Please Deanna, Don't Grow Up!
by Ted Magee
Deanna can't have dates; she can't even go roller skating.
But - there's a good reason.
Deanna Durbin, munching on a favorite candy bar between
scenes, handed me a letter from a fan who lived in Louisiana. But
it wasn't a typical fan letter. It was an ardent plea to the powers-that-be
at Universal - a plea which was read by every important executive in the
place:
"Dear Sirs: I have read in the newspapers
that Deanna Durbin is going to grow up in her next picture, 'That Certain
Age.' I have been afraid some one would let her do that pretty soon,
and that's why I am writing to you.
"Please, oh please, don't let her grow up.
There are plenty of people on the screen who can portray adult life, but
there is only one vivacious, young Deanna Durbin. Above all, don't
let her do what is rumored - elope with Jackie Cooper in this picture.
If you do, we'll go on a sit-down strike or something.
"I speak not only for myself, but for the thousands
of other adults. Please take heed."
- - - Sincerely, "LOUISIANA FAN"
I looked up at Deanna and she shrugged her shoulders.
"You're sixteen, aren't you?" I asked.
"Fifteen and a half," she corrected. "And
my whole life is guided by letters like these."
Thus, in a few words, Deanna spoke a great truth,
one that you can realize only if you know the story of her extraordinary
life, in sharp contrast to that of the average young girl who has lived
a normal, sheltered life.
"Actually, I don't have a real screen 'romance'
with Jackie Cooper," Deanna explained. "I get a terrible crush on
Melvyn Douglas, like lots of young girls do in real life. When he
finds it out, he gently edges out of my life and I go back to having Jackie
as consolation. But there is no real love affair - the public won't
have it that way."
That, of course, has been clearly demonstrated by
letters from her fans, who don't want her to grow up! The public
goes even further. It takes an ordinate amount of interest in her
private life off screen. Let me tell you about that.
At fifteen or sixteen, most American girls and boys
have started on more or less active social careers. Few youngsters
of that age are to-day denied the privilege of theater dates, and most
of them can make occasional sallies to night clubs under the chaperonage
of an adult. But such simple pleasures have not yet come to Deanna,
nor has she yet had a real life romance.
There are a good many reasons and explanations for
that. Fore and foremost is the incontestable fact that Hollywood
is full of professional gossipers - people who are hired to tell the inside
stories, real or fancied, about the town. Some of them are newspaper
correspondents. Some use radio, some write columns. They can
say things, if they choose, that carry inferences and implications that
are not fair nor true. The unfair ones are in the minority, but they
do exist as a genuine menace.
Again, Deanna may be matured beyond her years, but
she is still fifteen years old. She isn't boy crazy, but on the other
hand, she considers boys to be very interesting. One of the biggest
honors she has received, to her way of thinking, was honorary membership
in a Sea Scout troop some time ago.
But as for dates, and night clubs -
"I've never been inside a night club," Deanna said,
and her mother, sitting near-by, nodded concurrence.
"What's the objection?" I asked.
Her mother gave the answer in a roundabout way.
"Deanna and I both admire a young woman who sings
at a cafe - it isn't really a night club at all. But our admiration
does not give me the right to take Deanna there for dinner to hear the
young lady sing, because there would be repercussions.
"You see, Deanna belongs to the whole country.
By that I mean that she is looked up to by young girls everywhere.
They pattern their clothes, lives and conduct after her. This automatically
creates a great responsibility and obligation for Deanna. It means
her life must be above the mildest reproach. This is not a criticism
of night clubs, which have their place, but is more a comment on Deanna's
unusual position.
"Thus far her fans won't consider her as a girl
who is growing up. Naturally, I would not want her to go to night
clubs just yet - that time will come some day. But I don't feel free
to take her even close to a place resembling one. We would get too
big a reaction to such a thing."
And there you have Deanna's big problem, brought
about by the reactions of an exacting public.
Deanna is nearly sixteen years old. In "That Certain Age" she
almost has a romance with Jackie Cooper.
As I sat there with Deanna, I had to keep reminding
myself I was talking to a girl of fifteen, for she looks, thinks, and acts
like any normal girl of nineteen. But she isn't that old, and furthermore,
she doesn't want to lead the life of an older girl. Like her friend,
Judy Garland, whom Picture Play told about in a recent issue, Deanna likes
her own age and intends to live it.
Watch her on the set and you'll see the "youngness"
of her creep out. She likes games, and will lure any one she can
into participating in them with her. She'll play hot hand, for instance,
until your fingers tingle. One day she defied any one on her studio
set to draw an accurate reproduction of a telephone dial. Nobody
could - but Deanna did!
Most girls of fifteen can have dates for picture
shows. Can Deanna? No - not without her mother!
"There is not only always the chance that the public
might object - we can't be sure," Deanna explained, "but there's another
reason. You see, I spend most of my time among adults. As a
rule, there aren't any children of my age at the studio, and when there
are, I don't seem to have much spare time to get to know them.
"Now, there are kids my age in Hollywood - Judy,
and Jackie Moran and Jackie Cooper, for instance. And lots of others.
They go to each other's parties and have lots of fun. I'm usually
invited to. I was supposed to go to a party Jackie Moran was giving
to-night but I can't. I've got a rehearsal. And that's what
happens about half the time. I don't have time for friends my own
age.
"I don't mind it, really. Life seems full,
but it's a different life, I know, than that most girls have. It
has to be."
She has had the opportunity of meeting and knowing
interesting, vital, and often really great people. Whether Adolphe
Menjou, Eddie Cantor, or Leopold Stokowski, these acquaintances have given
her a breadth of view, an opportunity not available to the average girl.
From her career she has attained poise, knowledge
of fashions, style and beauty. She has a working knowledge in photography,
sound, and other by-lines of the industry. And above all, she has
had the finest teachers to develop her voice, and can consider, with genuine
possibility the idea of becoming an opera star.
I reminded Deanna that she was going to tell me
the other reason why she didn't go out alone with a boy on early-evening
dates. Why does her mother always go along?
"Well," she said slowly. "I've had some rather
unusual experiences when I've appeared in public. On occasions the
crowds have been wild enough to be a 'caution.' Mother knows how
to handle them in her own quiet way, and she's just fragile enough that
most people respect her. So she's a real safeguard, and I feel nothing
will go wrong if she's near. You see, I wouldn't be without my mother's
presence right now.
"Maybe you've heard that it's the rage in Hollywood
to go roller skating. I want very much to go to the rink with the
other children, but honestly, I don't dare do it. Crowds scare me,
and they do jam around something terrible."
Deanna doesn't know what it is going to be like
to have a screen romance. In "That Certain Age" she comes very close
to having one. But Universal is smart. The studio is going
to allow Deanna to grow up on the screen just as she would in real life.
It won't force romance on her prematurely.
Some day, inevitably, young love will come to her.
She will play it on the screen, and she will face it in real life.
It is unavoidable, because she is too sweet, too attractive, to miss romance.
When it does come, Deanna will have to find a way
to handle her public. Somehow she will have to make America understand
that she cannot forever be a young child, that she must grow up as all
girls do, and she must feel the stirring of emotion when a Prince Charming
comes along.
Until that day it will be something for her, or
her wise mother, to ponder about. And something for America to expect.
My, my, look at those fan letters. They came in the morning mail
for Deanna.
On Olvera Street, Los Angeles, she autographs sombrero of Mexican lad.
Back stage after the matinee, she learns how they make the puppets perform.
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