The Conrad Veidt Society

Article from ''Picture Show'' Magazine

Probably 1936

Calling on Conrad Veidt at his Hampstead home is one of the most delightful experiences the social round of British filmland has to offer.

The reason lies not only in the house, but also in the personality of the tenant. Be it villainous or valiant, there is something 'human' and appealing about every role Veidt, the actor, plays on the screen. But none of these roles has ever given us more than a glimpse of the real 'Connie' Veidt to whom I am going to introduce you this week.

From the minute you enter the bright red gate of ''Milestones,'' you feel that this could only be the home of a personality. Of unusual but artistic design, and standing farther back from the road than its neighbours in this terrace, it is at once dignified and intriguing.

No sooner has the maid answered my ring than my host appears to greet me in the hall. His welcome is spontaneous, friendly, and as informal as the grey flannels and suede golf jacket he is wearing. Typical of the real 'Connie' that. He knows that I have come to visit him as he is in everyday life so he doesn't bother to 'dress up'.

Introductions over, he escorts me to the living room, and never was a room more aptly named. ''It is here in this room, '' he once told me, ''that I study my parts, write my letters, meet my friends, and dream my dreams. It is in short, the cog around which my whole life revolves.''

The huge red brick fireplace, occupying almost all of one side, catches my eye, and the fascinating corner windows, beautifully engraved grandfather's clock, rich silken sofas, antique cabinets and chairs, combine to create an impression of peaceful old-world charm. Willow pattern plates and brassware adorn the cream distempered walls, and above the Queen Anne writing desk there is a delightful oil painting, an English village scene, by David Wilkie.

'Connie' smiles as my admiring glances wander round the room. ''I am so sorry,'' he says, ''that my wife is not here to show you round. But she has gone to Austria where I will join her next month with my small daughter, Viola. She is at school in Switzerland you know and every year we have this holiday together. So you see I am a lonely grass widower at the moment! But I will do my best and am sure I speak for both of us when I say that this is our favourite room and that we love it, for the same reasons. It is quiet, it is restful, it is comfortable, and to us these things are the real essentials of life.''

That last sentence tells you interesting things about 'Connie's' character. Only very seldom will you find the Veidts' 'going places'. Both of them would much rather stay at ho

I see that 'Connie' is edging towards the art [?] green curtains behind which lies the dining room. Papered in dull gold and furnished in oak with red upholstered chairs, it is a compact, cosy room which once more reflects his love of charm and comfort rather than grandeur. Tall French windows open on to the lawn where he likes to bask in the sun - when, as he says, ''there is any sun to bask in.''

I have told you that parties are the exception in the Veidt home. That is true. But informal little dinners are different, and many famous folk have broken bread with 'Connie' and his wife in this homely room. His present friends in British pictures frequently drop in of an evening for friendly chats, and last summer Marlene Dietrich spent a Sunday talking of the happy back-stage days in Berlin when 'Connie' was already a star and Marlene an ambitious little fraulein fighting her way to fame.

As we pass through the hall and up the solid mahogany staircase to the bedrooms, I admire the beautiful etchings and prints of dogs and hunting scenes hanging on the panelled walls. Most of them are originals, old, and very valuable.

'Connie's' own bedroom is warmly decorated in rich golds and browns, relieved by the pastel green and grey cover of the long Queen Anne bed. It is essentially a masculine room and the business-like telephone is a reminder that a film star is never beyond the call of the studio, even while he sleeps!

A connecting door leads to Mrs. Veidt's room, a delightful symphony of rose, pale green, grey and cream, with French windows leading on to an ivy-covered balcony from which we can look over the roof tops of Hampstead.

''And that,'' says 'Connie', when we have returned to the lovely living-room, ''is my home! You may not think it a very remarkable home. I have no treasures to show you, no ancient curiosities or miracles of modern science - but then I do not want any of these things from life. What do I want? Ah! It seems only yesterday that you asked me that same question during one of our talks. And what conclusions did we reach? First we considered the 'haves'. We found that I had retained my health, achieved success in my chosen profession and won great happiness, crowned by the love, not only of the dear woman who is now my wife, but also of my small daughter, Viola. Ah, my friend, I could speak for hours of what that child's devotion has meant to me... but could any man ask for more from life than this, health, happiness and success? I think not, and yet we all have dreams. We all have a 'never-never land' where we think we'd like to live. But 'never-never lands', like 'lost horizons' have a habit of being impractical and I know that for me it is only an idle dream. Despite its idyllic invitation, I know that in my heart I want to go on acting.''

'Connie's' mention of his acting reminds me that the nature of his screen roles is creating quite a controversy amoung film-goers these days. There are some who would have him always the villain, but there are others who, while admitting his brilliance in these roles, would like to see him in gallant mood more often. What does 'Connie' himself think?

''It is,'' he says at length, ''not easy for me to answer that question. But I am glad you asked because these varied opinions from film-goers have been very much on my mind of late. To me, as an actor, any role which brings me into genuine emotional conflict with all the other characters in the story is interesting. I realise, however, that those who admire an actor's work do not wish to see him always in unsympathetic roles, and I welcome this opportunity of assuring you that the opinions expressed by filmgoers on both sides will be most carefully considered before my next film story is finally chosen. No, I cannot tell you about that yet. I do not know myself, and won't until I return from my annual holiday with wife and daughter - the nearest I can ever get to my never-never land.''

Of Conrad Veidt it has been written that ''no one will ever completely understand him.'' That may or may not be true. Personally, I have enjoyed his friendship for some years now and have grown to admire and respect him.

By that I mean that I admire his ability and culture but respect him for his sterling qualities of sincerity, kindness and never failing courtesy. And these I feel must surely be in all our thoughts as we say ''auf weidersehen'' to the friendly fellow whom his friends know as 'Connie' Veidt.