraculous.

Tyrone is not losing his hold; he is soaring to the heights for he knows all the tricky moves.

Instead of the novice many believe him to be, Tyrone has been battering at Hollywood's portals seven or eight years--since he was a lad of 16.

The studios saw nothing in him. Several years ago he had a Little Theatre in Santa Barbara. A girl I know spoke to her Hollywood agent about Tyrone. The agent took one look at the ardent Thespian and said he wasn't interested.

Tyrone's first bit was obtained through the gallant services of his friend Tom Brown, who had just been given the lead in TOM BROWN OF CULVER. Tom Brown, Dick Cromwell and Johnny Arledge were always willing t offer a helping hand. In those days, of course, they were leads while Tyrone was an extra. (Today he is a potential star, while they are gone with the wind. Thus do the gods plague us.) One good turn deserves another I always say. Tyrone saw that Tom got a small part in his big film, IN OLD CHICAGO.

Tyrone has constantly stated that his appearance in Los Angeles in Katharine Cornell's JOAN OF ARC was instrumental in gaining him a movie contract. Bluffing again! I believe his part in the play consisted of carrying spear.

Getting signed up by 20th Century Fox brought him in close contact with three lovely glamour girls, Janet Gaynor, Loretta Young and Sonja Henie. Now Tyrone knew, even as he knew that the Cinderella motif was important in his life stories, that the affection and attention of important women would surround him with an aura.

Each girl has aided Tyrone in a different way.

Loretta likes to test her power over attractive leading men. Especially does she enjoy to see how far that power goes in taking him away from another girl. The Power telephone rang incessantly from the Young abode, but Loretta for once failed to get her man.

All the time, Tyrone was paying ardent attention to Sonja. But Loretta offered him prestige, and I think he decided he should be seen now and then with her.

If Loretta afforded Tyrone Prestige, Sonja gave him Publicity. Her movie acclaim was simultaneous with his. I don't accuse Tyrone of cashing in on Sonja�s world wide publicity campaign. But it did him no harm.

Everywhere that Sonja went, Tyrone was sure to go. At a lunch given for her and the magazine writers, Tyrone was present. He had been invited, naturally, but he did not have to attend. Don Ameche was also invited but diplomatically stayed home.

When a press photo was being taken, with Sonja in the center of the writers, I humorously remarked to Tyrone that he ought to stand by the star. He took my banter for a good suggestion and moved right behind Sonja, smiling archly into the camera.

The Henie-Power love affair broke up very suddenly. I was told that Sonja could not rely on what Tyrone told her. The rumor was planted that he had "walked out" on the Norwegian patineuse. This is incorrect. No one would do so ungentlemanly a thing.

Full three quarters of Hollywood's males would break a leg to get the chance of being seen with Sonja. She�s swell. A sincere, unspoiled, charming girl.

Prestige and Publicity having satiated him, Tyrone turned again to Janet. Her influence over him is just now showing itself in a most beneficial manner.

Janet knows how success can distort a fellow's mind. She is the only star in Hollywood who never let it "get" her. I think she let Tyrone have a free rein, to experience what fame is like. He has experienced it and is back where he likes most to be--in her company, with her advice and friendship. Janet's friendship, I have no hesitation in saying, saved Tyrone form slipping from his halfway hold on the mountain of popularity.

When he first stared work at 20th Century Fox he was eager to be liked, eager to please. He'd pay daily visits to various departments of the studio, and one incessant question was on his lips: "Do you think success will harm me? Will you tell me the first moment you suspect me of going Hollywood? Let me know, please."

No, this wasn't sheer bluff. He meant it. They all do. But should you later inform them that they are suffering from the virus of superficial emotion they'd never speak to you again.

After LLOYDS OF LONDON, Tyrone made it impossible for any one to warn him. He stopped his daily visits; he refrained from asking advice.

He has an inner sense of being some one of importance--I mean socially, mentally and spiritually. You�ve met the type before. Everything that comes his way he regards as his just deserts.

Bluff? It grew out of his making himself the ting he told people he was.

Has Tyrone finally got wise to himself? Has he seen the danger he was in? Has he destroyed the imaginary self he created for the movie world? Has he cracked that shell of sheer bluff with which he surrounded himself?

With his mocking smile and humor, his undeniable good looks and attraction for women, Tyrone knows best!

FROM THE SAME ISSUE...
How'd you like to attend the wedding of the famous Marie Antoinette to her kingly husband, Louis XVI, in the chapel of Versailles amid all the pomp and ceremony of pre-revolutionary France?

Come, come, you say, let's talk of more modern things--of the the wedding of Wally and Windsor--that was just a year ago--and don�t ask such foolish questions.

Ye-es? Well, I went to the wedding last week, or what looked very much like what I have always read the wedding was like--on stage twenty seven at Metro Goldwyn Mayer, where they are putting the story of MARIE ANTOINETTE into gelatin form, with director Woody Van Dyke as its guiding genius.

Norma Shearer is, of course, playing the part of the queen whose name has come down through history. Robert Morley, an English actor, is the little king. Tyrone Power is Count Axel de Fersen.

When I entered stage 27, I found them lighting the candles--lots of them--with long, thin papers. Director Van Dyke slouched in a chair, looking, I thought, rather bored. No one spoke to him, or even ventured within his immediate vicinity.

The wedding procession, I was told, had been accomplished a few days before, with hundreds of extras, and with cameras swinging eighty feet in the air. Today�s shot was practically a close up; there were probably a hundred people on the set. Just as the candles were well alight, Marie and Louis went away, and another Marie and Louis took their places. The first had been stand-ins.

Now we had Norma Shearer and Robert Morley in person. Van Dyke bestirred himself, and called "Quiet please!" through a tiny microphone which he held in his hand. Complete quiet was not instantly forthcoming, so he repeated his command, adding, "I hope it's not asking to roll, when somebody piped up, "There's a candle out." "That's just a swell," muttered Van Dyke. The maestro of the taper came forward, lit the offending candle, and the scene was taken, the archbishop reading the service in Latin and waving a large feather over the couple.

"All right," said Van Dyke, "Now we'll do it in English." There was laughter, but Van Dyke was not amused. What do you mean, there's no translation on the set? Get one!" Alarmed people scurried, while a halt was called Van Dyke doesn't like halts. One of his favorite phrases is, "Well, what are we waiting for?" He rose and paced finally joining a group of people conversing animatedly.

I encountered Father O'Donnell, the genial Roman Catholic priest, who is technical adviser on the religious ritual scenes. He was interesting on the subject of screening such scenes. "There can be no intelligent objection to screening such things if they are absolutely accurate. That's what I am here for. To see that they are faithfully portrayed."

All this time, Norma Shearer and Robert Morley had been sitting on the altar steps. It was much easier than making their way to their portable dressing rooms, dragging the weight of their fabulous costumes.

[ back ]