HEROES ARE UNMASKED

Evening Star, Issue 23382, 27 September 1939, Page 11

HEROES ARE UNMASKED

STARS WHS DON'T TAKE RISKS You’ve heard, of course, about the virile star who laughs at danger, waves doubles aside and insists on performing all those precarious screen stunts himself. He’s a favourite yarn subject in every Hollywood publicity department. But, unfortunately, his deeds of celluloid valour are merely imaginative figments seeping from the brains of overworked Press agents (writes Harold Heffernan). Stars don’t take chances with their physical well-being. For one thing, the producers won't let them, because precious investments must be protected. For another thing, the average movie hero is pretty much a softie. Few of them would care to risk a two-foot leap into a hay-mow, even though padded from head to toe. You’d be surprised —and disillusioned in the bargain—if you could observe some of the innocuous little stunts the husky glamour boys crab about. A short time ago there was a street sequence in a eaniedy-drama requiring one of the screen’s most popular male stars to leap across a four-foot puddle. Six feet and one inch of handsome face and rippling muscles, he stood there gazing tremulously at the tiny ditch. Then he- notified the director the leap came under the guild specifications requiring bona fide stunt men. There was nothing to do but to go out and hire a stunt man. The camera set-up was shifted for a back-view shot of the “ star,” and Harvey Parry, one of the colony’s most expert stunters made the “ leap.” PLANNING AND ENGINEERING. That is why there always will be room for stunt men in Hollywood. In recent years they’ve been looked upon as a dying race because of the progress made by the miniature and process departments. But so long as the star system reigns at the box office and high-salaried kings and queens remain to be pampered and protected, a certain number of stunt men will be able to eke out a fair living from the movies. The other day on the Warner back lot two speeding automobiles crashed head-on. Two life-like dummies sat in one. At the wheel of the other was a man supposed to be Pat O’Brien. But it wasn’t. Pat’s stooge in this movie, ‘ The (Roaring Road ’ —streamlined version of the old Wally Reid auto racing story—was Parry again. Parry is a thick-chested, jovial exboxer and carnival high diver, who is still averaging £1,300 a year (as he has for the past vears), taking the bumps for Hollywood’s big name players—men and women alike.

“ Stunt men have changed along with pictures,” said Parry after he had leaped from the wreck and stood watching the two cars go up in flames. “It used to be that the only requirement of a good stunt man was a flock of nerve. But those fellows have passed on. Nowadays it’s a matter of fine planning and engineering. “ I tpok up engineering at school, almost followed it as a profession. And, believe me, it comes in handy on this job. Without that knowledge, I’d have been killed off long ago.”

There are only 10 active stunt men left in Hollywood who come under the heading of “ aces.” They’ve remained on the job through the years because they carefully sketch out each proposed job in advance, figuring each detail of movement down to the fraction of an inch. Those that won’t “ prove out ” on paper are turned down. Parry and his few remaining cohorts turn down more dangerous jobs than they accept. That’s because over-zealous directors stay awake nights thinking up crazy thrills that will pep up melodramas at the box office. Most of them wouldn’t give an expert stunt manipulator half a chance to join the wife and kiddies at the dinner table.

For a spectacular shot in ‘ Gunga Din ’ Parry was offered £IOO to fall 105 feet from a high cliff into a lake.’ He went out to survey the scene on location. It looked simple, but just as he was about to sign up, he noticed a man in a canoe paddling about the lake. Every time the paddle swept the water mud appeared on the surface That worried Parry. He decided to do a little “ engineering.” He went over to his car and brought back a dummy replica of himself (identical in height and weight) which he always carries around to jobs. Parry dropped the dummy off the cliff. It hit the water, but, although a floater, it didn’t come up. That was enough. The lake had a mud bottom, and it would have been curtains for any diver to take the leap. He turned down the job and held firm, even when the studio doubled the wage offer. Dummies finally were used in the picture. “ PLUNK, OUT WE GO.” The sex, height, or weight of the star makes no difference to Parry—he’ll double for any or all of them. He donned a wig of curls, bonnet, and short skirt one day in busy Los Angeles traffic and impersonated Mary Pickford for a dangerous scene in ’‘My Best Girl.’ But that was awfully embarrassing, Parry said, because a lot of his friends heard about it in advance. They gathered along the kerb and yoo-hooed at him. One day Parry doubled for Norma Shearer while wearing a six weeks’ growth of beard on his face. Half an hour later he was riding a raging rapids on behalf of the late John Gib bert. ' The king of stunters has suffered but one major accident in his career. Playing the role of a drunk in ‘ The Call of the Wild ’ three years ago, he was supposed to stagger off a 6in street curbing and . fall into three feet of soft, synthetic snow—cornflake variety. It was as easy as hoppirig over that 4ft mud puddle—but Parry’s engineering mind faltered for the nonce. He broke his back and was in hospital five months. Naturally Parry is a fatalist. ”My death card is somewhere in the rack already. I may be tagged to-morrow or next week. The jobs we do don’t make any difference. When our time comes, out we go—regardless! ”