Jenny and Miss Jones
by Gregory Peck
(Photoplay, June 1949)
From where I stand, after five years acquaintanceship, Jennifer Jones is a dual personality - artist and girl.
A difficult portrait to pen, "the Jones girl". Never will I forget an embarrassing interlude at a dinner party a couple of years ago. During a lull, when one could, or could not, sound quite profound, a young admirer of Jennifer's was full of questions about what Miss Jones was "really like".
"Well, she's..." I began, and then I stopped, searching for a suitable capsule comment. Finding none, I turned to another star present who also knew Jennifer.
"Well..." he said, and handed it back to me. Between us we made what probably were the two shortest after-dinner speeches ever given.
What is she really like? Artist and girl? I agree with my friend John Huston, who directed Jennifer in "We Were Strangers," and with whom I'm associated in "Quo Vadis". John, full of admiration for Jennifer's sensitive performances in the former film, commented "As an actress, Jennifer knows all the things she doesn't know as an individual."
I'll never forget a routine color test she did for "Duel in the Sun". It was the first time we had met. Jennifer came out on the stage wearing a simple cotton dress and flat heeled shoes, her hair hanging girlishly down her back. I thought her lovely and unusual looking, but when the director gave the down-beat, the girl in the flat heels and cotton dress disappeared. In her stead, there was a sexy creature who looked out the side of her eyes and walked with a stealthy glide.
She takes criticism eagerly. During rehearsals for "Serena Blandish", in which she starred at La Jolla last summer, Jennifer was always inviting criticism with "Could you hear me?" "Did I do it right" "Does that line sound correct to you?"
At a party, she is usually a quiet and interested listener, and in her charming home, she is a wonderfully solicitous hostess. She's happiest, actually, when she is serving other people, looking after their comfort, taking the emphasis off herself.
When she's happy, Jennifer is the greatest "Patsy" for jokes. On the "We Were Strangers" set, one gag started rolling during a very grim scene in which Jennifer and other Cuban Revolutionists are tunneling underneath a cemetery to blow up some politicos who are supposed to attend a funeral. John Huston padded a rubber glove, had it painted green, and placed it where Jennifer was to dig. When she dug up the gangrenous hand, Jennifer ran off the set screaming.
To even the score, with the aid of John Garfield, Jennifer got a skeleton from the prop department and put a replica of John's old battered felt hat upon its head. Then she had it rigged up with wires so it could be operated from twenty feet away like a puppet, and a bellows to make it smoke a cigar. During the lunch hour, they set it at Huston's desk. When he walked in, the skeleton, puffing away, greeted him with a booming "Hello John."
All who have worked with her, directors and stars alike, take our hats off to Jennifer, for her capacity for hard work. She's a girl, too, with tremendous courage. This she demonstrated by doing a demanding role like "Serena Blandish". She knew this was our most ambitious production of the season, that we were shooting the works financially and that she would in the company of an all-star cast, that included such veterans as Constance Collier, Reginald Owen, and Sig Rutman, as well as Louis Jourdan and others. The company rehearsed on the lawn at her home and whenever she wasn't "on stage," you'd find Jennifer, in her blue jeans and shirt, over in a corner of the yard, batting her lines back and forth with somebody.
With no legitimate stage experience, Jennifer was really on the spot. She faced a very critical audience, who had the natural attitude of "Let's see what the girl can do." Jennifer's sensitiveness and shyness made her job twice as hard. Yet on opening night, with the rest of the cast nervous, the crew nervous, and even the audience nervous, she remained calm. It was as though she had just gritted her teeth and made up her mind she'd do an extremely professional job - and she did, too.
A little later, escaping as soon as she could from all the embarrassing congratulations, she lipped out of her orginal Mainbocher model, to hostess a party on the beach. This to me is Jennifer Jones.
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by Gregory Peck
(Photoplay, June 1949)
From where I stand, after five years acquaintanceship, Jennifer Jones is a dual personality - artist and girl.
A difficult portrait to pen, "the Jones girl". Never will I forget an embarrassing interlude at a dinner party a couple of years ago. During a lull, when one could, or could not, sound quite profound, a young admirer of Jennifer's was full of questions about what Miss Jones was "really like".
"Well, she's..." I began, and then I stopped, searching for a suitable capsule comment. Finding none, I turned to another star present who also knew Jennifer.
"Well..." he said, and handed it back to me. Between us we made what probably were the two shortest after-dinner speeches ever given.
What is she really like? Artist and girl? I agree with my friend John Huston, who directed Jennifer in "We Were Strangers," and with whom I'm associated in "Quo Vadis". John, full of admiration for Jennifer's sensitive performances in the former film, commented "As an actress, Jennifer knows all the things she doesn't know as an individual."
I'll never forget a routine color test she did for "Duel in the Sun". It was the first time we had met. Jennifer came out on the stage wearing a simple cotton dress and flat heeled shoes, her hair hanging girlishly down her back. I thought her lovely and unusual looking, but when the director gave the down-beat, the girl in the flat heels and cotton dress disappeared. In her stead, there was a sexy creature who looked out the side of her eyes and walked with a stealthy glide.
She takes criticism eagerly. During rehearsals for "Serena Blandish", in which she starred at La Jolla last summer, Jennifer was always inviting criticism with "Could you hear me?" "Did I do it right" "Does that line sound correct to you?"
At a party, she is usually a quiet and interested listener, and in her charming home, she is a wonderfully solicitous hostess. She's happiest, actually, when she is serving other people, looking after their comfort, taking the emphasis off herself.
When she's happy, Jennifer is the greatest "Patsy" for jokes. On the "We Were Strangers" set, one gag started rolling during a very grim scene in which Jennifer and other Cuban Revolutionists are tunneling underneath a cemetery to blow up some politicos who are supposed to attend a funeral. John Huston padded a rubber glove, had it painted green, and placed it where Jennifer was to dig. When she dug up the gangrenous hand, Jennifer ran off the set screaming.
To even the score, with the aid of John Garfield, Jennifer got a skeleton from the prop department and put a replica of John's old battered felt hat upon its head. Then she had it rigged up with wires so it could be operated from twenty feet away like a puppet, and a bellows to make it smoke a cigar. During the lunch hour, they set it at Huston's desk. When he walked in, the skeleton, puffing away, greeted him with a booming "Hello John."
All who have worked with her, directors and stars alike, take our hats off to Jennifer, for her capacity for hard work. She's a girl, too, with tremendous courage. This she demonstrated by doing a demanding role like "Serena Blandish". She knew this was our most ambitious production of the season, that we were shooting the works financially and that she would in the company of an all-star cast, that included such veterans as Constance Collier, Reginald Owen, and Sig Rutman, as well as Louis Jourdan and others. The company rehearsed on the lawn at her home and whenever she wasn't "on stage," you'd find Jennifer, in her blue jeans and shirt, over in a corner of the yard, batting her lines back and forth with somebody.
With no legitimate stage experience, Jennifer was really on the spot. She faced a very critical audience, who had the natural attitude of "Let's see what the girl can do." Jennifer's sensitiveness and shyness made her job twice as hard. Yet on opening night, with the rest of the cast nervous, the crew nervous, and even the audience nervous, she remained calm. It was as though she had just gritted her teeth and made up her mind she'd do an extremely professional job - and she did, too.
A little later, escaping as soon as she could from all the embarrassing congratulations, she lipped out of her orginal Mainbocher model, to hostess a party on the beach. This to me is Jennifer Jones.
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