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Show fmmi actors GJS , Some of the screen JsfW 'M' r : stars risk death every Pm3 , week in order to pro- ufmll JJ fUiWlV 1 vide sensation lovers MKzmMTWASHt with thrills-women JbU of film drama will mLgJm tJkW.y try any stunt once MW&JA -ftv. NK way of curning a living is bv A jumping from one .speeding train to A another; by riding motor cycles oft I 1 open drawbridges ; by running pell- I j niell over moving freight trains, only J to clutch an overhead cable and to ,r hang suspended lu midair; by grap-ullug grap-ullug with an infuriated man in the cab of an onrushlng locomotive, and ' In n hundred ways risking life' and tf limb. Tills is what scores of motion " picture actresses and actors do every day wiili hardly the wink of an eyelash In the performance per-formance of the stunts. It Is all in answer to the cry for realism in the movies which has recently been raised by directors. Itealism is now a watchword. Above all, the pro-due! pro-due! ion must be realistic. The directors argue that the public has become tired of faked dangers and mechanical feats that make ordinary scenes appear hazardous. The desire for realism may be all right for the public and the director, but it is hard on the performers. Patrons of the pictures are so familiar wllh scenes depicting rough riding, descents of mountaiu sides on horseback and leaps from cliffs in which the rider falls clear of the mount and in other ways flirts with death that they never stop to think ot the real danger incurred by those actors who darii so much for the silent drama. Of course there aril certain pictures In which the danger is faked. But those pictures are almost equally balanced by the kind which depicts a real danger encountered to accomplish the desired result. f Jumps From Moving Trains. 1 "When I first began to jump off moving trains," said Helen Holmes, when asked for her impressions of daredevllling in the films, "I must confess I was somewhat timid, but now I take it as something which must be done to complete the picture. "In one picture in which I worked about six months ago I went through the action with my heart in my mouth, and for a moment at least I felt like quitting. It was a railroad picture in which I was to drive a big engine across a bridge whlcn was to be blown up as the engine reached the middle. mid-dle. . "A torpedo on the track about twenty feet from the spot where the dynamite charge was placed to wreck the bridge was to give me my signal to dive . from the cab to the river thirty feet below. From the moment that the engine reached the wooden trestle I kept thinking what would happen if the torpedo did not go off and I should be carried down Into the wreckage. "The run of about thirty yards seemed interminable, intermin-able, but everything worked according to plans and I made the dive safely, but I was shaking like a leaf when Ashed from the river. I was so frightened fright-ened I could hardly keep myself afloat. "But now I have become so used to risking my neck that I accept it as a matter of course. It is much like the case of an aviator when he starts flying. fly-ing. At first he is cautious and only makes slight ascents and safe descents, but soon the spirit of 1 daring enters Ills soul and he is looping the loop gJ and doing spirals 2,000 feet in the air, and other dangerous stunts." ,..- , eas "'" -banger in the Quicksand. t Thef was. Marion Swayne, who thought it pretty hard whin she was called upon recently to allow herself ti;; be rescued from quicksands on a treacherous treach-erous birjof picturesque Florida beach. It would not suflice to have her buried in a sand hole on a solid portion of the beach where she could easily be extricated without danger to herself. George Foster Piatt, who was directing the five-reel feature fea-ture entitled "The Net," insisted that the best re- suits .could only be obtained by having the star caught iu the real quicksand. Outside the range of the camera a group of men were ready with planks and rope to rescue the actress in case the scene as planned miscarried and she should need other help than that offered by Bert Delaney, the leading man and hero. Miss Swayne was reluctant at first to try the scene, but finally consented and timidly went out to the treacherous sandbar. The feeling of helplessness that came over her when her feet sank slowly from under her without means of staying them alarmed the screen star. As she sank to the waist her features fea-tures registered a genuine fear, and at this point the camera man began "shooting" the scene while the gallant hero with a stout rope lassoed her. It required all his strength to drag her from the sands which were engulfing her. When on solid ground again Miss Swayne with a tremulous voice said: "I suppose on the screen that will look easy, but I don't care to try it over again." Leap From High Cliff. Wide publicity was once given to a stunt picture In which a trained acrobat jumped a horse from a hilltop into a chasm, inflicting injuries upon liim- , self and the animal and getting into trouble with the humane society officials. This uan was not a regular member of the picture company, but was engaged at a big price to perform the daring act. Anna Little had a somewhat similar experience, although part of it was not done intentionally. Under Un-der the direction of Frank Borzage, a glutton for realism. Miss Little was to slide down the side of a cliff some seventy feet high on horseback to escape a band of Indians in pursuit. The ride called for a skilled equestrieun?, unflinching cour- . iige and a sure-footed horse. It was impossible to rehearse the scene because the director knew that after having gone through It once neither Miss Little nor the horse could be persuaded to repeat the action. This scene was to be the big thrill in the picture. Much care was taken in preparing it. Three cam-' cam-' fern men were stationed to catch the slide from J VDthree different angles, thus insuring a good plc-' plc-' - ture. from at least one of the machines. Barely Escaped Death. Careful instructions had been given the actress bnd bc started on the slide. At first the horse &timyw vv4 ill hesitated, but urged on he braced his forefeet and prepared to reach the bottom In safety. Everything Every-thing moved swiftly, the camera men ground their machines and the director shouted encouragement through his megaphone. But about twenty feet from the bottom the horse caught his foot In a rock fissure, stumbled and hurled Miss Little over his head. She flew through the air head first, landing in a clump of mesquite bushes more than ten yards away. Spectators rushed to her side, expecting to find her either dead or seriously injured, but aside from the shock and a number of scratches she escaped unhurt. The dumb actor in the scene was less fortunate, for-tunate, suffering two broken legs, and had to be shot. This untoward Incident in making the scene caused a complete revision of the scenario. Miss Gertrude McCoy is known as another daredevil dare-devil of the screen. She gives a good account of herself in every branch of athletics, besides being a skillful driver of a motor car. Miss McCoy drives her own machine and has used it to advantage in many of the pictures in which she is starred. Her most recent exploits have been in connection with what is known In the movie vernacular as "water stuff." Strange as It may seem, the stunts in her latest picture do not show up with the same dan gerous thrills that really characterized their making. mak-ing. This is often the case In motion pictures ; what looks hard is often easy. Foolhardiness Meant Injury. A "water-stuff" picture which almost put Miss McCoy's life in jeopardy was taken for "The Isle of Love" and was made near Jacksonville, Fla. In one of the early scenes of the photoplay the star yields to the temptation to go bathing in a pool upon a rocky bit of coast. The shore at the point where the picture was taken happened to be made up of myriads of shells and pebbles compressed into a crumbling, jagged stone formation. The water, wa-ter, moreover, was far more shallow than Miss McCoy Mc-Coy suspected. Despite the warning of her director, Edwin Mid-dleton, Mid-dleton, she jumped boldly into the water, cutting her feet, ankles and legs severely. She was too good a picture player, however, to stop while the camera was grinding. Although suffering from a number of extremely painful cuts she bravely finished fin-ished the scene. This episode, which certainly was not down on the program, laid her up for nearly near-ly a week. As the final "punch" of "Lost in the Everglades," which is part of "Gloria's Romance r !? 'Dm serial in which Billie Burke Is appearing, a perfectly good seven passenger automobile is driven straight out into the Atlantic ocean off Palm Beach, Fla. This may be termed recklessness or pure extravagance, according to one's point of view. Needless to say the damage done to the car by its immersion in the salt water was considerable. To prove that the film manufacturers aren't the only people who can be reckless, Miss Burke wore a Lucile creation that had been specially designed for her use in the picture, and utterly regardless of the certain ruin of the frock she hopped out of the runaway auto as It cleared the first line of breakers, found herself up to her knees in the surf, laughed gayly and then waded ashore. Auto Jumps the Gap. In order to eliminate as much danger as possible, pos-sible, this scene was carefully staked beforehand ; that is, everything was simplified. A sloping platform plat-form was erected at the place where the leap was to be made and well re-enforced. Across the ditch some thirty or forty feet away a pile of brush wood had been placed to break the fall as the car landed. Down a sloping piece of ground approaching the jumplng-off place Miss King came with lightning speed in her little machine and took the leap while the cameras clicked. She landed without serious mishap in the pile of brush, and beyond a severe shaking up and a few bruises was none the worse for her experience. "It's the buts and lfs connected with such stunts as these," she remarked later, "that make the dangers dan-gers undergone really greater than they seem to be. If something had gone wrong there might have been a very different story to tell. But and here the but comes in I suppose it's all in the day'p work, so I have nothing to complain of," she concluded con-cluded with a laugh. The dangers have also to be faced by the camera man. An example is the recent experience of a news camera man in Mexico. A pictorial weekly representative, hearing that Villa's body was being brought to Chihuahua for identification, hurried thither. "From the time I crossed the border until I returned," re-turned," he said, telling of his adventures, "I was a constant target for Mexican abuse. It was not until I reached Chihuahua, however, that any physical violence was offered. Then there vvas a demonstration in the market place despite the fact that I was under the protection of a Mexican army officer. Shots were fired at me and I was glad to get back to the good old U. S. A. with a whole skin; but I gof some pretty good pictures, after all." ' |