HISTORY LESSON: TV Movie [Stars] - Part 2

The beautiful Ava Gardner shows her versatility as a special celebrity

guest on the quiz show "What's My Line?"

I Have to Be Home by 8:00, Because...!

There were definitely some major successes in the Movie to TV migration. Whether certain personalities were simply better suited for the small screen or were likewise more seemingly approachable and likable, there are a handful of Lords and Ladies who amplified their power simply by taking their comfy place in people's living rooms. One such person was comedian extraordinaire Groucho Marx (left), whose grease-painted mustache had long been replaced by the real thing. Always a popular guest and the hit of every party he attended, it only make sense that he be the favorite part of any piece of television he poked his ever-rolling eyes into. Not only was he regularly offered guest host spots on the likes of "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson" or "Tonight with Jack Paar," he also participated on "What's My Line?" and even an episode of "Hollywood Squares."

Clearly, America was still Coconuts for him. Thus, after an improvised radio broadcast with Bob Hope sparked the idea, he became the host of his own game show on NBC: "You Bet Your Life." If you've ever noticed that a duck is often associated with Groucho, look to this show for the reason-- in addition to Duck Soup, of course. The format was simple. Average, American guests would be invited on the show where Grouch' would improvise, make conversation with them, and poke fun (right). In essence, he used his wit to draw out many a laugh from the viewing audience as the embarrassed participants turned beet-faced at his shenanigans. Finally, the guest duo would be asked a series of questions from a category of their choosing. In addition to this, there was a "secret word" that Groucho would try to get the players to innocently say in the midst of conversation. If they accidentally uttered it, the infamous duck would descend from the ceiling with a $100 bill in his bill. The show was such a success that the metaphorical ball was later passed to Bill Cosby as host in 1992, but Groucho-- as usual-- was the instigator!

Women in particular seemed to have luck with television, as in the following two examples. Perhaps this is because actual housewives and stay-at-home moms were able to use TV as a daily gateway to the outside world, which their husbands so often took for granted. Having classy, strong, and relatable women telling their stories for them seemed to be a gift from heaven for den mothers, but the fellas enjoyed these shows too. The case of Donna Reed is particularly fascinating. In a little over a decade, Donna had worked her way up from supporting roles in Shadow of the Thin Man and The Courtship of Andy Hardy to an Oscar win for From Here to Eternity. A shrewd business woman, she experimented with television cautiously as it slowly gained its dominion, and in 1958 she signed on for her own series, appropriately titled "The Donna Reed Show" (left). 

Very similar to the recent hit "Leave It to Beaver, " the show was a tribute to the all American family-- or at least the all American family dream-- where misunderstandings and common family problems are humorously and touchingly dealt with. The moral of the show hit home for most viewers with its uplifting storylines, which boosted morale on the home front, and promised not so much that good will come if you do the right thing, but that doing the right thing is just the right thing to do. It was a huge hit that earned Donna a Golden Globe and ran successfully for 8 seasons. Finally, after preaching that a family that sticks together stays together, Donna was burnt out by the weekly demands of the show, and the series came to an end. Donna worked intermittently on other series-- "The Love Boat," "Dallas"-- but with the unprecedented success of the show behind her, she soon put TV behind her too.

Doris Day was always a fan favorite. With her cheery onscreen persona, bright and crystalline singing voice, and average American gal disposition, she became a huge movie star and an obvious candidate for television success. Yet, with a surprisingly complicated and sometimes devastating personal life contrasting her public identity, Doris's entertainment career was both an emotional saving grace and a hefty burden that added to the intensifying pressure cooker of her sanity. But, a girl's gotta eat. Thus, when her contribution to cinema came to a halt in 1968-- after television had more than injected its influence over the American way of life-- she made the jump to CBS to star in her own series: "The Doris Day Show." Despite the show's title, Doris's character was not named Doris Day on the show but Doris Martin-- just as Jean Arthur was Patricia Marshall on "The Jean Arthur Show" and Donna Reed played Donna Stone on "The Donna Reed Show." The lack of creativity in the show's title was simply a marketing ploy by the network to benefit from the celebrity's star power and get viewers to tune in. (Doris in the Season 2 Christmas Special, right).

With Doris, CBS knew they were getting plenty of bank for their buck. Doris's program ran for five seasons but progressed in a very peculiar fashion. The fish out of water plot line essentially followed Doris's widowed character and her two sons as they moved to the country from their posh city lives and bunked up at her family's farm. The usual chaos and hijinks ensued. Strangely, every season altered after the first, with Doris and her sons changing locales, she changing careers, and eventually the sons disappearing from the story completely. Still, the awkward nature of the storyline did not stop viewers from watching one of their favorite celebs every week. It did surprisingly well, and due to its lengthy run (in a world where most series were lucky to make it one season if any), it can be reasonably considered a bona fide success. 

After "The Doris Day Show" came to an end in 1973, Doris basically retired from acting, though she did have another series as a talk show hostess on a program entitled "Doris Day's Best Friends." On the show, she would reminisce with old showbiz pals about the good ol' days on the silver screen and, once again, allow the production company to capitalize off aging nostalgia for Hollywood gone bye-bye. Her first guest on the show was none other than Rock Hudson, her three time collaborator and good friend (left in Lover Come Back). This was, of course, a remarkable moment for viewers and Doris herself, who hadn't seen her former co-star in years. Unbeknownst to her, Rock was already deep in the throes of his battle with AIDs. He had been aware of his illness for a year, having been diagnosed in 1984. When he made his appearance on the show in 1985, his shocking weight loss and sickly disposition had a shattering effect on Doris. Rock would announce his disease mere days after the broadcast and would pass away in less than three months. Thus, what was meant to be a beautiful reunion was practically the bittersweet final note to her pitch-perfect career. "Doris Day's Best Friends" would continue for one season and 26 episodes. Aside from occasional personal appearances, Doris would bid Hollywood farewell, and much like her earlier Doris Martin character, return to a simpler and more private life away from chaos in Carmel, CA.

It's Show Time!

The business of Television is hard. No matter the talent behind the show's writing, nor the creativity of the storyline, nor the appeal of the performers, the comprised efforts don't always result in a hit. Nothing is surefire. All sorts of factors can effect a show's reception-- a competitive time slot, varying audience tastes, a poor chemistry amongst the cast, etc. What seems a possible runaway hit on paper can often tank on the air. Famous or not, TV is a gamble for anyone. A bunch of unknown, struggling actors shot to fame on "Friends" in 1994, and the show ran for 10 seasons; acclaimed actor Dustin Hoffman took at stab at "Luck" in 2011 on HBO only to receive poor ratings, and now the show's tenuous second season hangs by a thread. To even produce a pilot is a success. To be picked up by a network is a glory rarely received. To make it through an entire first season is astounding. Those few programs that run for years and really grip the public are pure miracles. There aren't many, and there are even fewer that will be remembered as classics after the series finale, but some of our superstar wonders were actually able to dine on an exclusive slice of TV heaven instead of sulking over a plate of humble pie.

Loretta Young was a lovely and vulnerable looking young girl when she landed her first major role in the Lon Chaney film Laugh, Clown, Laugh in 1928. Over the next 25 years, she would develop into a powerhouse female lead in numerous major motion pictures. Known as the "Iron Butterfly" for her killer combo of delicate, pre-Raphaelite beauty (left) and a tough and ambitious business savvy, Loretta boasts one of the most impressive resumes in cinematic history. Realizing quickly that television was the wave of the future, she wasted no time in jumping head first into the new medium. Her series, "The Loretta Young Show," was another anthology series that produced a fresh drama every week. She was the first woman to host her own show, and her grand entrance at the beginning of every episode in a new, drop-dead-gorgeous gown was the perhaps the most eagerly anticipated moment of the program.

Like Errol Flynn, Loretta would do an introduction at the episode's opening, and the story would commence with a different plot each week-- akin to the TV movie-- with varying actors. She sometimes would appear in an episode herself. The glamour plus the salivating drama made Loretta's show a huge success that ran for 8 seasons on NBC from 1953-1961. In 1963, she switched networks to CBS to appear in another series, "The New Loretta Young Show," this time strictly acting as a widow who supported herself as a freelance writer. Yet again, though the title bore her name, Loretta played character Christine Massey. The tone of the show bore touches of both drama and comedy, but it only lasted one season. Audiences apparently wanted Loretta to appear only as her glamorous self. Fifty-years-old by the time filming ended, Loretta enjoyed working on a few TV movies and settled into retirement a very wealthy woman-- not to mention a big and small screen legend.

The award for consistency and duration goes to one of the great funnymen of history-- and good pal of Groucho Marx-- Jack Benny (right). From vaudeville, to radio, to film, Benny seamlessly translated his humor to any given outlet. With his always immaculate comedic timing, hilariously underplayed facial expressions, and somehow likable buffoon characterizations-- imagine an uptight Steve Carell in "The Office"-- there was no one immune to his jocular abilities. Unafraid of being the butt of his own jokes, Benny's most infamous persona was that of the irritable miser who both refused to admit he was older than 39 and played the violin abominably (although he was a great proficient in reality). His great gag was the hold-up sketch. The mugger would point his gun and yell, "Your money or your life!" to which, after a breadth of silence and more prodding, Benny would reply, "I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" His great success, specifically on the radio on "The Jack Benny Program," was quickly transferred to television in 1950 on CBS where it ran for fifteen straight years.

Previous to this and during the show's run, he would make appearances on other programs, including the "GE True Theatre" and "The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show," but with  his own primetime spot, he blew all other competition out of the water. His was the show everyone wanted to watch and no one wanted to miss, including everyone from the town butcher, baker, and candlestick-maker to JFK himself. As was the general standard of the time, at each show's beginning, Benny would come out to greet the viewers with an opening monologue and likewise finish the show with a closer. In between, anything was possible in the life of Jack Benny. So closely was he identified with his TV character, that a cab driver, for example, was shocked to receive such a large tip from him in real life! In the end, counting its radio days, "The Jack Benny Program" ran for three decades, finally coming to a conclusion in 1965, the last year of which was filmed at NBC. Benny would bow out while still on top and his presence in the homes of many was deeply missed. Luckily, he would still pop up from time to time on "The Bob Hope Show"or "Kraft Music Hall" before his death in 1974.

Of course, despite Jack Benny's long term hold on the public, there is but one person who is forever identified as the all-time favorite TV personality: Lucille Ball. After struggling vainly for years in her attempts to become a film actress, Lucy could never seem to achieve success at the B-level of filmmaking. Despite her great beauty, there was an earthy, unfinished quality that kept her from being a glamour queen of the silver screen like Carole Lombard. Despite her talent in acting, audiences had trouble relating to her intensity or emotion the same way they could with Katharine Hepburn. It was her union with the ambitious Cuban bandleader Desi Arnaz and her coincidental gig on the radio program "My Favorite Husband" in 1948 that brought her the opportunity of a lifetime. When a deal was struck to take the show from the airwaves to the TV set, Lucy brought her husband and collaborator with her, and the rest is history for eternity. The over-the-top comedy of the Ricardos was hilarious, decent, and relatable. Through "I Love Lucy" (left), the lady herself proved that a woman could be both attractive and a total ham-- and even a basket case. Despite her frustrating antics and the unbelievable amount of trouble she caused each week, she also made a bold feminist statement that a woman need not be perfect to be loved. It was all the varying shades of both devotion and insanity that drew Ricky Ricardo to his red-headed, adorably vexatious bride. Through Ricky's performing career, the trials of parenthood, and from New York to Hollywood to Europe and back, the Ricardo family endured both despite and because of their mix of irritation and passion.

Unfortunately, the real life marriage of Lucy and Desi would not fare so well. Their turbulent and stormy union, which had made such beautiful music publicly, was a private Hell. The "I Love Lucy" show enjoyed six seasons of phenomenal success despite the increasingly venomous relationship the couple shared behind the scenes. Agreeing that the show was worth saving even if the marriage wasn't, "I Love Lucy" changed in format for its 7-9th seasons, becoming hour long episodes that roughly added up to four per year. The guest stars continued, with everyone from John Wayne to Milton Berle making an appearance at some point during the 9 years of "I Love Lucy" and  "The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour." Yet, it finally became clear that the temperaments of the two stars could not bear much more. The program came to a close in 1960 and Lucy left Desi and co-star William Frawley behind to start her own series with Vivan Vance, otherwise known as Ethel, who reluctantly agreed to continue the next chapter of the characters' friendship on "The Lucy Show" (right). This storyline involved the new lives of the widowed Lucy and the divorced Viv, which was clearly a popular plot instigator for a lot of aging female actresses on TV at the time. While Jack Benny-- who shot his own program at the Desilu Studios-- made a few appearances on this series, and several other guest stars popped in, the show's success would not match the brilliance of the original. Still, it lasted six more seasons and was later followed by "Here's Lucy!" which followed a new Lucy Carter as a widowed mother of teenagers again making it on her own. This made it for 6 more surprising seasons, mostly due to Lucy's power than to the show's material. Her final stab at TV came in the brief, single season series "Life with Lucy," now portraying Lucy Barker and her adventures as a grandmother. 

From 1950 10 1986, Lucille Ball made a huge impact on the world of Television, giving it an integrity born of her humanity, drive, and humor that made it more welcoming to those still-questioning film celebrities who feared this mysterious new vehicle for their talents. Clearly, not everyone would enjoy Lucy's success, and in truth, with her personal anxiety, she never really did either, but "I Love Lucy" in particular remains the show that took the little engine that could and made it an uncompromising force of overwhelming power. Today, because of the foundation that people like Ball, Benny, Young, and numerous other personalities of boob tube fame made, the world of television continues to grow exponentially. From "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson" (1962-1992), to "Bewitched" with Elizabeth Montgomery (1964-1972), to "The Cosby Show" with Bill Cosby (1984-1992), to "30 Rock" with Tina Fey and Alec Baldwin (2006-2013), the medium continues to expand. NBC, HBO, FX, sitcoms, soaps, dramas, live, recorded on DVRs, and available post-season on DVD, we continue to expand the possibilities of entertainment, which may not be as focused nor as controlled as it once was but is certainly more varied. Though the presence of thousands of channels can be overwhelming, there is literally something for everyone. Thus, single-theater towns temporarily inhabited by rotating cast of players merely passing through on their vaudeville circuit has become a chosen program on demand starring your favorite actors at the touch of your fingertips. 

Don Adams would portray the incompetent secret agent Maxwell Smart on "Get Smart" 

in the late 1960s on television and, in a role reversal, Steve Carell would bring
the same character to life in the movies in 2008.

While one may often question the integrity of "What Would Ryan Lochte Do?" one can be reminded of the great creativity and bold behind-the-scenes choices of programmers, producers, writers, and actors by seeing glimpses of past brilliance in today's more intriguing, provocative, and evocative series. Lucy can be found in Amy Poehler, the dramatic Loretta Young style may be glimpsed through series like "The Good Wife," and Jack Benny's unconventional family humor has been updated and modernized via "Louie." The couch has provided a more comfortable place for us to participate in and observe our ever-changing society as it grows, changes, and stays the same. And so, as Sonny and Cher said, "The beat goes on..."

HISTORY LESSON: The Scarlet "P'

Lupe Velez, her inner turmoil always secretly

simmering beneath her public facade.

The only thing more fearful than the wrath of God is the human finger of judgment. Human beings, while capable of great brilliance, kindness, and sympathy, are just as equally capable of hypocrisy, short-sightedness, and an indulgence in the ever-unfashionable superiority complex. From our long evolution from savage cavemen and women to "civilized" mankind, we have created certain societal structures that make life more functional and cohesive. Social mores, rules, laws, taboos, religious morals, and definitions of principle, have all woven together to create expected behaviors and ways of living. Unfortunately, just as much as man needs order, he rebels against it. Hence our inner cavemen convincing us to color outside the lines from time to time. Often times, it is the sexual impulse that gets us in trouble. Ironically, the simplest part of our nature is too the one that makes life so complicated. It would be nice if everyone followed the Cleaver family's simple steps to acceptance: a woman remains a virgin until marriage, wherein she is joined to a man earning a steady living, and they commence making perfect babies who follow their sterling example when the time comes. Raise your hand if you stuck to that path? Yeah. It's complicated, hence the slew of celebrity "Un-oh" moments that ended with the letter "P" -- Pregnant!

Pregnancy out of wedlock, at too young an age, with the wrong partner, etc, is hard enough. Having a baby in Golden Era Hollywood was harder. Celebrities had a stellar image to uphold. There could be no hint of scandal that could turn the public against the idols who kept the studios churning. Thus, if two unmarried lovers "got in trouble," the publicity department would do whatever was necessary to keep the information out of the press. But, if people did find out, an actress wouldn't be too surprised to find herself stripped of her contract and left in the cold. It was rough for women, as they literally had to carry the burden of their indiscretions and, more often than not, face the hurtful decisions and judgments to follow alone. In addition, actresses were openly encouraged to participate in the most popular form of Hollywood birth control: abortion. This wasn't just ever-so-delicately suggested by the big wigs when an adulterous affair went wrong. It was also inflicted on any pregnant actress in order to both a) keep her working and b) keep her figure. Thus, many women were intimidated and manhandled into choosing their careers over their unborn children. The emotional toll this took was obviously devastating, as it instigated desperate measures, (See the cases of Loretta Young (read here) or Lupe Velez (here), the latter of whom was so disturbed at her circumstances that she killed both herself and her child in one fell swoop).

Many women are rumored to have had abortions, which explains all those press releases from the early era regarding this or that actress being hospitalized for an "appendectomy." Everyone in Hollywood knew what that meant. The public might have had a clue, but most just assumed that California water induced a Hell of a lot of appendicitis. Marilyn Monroe (right) is often cited as one who obtained several abortions. How many of these claims can be confirmed is uncertain. It is, however, very likely that in her youth, she had to undo one or two wrongs, since she was allegedly passed around like a cigarette by the industry. Raising a baby alone would not only be incredibly difficult, but it would forever destroy her dream of becoming the greatest star in the world. If she did have an abortion or abortions, this would explain the difficulty she later had in conceiving. She must have naturally felt with every failure that she was being punished for her previous mistakes. As such, she was always very attentive to the children of her friends, and she took distinct pleasure in being the temporary step-mother of Joe Jr. ( as in DiMaggio), with whom she remained close after her divorce from Joe Sr. (She even spoke to Joe Jr. on the night of her death). Every future miscarriage she suffered, including one with Arthur Miller, was agonizing. She never fulfilled her desire for motherhood. (Although, there are conspiracy theories that she did give birth to, if you believe the BS, dozens of babies over the years, whom she gave up for adoption. The numbers are a little too steep to be believed).

Joan Crawford is another cinema siren who is often speculated to have had her share of abortions. In her case, this is often chalked up to her desire to maintain her youthful body and continue her reign as one of the Queens of Hollywood. This would make sense, as she adopted four children in time (another controversial story) but never bore any of her own. Whether Joan made this move to present the image of the loving movie star whom she thought the public wanted, or whether she did so to indulge her own maternal instincts, is still debatable. Probably, it was a little of both. As a girl with a complicated relationship with her own mother, she may have wanted to undo the wrongs of her upbringing by giving neglected children their second chance at a warm family life. There is continuing argument about just how good a job she did. The elder two children, who instigated the Mommie Dearest fiasco, would be combated in their sinister assertions by the younger two, who vigorously defended Joan as being a wonderful parent. Certainly, Joan may have had her issues, including a possible penchant for OCD, and as her career always came first-- her insecure way of overcoming her past and proving herself to the world-- she was not the prototype for a perfect mother. The idea of motherhood is much easier than the reality. (Joan strikes a maternal pose with adopted daughter Christina, left, who would later pen a scathing novel about her "motherly" attributes).

Some women fell prey to the pressures of the industry when addressing their pregnancies, but more interestingly, some were manipulated by their own mothers. Jean Harlow (right) is one example. Jean was one of few actresses in Hollywood-- joined by Carole Lombard and Audrey Hepburn-- remembered by every cast and crew member as being a true sweetheart. Her early death at 26 provoked a stunning silence on the MGM lot that few celebs have been able to equal (two others being Lon Chaney and Irving Thalberg). Jean's rise to fame was accidental. It had been her mother, the real Jean, who had wanted to be a star. Daughter "Harlean" had literally been in the right place at the right time when her call to the camera came, and soon her mother was riding her designer gowns all the way to the top. Jean became an overworked piggy-bank for her mother and sketchy step-father, Marino Bello. When Jean became pregnant by her first husband Charles McGrew, whom she wed at the age of 16, it was Mama Jean who insisted that her daughter get an abortion, so her rising career would not be interrupted, nor Mama's cash flow. Jean was distraught, as she had always wanted a simple life with children and her own family. Obedient as ever, the easily pressured Jean gave into her mother's demands. She spent the rest of her life enduring further heartbreaks: the death of husband Paul Bern, a divorce from friend Harold Rosson,  and a tortured love for William Powell, with whom it is speculated that she endured another abortion. She never seemed to raise a hand to defend herself against anyone, perhaps having already given up on a dream that she felt she no longer deserved. She died exhausted and heartbroken, though still brimming with kindness. Ironically, her nickname was "Baby." (Jean would gain notoriety for her platinum locks, but she seemed much more comfortable and natural on camera when she went dirty blond and played girls-next-door more like herself, right in Wife vs. Secretary).

Bette Davis seems like the kind of character who never bowed to anyone's will but her own. However, even she had a very close and complicated relationship with her mother, Ruthie Favor. Bette had always admired her mother, who had done more than her share in raising her two daughters (including the younger Bobby) alone after her husband left them. A woman with an aesthetic eye, the photographer and sometimes actress would influence her elder, more vibrant daughter Bette's interest in the arts. Bette was not exactly an easy child. Headstrong, and perhaps suffering from some level of OCD herself, it was always "her way or the highway!" She insisted on receiving money for dresses, purses, dancing classes, etc, and Ruthie always gave in for fear of Bette's tantrums. Shyer sister Bobby just sort of watched the madness while she disappeared into her own. When Bette went Broadway, the family joined as her coterie. It was all about Bette.

However, this resulted in an unnatural co-dependence between mother and daughter. Their rapport was intense, combative, yet loving. For all the yelling back and forth, they would defend each other with every breath in their bodies. So, when Bette found herself pregnant with first husband Harmon Oscar Nelson's child, it was the idolizing Ruthie who convinced her rising star daughter to have an abortion. Bette's career was just starting, and both she and Ruthie feared that any hindrance in her progress would be irredeemable. Bette deliberated the options, but she concurred with her mother. Oscar was not told about his unborn child until much later. It is alleged that Bette would have multiple abortions over the years, including one resulting from her affair with William Wyler, but the majority of claims are pure speculation. When Bette later had daughter, B.D, (above left) with William Grant Sherry, it is said that the same mother-daughter relationship continued. Bette took Ruthie's place; B.D. took hers. The cat fights continued.

And then... There are the scandals! Marlene Dietrich was known for seducing many of Hollywood's leading men, from John Gilbert to John Wayne. Needless to say, when she began filming on Destry Rides Again with everyone's favorite, regular fellow Jimmy Stewart, his chances of escaping her wiles were as slim as his waistline. The attraction was mutual (right). Ten years before he fell in love and wed his only wife, Gloria, Jimmy was one of the most eligible bachelors in Hollywood. Handsome, charming in his awkwardness, and riding the wave of an increasingly successful film career, he was very appealing to the opposite sex, if only because he seemed to be equally gentlemanly. Ginger Rogers herself would attest, when it came to dates, she preferred Jimmy and Cary Grant as her dance partners. When the more sensually provocative Marlene set her sights on him, and he caught a glimpse of her gams, it didn't take long for fire to ignite-- on and off screen.

Unfortunately, in the midst of their brief fling, Marlene got pregnant. As a married woman, in a very open relationship with husband Rudi Sieber, she could at least play the child off as legitimate. On the other hand, Jimmy-- according to her recollection-- was a nervous wreck! Firstly, he had committed adultery-- although Rudi didn't seem to mind a bit about his wife's infidelities, while he was openly living with his own permanent mistress Tamara Matul. More importantly, Jimmy was disconcerted at the idea that he was going to be the father of a child he couldn't even claim! Marlene said that Jimmy became the exact, stuttering replica of his onscreen persona: "W-Well, what-what, what're you gonna do!?" Marlene would state on the record that the baby just "went away," implying a miscarriage, but since she had already decided that she didn't want to have anymore children-- she had one daughter, Maria-- it is more likely that she chose a more forbidden solution to the problem. After this altercation, the romance between Jimmy and Marlene was finito.

Then, there is the much more sorrowful case of Patricia Neal and Gary Cooper (who ironically is also rumored to be the real father of Lupe's tragic baby). Coop had been a notorious womanizer, as his "aw, shucks" prettiness was like catnip to the ladies, who reacted to him much the same way as they did Mr. Stewart. However, while Jimmy's appeal was more accidental, Coop's was instinctual, and he didn't seem to turn away any prospects. He'd had intense relationships with Clara Bow and Lupe, and multiple  other flings while enduring his loveless marriage to "Rocky" Balfe, but his final great love affair was with his Fountainhead co-star, ingénue Pat Neal. A Kentuckian with an atypical, assertive beauty (left), a wonderful, deep voice that seemed to be coated with good Southern liquor, and an education in the more modern style of acting, Patricia didn't seem to be a good match for Coop. When he saw her testing for the role of "Dominique Francon," he thought she was "awful." However, once filming began, their attraction was immediate. Patricia fought her more primal urges until filming had completed, then on the night of the wrap party, the duo's affair began.

Friends of Gary would say that it was the happiest that they had seen him in years. Patricia was also in love and fascinated by the classic, older actor (25-years her senior) who had a quiet intelligence, elegance, and an astounding hold on his craft. So smitten was Gary, that he started attending Pat's classes with her, watching younger thespians developing a new take on acting. The pair's relationship endured its ups and downs, including Patricia's guilt, their inevitable lack of future, and Coop's continued philandering-- Pat once returned a pair of earrings that Coop had given her only to find that he had bought two more identical sets for other women. The final nail in the coffin was her pregnancy. Needless to say, despite her strength and determination that she could raise the child on her own, the resulting scandal would be something from which both performers would be unlikely to recover. In Pat's own words: "For over 30 years, alone, in the night, I cried. I cried over that baby... I had not allowed him to exist." Pat would eventually marry her only husband, Roald Dahl, and have five children during their 30-year union. She saw Coop alone only once more after their split. Much time had passed, and they were able to bury the hatchet and depart as friends. Their passion for each other had died with their child.

Yet, there has been at least one torrid Hollywood affair and adulterous conception that ended with a birth. I speak, of course, of Ingrid Bergmann and Roberto Rossellini. Ingrid's soft, ethereal beauty (right) and her emotional, instinctual performances had made her the new golden girl of Hollywood in the '40s, as well as Alfred Hitchcock's latest obsession. A woman in constant search of a father, she often found herself confusing her on-screen attraction for her co-stars spilling into her private life. Her marriage to  Dr. Petter Lindstrom, who actually used to ration her food (!), had offered her little comfort over the years, so she consistently took solace in the most familiar men in her life-- her leading men. Unfortunately, as soon as her films wrapped, so did her feelings. It seems the final call of "cut" always brought her back down to earth where she was confronted by her guilt over what she had done. Gary Cooper would recall falling for her during For Whom the Bell Tolls, but after filming ended, he "couldn't get her to return [his] calls."

At the end of the day, it was Ingrid's art that meant the most to her. Her work was the most honest thing she could give to the world or herself. However, when she traveled to Europe to begin shooting Stromboli with hot (married) Italian director Roberto Rossellini, there was no confusion about her feelings. She fell in love with the brilliant man who was changing the face of foreign cinema. Hitchcock was a bit burned when his top actress kicked him over for another director, but his anger was just the tip of the iceberg. When Ingrid got pregnant, she opted to keep her child, divorce her cold husband, and marry her dream man. Son Robertino "Robin" Rossellini was born, (joining his half sister Pia), and chaos ensued. The world's reaction was more than harsh; it was devastating. Ingrid was literally shamed out of Hollywood-- simply for being honest-- and virtually blacklisted from American work. Yet, as time heals all wounds, six years would repair the damage. She would return with a career comeback in her Oscar-winning performance as Anastasia. Once again, Hollywood was groveling at her feet. The sturdy Swede had made her point. Her marriage to Rossellini didn't last, nor did her final marriage to Lars Schmidt, but she still triumphed personally and professionally: she had a combined brood of 4 beautiful children from her first two unions-- including her final twin daughters, Isabella and Isotta-- and a career that any actress would envy.

Ingrid with her four grown tots: Isabella, Robin, Isotta, and Pia, before one

of her stage performances.

It is a dangerous thing and a heavy burden to play God, which we do when we act as our own creators and make new life. It is a sacrifice to which some of us cannot commit for various reasons. No road is easy. For those that travel the path of parenthood, the struggles are difficult, stressful, but (one hopes) ultimately rewarding. For those who do not, the grim reality of their dismissal of nature's call and the resultant guilt is often punishment enough-- no stone throwing necessary. As ever, in such dark and multi-faceted subject matter, our stars act as our martyrs, just as they do on the big screen-- magnifying the life experience and providing the many, varied shades and examples of survival we all make, have made, and will make in our collective history. No one's story is the same, but we are all tragicomics. My heart goes out to the women who had to endure the harsh scrutiny, strict control, and ridicule that they suffered under the mighty Hollywood microscope. Ladies, let it be known, in your incredible work, you were mothers to us all.

MENTAL MONTAGE: Inspiration

"Subtext"and "Clift" are pretty much synonymous. In The Misfits, Monty drew on his own

ever-complicated relationship with his mother to add layer to an early phone 

conversation his character had. He nailed it in one take.

Where do good characters come from? One could say that the genius lies in the writing, but that's only half the battle. A good idea is just a ghost of intention if there is never an actor to grab a hold of it and flesh it out. Every performer has his own way of getting to a character, whether it be through Method, Meisner, or raw instinct, but some of the pieces of life experience that inspire a characterization and bring it more fully to life are just as fascinating as the movies themselves. Actors are perpetual creatures of human study. Al Pacino made a brilliant documentary recording his own quest to find and create one of the most complicated characters in literary history, Richard III, in Looking for Richard. One of my own acting teachers, we'll call him JHR, entertained the class with an episode that he experienced with Marlon Brando. At a restaurant, he happened to see (a much older and fatter) Marlon eating at a table across the way. He then saw Marlon observe another diner, who was struggling with his meal due to a neck brace, which clearly handicapped his movements. Marlon stopped, pulled back, assumed the same posture, and tried to eat in the same crippled fashion. I guess an actor acts, always. The following is a series of more descriptive circumstances that stellar performers used to shape their roles into realities. Here are a few answers to the question: How did he come up with that?!

 Montgomery Clift had definite standards when it came to acting. His chosen profession was more than a job, it was a mission.  If anything worth doing is worth doing right, than to Monty anything worth doing was worth hitting out of the park. Thus, he took his characterizations very seriously. In addition to getting in touch with the inner mechanisms of the man he wanted to portray, he too would try to establish him physically. For example, when preparing for the role of Father Logan in I Confess (left), he studied the way that priests walk, noting that they seemed to push their long robes forward with their hands as they moved. His attention to detail and sense of conviction would drive certain directors and producers nuts, but no one could argue with his results. As always, the battle between money and artistry is tough-going, especially in the factory mentality of Hollywood. As Monty himself would say, "I'm not an actor out there, I'm called a 'hot property.' And property is only good if it makes money-- a property is lousy if it loses money at the box office."

Nonetheless, the mighty arm of studio mandates never broke Monty's artistic sensibilities. Throughout his career, he looked for motivations for his characters in unusual places, sometimes keeping observations in his pocket for years before he was able to put them to use. One example of this occurred in 1949, after Monty had just started to strike a chord with American audiences. Since he was hanging around friend and mentor Thornton Wilder a great deal, he steeped himself in brainy literature. Always an avid reader, he went on a rampage, consuming the entire works of Franz Kafka (right), with whom he had become absolutely fascinated. (His absorption in The Metamorphosis seems particularly uncanny, considering the parallel that he would later have with character "Gregor Samsa's" repulsive transformation). While on this literary journey, Monty became transfixed by a photograph of the author, which was taken in Prague the very year of his death. Something in the gaunt, bat-like face with haunted eyes seemed to move and disturb him, and the image certainly effected him enough that he felt compelled to rip it out of the book and carry it with him over the next nearly 10 years. He reportedly looked at it every day. 

Fast forward to his casting in The Young Lions after his own post-crash "metamorphosis." He was to bring to life the character of "Noah Ackerman," a Jewish soldier. In uncovering the nature of this man, he knew immediately how he wanted to flesh him out. In addition to losing 20 pounds and wearing purposely baggy clothing, he too made adjustments to his face to make himself look like Kafka in the infamous photo (left). Something about the author's tragedy and Noah's defiance against his own victimization made sense to him. He recalled his performance as his favorite role and the one of which he was the most proud.

Carroll Baker was one of many members of the Method crew that seemed to follow in the wake of Monty's naturally intuitive brand of acting. (Though he had never been a Method man himself, many of Strasberg's students would find themselves trying to create what Monty seemed to have invented). Carroll proved from the minute she arrived in New York that she was ready to go the distance in her acting. This soon got her noticed by Hollywood, who was interested in both her talent and beauty. Fortunately, she also had a brain. The wheels were definitely already spinning with regard to character "Baby Doll Meighan" by they time she began filming Baby Doll, yet there were certain behavioral elements she needed to round off. She found the perfect subject to study when she landed on location in Benoit, MS. No sooner had she set foot on Southern soil than she came into contact with a local woman named Ellie May. The typical Southern Belle, Ellie May was feminine, colorfully dressed, and also possessed a remarkable speech pattern that reflected both her Mississippi heritage and a blend of baby talk. Jackpot! For the remainder of her visit, Carroll kept Ellie May in close company and under even closer scrutiny. The way she was both delicate and assertive, coy yet calculating, gave Carroll all that she needed to use for her character (see right). The mimicry worked, and the role changed her life.

Carroll had another moment of divine inspiration when director Elia Kazan, known as "Gadge," was looking for a little extra oomph for one particular scene. Early in the film, Baby Doll sits and waits for her sexually frustrated older husband, "Archie," in their car. When he finishes his business and comes to meet her, the watching locals were supposed to start heckling him. Elia didn't believe that the scene worked without some sort of context, so he asked both Carroll and co-star Karl Malden for ideas. A light bulb when off: Carroll told Elia that her father had been a traveling salesman and that whenever she had to wait for him in the car somewhere, if she had been a good girl, he would bring her an ice cream cone. Elia loved it! The extra action of having Archie approach his young, ambivalent, untouched bride with a dripping vanilla cone provided a sexual undertone, an embodiment of the characters' power struggle, and also the blatant age difference. It totally worked. Thus, Archie stands in the hot sun sweating, while the object of his desire sits quietly lapping it up (left). Perfection.

James Cagney had a lot of personal material to draw on when he needed to add gravity to his performances. An easy touchstone for him was always his father. James Frances Cagney had been a lovable, tender man with an unfortunate penchant for alcohol. Occasionally, he would go into "fits," wherein he would endure severe headaches that left him moaning and howling uncontrollably. The only one who could calm him down was his wife, Jim's mother, Carrie. Meanwhile, the children in the family hid their eyes and covered their ears, unintentionally showing their fear of the man they loved so much. Jim  never forgot the sound... After several years in Hollywood as a leading man, he would tap into this particularly painful vein in order to deliver one of the most gut-wrenching moments of his career. In White Heat, his hard as nails gangster has but one soft spot-- for his mother, who ironically, is the only person who can calm him when he gets one of his "headaches." When later imprisoned, he is eating in the mess hall when he hears the news that his beloved mama is dead. His character, "Cody Jarrett," completely loses control of his senses, lets out an ear-splitting series of animal noises, and flails around madly about his fellow inmates (right). The extras in the scene had not been told what to expect, so when their star started braying desperately, many of them thought James Cagney had actually lost his mind! The stunned look of shock on their faces says it all. The noise Jim created was the same awful sound that he had heard growing up. He only watched the scene once, then refused to ever watch it again. It was far too painful. Yet, to him, it was worth it to cut himself open for the role.

Jim used his pops for a much more light-hearted gag in an earlier film he made, Taxi (left, with Loretta Young). When he used to horse around with his father as a kid, the senior fellow would sometimes wrap his arm around his son's neck in mock anger and lightly pepper his chin with fake punches, saying all the while, "Why I oughta..."  Thus, in a scene in Taxi when Jim is jealously teasing a paramour, he wraps his arm around her neck, taps her chin and spouts: "If I thought that..." The action was a way of paying homage to his old man. When his mother, Carrie, saw this moment in on the big screen, she started weeping right in the middle of the theater. It meant a lot to her that Jim would honor one of his warmest memories of his father.

Luise Rainer was one of a kind. A delicate, feminine creature who often portrayed women of great romance and modesty, she was also a thinker who refused to ever get caught up in the Hollywood game. She was never in it for the stardom, she was in it for the story, and was honored that she was one of the few people in the world who had the great privilege of bringing interesting women to life. Nonetheless, there was great controversy surrounding her casting as "O-Lan" in The Good Earth (right), if only because she had been chosen over Anna May Wong in the role of the Chinese heroine. Luise understood the resentment, but studio politics being what they were, she graciously accepted the role and vowed to make good in it. She refused elaborate make-up, which she believed would caricature the race, and determined to work from "the inside out" in building O-Lan authentically. Through the subtle, quiet movement she observed in the female Chinese community, she was able to establish the modest touch she was looking for. Yet, she wasn't quite satisfied. She had the structure of O-Lan, but in her mind, she hadn't "found her" yet. Ah, serendipity: one day on the set, Luise was dressed in character and surrounded by genuine Chinese extras. She accidentally dropped her pocket book, and when she bent to pick it up, she knocked heads with another women, who kindly handed her wallet back to her. Their eyes locked. Suddenly, the extra realized that she was standing next to the star of the film! Her eyes went wide and she blushed. She seemed to pull back inside herself a bit in humility. "There she is," Luise thought. "That's O-Lan!" She used this woman and her honest, demure reaction as a model for her characterization... and won an Academy Award for her performance, (for the second year in a row, btw)!

Lon Chaney was, of course, the consummate character researcher as the consummate character man. As he occasionally found himself in Chinese roles, he-- like Luise-- would go to Chinatown to observe the people and study their mannerisms. His ultimate test if he had mastered his movements and make-up, was to ride the electric car to Chinatown and back, as authentic Chinamen got on and off around him. During the ride, if no one noticed that he was some actor in make-up, he knew that he had it (see him in Mr. Wu, left). He also liked to visit the courts and watch the different criminals, convicts, and cretins come in for their verdicts. He always found a lot of material there for his own villains. His attention to detail can be seen in all of his films, and his work has gone on to inspire many other actors. In fact, he was directly used by one actor in particular during the filming of Full Metal Jacket. Vincent D'Onofrio is an accredited character actor of his own generation, as is evident in his lengthy, varied filmography. His role as "Private Leonard Lawrence" in Full Metal Jacket was at once annoying, child-like, and demented. An important scene comes when he reacts to the abuse that the fellow soldiers are inflicting upon him, and (spoiler alert) he subsequently loses his mind and shoots off his own head. The day before they were to shoot, Stanley Kubrick was conferring with the young actor about this heavy scene. "Make it big," he said. "Lon Chaney big!" Vincent did. His maniacal control and sinister presence sends chills down the spine. He totally delivers in this shocking moment by going over-the-top mad! It works. Lon Chaney clearly isn't the only creeper, but because he was the first, his followers are much better prepared.

I've seen that face before... (Vincent D'Onofrio goes full-on Chaney
 in Full Metal Jacket).

*My apologies to those of you who may have caught a glimpse of an early draft of this article. I accidentally pressed "publish" instead of "save." :-/ Hey, I'm allowed one blonde moment a day!