George Periolat — A Master of Make-Up (1917) 🇺🇸
At the American studios in Santa Barbara there is a young man of twenty-eight who is conceded to be one of the greatest make-up artists that the screen has ever known. Of course you all know his name — George Periolat. The characters he portrays on the screen are not merely make-ups, they are living creations.
by Dick Willis
The ordinary actor who is forced to add age to his features in a picture thinks by adding a few lines around the eyes and mouth and applying whitening to the hair that the trick is accomplished. Of course the lines show very plainly on the screen, and the audience is not deceived in the least as to the correct age of the player. They realize it is an imitation, and therefore they can’t really get into the player’s characterization as that terrible make-up is always looming up before them. With Periolat it is different. He is a wonder at the art of making up, and when any actor is in doubt at the American studios as to how much of this and how little of that should be applied to the features in order to attain a certain sought-for characteristic, they are sent up to dressing-room number thirty-four to see Periolat, and he straightens out their tangles in a jiffy.
Periolat has also devoted his entire stage career to the study of make-up, and has perfected himself in the art. To-day there are only a very few motion picture artists who can lay claim to being able to make up for any character and get by with it. George is one of these few. He goes about his work in the most peculiar manner I have ever seen. He is an expert at drawing, and when given a character to impersonate, he draws his impression of that character from some person he has seen in his travels who looks the part as he imagines it to be. Then he makes up to look like the character he has drawn — not like George Periolat would look with a few whiskers, lines and mascaro.
He has traveled almost all around the world, and has seen most every type imaginable. For two years he served on an ocean liner which traded with China, Japan, Turkey, France, England, Germany, and several other nations. After he gave up life on the bounding waters, George decided to study law, and he did for several months. This gave him the opportunity of observing the many types that are brought before the attention of the court. Traveling road shows furnished Periolat the rest of his training. He has given his entire time while in the theatrical business to perfecting make-ups. Even when he played juveniles (for George is a very good-looking fellow off the screen), he was studying the art of changing one’s appearance between shows and in spare time. He has often played as many as three characters in one play.
It is a most interesting sight to watch George after getting the story of the feature thoroughly in his head. He sits back in his easy chair in his spacious dressing-room, and, closing his eyes, thinks for quite some time. Suddenly he will come to life with a start and shout, “I have it.” He will then proceed directly to his desk, and getting his sketching pad and pencil, start to work. It doesn’t take him long before he finishes a remarkably clever picture, and he will most likely say as he shows it to you, “Now this is my impression of the old skinflint in this story.” If you don’t know Periolat, you will be inclined to look at him with surprise, as much as to say, “Of course, that looks like a miserly old cuss, but not like you.”
You can rest assured, however, you will see the character on the screen that you do on the sketching pad and George Periolat will play the part. He will study his drawing and outline his make-up accordingly. Just so much putty to shape the nose like that of the character, a little more, together with high lighting to raise the cheek bones, the proper shading on the cheeks to make them drawn and hollow-looking. No matter what the character looks like, George has the necessary equipment to make up like him.
He makes all of his own wigs, which is quite an accomplishment in itself, when you consider the fact that a sixty-dollar wig does not look the least bit better than any of those he turns out. He makes them so it is impossible to distinguish them from a natural head of hair on the screen. His crepe hair for whiskers is all worked out by him, and when applied looks as if it were really growing out of the skin, not merely stuck onto his face.
This can be seen from the accompanying illustrations. His lines for age are all worked in naturally. He bases the lines in his face from those that appear most prominent on the character he has drawn.
Periolat has been connected with the American Film Company for several years, and his present contract with that concern has another year to run. During his engagement with this concern he has contributed to the screen some very remarkable characterizations.
The only rival to George’s make-up box is his wardrobe. He has most every conceivable piece of wearing apparel that v ever invented and enjoys the largest dressing-room at the American studios for this very reason. He needs just twice the amount of room any other player needs on account of the room required for his wigs, make-up boxes and wardrobe. Then there is the desk which George must have so he can do his drawing properly.
He has played lawyers of all kinds, from the sharp-featured skinflints to the lovable old reliable family advisory, old farmers, priests, ministers, western bad men, gypsies, corporation heads, Greeks, Irishmen, Hebrews, Indians, Arabs, Frenchmen, and every other nationality and character one can imagine. “Geek of the Forty Faces,” never had anything on George Periolat of the American. One look at the hundred of faces he has portrayed will make friend Cleek look like an amateur. If any character comes up at the studio that requires careful handling, the director will say:
“Let George do it.”
And George does it.
All of which is remindful of the fact that the art of make-up has reached its present state of high development via the screen route, and not on the stage. Clever make-up never was so necessary in the old days, and like in all other cases necessity was the mother of invention. The lighting of stages even in this day is not nearly so brilliant as the lighting indispensable to filming a picture, and light acts as a magnifier which must be reckoned with most earnestly when one’s face is to come within range of a moving picture camera. Many a good stage make-up would look ridiculously crude in a photoplay. The entire treatment of facial change must be highly perfect or else the movie artist loses the advantage of “looking the part.” The actor or actress of the film must adapt his or her face to an appearance foreign to its natural contour, and yet it must be so adeptly done that the audience cannot see the manufactured lines. The performer on the stage need not worry so excessively on this score because he is not exposed to so much tell-tale light.
“Before motion pictures came into existence, make-up was a quite secondary consideration in most any characterization, but nowadays many a hit is made entirely by make-up artistry,” declares Mr. Periolat. “Indeed, the photoplay art has had little else but highly beneficial effects from its inception, and it has been the best school for Thespians ever founded.”
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This is George Periolat, but you’d never think it
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George as he can make himself up
George as he is in private life
Collection: Photoplay Magazine, July 1917 (The Photo-Play Journal for July, 1917)
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