The Expressions of Robert McKim (1920) 🇺🇸

Robert McKim, the villain who has probably, on the screen, ruined more homes and broken more hearts than any other man, used to be an advertising salesman. It was in 1915 that Robert first heard the call of the clicking shutter, and started appearing in pictures.
His first part was Dr. Hardy in “The Disciple,” with Bill Hart. He scored a great success in that part, and has been playing heavy roles ever since with increasing success.
He is undoubtedly one of the most convincing portrayers of suave villain roles known to the screen.
“I like to play such characterisations,” he candidly confesses.
A Fine Singer.
Robert McKim really owes his introduction to the films to his big baritone voice. He used to sing as a soloist in a San Francisco church. Someone who heard him sought an introduction to him, and on seeing him was convinced that Robert’s personality would make him a footlight favourite. This prophecy has proved correct. His subtle, sneering smile, and his narrowed eyes, send a cold shiver all over one. But in spite of his success as a screen villain, Robert is a jolly good fellow out of the studio, and popular with everybody.
This handsome and “dangerous” young man is just over six feet in height, with black hair and brown eyes. He is a native of California, and was born in San Jacinto. He was educated in the San Francisco Public Schools, and he made his first appearance before the public from the stage at the Alcazar Theatre.
On the screen Robert McKim has supported, in addition to William S. Hart, Dorothy Dalton, Charles Ray, Enid Bennett, and many others. He has always been the heavy villain.
One of the latest productions in which he appears is “The Woman in Room Thirteen,” which stars Pauline Frederick. He does so many mean things in this that picture-goers cannot refrain from involuntary hisses. But Robert McKim doesn’t mind much, for he is so far away that he can’t hear them. Still, if these picture -goers met him face to face they would be sure to like him.
A Wonderful Power of Expression.
Robert is married, and his wife is named Dorcas Matthews. She also plays villainous characters, yet in real life they are the happiest and most lovable couple in the world.
Robert leaves his wicked eyes and that tantalising, sarcastic smile of his at the studio, and when he is at home it is replaced by a hearty boyish laugh, which is irresistibly contagious.
Bob’s mother was once watching a picture in which he was the meanest kind of a mean villain, and a man sitting next to the old lady kept commenting on this. The mother could stand it no longer, and presently, leaning over to him, she said, in a sweet, broken voice:
“I beg your pardon, but he’s not really bad like that. He’s my baby boy.”
McKim has a wonderful power of expression in his eyes. He is able to hold the entire scene by a slow, deliberate glance of the eyes.
“The eyes and the mouth can convey a world of meaning by their expressions,” said Robert on a recent occasion. “I try to see the character I am portraying, and I think of just how rascally and mean that man would be in these circumstances. One must suppress his own individuality and lose himself in the role to succeed in presenting these emotions so clearly that there is no chance of the spectators mistaking the real significance.
“A villain is usually the centre of a lot of thrilling situations, and there is opportunity for good work; but, believe me, it has been a long, hard grind to become the meanest man in the world.”
His mother said to him the other day that it was hard enough to have him bad in every picture, but she wished she didn’t have to attend his funeral in each one.
This, of course, is the natural end of every screen villain. He always pays the price at the end of the last reel.
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Robert McKim, the screen villain, trying to ensnare a victim by his subtle smile.
If you want to write to him, address your letter:
Robert McKim,
Goldwyn Studios,
Culver City,
California.
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Photo Captions:
- Sinister trickery.
- His polished wickedness.
- A dangerous man.
- His wicked eyes.
- A great schemer.
- Cool and calculating.
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(Special to the “Picture Show.”)
Collection: Picture Show Magazine, July 1920