Craufurd Kent — “Screen Stars I Have Wooed — and Won!” — 02 (1920) 🇬🇧
These confessions of a leading man who left England to play in films In America will be read with great interest by all picturegoers. Craufurd Kent [Crauford Kent] is well able to speak on the subject of love-making, for he has been the central character in a large number of romantic scenes, and he has captured the hearts of the simple-hearted girl, the temperamental, the woman of the world, the beautiful doll, and, in fact, every type of femininity. Read what this prince of heart stealers has to say on this ever-absorbing topic.
No. 2.
by Craufurd Kent.
Pauline Frederick, however regal she may appear on the screen, is essentially the “good fellow” behind it. She has an inborn talent for making friends, from the highest officials and directors down to the humblest studio hands, and the opinion of the latter especially, as any film personage will tell you, is “the acid test.” To them all she is just “Polly,” if not in name at least in spirit, and every man Jack of them love and respect her. Not least among her social accomplishments is her charming habit of making you feel that you are the one person in the world she most wants to see.
“Why, Craufurd!” she will say, “l am glad to see you — now the party is quite complete!” And she makes everyone feel the same.
To illustrate her kindness of heart I cannot do better than quote a little incident that occurred during the making of “Double Crossed.” You may remember the scene in which she and I wind some wool. There was much merriment at the studio over the domestic spectacle we presented, especially over my remark that I really enjoyed the task my “wife” had given me, and at last Polly remarked:
“Really, Craufurd, you do it so well, that I’m going to make you a scarf!”
She kept her word, too, and the result was one of the finest scarves I have ever worn, for, as you know, she is a famous knitter.
Witty Women.
Pauline Frederick’s scenes seldom need rehearsing, which makes such a difference, and I can only say that her talent for love-making approaches genius. Perhaps because she has the saving grace of a keen sense of humour, and never over-acts her impassioned scenes.
Another very witty woman with whom I have played is Emily Stevens. I supported her in “Kildare of Storm.” On the stage she invariably portrays “catty” women, but her roles for the screen have always been of a sympathetic nature. She is a wonderful actress, which is, perhaps, not surprising in view of the fact that she is closely related to the “Ellen Terry of America” — Mrs. Fiske, who has also appeared in pictures. “Tess of the D’Urbervilles” was one, you may recollect. Miss Stevens, her niece (alas, for film leading men!) is now back on the stage.
The Magic of Youth.
Marguerite Clark’s methods of love-making are absolutely expressive of the woman herself — sweet, childlike, delicate as a flower. With her, youth is instinctive. As you see her on the screen, so is she in private life. She looks just like a kiddie — why, bless me! she takes ones in shoes! And that is why she is always provided with such girlish roles, and why she fills them so perfectly; she is a girl herself, irrespective of her woman’s years, and it would be folly for her to portray the mature in life when she has all the magic of youth at her command. Happy Marguerite!
“Come Out of the Kitchen,” in which I played with her, was made just two or three months after her marriage to Mr. Palmerson Williams, and I think the fact that the mansion it was taken in was situated in a small town near New Orleans gave the picture an additional interest in her eyes, in view of her husband’s home being in that city.
The actual business of taking moving pictures must have been something of a novelty in those parts, for people drove in from miles around to watch us at work, while the school children were given a half holiday in our honour! ‘Gene O’Brien [Eugene O’Brien] caused much feminine heart -stirring, I can tell you. Everybody looked at him. Awfully good fellow, ‘Gene.
A tender scene with Olive Thomas, who represents the sweet, simple-minded girl.
Another star of the delicate, girlish type is Vivian Martin, with whom I played in “Little Miss Brown.” A very sweet little woman.
Of my love-making with dainty, golden-haired Billie Burke I can say little, for my role in her picture, “Good Gracious, Annabelle,” was a light comedy part, in more than half of which I played the tipster, who did not make love to her at all in the present sense of the phrase.
A Real Love Story.
Ethel Clayton is what one may term the “one man woman.” She is most attractive, with hair of a sort of blonde-Titian shade; very blue eyes, and awfully pretty colouring; and she is very feminine in her clothes; but she does not submerge herself in a love scene to the same extent that some actresses do, however true-to-life her performance may appear to the audience (and, of course, she is an excellent actress).
When I acted with her in “His Wife” (another version of “Dollars and the Woman”), she would let me take her in my arms and kiss her, according to the requirements of the scenario, but somehow she never really melted into the romantic spirit of the thing. This, I think, was partly due to the fact that her director-husband, Joseph Kaufman, was alive at the time, and as they were very, very much attached to each other, I fancy she could never quite sink her real love story in the reel one. Even now I believe she is much the same. The death of her husband was one of the greatest tragedies of filmdom, and it nearly lulled one of the finest and most charming women you could possibly meet.
A “Good Pal.”
The appeal of Alice Brady is not so much to the lover as to the friend in man — generally speaking, of course. The exception exists in her delightful husband, to whom she is devoted, and in whom she finds all the romance she requires. Hers is the happy, hearty, self-reliant type, with her “Hullo, Craufurd, give me a cigarette,” and her jolly, harum-scarum, boisterous ways. Always good-tempered, the studio resounds to her singing — she has an awfully fine voice — and her merry laughter whenever she is about.
A “good pal” is Alice — a man couldn’t wish for a better. And yet, strangely enough, in her pictures, such as The Ordeal of Rosetta, “The Knife,” “The Trap,” and “Her Better Half,” I have always been cast for the villain, whose love-making was to be repulsed rather than desired!
(More of these interesting revelations next week.)
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A tender scene with Olive Thomas, who represents the sweet, simple-minded girl.
The old story in a different setting. Craufurd falls in love with Marguerite Clark in “Come Out of the Kitchen.”
Collection: Picture Show Magazine, September 1920
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