Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 31, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 February 1913 — AUGUSTUS PHILLIPS GETS A WRITE-UP [ARTICLE]

AUGUSTUS PHILLIPS GETS A WRITE-UP

Success With Edison Motion Picture Co. Recorded by the Motion Augustus Phillips, a Rensselaer boy who has been successful to & marked degree as an actor on the stage and in motion picture acting, his career in the latter having been as a member of the Edison Company, comes In for a good write-un in the current number of the Mo tion Picture magazine. A reporter preluded his story of Mr. Phillips by a discussion of Brooklyn as an unusual city in Its theatrical tendencies. The story as told by the reporter then runs: To have been a principal in one of these theatrical mills for any length of time, and j retain popularity and health, fequire almost superhuman persistency—yet Augustus Phillips, the gentleman that I was delegated to interview, has been, until very recently, the leading man for the Spooner Stock Company, Brooklyn’s pet stock, for over seven years. It’s a record to be proud of—seven years! Mr. Phillips’ persistency held out, his popularity held out, nay, increased, but his health finally gave out. After a short period of rest In the west, he came east again and joined the .Edison Company. When the photoplays featuring him are shown in Brooklyn, it’s like an old and trusted friend come back—and tho girl that gives you your change can tell you the result better than I can. Mr. Phillips is a bachelor, has not deserted Brooklyn in the flesh, either, and lives at the famous Elks Club on Schermerhom street. Thither, one evening recently, I wended to meet him. He doesn’t make up much on the stage, less for pictures, and, as he Joined me in the big grill-room, I had no trouble in recognizing hinq The nicest thing about him, I should say, is his absolute freedom from stage manner or accent. Ho doesn’t “eawnt and “shawnt,” nor shake hands unnaturally. He neither wears silk monogramed hosiery, nor smokes his cigarets that'way. Too bad, girls, but he's natural enough to be one of the family. While he sat me down, and made me at\home in the organization where many famous Brooklynites gather, I studied his physical being quite closely. I should say ne weighs about 160, perhaps slightly more, stands a little over 5 feet 10 inches, and has a chest, legs, and shoulders in excellent proportion. His attitudes and carriage are easy, graceful, almost restful to the observer, and I am positive that he does not "study his pose'* when in professional harness. His eyes are a clear, dark blue, with thick, crisp, black hair as a Contrast. One could guess that he had grown up out-of-doors—an Indiana farm, by the way—for his gestures are typically American, and his skin has never lost quite all of its thousand coats of tan.

In answer to my questions, Mr. Phillips was loath to express himself at length on certain phases oi photoplay; said he had been in the business too short a time, but he considered ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade” and ‘The Sunset Gun” two of the finer kind. As for the ones he had taken part in he mentioned “The Insurgent Senator," “Lost: Three Hours” and “Love and Duty” as his favorites. When not out for a stroll, or a horseback ride, Mr. Phillips enjoys reading or loafing in the club. “Pretty tame, Isn’t it?” he admitted, with a smile, “but I’m what you might call a domestic bachelor, i; there is such a thing” He had to think a long while be fore acknowledging any personal characteristics, although most pro fessional men either have them on tap, or could have invented an ap pealing one. Finally he said: "At times, I like strongly to be alone. It gives me a chance to catch up with myself, so to speak, and I find it very restful, very curative, and—” “Very good society?” I suggested “No,” he said, without smiling, “but a little thinking of the past and of today adds a lot to one’* life. You can live over a lot, you know, and anticipation of the things of today gives tang to even the commonplace.” "Do you read much?” ‘Tea, mostly for relaxation: Gilbert Parker, Richard Harding Dayfo and other red-corpuscled writers." “And the photoplay, what doe* It need?” T won’t set up to be a critic,” he said, “though all my life has been in stage work, but improvements in lighting would add greatly to the art of picture make-up. At present character work loses a good bit of its effect by the failure of the camera properly to reproduce make-up, the lines of represented age often appearing flat and un-

real. This applies, too, to all sorts of character work and Its endless variety of make-up.” It was only at this late stage of our conversation that Mr. Phillip*, in illustrating his points, apprised me of the variety of his stage career, for I gleaned that he had been, among others, with the Fifth Avenue and Lincoln Square Stock companies of New York, the Alcazor of San Francisco, and in the original companies of ‘The Wolf,” “Miss Ananias” and "The Fair Rebel" Such is modesty. But, in justice to oneta sell it shouldn’t be carried too far. Mr. Phillips believes in even a more strict censorship of Aims, or else separate the sheep from the goats, and have only good photoplays in high-class houses, and rice versa He told me, at parting, that he was very timid as to the result of his own first work—the technique is so different from the stage—and that if he could have had his way, he would have done it aU over again. Now I think I saw almost his first release, in which he acted the part of a divinity student with sparring tendencies, and used his knuckles with happy and adroit results on the cad son of his father’s fiancee. “So much for modesty” I meant to have reminded him: “you pot your first success over the light* with a punch, and now that you have arrived—a full-fledged starin picturedom. you call in old maid modesty to turn off the lights.” ‘ The jiffv curtains are a feature of the ROH ears that are meeting with instant favor by the public.