THE REEL REALS: Donna Reed

Donna Reed

The ultimate cinematic, Christmastime heroine remains a dead heat competition between Maureen O'Hara and Donna Reed. One's choice of femme phenom depends on taste: do you prefer the hard nosed, no-nonsense career woman of A MIRACLE ON 34TH STREET whose heart is eventually melted or do you go for the intelligent and passionate girl-next-door of IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE who is the source of such heart melting prowess??? In all honesty, I'm an O'Hara girl, but today I pay tribute to Ms. Reed who is just as deserving of admiration and annual yuletide respect.

Donna was a wo-man. (Yeah, I said it). Though beautifully blessed when it came to her looks, she was far from a pin-up, glamour girl. What she offered was an astute candor and an awareness of herself that created in her characters a solid, feminine force. She relayed deep emotion, and she subtly insinuated her vulnerabilities, but she was too shrewd and self-assured to portray herself with anything less than 100% command. More earthy than Bergman and less savage than Gardner, she came off like a regular, every day human who just happened to land in a Hollywood film and accidentally inject it with a little authenticity. 

Her rationality, romantic cunning, and depth of feeling opposite James Stewart's volcanic rebuffs and ultimate disintegration in Wonderful Life leveled the playing field between them and rendered what was essentially a contemporary but still very fantastical Christmas Carol concept into a raw and sympathetic opus to family and love. She gave the film the sturdy roots from which could grow the honesty of devastating personal saga while epitomizing the beauty that still somehow thrives through human rubbish and heartbreak. Any other actress would have been too saccharine, too soft, or too immature to balance George Bailey's often raving lunacy and selfishness and call him back home to herself. Donna was home. She was the 'wonderful' of Bailey's life story that made the statement IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE true.

Of course, though IAWL remains her most lasting film, Donna's career was much more than 1 drop in the Holiday Bucket-- though this single offering continues to resonate. An Academy Award winner for her portrayal of the cynical and sapient prostitute in FROM HERE TO ETERNITY and a Golden Globe winner for her work on THE DONNA REED SHOW, she consistently utilized and reinvented her strongest qualities in each project to convey the varying shades of nuance of each performance. While the nuclear family role model, she was actually a political activist and anti-nuclear, anti-war protester. However, instead of ruffling feathers, the Iowan farm girl's intuition and openhearted generosity made her a comfort and an inspiration to women across the country-- and even the world. It was her strength that was appealing, but it was her indication of submerged frailty that earned loyalty. She was a powerful example of what one could independently have, do and be as she progressed through both her life and career with savvy, elegance, and absolute self-respect. 

Starting her career with the wholesome, bright, girl-next-door badge emblazoned across her breast, she was able to transcend stereotype and bring more intrigue to the table, which is why her work in the Dr. Gillespie films or THE COURTSHIP OF ANDY HARDY were easily left behind for more head-turning, mature roles in THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY and THEY WERE EXPENDABLE. Holding her own against the most intimidating and larger than life actors of her day-- John Wayne, George Sanders-- she struck gold when cast in the aforementioned iconic Xmas classic, though it took her years to realize it-- it was a flop at the time. She continued working consistently in television and film for the remainder of her life until succumbing to pancreatic cancer at the age of 64, but she left behind a remarkable legacy of class and distinction but, most importantly, heart, which is why we continue to love her and be 'melted' by her every holiday season.

THE REEL REALS: Barry Fitzgerald

Barry Fitzgerald with his Oscar

Barry Fitzgerald is "the bomb." Outshining even the extremely hot chemistry between Duke Wayne and Maureen O'Hara in his drunken, comedic turn as the town matchmaker in "The Quiet Man," Barry also shared Oscar glory with Bing Crosby in the surprise success "Going My Way." An honest Dubliner, born and raised, part of Barry's appeal was his thick, Irish accent and his likeable, unpredictable actions and reactions. Whether playing the increasingly confused and slightly mad groundskeeper in "Bringing Up Baby" or making a cameo appearance in "Duffy's Tavern," there was no telling what the lovable leprechaun would say or do next. All one could do was sit, wait, and most likely, laugh.

Getting a late start in the acting profession, Barry wouldn't grace the screen until he was nearly forty. Both he and, later, his younger, nationalist brother Arthur Shields would journey to America and find success working with director John Ford, who immediately took a liking to the sprightly Barry in particular. From a civil servant to an unexpected film star, Barry would enjoy over thirty years performing on the silver screen before passing away in his early seventies back in Dublin. In addition to his lovable Irish brogue, Barry had an irreplaceable, unmatched persona that made viewers adore him-- there is no actor that could have outperformed or improved upon his characterizations in any of his given film. This, one could say, is the mark of the finest of actors.

STAR OF THE MONTH: John Wayne

The Duke

John Wayne. The name alone conjures countless representations. John Wayne is the eternal definition of the masculine identity. John Wayne is the absolute embodiment of the perfect cowboy. John Wayne is the unequaled, unparalleled standard of the movie star-- and he is all these things 32 years after his death. How did a shy, insecure, average-American boy become one of the most famous people who ever lived? Because he was just as equally composed of determination, integrity, and-- of course-- "true grit." The Western hero has nearly become a mockery in modern cinema-- lampooned, caricatured, and misconstrued. He is a great fiction that we no longer comprehend, at least not popularly. Explain then why in the latest poll, which tallied young America's favorite movie star, John Wayne is still listed as #1? Because, young, old, male, female, black, white, liberal, conservative, John still represents the heart of this great country, and our hearts are still with him.

Marion Mitchell Morrison as a young

football player.

Such limitless greatness was not apparent in Marion Robert Morrison's early years in Winterset, IA. Born to a charismatic, loving father, Clyde-- who worked primarily as a pharmacist-- and a harsh, detached mother-- who was never satisfied with either her eldest son or her husband-- Marion had few thoughts of grandeur in his youth. A repeating mantra in his head was that he simply wasn't good enough, at least not where mother Molly was concerned. In fact, Molly showed her displeasure by depriving Marion of his middle name, her father's, and giving it to her second born-- Robert Emmett Morrison. Marion became Marion Mitchell instead-- one of many events in his childhood that left him feeling ashamed and outcast. His one salvation was Clyde, who adored his son and taught him to play football, live right, work hard, and above all, be honest. These early life lessons would stick with Marion until the end. In life, he would trust and forge great friendships with men, and always remain wary of women, whom he could never fathom. Kind, gentlemanly, and respectful, he would fall in love rarely, put women on a pedestal, and leave them there, never able to completely surrender his heart. From the beginning, he was a "man's man." Though endowed with a natural tenderness and empathy, the home was not where he would find solace. He found his peace through work, beginning even in childhood where he became a very focused, model student. Garnering straight "A"s, he too accrued a great number of friends, surprising his mother by becoming popular with fellow students and-- especially after moving to Glendale, CA-- drooled after by co-eds who were lining up for a date with the tall, handsome teen. By this time, he was known as "Duke," a pet name derived literally from his pet Airedale. Locals had called the dog "Big Duke" and Marion "Little Duke." (One wonders if this influenced the Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade writers. You know what I mean)? Because he found his given name "girly" and was equally tired of being picked on, Marion welcomed the change. For the rest of his life, he insisted that friends call him by his nickname.

John's good looks helped him land the lead in The Big Trail, 

but ironically he would not achieve fame until he had 

weathered a bit into the "man's man" ideal.

After earning a scholarship to play football at USC and enduring the break-up of his parents' marriage, Duke began studying for a law degree. Always a hard worker, he masterfully balanced his studies, football, social life, and several jobs to earn his keep. Disaster struck when he injured his shoulder while showing off for the girls at the beach in a body-surfing stunt gone wrong, which cost him his scholarship. Unable to afford the school that had no more use for him, he dropped out and went to work at Fox Studios where he had already been putting in some time as a prop boy and sometimes extra during the summer. Fate wanted Duke in the movies. After witnessing some of his childhood idols like Harry Carey and Tom Mix in action, Duke would get his own shot at fame. He would meet director John Ford, one of the most important people in his life, in 1926. Ford noticed the kid at work, heard he was a football player, and decided to play a prank on him. He asked Duke to get into position, then kicked him over. Though sweet-natured, Duke also had a temper and a willingness to fight. He challenged Ford to try his trick again, only this time, Duke tackled him. A lifetime friendship was born. Duke would work with Ford, continuing work as a prop boy where he learned to properly dress a set and give it as much character as the actors in it. He occasionally would stand in as a stunt performer, and sometimes Ford would even assign him small roles. However, another influential figure would give Duke his first break. Raoul Walsh would see the 6'4" youth unloading a truck and joking around when he decided that the Duke had the right combination of brawn and charm to be his leading man in The Big Trail. When offered a screen test, Duke replied with a "Sure, why not?" At the premiere, he invited both parents, but Molly refused to come unless Duke dis-invited his father. He refused, and Clyde and his proud step-mother attended what Duke hoped would be a life-changing moment. The role brought him a great deal of critical acclaim but failed to boost him into the mainstream. Despite his hopes, he would languish in B-movies for another 9 years. Yet, he had discovered himself as an actor, and he would throw the same amount of gusto into learning that craft as he had into everything else.

John was frequently miscast in his early cinematic attempts, 

including this bit part opposite Barbara Stanwyck 

in Baby Face.

The greatest tragedy of The Big Trail was losing his relationship with John Ford, who was both mentor and slave-driver. A sado-masochistic relationship, Ford supplied Duke with another father figure but was also harsh and critical like Duke's mother. Unlike Molly, however, Ford could be pleased, which is perhaps why Duke worked so hard to impress him. Yet, when Duke took on The Big Trail, Ford gave him the cold shoulder, perhaps feeling betrayed that his protege had wandered off to another director or perhaps just jealous of the younger man's success. The fracture in their relationship had its benefits, for Duke got one Hell of an education making B-Westerns for poverty row studios like Republic Pictures. Fast-paced, poorly-written cliffhangers and serials, John became a low-level star to the thousands of young boys and more rural clientele who enjoyed the simple, uncomplicated nature of low-budget flicks like Riders of Destiny and Rainbow Valley. Duke slowly lost his uncertainties and insecurities, learned how to think fast and keep up. He too started building a character: one with which he would be identified the rest of his life. The graceful beauty of his youthful good looks slowly began to harden into the more mature, macho adult that would make him a "real man" and not just a heartthrob, as he had originally been publicized. He copied the stilted and poignant line delivery of his hero Harry Carey-- creating that signature drawl with meaningful pauses-- friend Paul Fix would help him develop his rolling walk, and Yakima Canutt helped him perfect his stunt work and fights scenes. His cowboy was not clean and polished, nor flashy and cocky. He was a real guy. Comfortable on a horse and handy with a gun, the B-Westerns molded Duke, now known as John Wayne, into an actor but even moreso into the most important cowboy in cinematic history. John Ford was ready to forgive.

John finds stardom and his signature persona in Stagecoach, 

one of the greatest Westerns ever made.

Stagecoach was one of the many movies that made 1939 the biggest year of Hollywood cinema. It too would mark a turning point in Duke's life. Having already been in Tinsel Town for over a decade, he had worked long and hard for the great opportunity Ford now laid at his feet. In Stagecoach, his turn as the Ringo Kid would forever seal him into the American mind as our favorite cowboy. With a mixture of diligence and innocence, raw power and grace, he became a sensation. This film kicked a door open that would never again be slammed shut in his face. John went on to star in film after film, cementing his reputation and crafting his John Wayne character, which would harden over the years. As he aged as a man, his characters aged with him. Red River, The Searchers, Rio Bravo, She Wore a Yellow Ribbon-- they all came to define the masculine image. Embodied in Duke were the sacrifices man made for his country and countrymen. Justice, righteousness, and the risks and stakes in upholding these virtues were displayed in his persona. When America went to war, so too did Duke, who rotated between the saddle and the army when ideals of patriotism were the most needed. Critics started taking notice of his acting as he continued to prove himself through They Were Expendable, In Harm's Way, and The Sands of Iwo Jima, the latter of which earned him his first Academy Award nomination and also his place in cemented history at Grauman's Chinese Theatre. He represented to men the man they wanted to be and to women the man who would protect them, whose seemingly impenetrable heart made him all the more alluring. Though romance was never the most important thing on the agenda in his films, he proved to have great chemistry with Marlene Dietrich, Gail Russell, and most importantly Maureen O'Hara, who matched him step for step in strength, courage, and gumption.

John Ford had trouble getting financing for the little Irish film

The Quiet Man, but the electric chemistry of Duke and Maureen 

and the comedy of Barry Fitzgerald warmed America's heart. 

Duke worked hard to protect his screen image and to see that his ideals and sense of integrity were passed on in all of his roles. When he thought of testing the waters and entertaining more variety, Ollie Carey reminded him of the importance his solid presence dictated to audiences, and how much they relied on him-- like the rock of Gibraltar-- to remain their strong and steady savior. He remained faithful to this ideal, but it came at a price. He suffered through three failed marriages, though the last did not end in divorce but separation. He tried all kinds of women, wedding first the Virgin (Josephine Saenz), then the Whore (Chata Baur), and finally the Lady (Pilar Pallete), all of whom were "exotic," Spanish women who adhered to old-fashioned principals of a patriarchal family life. But because Duke grew up fearing the domestic lifestyle, he was never able to completely give himself over to any of the women that loved him. He regretted his broken family and the effect it had on what would grow into his brood of 7 children. In retrospect, he would wish that he had stayed with Josie-- who had proved to be the perfect mother and wife-- and was always guilty that he had unintentionally crafted the same unsavory home life for his children that he had had for himself. Though he always remained a good father, constantly bringing his children to set, and even working onscreen with son Patrick and producing with son Michael, he couldn't deny that his life was his work, and he found more solace with his team of men, "The Young Men's Purity and Total Abstinence and Snooker Pool Association" (of which John Ford, Ward Bond, Henry Fonda, Johnny Weissmuller, and Robert Preston were a few of the drunken members) than he ever did at home. He was too itchy, too bored, too anxious. Life was outdoors, on a film set, or on his yacht: the Wild Goose. He knew well how to live. Loving, on the other hand-- as tender and kind a friend as he was to so many, both male and female-- was a craft too deep for him to fathom personally.

Always more cozy with the fellas: John, Dean Martin, Ricky Nelson 

and Howard Hawks on the set of Rio Bravo, another triumph.

And he was adored, even when his politics began to chafe the majority. A Republican in Hollywood is never popular, particularly in the Vietnam years when Duke was currently at odds with the young, mainstream liberal movement that made a fossil out of his ideals. But while his convictions were strong, his agenda was not selfish. He made decisions based not on what was right or left, but what he felt to be right or wrong. An educated man who had spent a majority of his youth with his life buried in books and studies, his judgments-- whether one agreed or disagreed-- were based on sound reason, and he did from time to time ruffle the feathers of his own "party." For example, he tried to lighten up on the HUAC witch trial refugees who were looking for work, while others were less willing to forgive. Though Duke took a firm anti-communist stance, he also believed in forgiveness, and above all he didn't want to rob a man of his desire to work. His opinions were declared loud and clear, but what is less remarked on was his ability to listen. He did not judge a man for having an opposing view, and preferred it to someone who was by nature a "yes man." While his name was constantly dragged through the mud by people with more liberal sentiments, he never returned the favor. Jane Fonda publicly ridiculed him, but-- as he was friends with her father-- he only kidded her about it in public. Nancy Reagan would remember him as one of the gentlest men who ever lived, which is no surprise; but he too had the great respect of Katharine Hepburn-- as much a Democrat as he was a Republican. Kirk Douglas too enjoyed his company despite their vastly different outlooks, and he earned Barbara Walters's undying respect when he paid her a kindness early in her career. Despite any negative publicity he garnered for his views, still nothing could sully his reputation. People still loved him and looked up to him, from Bertolt Brecht to Emperor Hirohito.

Duke's diligence pays off at the 1970 Academy Awards, 

with Barbara Streisand.

Duke's popularity may have waned slightly from time to time, but it was always present. This is because he represented something beyond politics that every American could relate to, which was America itself. A man who loved his country and paid homage to the men willing to fight for its freedoms, he never let social agenda or controversy cloud this truth: that he lived in the greatest country in the world. When all the world had gone mad, when everything seemed to be going to Hell, Duke and his films could always be depended on to light the way to the simplest and purest of lessons in eras of even the greatest confusion. All a man needed was bravery, loyalty, and decency. While others were lost in the gray or seeing red, Duke always painted things in black and white. There is a hero; there is a villain. There is a right; there is a wrong. You do what is just, not what comes easiest. You take the path that leads to honor, not the one that is less rocky. His understated acting, where everything was relayed through his eyes, is often submerged beneath the caricature history has made of him. It would take him years, over forty in the business, to finally earn his Academy Award for Best Male Performance for his portrayal of Rooster Cogburn in True Grit, and this he only earned by creating a character with great humor and mocking. But those who worked with him knew his genius long before, including Monty Clift who continually tried and failed to upstage him, never fully comprehending why he couldn't overshadow the Duke. Because... no one could. Burt Reynolds once said that John Wayne was "the only movie star [he'd] ever met that was not only exactly what [he] thought [he'd] be, but more." He remains our pillar of strength, our moral compass, our father, our leader, our friend. The last great American model, it seems, shall never crumble. Nor should it, even if it is to remind us of our great blessings. Left, Right, or Wrong, patriotism and love of country have no side. But they do share a face: a rugged, battle-worn one with thin blue eyes that can either freeze an enemy or warm a heart. God Bless America, and God Bless Hollywood for giving us John Wayne!

MENTAL MONTAGE: Blondes Have More Fun

Ultimate Blonde Comedienne Carol Lombard takes 

a mischievous peek in Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

Grace Kelly (left) is most often remembered as being refined, classy, and chic. But so too did this lady have a naughty sense of humor. When Alfred Hitchcock initially tried to get her goat with his dirty jokes, Grace quipped back something to the effect of: "I heard worse things than that when I was in convent school." When she got close to people, she really let her guard down and showed her sweet and fun-loving side. Truth be told, she loved a good prank, and she played with the best of them!

The most infamous joker she went mono e mono with was surprisingly Alec Guinness, an English actor who was also known for his regal aura. The two chummed up on the set of The Swan (right) and became good friends. When Grace learned that Alec was receiving very "forward" fan letters from a girl named Alice, she saw to it that he was continuously paged by an "Alice" at his hotel. Alec's face probably filled with fear until he saw the look on Grace's. The two also engaged in a a decades long battle of "Where's the Tomahawk?" The duel started thus: Alec was given a little tomahawk by a friend, and as a gag, he tipped the hotel concierge to slip it into Grace's bed. Grace's initial surprise led to a continuous game. The two soon began swapping the weapon back and forth. Grace would hear that Alec was in town, and she would pay the bellboy at his hotel to place the tomahawk in his bed; Alec would learn that Grace was passing through his neck of the woods, and he would have a mutual friend hide it somewhere in hers. Sometimes, years would pass before the tomahawk would strike again, but it always did. Every once in awhile one of them was greeted with the surprisingly humorous prop, and had a good laugh over it. Where it ended up, or who was the last to receive it is unknown, but it was a good way for two friends to to send a little token of remembrance, despite the years that passed between them.

Grace also tried to help out ol' friend Jackie-O back when she was Jacqueline Kennedy, (see two classy ladies left). It seems that John was a big fan of Grace's, which is no surprise knowing his penchant for blondes. When he underwent a dangerous lumbar fusion surgery in 1954, Grace wrote Jackie and asked if she might pay a visit at the hospital. Jackie thought it was just the thing to brighten the recuperating politician's spirits, but she added a twist. The scheme was to have Grace enter John's hospital room dressed as a nurse! Grace arrived completely in character and performed to a T. Perhaps a little too well, actually. In addition to the fact that John was heavily sedated, Grace was a bit too convincing in her costume. He didn't know that the kind nurse helping him was a famed movie star! Grace left. When John became a little more clearheaded, Jackie told him of the shenanigan, and he kicked himself for missing the experience of a lifetime!

Speaking of John and his blondes... Marilyn Monroe also had a funny bone, and she too wanted to pull a fast one on her husband, Joe DiMaggio  (newlywedded, right). Unfortunately, like the above gag, it didn't pan out. This time, she asked for Maureen O'Hara's help. It turns out that Joe had a school-boy crush on the flame haired vixen, so to tease him, Marilyn asked Maureen if she would take part in his birthday party. The idea was that Maureen would hide in a large box, which Marilyn would then give to Joe as a present with the following stipulation: "Now Joe, after I give this, I don't ever want to hear about Maureen O'Hara again." Maureen would then pop out of the gift, leaving Joe quite stunned. Maureen resisted the idea, but eventually the persuasive Marilyn coaxed her into it. For some reason-- scheduling perhaps-- they never went through with it. Too bad for Joe.

Maureen O'Hara: proving red-heads 

could also get a laugh.

Another blonde who liked to have a little fun was Hot Toddy, Thelma Todd (left). When she was first signed at Paramount at the young age of 19, she was put in the studio acting class with other young hopefuls, such as Buddy Rogers. Now, between lessons on speech and performance, these youngsters got a little stir crazy. Here they were, hoping to become famous movie stars, and instead it was like being in boarding school. In the midst of the talkie revolution, studio execs really wanted to make sure that their new gents and ingenues could move cinema into the next generation, and classes on diction and pronunciation were becoming tiring. Thus, to break out of the old, starched routines, the kids decided to have some laughs. Rumor has it that Toddy was always the leader when it came to their pranks.

One example involved the illustrious legend of the silent screen, Gloria Swanson, then one of the biggest movie stars in the world, and the reigning Queen of Paramount's Astoria studios. One night, Thel' and the gang decided to toy with the famed vixen. They went to the set of her latest film, Stage Struck, (in which she was playing a waitress), and tampered with the props, which they moved around and glued down-- plates, trays, chairs, doors, everything! The next day, when Gloria arrived to the set, she started going through the scene only to realize that she couldn't move anything. Doors refused to open, silverware was stuck on the counter... From the rafters, she thought she could hear the faint sound of chuckling. Instead of getting riled, the Grande Dame calmly pulled director Allan Dwan aside into a private convo, then left the set. No more work could be done until the situation was corrected anyway.

Gloria S: Don't mess with this!

Thelma was right proud of this silly victory... until Gloria got her revenge. The next day, Thelma and her class of jokesters were called to the very same set and asked to perform scenes from the script... while Gloria critiqued! Suddenly, the laughs turned to gulps. Thelma herself was given Gloria's role. Gloria simply sat smirking-- pen and paper at the ready to give her review. Revenge was sweet. In the end, no one held any grudges. It was all in fun. In fact, Gloria probably saw in Thelma a younger version of herself. Earlier, when the gushing young actress first met her idol and told her she hoped to work with her one day, Gloria cautiously advised, "Just don't let them get to you dear. Keep them at a distance and let them think you've got steal claws and sharp fangs." If only Thel' had taken the advice...

But back to the funny business. Errol Flynn (right) was a legendary prankster. (Granted his hair was light brown, but for the sake of this article we'll say that it was dirty blonde). The number of gags he pulled on his pals is endless. One unwitting recipient of his boyish hi-jinks was Anthony Quinn. The two were scheduled to do a radio show for the Red Cross. Before Tony arrived, Errol spoke to the fellas in charge of the broadcast and asked them to play along with his scheme: pretending to be on the air when in fact the show hadn't begun. When the fake show commenced, the boys began reading through the script when Errol suddenly let out a string of obscenities that would make a sailor duck and cover. Anthony's mouth dropped open in shock! He was used to Errol's foul mouth, but he was surprised that he cut loose on "live" radio. He was even more surprised when Errol accused him of the foul language, saying, "Why Tony! Why did you say that?" Anthony of course protested, "No, no! It wasn't me!" Errol then repeated the game, each time becoming more filthily verbose and condemning Anthony for his language. "Shame on you, Anthony" he'd say, at which poor Tony would simply shake his head vigorously in protest and look around at the tech boys for help. He prayed that they'd cut the power, but he was stuck! When the show was over, Anthony returned home, sure that his reputation was ruined. The phone started ringing off the hook: Hedda Hopper, Louella Parsons, and his father-in-law Cecil B. DeMille condemned him for his behavior, (all coaxed into the gag by Errol). Finally, Anthony got a final call from his mischievous friend, who simply said, "Gotca, Tony!" He could do nothing but laugh.

Anthony Quinn, laughing it up.

Olivia De Havilland constantly fell prey to Errol's pranks, (they sit together, left).  One day, while on the set of The Charge of the Light Brigade, she went into her dressing room to change. She opened a drawer in her bureau and pulled out a piece of clothing, but was startled when a long, dead snake rolled out. She let out a terrified shriek, dropped the clothes, and ran from the room! Off in the distance, watching with glee, Errol nearly fell over laughing. Olivia never did find out if the snake he'd planted was real. Errol would again pull a fast one on her when she, on a separate occasion, went to her dressing room to change. This time, when she put her feet into her shoes, she found that she was unable to walk away. Errol had nailed them to the floor. Olivia, impassioned and fiery as she was, would become livid at these unprofessional actions, but Errol's boyish good humor and charms would always win her back over. She just couldn't stay mad at the boy.

Carole Lombard: Beauty that's Bananas!

The mother of all blonde pranksters is, of course, the Queen of Screwball comedies, Carole Lombard. It seems that there was no one in Tinsel-Town untouched by her ploys. Her gags were always light-hearted and full of fun, bearing no malicious bent at all. She just loved to make people laugh, and she was enough of a ham to pull off many elaborate tricks with great pomp. Carole is responsible for getting Hitchcock to make his only official, full-fledged comedy, Mr. and Mrs. Smith. He enjoyed her bawdy, racy humor and she his, so having the chance to work together seemed perfect. However, Carole had heard the infamous quote Hitch had uttered that "All actors should be treated like cattle." Thus, when filming began, she had three cows brought to the set, one labeled for each actor: herself, Robert Montgomery, and Gene Raymond. 

Carole and Bob Montgomery on Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

There were no lengths Carole wouldn't go to. When she was invited to a ball that requested all invitees to show up in white, she came in an ambulance; when she hosted a dinner party, she gave it a medical theme and had the meal served in bed pans. When eating breakfast out with married co-star Bing Crosby during We're Not Dressing, she got up to leave and said, "Oh by the way, Bing, I left my nightie in your room last night. Could you please get it back to me. Thanks." She winked and walked away, leaving Bing completely stunned and embarrassed in front of the other diners, who now thought that he and Carole had had a roll in the hay! They had not, but Carole loved to set tongues wagging.

Clark and Carole: Two hams have some fruit.

She loved most to toy with husband, Clark Gable. When they first started dating, Carole learned that Clark loved collecting cars, so she sent him a present: a broken-down and deteriorating model-T covered with hearts. But this time she had met her match. Gable showed up at her front door with the car and tempted her into a joy ride in the comic vehicle. After they were married, Carole toned the jokes down a bit, but her cooky side always remained. The duo hosted occassional, absurd parties, including one in which everyone invited had to pick up an instrument and play while Carole conducted. Because few had any musical ability, the noise was atrocious, but the hilarity ensued. When Carole tragically died in her 1942 plane crash, it was her incredible joy, generosity, and sense of fun that was left behind. Thanks to her films and the tremendous and uproarious stories about her, the comedy continues.

MENTAL MONTAGE: With a mug like that?!

The empire of Hollywood was built to meet public specifications. We've been spoon-fed love stories, crime capers, and whatever plot seems to suit our current appetite.  Keeping us happy can be quite a racket, and the best of the best like Louis B. Mayer and Adolph Zukor have made millions off predicting our next craving. However,  changing attitudes make the American mind difficult to read, and more than one box-office flop has been made when the big-wigs guessed incorrectly. Just as certain films become surprise hits, different stars also unpredictably climb to fame. Certain actors that were never supposed to make it still manage to capture our attention. When Meryl Streep auditioned for 1976's King Kong, she overheard Italian producer Dino de Laurentis say to a colleague: "She's ugly. Why did you bring me this thing?" Little did he know that this brainy lady could speak his language fluently and understood the jab. While Dino predicted that Meryl didn't have the looks to charm the infamous ape, she still managed to become the most beloved and respected American actress of her generation. Here are a few more cases of the Man in Charge being Wrong as Hell.

When Douglas Fairbanks (left in The Three Musketeers)came out to Hollywood in 1915, the established thespian was placed in very prestigious company. Now working with The Triangle Film Corporation, he was in the prime position of being directed by D.W. Griffith, Mack Sennett, and Thomas Ince. However, the first filmmaker, who was working out of his Fine Arts Studio at 4500 Sunset Blvd, was less than thrilled to be dealing with the overly energetic actor. Griffith would say of Doug: "He's got a head like a cantaloupe and can't act." Now, Doug was never referred to as classically handsome, but his manic charisma endeared fans to him nonetheless, and he went on to star in some of the most epic and technically accomplished films of the silent era. Griffith must have changed his mind about Mr. Pep, whom he later teamed up with to form the independent studio United Artists (along with Chaplin and Mary Pickford).

Fred Astaire received a similar response from a studio executive. When trying to pave his way in the film industry, Astaire struggled. Despite his extreme talent, he was slight of frame and did not possess those typical, leading man looks. No one saw his potential. After an early screen test, the jury was in: "Can't act. Slightly bald. Also dances." The money men were looking so hard for stars that they failed to see one in their midst! No matter, Freddy would do all right. What he lacked in stature, he made up for with indescribable, incalculable presence... And moves!

Some of the handsomest men of their day were also originally flooded with negative feedback. Clark Gable (barely recognizable in the left photo) is still referred to as the "King of Hollywood." Even today, women find themselves falling in love with him. During his hey-day, he could and did have nearly any woman that he wanted, but no one would have predicted that when he first started out. An awkward, Ohio boy, he was a bit of a physical anomaly. "Attractive" wasn't the first word used to describe him, especially with his two gold-plated front teeth, which he constantly had to paint white! When making a screen test for Little Caesar, Darryl F. Zanuck was underwhelmed: "His ears are too big. He looks like an ape." With a little help from the miracle workers at MGM, who fixed Clark's teeth, gave him polish, and cut his hair to hide his protruding ears, Clark would have the last laugh.

Even Rudolph Valentino was shunned when he first arrived on the scene, and today he is revered as one of the most powerful sex symbols of all time. Rudy's problem was a little more complex. Due to the bias against different immigrant groups, including the Irish, Chinese, and Italian, Rudy of Castellaneta was not the prototypical American dreamboat. Italians for the most part, with their darker skin and features, were seen as untrustworthy, even insidious. This made it hard for Rudy to break into the pictures, and he was originally cast in villainous, unsavory roles-- thieves, con artists, and charlatans. No one expected much from him, including (once agan) D.W. Griffith, who said: "He's too foreign looking. The girls will never like him." Seems like D.W. should have stuck to making stars of his women; his taste in men couldn't have been more off! It was exactly Rudy's "foreign-ness" that would make him a huge, dangerously sexual superstar.


The women had a lot to put up with in regard to their appearances, of course-- probably much more than men. In addition to being sized up by studio moguls, who were more concerned about going to bed with an ingenue than casting her in a movie, young women in Hollywood were pinched, powdered, bleached, stuffed, and pushed in front of the cameras with scanty wardrobe. Many were completely made over once the star system was in full effect, becoming unrecognizable transformations of their former selves. There were some sassy ladies that resisted it though, including the following:

Jean Arthur was never comfortable with her appearance. When sizing herself up with other leading ladies of the day like Rita Hayworth and Marlene Dietrich, she felt she didn't quite measure up. Perhaps this was one of the reasons she began dyeing her naturally brunette hair blonde. Studio magnate Harry Cohn was inclined to agree with her reservations, declaring: "D'ja see her face? Half of its angel, and the other half horse." Thankfully, the horse-side must have been invisible to the camera, because audiences never saw it, nor did David O. Selznick, who was madly in love with Jean for quite some time. Despite her insecurity, Jean dug in her heels and decided to prove that she was just as much of a woman as the next hot body. Not only did she refuse to go to bed with the notoriously lustful Cohn, but she made him eat his words. Jean's earthy, soft, and natural beauty became part of her eternal appeal.

Another feisty lady that refused to be bullied was the Irish spitfire, Maureen O'Hara. When first landing in Hollywood after having some success in London, there were a lot of grumblings from the higher-ups. It may come as a shock, since Maureen seems like such a classic beauty, but at the time a lot of argument circled around her nose, which was considered too big. It was delicately suggested that she get a nose-job to make her face more palatable to the movie camera, and thus the movie-going public. This time, it was Maureen who would have the last say: "My nose comes with me. I've got a big square face, and I need my big nose. If you don't like it, I'll go back where I came from." With that kind of passion and strength, it is no wonder that her hot-tempered Mary Kate Danaher of The Quiet Man was so believable. The nose stayed with Maureen, and Maureen stayed in Hollywood, thank Heaven!


The prey of the Hollywood racket seems to come in three categories: the Pawns, the Players, and the Rebels. The metamorphosis of Norma Jean Baker to Marilyn Monroe, both body and soul, still raises the question, "What Price Fame?" Marilyn was sadly a pawn. When Norma Shearer was refused the lead in The Divorcee by her own husband, because she wasn't "sexy" enough, she proved her sensuality by having sultry photos taken. Irving Thalberg readily recanted his refusal, and Norma got the role and the Academy Award as a result! Norma was a player, and she loved the game. As for the rebel category: one actress arrived in Hollywood with a gap between her two front teeth, which she refused to fix. It was part of her and who she was. Instead, she wore a cap in her mouth for all of her films and publicity photos. This was her way of showing that while the cameras rolled, she was Ann Sheridan of Hollywood, but on her own time, she was plain ol' Clara Lou from Texas. 

Ann Sheridan... Ain't nothin' wrong with that.

At the end of the day, it didn't matter how gorgeous a person was or how many categories they hit on the list of Movie Star Must-Haves. The "X-factor" wasn't found in a face, it was found buried within-- that uncanny quality that radiated from certain blessed individuals and reached out to their audiences. This is why, while people may have wanted to shun Valentino, Fairbanks, or O'Hara at first, they were forced to bow down in humility when the public showed them their error with box-office receipts. Jean Harlow was more than her luscious curves; Gary Cooper was more than a pretty face. Clara Bow may have risen to fame by winning a magazine beauty contest, but she wouldn't have maintained her status if not for having "It." It is only in believing in the long-shots and the unique individuals that true gold is found. People want to be shown something they've never seen before. I mean, you've seen one Barbie Doll, you've seen them all. But Clark Gables? They don't come around every day...

There's the Clark we know and love!!! Haha.