Marie Blanche and the Movies (1921) 🇬🇧

An interview with the Pantomime Favourite who has appeared in two films.

There was something very homely about Marie Blanche’s dressing-room at Covent Garden: a sense of familiarity and comfort rarely to be found in theatrical dressing rooms. A fire burned cheerfully in the grate, beside which were two huge easy chairs, and over the fire a kettle sang merrily. For it was half-past five or so, the time when Miss Blanche takes her evening meal, and already her big, sensible table was laid for dinner.

Away at the end of the room, half-hidden by a screen, as if it really had no right to be there, was the star’s dressing-table, altar of mysterious and alluring rites! Otherwise the apartment might have been an ordinary living room. And yet, a little turn to the right, outside the door, and you were in the land of make-believe! — on the vast stage where, a few weeks ago, Tristan and Isolde told their deathless love in music as immortal, and where to-day Cinderella goes to the ball.

She Makes You Feel at Home.

In a way, Marie Blanche is like her dressing-room, or rather, her dressing-room is expressive of herself. She, too, is homely — not in appearance, of course, but in personality. She is sincerely anxious to make you feel at home, to answer any questions you may wish to ask her, to be as obliging and kind as she possibly can. And in her endeavour to achieve these pleasant results, she quite forgets to be spectacular.

“A Good Sort.”

Yet she is spectacular. Her splendid height, her fine proportions (on this occasion discreetly hidden by a grey velvet robe), her fair hair, and pleasant, laughing face, radiating health and good temper, see to that. But I think, of all her charms, the one that shines the brightest is her golden heart. In the halting, colloquial manner people have of describing a universal favourite, she is invariably referred to as “a good sort.”

Films.

Miss Blanche and I having comfortably installed ourselves on either side of the fireplace, the proceedings opened favourably with the star’s assurance that really and truly she was very interested indeed in the subject I had come about — films.

Letters from Film Fans.

“Though I’ve appeared in only two,” she added “‘The Great Impostor’ and ‘The Elusive Pimpernel.’ But I’ve just had another offer of film work, and I shall probably appear in a picture after I’ve finished in this pantomime. Funnily enough, I had more letters about my Lady Blakeney, in the latter film, than I have received since I appeared in Cinderella. Only this afternoon two autograph books were brought to me to sign, and each of them belonged to a film ‘fan.’ One was most exciting, containing Mary Pickford’s signature, and all sorts of screen celebrities’ autographs.”

Things We Might Do.

Although Miss Blanche has a great interest in film work, her interest by no means blinds her to faults in film production (especially British film production), and errors in film acting. In the latter respect she is her own severest critic.

“I nearly wept when I saw myself as Lady Blakeney,” she told me. “I was too nervous to face the trade show, so I went out to King’s Cross to see the film later!”

“But surely strips of the film were run off in the projection room day by day, while the picture was in the making?” I interposed. Miss Blanche shook her head. “No,” she said, “they don’t seem to have that admirable practice over here, and yet it would be such a help to the artistes, and assist one to correct so many little mistakes. I think, too, that it would be a great help if British producers followed the example of the Americans in having several sets built on the. stage at once, so that consecutive scenes might be shot without undue intermission.” You’ve no idea how difficult it is to remember exactly what you did and what, you were in a scene shot, let us say, five weeks ago! Which reminds me, I do think every film artiste should keep a dress chart. I’ve known an important, bit of film to be scrapped and taken all over again, just because some member of the cast had omitted some small but important item in the costume he had worn earlier in the picture.”

Our Tendency to Over-Act.

What do you consider to be the greatest faults British film artistes have to overcome?” I asked. “A tendency to over-act,” replied Miss Blanche, adding, “and I think we have yet to master the art of make-up.”

Miss Blanche confessed that she had experienced certain difficulty, or rather, discomfort during her outdoor work for pictures, because, she said, she had felt “so silly,” so out of her element.

Stage Experience.

“You do not consider stage experience helpful to the screen?” I suggested.

“No,” she concurred. “I think one is much better without it. But a stage artiste can learn many useful lessons from the films. Personally I have acquired some useful hints about the value of repose, and the art of facial expression from them.”

The Part She Wants to Play.

As I was about to take my departure, Miss Blanche told me that the part she would like to play best of all in pictures would be a light comedy role — that she felt such a part would suit her far better than heavy drama — and from her manner I fancy she will yet give us such a role — in Marie Blanche’s best light comedy vein. But all the same, Covent Garden’s principal boy has for her film favourite Pauline Frederick, whom she specially admired in — “Sapho!”

May Herschel Clarke.

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A new Hepworth film — Mrs. Erricker's Reputation

One of the latest productions that Cecil M. Hepworth has completed.

This photo-play has a splendid cast of well-known Hepworth favourites.

A scene from Mrs. Erricker's Reputation, adapted from Thomas Cobb’s novel. This photograph shows Gwynne Herbert on the left, and Eileen Dennes on the right.

James Carew and Eileen Dennes in a scene from Mrs. Erricker’s Reputation. Above can be seen, from left to right. Eileen Dennes, Alma Taylor, and Gerald Ames.

Collection: Picture Show Magazine, February 1920