Tully Marshall — Everyone’s Ag’n Him! (1919) 🇺🇸
It is a terrible thing the way the motion picture profession is imposed upon. A lot of young upstarts who think that the art of acting is a cinch and the dramatic profession a bed of roses are continually trying to butt into the silent drama, without experience, education, ability or any other qualifications whatsoever. They just appear and say, “I want to be an actor,” and think that the statement makes them one.
by Arabella Boone
Take Tully Marshall for example. He played around, idled away his time and was nearly five months old — think of it! — before he made his first appearance before the footlights. Of course he has worked pretty steadily ever since, but that does not give him the right to take the bread out of the mouths of those who have given their entire lives to the drama.
You can’t expect anyone who started so late in life to know anything about acting. I have talked to several players who have graced the screen or stage for a period of a couple of years, and they tell me themselves and assure me upon their personal word of honor, that they could act rings around Tully. They said that Tully just went on and behaved like a person did in ordinary life. Why, he didn’t do any acting at all. One pointed out where, in a single picture. Tully had five opportunities to heave his chest and two opportunities to emote, but didn’t do either. The person went on to say that Tully was playing the part of a pawnbroker and the way he did it was no different from fifty real pawnbrokers he (the person) had seen while waiting for some studio to appreciate his ability.
Of course Tully is one of those bad lads of the celluloid. He doesn’t get a chance to wear the front of his shin open, slick back his hair and win all the fights. He has to act nasty, foreclose the mortgage, rob the safe, spank the baby and do other low down and contemptible tricks. And maybe that’s why everyone is ag’n him.
Tully made his stage debut in Nevada City, Cal., where he was also born. A small stock company which was to play there required a baby for a scene and as the regular child was ill. Tully got well up in the part and was carried on the stage. The next day the city newspaper undoubtedly came out with the announcement: “Local Baby Makes Good. Tully Marshall Phillips Steals Show at Opera House. Shows Artistic Promise in Great Squalling Scene.”
Tully’s mother was Julia Mattie Tully, the celebrated opera singer. Tully was given his mother’s family name for a Christian name and dropped the patronymic Phillips, for stage purposes.
After this big boost in his own home town there was nothing left for Tully to do but become an actor. As soon as he was able to go to school he spent all of his spare time around the theater, as call boy, props, etc., until finally he made his first appearance in a part as Fred Carter in George Bronson Howard’s famous old play Saratoga.
A little later he left Nevada City to go to school in San Francisco and during the evenings worked at the Winter Garden theater there. This was the day when the star traveled alone and appeared in the principal role with the different stock companies about the country and Tully appeared in bits and small parts with many of the leading stars who visited San Francisco. He was then made leading juvenile and appeared in Oakland and Sacramento as well as the Gate City.
Dion Boucicault came along and Marshall was engaged as stage manager. Later he went with Mme. Modjeska in the same capacity and also with Fanny Davenport, landing up in New York for the first time to play the juvenile role — George Harris — in the all-star production of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Everybody was a star but Tully. The part of George Harris is considered the worst part for a juvenile of any of the famous old plays, and the only reason Tully got the job was because David Belasco could not find anyone else who would play it.
But he made a hit in this thankless role and was engaged to play and stage manage William Gillette in Held by the Enemy. From there he went with E. H. Sothern to stage manage and play the comedy and character parts.
After several years with Sothern, Daniel Frohman requested Marshall to go over to London and do a play and after closing the London engagement, Charles Frohman sent him on a little trip to Paris, Berlin and Vienna to pick up other plays that might make a hit on this side. Tully came back reeking with manuscripts and spent several years more staging his prizes for Frohman.
While producing for Frohman at the Empire Theatre, a beautiful young ingénue appeared on the scene, fresh from dramatic school and seeking to acquire stage technique to become a playwright. This young woman’s name was Marion Fairfax and it wasn’t long before she became Mrs. Marshall.
Tully left the Frohmans to open up his own stock company in Pittsburgh and there produced his wife’s first play, The Builders. Later the play went to New York and made a big hit. While in New York, Tully was offered the part of Joe Brooks in Paid in Full. The hit he made in it is theatrical history, conceded to be one of the artistic triumphs of the decade and he played it for a year and half on Broadway. He also produced The Way and The Means, Mrs. Marshall’s second play. Then the late Clyde Fitch selected Tully to play the dope fiend in The City. His performance in this play was the sensation of New York for two years but the continuous strain told on the actor and he went back to running his own stock company in Cleveland and there produced Mrs. Marshall’s play The Talker. In this he appeared for a year in New York and then was seen for the last time in the noisy drama in The Trap.
The silent art began to call and Marshall appeared in a screen version of “Paid in Full” and then came West for Griffith [D. W. Griffith]. Sixty-two weeks there and then he signed a long contract with the Lasky company where Mrs. Marshall was busy dashing off scenarios and has been there ever since except to play a few special engagements at other studios now and then.
Anyone can see by this review of the American drama that Tully Marshall knows nothing about acting. What chance has he against Homer Splots who has seen twenty motion pictures and taken a correspondence course in screen expression?
You can readily see that this lack of training has soured Tully’s disposition, because he doesn’t play anything but terrible parts for the camera. You never saw him peacefully die and leave a couple of million dollars to the hero. Did you ever hear him say, “Take her, my boy, she’s yours!” Did he ever got out into the storm to leave the girl he loved alone with the man she loved? I should say not! If there is any way to spoil anyone’s whole day, Tully is hired to do it. Remember him as the tattle-tale monk in “Joan The Woman,” or as one of the crooks in “Cheating Cheaters,” or as the sheriff in The Romance of the Redwoods? No, Tully doesn’t know a thing about acting!
Anyway he is in pictures to stay and thank goodness we will have to put up with a lot more of his splendid performances. He has declared himself that he is in California to stay and is even now trying to sell his home at Shoreham, Long Island, so that he can build a home near Hollywood.
Tully’s favorite occupation now is sitting out here in the California bungalow refusing offers to go back on the stage. Managers in the East will wire wildly out offering him a big part in some new production. Tully will wire back and ask if they can guarantee him fifty-two weeks work, which no stage manager can safely do, and then proceeds to give them the laugh.
Which is a pretty good way to be situated, I calls it!
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Tully Marshall’s remarkable characterization of the monk in “Joan the Woman.”
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Studio item: Work on the photodrama, “The Womanhater,” was delayed yesterday when Courtenay Coupe, playing the powerful role of the man who denounces civilization because of women, was diverted by the passing of several good-looking comedy queens employed at an adjacent film studio.
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Tully Marshall’s favorite occupation is sitting out in his California bungalow, refusing offers to go back on the stage. Here is the Marshall family — Mr. and Mrs., and a rather dejected looking dog. The corner inserts show some of Mr. Marshall’s screen characterizations.
Stagg picture
Collection: Photoplay Magazine, August 1919