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When Father John brought My Dear Children to Manhattan, Diana was on hand for the opening—and on guard. She was on guard against Father's estranged fourth wife, jello-eyed Elaine Barrie Jacobs, who, enmeshed for the occasion in a gold net dress, was already clamoring for "24 hours of bliss." Later, in a crowded and craning nightclub, the young women engaged in five hours of psychological warfare over the old man. Said Diana: 'Either she leaves or I do." Fifteen hours later, polishing off his whiskers like a pleased tomcat, John Barrymore emerged from the Hotel Navarro, told reporters: "I'm back with my sweetsie now."
John repeatedly warned Diana not to try Hollywood yet awhile. When she did (last January) he cried: "At last my daughter can support me." Diana took care not to run up a Barrymore private reputation in private life before her Barrymore professional reputation was secure. On the set (where even strong men quailed at the thought of a female John with a life expectancy of 40 years of bounce) she took her lickings (there were plenty) with a good grace. She worked hard.
In Between Us Girls the beatings Diana took were physical as well as spiritual. She slammed her coccyx around with such conviction in the skating scene that they had to hire a masseuse. And from a moment in which Robert Cummings is supposed to slap her face, she learned Art's most cherished trade secret: One Must Suffer. She also taught it to Cinemactor Cummings. Cummings, a gentle young man, could not bring himself, after 22 tries, to sock Diana hard enough. At the 23rd take she kicked him in the shin with her high heel and he smacked her knock-kneed. Said Diana, without rancor: "If I hadn't done something, it could have gone on like that all day."
But the scene that has done most to enhance Diana's Barrymore reputation was the balcony scene from Romeo & Juliet which she played with her father last winter on Rudy Vallee's radio program. During rehearsals she uttered girlish spontaneities like "I'm so warm I'd like to rip this dress right down to the navel." But on the air she was a luminously sensitive Juliet. Ogling his daughter fondly in his dressing room afterwards, Old John cried: "You can bet the whole damn family was listening in and proud of the job she did. It was a damn good job, too; and if you don't believe that you can — — — — — !"
A Yank at Eton (M.G.M.). Timothy Dennis (Mickey Rooney) is as American as Peck's Bad Boy, and a good deal noisier. He did not want to go to Eton, but when his mother (Marta Linden) marries an Englishman (Ian Hunter) Timothy can't escape it. Right off he makes friends with a cute little Lord (Raymond Severn), whom he calls Inky, and an enemy of Ronnie Kenvil (Peter Lawford). Tim's stepbrother Peter (Freddie Bartholomew) tries to arbitrate, but Tim doesn't like Peter either. By the end of term he has democratically banged his head against every Eton tradition. Between-terms he causes the death of his stepfather's finest jumper. In the end he does the U.S., himself and Eton proud.