HISTORY LESSON: Follies Girls to Leading Ladies

Paulette Goddard in a very elaborate get-up when she was
part of the Follies.

Hollywood and Beauty are nearly synonymous terms; Hollywood and sex are perhaps even more interchangeable. Aside from invigorating storylines and their emotional relevance, the movies have always offered us perhaps even more profoundly another source of satiation for our very ravenous eyes. Hitchcock wasn't barking up the wrong tree when he made Rear Window, starting a discussion on the obsessive and at times creepy voyeuristic tendencies of mankind. Watching gorgeous bodies in motion, observing creative and aesthetically appealing mise en scene compositions and camera angles, has made us all rabid devotees of theaters, televisions, and now iPads. But we didn't always have the movies. Before that, there was theater, vaudeville, travelling acting troupes... But nothing would produce the glorious collaboration of beauty and sex appeal, nor unleash it upon a grateful public on such a grand scale, as the brainchild of Florenz Ziegfeld: The Ziegfeld Follies. Using the knowledge that men enjoy few things more than looking at beautiful things, and enlisting the aid of a myriad of women who enjoyed the power of being the objects of male desire and adoration, Ziegfeld started the Paris-inspired Follies in New York in 1907, renaming it the Ziegfeld Follies in 1911. By 1913, The New Amsterdam Theater had become its home, with 1800 seats and shows going all the way up to the rooftop, where The Danse de Follies took place. While some regarded these extravaganzas as rude, offensive, and exploitative, you couldn't argue with box-office revenue. The public had spoken; they liked what they saw.

Chorus girls light up the stage.

The shows weren't as simple as strip-teases: there was elegance, detailed costuming, fantastical imagery, and romanticized story-telling. Sure, every once in awhile girls showed up buck naked, but in these cases, they were always forced to remain stationary so that the show did not become graphic or "lewd." It was only the glamorously bedecked females that were able to move and shake. And these women weren't frowned upon; they were adored. Wealthy businessmen, most of them older, near to retirement and enjoying their years of hard work, spent the late night hours paying it off on the numerous lovelies who danced and sang for them on stage. Of course, performances by comedians like Eddie Cantor were also intermittently featured, but that's not what the public came for. Tickets to get in were expensive, so only the elite could afford them, which also added to the acceptance of the shows as "classy." Because of the glamour and fashion, women came too, and the shows became hailed as legitimate and invigorating entertainment... with a side of naughty. The same reception would not have resulted in poorer districts that lacked the cash for flash. Working girls fought their way into the Follies, both to have a job that often paid more than their fathers were making, but also to hopefully land a "sugar-daddy." For some, a little gold-digging went a long way. For others, their brief moments on the stage only served as a stepping stone to higher aspirations. Many Hollywood leading ladies got their start spanking the planks at the scandalous Follies. It proved to be a wealthy source of education in terms of how to use sex appeal and feminine charm to demand attention. While some may have been embarrassed at their humble, fleshy beginnings, they often had to admit that the experience helped them establish their later film careers. In this respect, the days with Zeigfeld were not merely moments of youthful folly.


Olive Thomas:

Olive arrived at the Follies in 1915. A great beauty, it wasn't long before she became a main attraction, of course her ongoing affair with Florenz also helped her rise in the ranks. She was assigned to more and more scenes, got to wear the most elaborate and elegant costumes, sang solos, and accrued scores of admirers-- including a German ambassador who once gave her a $10,000 string of pearls, (that's $100 grand today). The era when Ollie was a part of the Follies is often remembered as the best, due to the epic stage designs by Joseph Urban, but the shows would continue into the early thirties. In the 1910s, girls would sometimes stroll through the crowds of appreciative spectators wearing negligees covered by several helium balloons (see Olive left). The men in the crowd would use their cigars to pop the balloons, slowly revealing more girl and less latex. The girls also played games to entertain themselves while onstage, such as competing to see who could hit the most bald heads with their tossed garters. While performing in the Midnight Frolic, which was slightly more risque, Olive was also one of the many girls who danced on the infamous glass walkway, which Florenz had built so the men could sit beneath the high-kicking ladies with a... better view. Like most of the girls working at the Follies during these early, rebellious years, Olive didn't take the whole thing too seriously. She felt no guilt or embarrassment with regard to her employment; she was laughing all the way to the bank, and in an era when women still had little authority-- indeed, not even the right to vote-- a position in the Follies was one of the most powerful positions a girl could hold. Olive tarried at the Follies for 2 years, and then left the stage for the screen. But, during her time with Ziegfled, she was numero uno. As the "Most Beautiful Girl in the World," she was featured in a routine that showcased various women of different nationalities walking down into a large cauldron of sorts. Then, emerging from the melting pot came the sum whole of their parts: God's perfect creation, Olive Thomas. She was the ultimate, male dream.


Barbara Stanwyck:

Back when Barbara was still known as Ruby Stevens, she was a feisty and ambitious youth determined to overcome her impoverished lifestyle. Toughened up after her mother's death and her father's abandonment, Ruby spent most of her tender years escaping from foster families until she completely dropped out of school and started looking for work on her own. By the age of 14, she was already pounding the pavement, and having been inspired by her elder showgirl sister Mildred and the acting of silent film star Pearl White, she decided to become a performer on her own. Driven by an unrockable focus, there was little that was going to get in her way, which, despite her unconventional looks, allowed her to force her way into the mainstream. Allegedly, an audition landed her a gig in the chorus of the Follies for both 1922 and 1923, when she about 15 or 16-years-old. She also participated in various other chorus girl acts after leaving the Follies, but the hardened youngster wasn't satisfied with merely smiling and looking pretty, and her great strength and passion for honest and deeply felt work would soon take her from the stage to the screen, where even after her death she maintains a reputation as one of cinema's greatest, most professional actresses.


Louise Brooks:

Louise started out her performance career as a dancer with absolutely no ambitions to go into acting. As such, she was much more comfortable performing on stage under the tutelage of the illustrious dance instructors Ted Shawn and Ruth St. Denis than she would ever be before the camera. After learning from the masters, she performed with Ted and Martha Graham in the Denishawn company, but was later fired by Ruth for her inability to "co-operate." Louise then found herself a part of George White's Scandals, a contemporary of the Follies, but quit to follow her friend Barbara Bennett to Europe. When she returned, Florenz Ziegfeld scooped her up, and she began dancing at the Follies of 1925. Florenz was impressed with Louise, and soon she was climbing the ranks (literally) and was placed at the top of those notorious Follies girl-pyramids. During her time there, she also befriended fellow performer W.C. Fields, though his routines in the show were far different from her own. Will Rogers was also a member of the company at that time, as was Paulette Goddard. Louise was finally wooed by Walter Wanger to Astoria's Paramount Studios, where she begrudgingly started taking on film work. She considered it a mere experiment when she made her debut in Streets of Forgotten Men, however, she would soon become one of Hollywood's brightest stars. The city girl was about to move West.


Marion Davies:

Marion Douras too came to the Follies in her youth, but she may have had a little help securing a spot in the chorus. She was already working as a chorus girl in various shows, along with her sisters, by the time she met William Randolph Hearst in 1915. She was appearing in the Irving Berlin musical Stop! Look! Listen! at the time, in which she appeared in the number "The Girl on the Magazine Cover." Hearst definitely noticed her, despite the fact that she was an awkward beauty with a stammer. Her light personality and large eyes won him over, and he started flattering her with flowers and gifts. She wasn't the only lovely he was courting, indeed he had a reputation with show girls (he had even married one, Millicent Wilson), but soon Marion would become the only real woman of interest in his life. He arranged to have some special photos done of Marion at Campbell's Studio to test her star power and promote her. Marion was fairly clueless as to what was going on, and was uncomfortable when she spotted Hearst sitting by the camera watching her. Noticing her discomfort, he in turn got embarrassed and left. He would begin courting her in earnest and started heavily publicizing her career in his many papers, which eventually helped to land her a spot in the Follies in 1916. Marion, who had by now changed her name to Davies, didn't shy away from the attention; it was a way to support herself and her family. She later admitted that she had started out a gold-digger only to surprisingly find herself in love. She didn't tarry long in the Follies, for Hearst was determined to make her a star in the movies. As was Marion's character, she just kinda went with it, and it paid off in full.

 

Many other girls paid their way to fame in the Follies, including Joan Blondell, Mae Murray, Josephine Baker, Gyspy Rose Lee, Dolores Costello, Eve Arden, Irene Dunne, Mary Nolan, and Billie Dove (left). However, there too were a few who were turned down as being "not pretty enough," including Norma Shearer and Alice Faye-- of course, those ladies certainly proved their worth when the world fell in love with them on the silver screen. While the Follies shows at first appear to be nothing more than early strip-joints-- and perhaps when it all comes down to it, that's what they were-- somehow they remain something better. Before the great depression, they were an example of the grandeur, the wealth, and the glory of the almighty American dollar. Florenz Ziegfeld spared no expense when it came to his sexual extravaganzas, a flaw that would later send him into bankruptcy, but his big dreams echoed those of his thriving country. As America continued to play with the very thin line between artistry and deviance, between innocent sexuality and flat-out sin, the Follies reflected the most we could get away with. While some of the participating women may be mocked or criticized for their bartering of flesh for cash, the times they lived in did not promote the same sense of "wrongness" that today's feminists cringe at in retrospect. The female had not yet escaped her place in life as an object/wife/mother. The Follies were thus surprisingly a step in the right direction; a step toward female independence. For the first time, and on a grand scale on that large, vibrant stage, women were finally able to feel powerful. With men wrapped around their fingers and drooling at their feet, the Follies stage must have been one of the only places on earth that these ladies felt completely safe, completely in control, completely in command... even while scantily clad. After all, they couldn't very well have sold seats to a crude show if there weren't people willing to buy tickets.

An example of the mixture of sex and sophistication that

Ziegfeld brought to his shows.

MENTAL MONTAGE: Random Act(or)s of Kindness

The eternal Robin Hood, Errol Flynn, defends Olivia De Havilland's 

Maid Marian.

Our movie stars are our heroes. Whether fighting for true love, knocking the bad guys around, or even saving the world, they always come out on top, making us believe in our heart of hearts that somehow everything is going to be all right. Of course, after the director yells cut, these actors and actresses are brought back to earth with the rest of us, and their colossal onscreen efforts, more often than not, stand in sharp contrast to the normal, every day lives they lead. Thus, it is comforting to hear that someone we all admire is actually deserving of our admiration beyond the bounds of performance. The following stories introduce a slew of good deeds by our celebrity immortals, who in some way or other went above and beyond for their common man.

A little kindness goes a long way, so when a larger-than-life figure delivers a dose of goodness, it seems to speak in louder volumes than when the rest of us do it. There are certain individuals who used their power for good with regard to those beneath them on the totem pole. Par example: Robert Mitchum. The tough guy with a poet's heart (right) was always looking out for the little guy. When RKO cracked down on budgets and cut out donuts and coffee on the set for the cast and crew of 1951's His Kind of Woman, Bob was irked. He thought it was only fair that those who worked hard for the studio should-- at the very least-- get a good breakfast. Bob was known for being a hard worker and a punctual one, but he used his clout to needle the studio by coming to set late every morning after this. His reason? He was using studio time to shop for coffee and donuts for everyone on the set. It meant a lot to every one he worked with, and with the schedule lagging behind because of this minor heroism, the studio finally caved and returned donuts and coffee to the menu. Bob showed up for work on time from then on out.

Ingrid Bergman also lent a hand to a female co-star. Rhonda Fleming (left) worked with Ingrid during Spellbound, her first motion picture, with Hitchcock no less. Needless to say, she was a bit nervous, but she had no need to be. When she met the beautiful and illustrious Ingrid for the first time, Ingrid came up to her, shook her hand and said, "At last! Eyeball to eyeball!" Both of the women were tall, with Ingrid being 5'10" and Rhonda being 5'8", and the former was glad to not be hovering over the ingenue. They had few scenes together, but Rhonda got a chance to talk to Ingrid between takes. She confided that her young husband was overseas fighting in the second World War. Not long after, Ingrid would travel abroad to entertain the troops. When she landed in Germany, she made sure to look up Rhonda's husband and introduce herself, which was a real treat to him. She called Rhonda to tell her that her man was healthy and happy. It meant a lot to the young actress, and she worshipped Ingrid even more after that.

These helping hands on the professional level also extend to casting. More than one actor has aided a fellow struggling performer by insisting that he or she be given a certain role. Star of the Month Groucho Marx was instrumental in giving Marilyn Monroe her first big break. When casting began for Love Happy, the final of the Marx Brothers' films, three ingenues were brought in to audition for the role of the sexy client who comes knocking on Detective Sam Grunion's door (see right). The scene was brief, but it needed an eye-catching girl. So, the three women paraded in front of Groucho one at a time, and producer Lester Cowan asked which he preferred. Groucho replied, "You've gotta be kidding! How can you choose anyone else but that girl?!" He was of course, referring to Marilyn. He saw a potential in her, along with her extreme beauty, and gave her a major boost in her career. It was not the role of a lifetime, nor the one that would bring her notoriety, but with it she was able to increase her experience and her fan following. With Marilyn, it seems she was destined for fame, but without Groucho, who knows what would've happened?

Leslie Howard also had an opinion or two when it came time to cast The Petrified Forest (left) with Bette Davis. He had performed in the stage version with Humphrey Bogart on Broadway, and the two became good friends. Leslie was a bigger star at this point, but he was impressed with Bogie's talent and believed that his career would really take off if only given the chance. Initially, Warner Bros. didn't want Bogart to resume his role in the screen adaptation of the play, but Leslie used his star power to insist. In fact, he refused to appear in the film himself should Bogie be denied his rightful place opposite him. Humphrey indeed got the part, and though it was the later The Maltese Falcon that would push him over the edge into cinematic legend, he was forever grateful to his friend for this small favor. In fact, he would name his daughter Leslie Howard Bogart as a thank you.

Margaret Sullavan was equally instrumental in helping a young Jimmy Stewart in his early career. The two had met and dated briefly when Jimmy was stage-managing one of Margaret's plays. While she soon after rose to stardom via Only Yesterday and So Red the Rose, Jimmy was still feebly trying to make a name for himself. She never forgot the good-humored boy, though. So, when an opening came up for a male lead in Next Time We Love, she hand-picked him as her costar. The studio almost immediately reneged on the deal after seeing his inexperience in the dailies. Margaret fought for him though and rehearsed with him privately each night, (much as Barbara Stanwyck would do with the young William Holden during Golden Boy). Jimmy improved quickly and audiences responded to the pair. Margaret once again insisted on Jimmy when they re-teamed for The Shop Worn Angel. The film was such a hit, that MGM finally had to admit that they had quite the asset on their hands. Jimmy's star would continue rising thanks to performances in You Can't Take It with You and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, but Jimmy might never have 'Gone to Hollywood' had it not been for one of his biggest fans and best friends-- many gossiped that the two were engaged in a lifelong, unconsummated love affair. Their four films together remain classics, including the most memorable, The Shop Around the Corner (right).

Not all of these gifts remain in the acting circle; sometimes the goodness these performers did extended far beyond the confines of the movie set. In fact, in certain cases the personal stances they made had moral implications. For example, when Grace Kelly was dining at The Stork Club in New York in the early '50s, she couldn't help but overhear a ruckus that was taking place in the restaurant. Apparently, the notorious and talented Josephine Baker was being denied entre due to her skin color. Grace was outraged! She rose from her chair, walked over to the commotion, grabbed Josephine by the hand, and stormed out, vowing never to return! Josephine, who was normally much more extroverted, (see left), was quite shocked to see the iconically placid ice queen playing the raging heroine! Grace proved to be an ally, and from that night on the strangers would indeed became good friends. Grace never did return to The Stork Club, and when Josephine died of a stroke in 1975, Grace continued her generosity by paying for her funeral expenses and arranging for her to be buried close by in Monaco.

John Garfield is often cited as the pre-method "method" actor, paving the way for Marlon Brando, Maureen Stapleton, and Eli Wallach with his raw intensity and honesty. These qualities followed him off the soundstage. Often playing edgy, hard-knock characters who yet maintained an uncanny likability, he was a bad boy that audiences embraced, much as they had James Cagney's anger fueled characterizations. The world that Garfield was raging against was the same one viewers existed in all the time in the real world. They trusted him, believing he would never let them down. They weren't wrong. When John (right) was called before the House Un-American Activities Committee as a witness, his career was put in jeapardy if he refused to "name names." However, just as in his films, John was no rat. He kept his lips sealed, refusing to throw any friends he had under the bus. Though he himself was not a communist, he believed that in America everyone should be entitled to the freedom of thought at the very least. He said, in effect, "No one likes a snitch." His career started to decline after this action, and he would pass away not much later in New York due to a heart attack, though many would claim it was HUAC and his treatment by the industry afterward that killed him. The legend of his acting and his courage has enabled him to have the last laugh.

There too are legitimate heroes and lifesavers in the world of cinema. John Gilbert was a swashbuckling lover onscreen, often saving actresses like Eleanor Boardman (left in Bardelys the Magnificent) or Norma Shearer from danger. However, in reality, it would be his own daughter, Leatrice Gilbert (Fountain) whose life he would legitimately save. John had divorced from Leatrice Joy in 1925 shortly after baby Leatrice was born. It left him brokenhearted. Because John was still in love with his ex-wife, it was often difficult for him to be around her, which put a great deal of distance between him and his daughter. However, he was always watching. One day, when living with her mother near the beach, Leatrice ventured out too far in the waves and began to drown. Before she knew what was happening, she was pulled back onto the beach. As she regained consciousness and got her bearings, she soon realized that the handsome rescuer looking down at her was her own father! John scolded her for swimming out too far, sent her back home to her mother, and disappeared almost like a dream. The man who had seemed so distant was in fact her guardian angel.

Finally, Lon Chaney was the soldier of pain for nearly the entire world. The underdogs, the hardened criminals with aching hearts, and the forgotten men were all represented by him (see his dark side, right, in The Blackbird). No one understood sorrow like Lon, and no one fought so hard to give his performances the vitality and brutality of the hard truth. Though very secretive in his private life, those who befriended and worked with him got to catch a glimpse of the kind and decent man behind the myth. Whether preparing Christmas cards for the entire lot or seeing to it that work always ended at five-- even if production was put behind schedule-- just to give the extras another paid day of work, he won the respect of many he met. It would have fooled many fans, whom were often left quaking in their boots, to know what a gentleman and gentle man he truly was. But Lon knew the power of his dark image and used it. For example, one day someone happened to pass him on the lot and saw that he was picking up a nest of fallen birds. Lon cupped the chirping creatures delicately in his hands and placed them gently back into their tree. When he saw that he was being watched he said, "Whatever you do, don't tell anyone. Everyone thinks I'm so hard-broiled, I'll never live it down!"

One more accurate example of heroism occurred when Lon was just starting out at Universal with Carl Laemmle. At this time, the many actors were sharing dressing rooms, which were small and cramped-- far from the lavish star apartments they would later become. In fact, at one point he and Jean Hersholt shared a dressing room! Universal City was like a happy home for these thespians. A unique and independent movie town, everybody knew everybody else. They were like family. It was not all fun and games however. Lon once passed the dressing room of a young actress, whom he must have heard weeping in pain. Upon investigation, he discovered that the girl was suffering the consequences of a botched abortion. The details of the occurrence are quite fuzzy, primarily because whatever happened, Lon kept a secret-- he was not one to gossip, particularly about the sad case of a troubled young girl-- but it is known that he saved her life. The girl had allegedly had an affair with a prominent, unnamed director, become pregnant, and tried to self-induce the abortion. Lon arrived in the nick of time, picked her up, and carried her to the studio hospital. Had he not been passing at that moment and offered his services to the distressed stranger, whose life was literally slipping away, she may have become yet another one of Hollywood tragedies. (Lon shows his softer side, left, with a gorgeous Joan Crawford in The Unknown).


Whether extending a hand to a friend in need or giving a boost to a complete stranger, these few stars proved themselves to be worthy of the iconic heroism often bestowed upon them by fans. Few knew about the behind-the-scenes gestures that made them flesh and blood champions, choosing instead to worship these golden idols for their cinematic performances. Both sides of the coin are admirable, but the aforementioned little bits of information make the magic they produced on the screen shine much more brightly. Perhaps the elusive "it" factor people can see echoing out from the eyes of their favorite personalities often has a great deal to do with the genuine goodness within.