Norma Phillips — Sans Grease Paint and Wig (1913) 🇺🇸
It was one of the days Norma Phillips was not at work before the camera in the role of “Our Mutual Girl.” It was an off-day, or morning rather, in which Norma had nothing to do but pose for the seamstress, who littered up one room of her tiny suite in a private hotel on East Eleventh street, with threads, and scissors, and pins, and a tape-measure in which Nigger, a little black dog with a busy tail and a glad bark, delighted to entangle himself and the seamstress’ patience, to the vexed amusement of his proprietress.
by Mabel Condon
It’s a little premature, however, for the mention of Nigger, as he didn’t come in until about what will be the eighth paragraph and the height of Norma’s enthusiasm regarding the making of the “Mutual Girl” series. Then shall he prance madly in, held in leash by a blue-uniformed page, who has spent a busy hour keeping up with Nigger’s race about lower New York, which performance Nigger’s mistress is pleased to call the little animal’s “constitutional.”
So Norma received alone. She was very pretty and very dainty in her transparent négligée of plaited rose chiffon, with its foundation of lace, through which showed an outline of the silken legs that danced their owner from the chorus of musical comedy to the specialty numbers in the “American Review” at the London Opera house.
A lacy cap with fur and ribbon edging allowed the blonde wavy hair beneath to show itself, over the forehead and ears of its wearer, and the rose-colored ribbon streamers gave the vivacious fingers something to play with in tense moments; for instance when Nigger and the tape-measure were. violently making each other’s acquaintance on the opposite side of non-sound-proof portiers.
Between fittings, Norma had been making Christmas presents. A box of pink ribbon and pink silk, with a spool of pink thread accusingly decorating the pink heap, offered proof as to this; besides the pink index finger of Norma’s left hand was pricked and Norma demonstrated her stoic courage by saying nothing at all about it.
What she talked about freely, enthusiastically and voluntarily though was the making of the picture series that will take her, a director, a camera-man, other necessary members of a company, and inevitably large numbers of screen gazers, on a year’s trip through New York and all the principal places abroad, and through the blossoming life of a little country girl, who is suddenly given a big slice of the world’s goods.
“It’s going to be a wonderfully successful thing; I know it, I feel it, and I won’t let anybody cast a shadow of doubt on any part of it. I never was so interested in anything in my life. I used to think that nothing could enthuse me like my dancing could, but this film takes all of me. I’ve stopped going out places and I breathe, eat and dream just the making of this picture. Oh, it’s wonderful to be so crazy about anything.”
There was a rush of something outside the door. Enter Nigger in a marathon around the room and yelps of inquiry as to who it was that had come in during his absence. His collar of bells tinkled, his silky tail beat tango-time on the floor, against the walls and table legs, on the sofa and chairs and the butterfly-bow behind his ears kept him energetic company.
“I got him in London and he’s lots of fun,” said Norma, straightening the bow, which matched those on a Campbell-kid dog and cat on the mantel and on the potted plant on the table.
“But I’m afraid he’s going to get me in trouble here at the hotel for he wakes up early in the morning and barks three times and that’s sure to wake up somebody who doesn’t want to be waked. Run along now, Nigger — (ad a boy.)” And Nigger lost no time in effacing himself behind the portiers.
“I’m enjoying myself today,” she resumed smoothing out the chiffon plaiting over one knee and clasping both hands over the smooth-out part. “Having ‘nothing to do but do nothing’ is a new sensation. Of course there’s the seamstress and the tailor for every day I’m not at the studio — you can’t imagine all the clothes, clothes, clothes I have to have. The other day I paid twenty-nine dollars for a pair of hose, gold ones, and there’s always something waiting around to be tried on or looked at. We don’t work on the picture every day, but when we do, we work hard; the other Sunday Mr. Griffith [D. W. Griffith] had us at the studio from eight until midnight. We had Lucile’s models and gowns there. The day in Lucile’s shop on Fifty-seventh street was full of interest as was the meeting with Paderewski in front of the music hall. Tomorrow I’m to meet Emmy Whelan as she gets off the Imperator [Transcriber’s Note: This might refer to German-American actress Emmy Wehlen arriving in New York on board the ocean liner “SS Imperator”]. The novelty of these things is what makes them so nice to do.”
There was a grr-r-r-r alarm from the next room and a succession of other sounds, such as might result from a small dog’s ambition to annihilate every object within sight and a given shortness of time. The hum of the sewing-machine stopped, so also did the grr-r-r-r and the other sounds, and Norma released the ribbon streamers of her boudoir cap and hoped Nigger would behave himself for five minutes.
“Picture work to me is really new,” she resumed, taking up a new thread of the subject. “I had never done anything but musical comedy until last spring. The American Review closed its season and I came home to see mother. I had no intention of staying and had already agreed to go back for the London opening in August. It was through Mr. Ritchie at the old Reliance studio I started to do anything in picture and chose the role of ‘maid’ to begin on. Then I was one of the memory-girls in ‘Ashes’ and had a bigger part in ‘Below the Dead-Line.’”
“By that time I was really interested and had made the discovery that I didn’t need any make-up in pictures to look natural. I was arranging to return to London when Mr. Aitkin began to plan the ‘Mutual Girl’ picture and I was asked to be ‘she.’ My mother and grandfather, who are all I have, are pleased that I decided to stay and my mother is coming up next week, to live with me. Our home is in Baltimore and my grandfather is the strict type of person who thinks it a disgrace to have anybody in the family connected with the stage. When I was going to school, I used to play in local stock during the holidays and when I finished school and started with Blanche Ring’s ‘Wall Street Girl,’ he disowned me. He has reinstated me in his respect now, as he considers pictures much nicer than the stage.”
The minute that followed was evidently one of glory for Nigger, judging from his glad yips and the sound of the trailing tape being whipped rapidly about the room.
Then came silence and the abrupt entrance of a disconsolate through the secretive portiers. He chose the middle of the floor in which to rest himself and his grieved feelings, and only regained his animation when it came time for his mistress to hold the company’s coat and accompany her to the door.
Norma hoped that the elevator boy hadn’t left the car with nobody in it; Nigger promptly investigated the vicinity of the elevator shaft and trotted back with vindication of the elevator boy in his assuring trot.
“Sometimes, when he goes to lunch —” begun Norma.
A joyful yelp greeted the word, as the elevator door slid open — and then closed — and Norma and Nigger were lost to sight.
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“A Daughter of Pan” Charming
The grace of Helen Gardner has wide scope in the three reels of “A Daughter of Pan” which is a feature on the Warners’ program. As Dusa, Miss Gardner dances through the story in the wildness of nature, which is hers by right of forest birth and direct descent from the Grecian god Pan. Dusa is supposed to be cursed with an’ ugliness of face that would prohibit her acquaintance with any person of gentle birth. Jestyx, philosopher, tells the Grecian court of the wild girl and Diomed, the king’s son, determines to find her.
He does and becomes strangely enamored with her. Althea, of the forest tribe, loves Dusa and follows her when she goes to the court to find her lover. The king is horrified at the preference of his son for Dusa and the latter goes to the old philosopher who tells her that a long sleep in a wonderful lily will transform her into a beauteous being. Dusa creeps within the lily’s petals and the flower is picked for decoration at the king’s palace. When all are gathered about the mystery-flower, its petals open to reveal Dusa, in radiant white and with the face and figure of a goddess. Spurning the advances of the king’s son she turns to her forest lover and with him, flees away over the hills to the wild forest land which is her home.
An intense moment in “A Daughter of Pan,” a Warner’s Feature release
The transformation.
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A Picture of 1950
Romaine Fielding of the Lubin Las Vegas, N. M. studio is making a five reel dramatic picture which deals with imaginary conditions in 1950. A thrilling fight in the air is an important scene in the spectacle. Three aviators with their dirigibles, biplanes and monoplane were engaged and “Dare Devil” Fielding participated in this mid-air fight. Two thousand supers were employed amongst whom could be found the entire roll of the Elk Lodge of Las Vegas, who turned in their earnings toward the building of a new B. P. O. E. Club house. A holiday was declared in the town and the entire population turned out to witness the strange and thrilling scene.
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Consuelo Bailey in Pictures
Consuelo Bailey is the latest recruit from the “legitimate” to the movies. She signed a contract recently with the Mutual Film Corporation to play leading parts in the photoplays of the Reliance brand. Miss Bailey has never played in motion pictures before. She has been a leading woman for several years for Charles Frohman, Harrison Grey Fiske, the Schuberts, William A. Brady and H. H. Frazee, playing the leads in “Tangled Lives,” “Baby Mine,” “The Toymaker of Neuremburg,” opposite Maude Adams in “The Jesters,” and was in the all star revival of “Jim the Penman.”
Collection: Motography Magazine, December 1913