The Reel Life Of Bobby Jones

When the film was actually shown it ended with a brief musical passage of a Charleston dance tune, played by an unidentified Chicago-type band, and Keeler's deep voice saying, "Watch for the next episode, The Short Approach Shot to the Green, in the Bobby Jones series, How I Play Golf, coming to your theater soon." If viewers did hurry back for the next episode they saw Charles Winninger, a short, irascible comedian who usually played businessman roles, neglecting his office to practice chip shots. He hits them worse and worse until he is finally rescued by Jones. The story in this case could be disregarded, and Jones's demonstration was largely in slow motion. "We burned up a couple of cameras trying that," Marshall recollects. "We didn't have the gear of today."

The third episode, The Niblick and Bunker Shots, opens in a mansion. The butler enters. "Yes, Wilson, what is it?" says a tall, stately lady in an evening dress.

"This is getting very discouraging," says the butler, "your husband two hours late for dinner every evening."

It turns out that the husband, Huntley Gordon, a distinguished actor usually cast as a diplomat, cannot get his ball out of a sand trap. Jones's part in this one consists largely of a slow-motion demonstration in which he plays six shots in a row out of the bunker and right to the pin.

Part four, or Niblick, Medium Irons and Long Irons, revolved around the troubles of Leon Errol, who refused to use a mashie niblick. Except for W. C. Fields (and Jones himself), Errol gave the best performance of any of the big theatrical names. Then 50, he was at the high point of his long career. His rubber-legs act, in which his knees invariably gave way at some critical moment—when he was a waiter carrying a tray through a crowd, or in some situation requiring great dignity—had made him world famous. In the Jones movie Errol's knees gave way just as he started to drive, but he did not belabor the act; it was merely another problem that added to his dismay. His main difficulty was trying to keep his ball from hitting a tree—the same tree. He obstinately refused to use a mashie niblick, but every time he hit with the club of his choice his ball struck the tree and bounced back at him. Jones finally rescued him by demonstrating the right use of the proper club. Jones swung easily and the ball went over the tree.

The next reel, The Medium Irons, was a departure from the format used up to this point. It involved a group of child actors, including Junior Coghlan and a 5-year-old named Georgie, who was known as the kid everybody would like to spank. Georgie strays away from the older boys to watch Jones practice. When the other youngsters find him, they all fire questions at Jones about the game. This provides Jones with an opportunity—rare in the reels thus far—to discuss golf without comedians interfering. Georgie, meanwhile, falls asleep, and the reel ends with a rather curious scene of Jones, looking like a genuine professional actor by this time, picking him up and carrying him to the clubhouse. "An exceptionally good reel," said Motion Picture Herald, noting that it was "additionally enjoyable for the kids."

But part six, The Big Irons, returned to slapstick. Guy Kibbee was the supporting star, a bald-headed comedian who usually portrayed a henpecked husband, for which there appeared to be a limitless supply of scripts. In his effort with Jones he is an employer who threatens to fire Hal Goodwin because Goodwin is wasting his time playing golf. Goodwin was a leading man at the time, a lanky, easygoing character, esteemed as one of the better golfers in Hollywood.

But Kibbee himself sneaks away from the office to practice. On the opposite side of a hill Goodwin is explaining to Jones that he is hooking his iron shots. He demonstrates, and the ball flies over the hill and hits his boss in the rear. "I'll report this to the greens committee," says Kibbee, unaware of where the ball has come from. Goodwin tries another shot. This one hits Kibbee just as he is bending over to tee up his ball. "You can't tell me somebody isn't doing that on purpose!" Kibbee exclaims indignantly, and rushes over the hill for a confrontation with his tormentor, only to find that his own employee is responsible.

Jones's demonstration of the right way to use a two-iron and his discussion of the swing are barely enough to keep Goodwin from being fired. And Jones is equally hard-pressed in the next part, The Spoon, Brassie and Driver, to prevent Zelma O'Neal from divorcing Warren William, the suave sophisticated troublemaker and home-wrecker, because he is neglecting her for golf.

Sometimes the stories that introduced those instructional were so interesting that everyone, including Jones, really acted in them. Number eight, The Brassie, was a case in point. It opens with a roadster speeding down a tree-lined road past a country club. A limousine pursues it. Motorcycle cops stop the roadster, which contains Loretta Young, who is eloping with Allen Lane, a curly-haired young leading man. Claude Gillingwater, a tall, thin, Louisiana-born actor featured in such Mary Pickford gems as Daddy Long Legs and Tess of the Storm Country, piles out of the limousine, determined to prevent his daughter from running away with Lane. Just then a golf ball flies through the open car window. Forgetting his domestic problems, Gillingwater rushes the entire party onto the golf course, where he finds Bobby Jones.