Leslie Howard ~ 30 Films Leslie Howard Steiner was born in Forest Hill, London on 3 April 1893. His father, Ferdinand was a Hungarian Jewish immigrant. His mother, Lillian (née Blumberg) was from an upper middle class family who initially opposed her marriage. Soon after Leslie's birth, the Steiners moved to Vienna, where a second child, Doris, was born. After a reconciliation between the Steiners and Blumbergs, Leslie's family returned to live in London. Even as a small boy Leslie had something about him - a naive, elusive quality - which rather perplexed his elders. I have since heard them confess that there were times when they suffered from occasional uneasy wonder as to whether the boy might really be a bit of a genius - and to English parents there is always something a trifle uncomfortable about the word genius. He was, however, so completely normal a youngster as to reassure them. A good all-round sportsman, he played rugger, cricket and hockey, and, above all, acquired the intense love of horses which is still a ruling passion with him. But even in those days he was laying the foundations for his successful stage career. I'm afraid his home- work at times must have been sadly neglected, as most of his spare moments were [given to the] studying and writing of plays. My earliest recollections are of Leslie deep in an armchair devouring drama, comedy, farce, from Shakespeare to Sutro, or shut up in his own special "den" writing pages of manuscript. Nothing pleased me better than to be allowed to sit with him (if I kept very quiet) while he scribbled away and occasionally read aloud to me bits that particularly pleased him. My mother still has, tucked away as a souvenir, some of his earliest efforts, painstakingly copied into exercise books in his schoolboy hand, complete with stage directions neatly underlined. I was terribly thrilled by those plays of Leslie's, especially when, at the early age of four, I was dressed up and allowed to appear on the "drawing-room stage" with various friends to fill up the cast, and Leslie alternating between the leading role and stage managership.1 Howard was educated first privately and then at Alleyn's School in Dulwich, where he was an undistinguished pupil. He did, however, show an interest in writing and theatre, an interest supported and encouraged by his mother, though not his father, who insisted that, on leaving, his son take a regular job. While he was at school, he wrote quite a number of plays, and he and his fellow-students acted in them. Nevertheless, he confesses, he never thought very seriously of the stage as a career and his writing plans failed to materialise. It was not really his fault that he didn't become an author. When the time approached for him to leave school, he thought very seriously about this writing business. Author- ship, though, is not one of those things you can take up as a career. No influence in the world can help a writer to succeed. Leslie knew this and so did his father. He was always something of a dreamer and writing had always figured very prominently in his dreams. But the dreams had to be abandoned. Writing could perhaps come later. Meanwhile, he had to have a job. Most prosaically, he went straight from school into a bank. He really doesn't know why, except that it was a job, and a quiet, safe one at that. He hated the work. It was tedious, and it bored him. He didn't remain in the bank for long, though. War clouds were gathering over Europe. That fateful August in 1914 arrived. War was declared. Leslie Howard joined up. He was youthful, healthy and yearning for adventure. The war came to him not as a tragedy but as an exciting opportunity to break away from his dull, conventional life. It uprooted him from his uncomfortable seat in the bank as nothing else could have done. So he went to the front and fought for his country ... and for his freedom. Out in blood-spattered France, he was one of the leading lights of those amateur theatrical shows the soldiers got up amongst them- selves.2 So, at the outbreak of war, Howard left Cox & Co. to enlist in the Northamp- tonshire Yeomanry. After training in Colchester, he served in France as a second lieutenant. Back home, shell-shocked, in May 1916 he resigned his commission. Two months earlier, following a brief courtship, he had married Ruth Martin. Being a tremendously keen horseman, he joined the cavalry, and was attached to the 10th Hussars. He never talks very much about the War or his war experiences. Soldiering was his duty, his career for the time being, and that was the end of it. In 1916 he was sent home on sick leave, and shortly after was discharged as unfit for further service.1 Ruth ... shared his love for the stage and was very supportive. Leslie's mother was a warm supporter, too. She loved theatre and had even acted in several amateur productions. So [after leaving the army, and rather than return to the bank] Leslie haunted a theatrical agent until he got a role in a touring company, and that was the beginning of his extraordinary career.3 With the confidence of youth he set out to break into the world of acting, without experience, without the help of influential friends - but with an engaging personality, and a grim determination to succeed. He had to succeed. He was a married man now. There was someone depending on him. They were difficult days, though. The man who was afterwards to command fantastic figures from the film studios knew what it was like to be anxious about every penny, to lay awake at nights worrying about the future. How to set about the business? The best thing, Leslie decided, was to hang around the agents' offices until something turned up. Better still, hang around one particular agent until, in sheer self defence, he found something for the young man. This was what he did. He found an agent who seemed to be quite promising. He plonked himself in his office. He was there early in the morning, and he didn't leave until night. This went on for several weeks. Then one day the agent smiled cheerfully. "I think I've got something for you. In the provinces, of course, and it's not much money. But it's a start." It was a very humble start. Leslie played a small role in Peg O' My Heart. He had no idea how he would shape as an actor on the professional stage. Didn't even know whether he would like it or not. He needn't have worried. He shaped pretty well and he loved the work. Acting got into his blood almost at once. As he himself has 2 said: Once you're in the theatre, you stay for life. Howard began acting in touring theatre companies and after minor roles in popular pieces such as Peg O' My Heart and Charley's Aunt,4 made his debut on the London stage in 1918 in Arthur Wing Pinero's The Freaks. In April of that year, his first child Ronald was born, named after Ronald Herrick, Howard's character in The Freaks. Further stage success followed: The Title by Arnold Bennett, Gladys Unger's Our Mr. Hepplewhite and A. A. Milne's Mr. Pim Passes By all drew favourable notices. During this period, Howard also obtained small silent film parts in The Heroine Of Mons (1914), The Happy Warrior (1917) and The Lackey And The Lady (1919). In 1919 Howard, Milne, Adrian Brunel (later a successful director) and others set up Minerva Films, which produced six comedy shorts in its two years of existence. Some of these films survive in the BFI archives. Four - The Bump, Twice Two, Five Pound Reward and Bookworms - were Milne-scripted, with the lead roles in the latter pair taken by Howard himself. The first time I met Mr. Milne was when I was engaged for the juvenile role in Mr. Pim Passes By. Later I induced him to write some scenarios for a motion picture concern I helped organise.5 In 1920 Howard officially dropped his surname to become Leslie Howard. After another strong showing in East Is West at London's Lyric Theatre, impresario Gilbert Miller cast him as Sir Calverton Shipley in his new Broadway production of A. E. Thomas's Just Suppose, which took the actor (alone - wife and child to follow) across the Atlantic for the first time. This gentleman was in charge of the stage door and of him I enquired the whereabouts of the actor-manager who had engaged me. I was told quite kindly that nothing could gain me admittance to him now as he was on stage conducting a rehear- sal of Just Suppose. "But I've just travelled three thousand miles for the express purpose of playing in that piece," I told him. "Surely I ought to be allowed in." "Really? What is the name?" he enquired, and I told him. "Not Mr. Howard of England!" "The same," I murmured nonchalantly. The effect was electric. He left me, rushed onto the stage and announced dramatically: "Mr. Howard of England is here!" Now I have been known as Mr. Howard of South Kensing- ton, I have even been know as Mr. Howard of London, but to be known as Mr.