  Peggy was writing a letter to Jean Wilson, her friend back home in Rockport, Wisconsin. She was already on the third page. ... so Paula’s parents agreed to stay out of sight until after opening night. As you can see from the clippings I’ve enclosed, the play went off wonderfully. Every paper loved us—and the whole audience, too. At the final curtain, they wouldn’t let us off! We got curtain after curtain, and I thought the applause would never stop for Paula. She got seven solo curtain calls! (I shouldn’t brag, but I got two myself.) When Paula was handed an enormous bouquet of roses somewhere along about the third or fourth curtain call, and when she saw that the card on them was from her mother and father, I thought she was going to fly around the stage like Peter Pan! She managed to keep her head, though, and they kept out of sight in the projection booth until all the critics and everybody else had left the theater. They didn’t want Paula to think that their presence had any effect on whatever it was the critics were going to write. I don’t think it would have mattered, anyway. When I saw Paula right after the final curtain, she said that she had lost all her silly fears, and that she didn’t even care about the reviews, because she knew for herself what she was worth. I’m glad she finally figured it out! After it was all over, Mr. and Mrs. Andrews gave a party for the cast—and you’ll never guess where! It was at Sir Brian Alwyne’s house! It seems that they’re old friends of Sir Brian—as I told you, he’s really interested in the theater—and that explains why Paula wouldn’t go there for the audition. Sir Brian has known her since she was a child, and he knew that she was supposed to be in Europe. When she heard that the audition was to be at his home, Paula just panicked. She didn’t know what to do, so she ran. Sir Brian was very charming to me at the party. He said that although he was pleased that Paula had played the lead, and although she had done a magnificent job, he had been looking forward to seeing me in the part. I thought it was very sweet of him. It was a wonderful party. We stayed up almost all night, until the early editions of the papers came out, and then we sat around reading the best phrases out of each of the reviews, and repeating them to each other endlessly. We owe a lot to Paula’s parents for getting the top critics down to see us. And we also owe them a lot for getting other people to come too. The play has been running for a week now and we’ve actually had to put up the S.R.O. sign (“standing room only,” you know). Let me tell you about a few of the good things that have happened. First, Paula. After the opening, she got two major movie studio contract offers again, and right now she’s in the process of deciding which one to take. She has all the confidence in the world—as well as all the talent—and she has definitely decided to go into the movies. But she has told both the studios that she won’t be available until the play is over, because she wants to play out the entire run at the Penthouse Theater. It’s darned nice of her, because we have no run-of-play contract with anybody in the cast. Still, looking at it honestly, and in as practical a light as I can, I guess she does owe us something. But not as much as we owe her for being as good as she was! (And is.) Next, Randy. One of the biggest Broadway producers (I’m not allowed to say who) has bought an option on Randy’s next play. That means that, if he likes it, he’ll produce it in a Broadway theater! Not only that, but he wants Mal to direct it, because he says that Mal is a wonderful director, and has an obvious sympathy and understanding for Randy’s work. Just think, Jean, my friends may be the new celebrities of the theater world! Then there’s Greta. She’s been offered a leading role in the national company of Moonbeam, which is the biggest hit on Broadway today. They start on tour in two months, so we’re going to have to find a replacement for her. I’ll miss her, but it’s a wonderful break, and she’d be wrong to turn it down. Some of the other cast members have done well, too, but I don’t want to bore you with a lot of details about people you don’t know, and don’t really care about. It’s enough to say that we all feel that we’ve hit a jackpot. Finally, there’s me. I don’t have any real offers yet, or anything like that, but I did get some really good notices—you’ll see when you read them—and two producers have sent me nice notes asking me to come to see them when I have time. But I did get one very important thing out of it already. I have an agent! That may not sound like much, but the good agents won’t even talk to a beginning actress. I have been signed by N.A.R. (National Artists’ Representatives) and they’re nearly the biggest in the business! Randy says that being signed by them is almost a guarantee of steady work, so I guess I can really start to call myself an actress now! It’s a good thing, too, because school is coming to an end, and unless I want to go back to Rockport and college, I’m going to have to keep acting and making a living at it. Don’t misunderstand me, Jean. I have nothing against college. In fact, I really miss it sometimes, the same way I miss you and a few of my other good friends. But it just isn’t acting, and for me, nothing will ever be as good as being on stage! I wish you could come to New York next week with Mother and Dad when they come to see the play, but I know how busy you are with school. If we’re still running by summer, will you make the trip? But of course we’ll still be running by summer! We’ve got a hit! And we know it! and there’s nothing better than that! More next time, from Peggy |
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