Item Info

Publication Date: 12/23/1913
Media Type: House Organs
Source: Theatre Collection
Notes:

Harry C. Myers

   On the screen, even more than on the stage, personality counts. With the voice silenced the camera catches the very essence of the actor’s individuality – if it exists. Few photoplayers are as successful as Harry C. Myers in giving to the picture public their real selves. Away from the Lubin studio Mr. Myers is exactly as he is known to his admirers all over the world.

   He is a happy-go-lucky big boy who shoulders (but is never weighted down by) the responsibility of directing every photoplay in which he plays the principal role. A big scene employing two hundred extras does not disturb him, nor does an intricate bit of business which must be “got over” in fifteen feet of film. He is never too busy to call out a cheery greeting to a fellow player; neither is he too self-centered to play up to a member of his company. 

   Mr. Myers has been associated with Lubin productions for so long that he laughingly declares he goes with the lease! For purposes of comparison it is interesting to see one of the films of those days. In most of them the young actor-director of today may be seen filling in as a supernumerary. Soon he was given more to do; then he was made leading man, and finally, about three months ago, he directed his first production. Within twelve weeks he has finished fifteen photoplays. His results are remarkable and can only be accounted for by Mr. Myer’s habit of close observation during his years in photoplays.

   Myers’ skill at make-up is rare called into play. His admirers have often signified their preference for him as he is, so he has little opportunity to equal his wonderful characterization of the Indian half-breed in “The Price of a Silver Fox.” In this make-up he completely altered his features – a feat accomplished after hours of experimenting. When he strolled on the scene his fellow players were amazed at the transformation.

   Harry Myer’s unconcerned manner and easy methods do not necessarily indicate a lack of constant application. A director really works. When he also acts his hours are long and taxing. His time away from the studio is given over to rest and recreation. He is a constant theatre-goer and a familiar figure in the streets of Philadelphia. His appearances on the screen are in flashes. So also are the glimpses one gets of him outside as he speeds by in his BearCatStutz car. A glance at the line-up of motors in front of a theatre will always tell whether Harry C. Myers is within or not. His canary-colored car could belong to no one else! A daily hour in a gymnasium keeps the young athlete in good condition, and when he greets the members of his company at nine o'clock every morning his blue eyes are clear and his voice carries with it the ring of perfect health. Myers is too wise to be anything but “fit.” 

   Occasionally he accepts an invitation to appear in person at a picture theater. When he does he always brings back with him an amusing story. Not long ago he visited a little town in Pennsylvania and appeared in conjunction with one of his own photoplays. It was necessary for him to remain over night at the home of the theater manager. In the morning at the breakfast table he met the four-year-old daughter of the host. “Toodles” put the six-foot star through a cross examination. 

   

“Are you the real Mr. Myers?” “Well, why don’t you talk when you are a picture?” “Did you bring a trunk with you?” “Well, didn’t you bring a toof-brush?”

“Mr. Myers, do you sleep in pants, nightgowns, or frock nightgowns?”

The laughing man did not explain to the little girl all about his pajamas, but a few days later Toodles received the most wonderful creation of candy to be found in all Philadelphia.

Call Number: Lubin - Bulletin I:4