BITS OF COINCIDENCE: Part XI

Two big Hollywood stars would meet Bette Davis back 

when she was an innocent ingenue... But that 

Bette didn't last for long.

Believe it or not, when Bette Davis first arrived in Hollywood, she was a much more demure figure than history recalls. An insecure, uncomplaining worker, she gave her all for long hours in ridiculous projects in order to make a good impression and hopefully carve out a niche for herself. With her self-esteem at a low, she would need time, experience, and box-office clout before she transformed into the demanding diva we all know and love. Also not popularly known is the fact that Bette remained a virgin until her wedding day-- a fact she proudly proclaimed in later life... before listing the names of her following lovers. Thus, young, unmarried, innocent Bette stood out like a sore thumb in her early days of Hollywood. Unaccustomed to men and unaccustomed to the business, she had a thing or two to learn. One evening, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. thought he would help her out.

On New Years Eve of 1931, Bette was attending a posh Hollywood party being thrown by Lois Wilson. She had hoped to meet some important people, schmooze, etc, but as shy as she was, she spent most of the night in a corner by herself. Doug (left), clearly drunk at this point, noticed the delicate, doe-eyed, cream-puff and swaggered over to her. In her eye-catching gown, with decolletage on display, Doug must have noticed the strange inconsistency between her shut-off demeanor and her come-hither gown. Clearly, this was a girl hoping for attention yet unable to play the Hollywood game-- i.e. use her sexuality to gain control. Thus, reaching into her dress and groping one of her breasts, he offered the following advice: "You should use ice on your breasts the way my wife does." His wife of the time, incidentally, was Joan Crawford. He then stumbled away. Bette was mortified! She rushed home in tears, terrified of this new place called Hollywood and its questionable inhabitants. She quickly wed her first husband, Ham Nelson-- a much more bashful fellow-- in an attempt at normalcy, but Doug's slurred words must have had some effect. Though she never had a penchant for ice, she got the underlying message, and slowly came out of her cocoon and became one Hell of a bulldozing butterfly. One wonders if she ever thanked Doug for the tip? One wonders if (sober) he even remembered giving it???

There are a lot of stories regarding the competitive relationship that Bette shared with Joan Crawford, which came to life fully in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? While Bette always craved Joan's star appeal, Joan always envied Bette's talent. Their conflicting egos would make the shooting of this particular film a tense affair. Coincidentally, it was their only collaboration. But, Bette actually had a more profound rivalry and deep-rooted hate-fest going with Miriam Hopkins (right). Interestingly, these two ladies crossed paths long before Bette's Hollywood days when both were members of George Cukor's theater company in New York in 1928. At the time, Miriam was the leading lady and Bette a mere featured ingenue. The tables turned and the mini-degrees of separation continued when Bette starred in Jezebel, a role that Miriam had brought to life on the stage. Bette then had an affair with Anatole Litvak, Miriam's husband, who directed her in The Sisters. By 1939, when the two ladies starred together in The Old Maid, there was definitely some animosity. Bette wanted to play both of the lead roles herself, as a dual force phenomenon, but failed to convince production. Miriam was cast opposite her instead. Afterward, Bette would recall Miriam as being a great actress but a "total bitch." Of course, Bette conveniently forgot her tryst with Anatole, which was a major factor in Miriam's hatred. On the set, the ladies continuously tried to out-do each other, as they later would in Old Acquaintance. Bette would conspire with the director and keep Miriam out of the loop; Miriam would over-act and position herself so that Bette couldn't steal the frame. When it came time for Bette's character in Old Acquaintance to shake the daylights out of Miriam's character, there was little acting involved. Yet, because the two had such history together, it made their performances opposite each other much more intricate and believable. Some frenemies go waaaaaaaay back.

Two other Hollywood ladies were 'old acquaintances,' but in their case, there was genuine friendship. Back in 1922, Mae Clarke (left) was dancing with a slew of other hopeful young women on the stages of The New Amsterdam Theatre in New York as a part of the illustrious "Ziegfeld's Follies." Her roommate and fellow high-kicker during this time? Barbara Stanwyck. The two were close friends with mutual aspirations toward fame, fortune, and getting the Hell out of a compromising lifestyle. At the time, they were living above a laundry with a third roomie, Walda, trying to eek by. Later they all moved to the Knickerbocker. In Barbara's memory: "I just wanted to survive and eat and have a nice coat." Happily, both Mae and Babs would shimmy their way out of NYC and come to mutual acclaim in Hollywood. Barbara's personal ambition was a little stronger than Mae's, so she would enjoy a lengthier and more memorable career, though Mae's roles as gangsters' molls also give her a safe place in cinematic history. Certainly, when the two pals crossed paths in Hollywood, years after their youthful, scantily-clad beginnings, they must have shared a laugh about the old days and how far they had come. Despite the pain of those years, Barbara always remembered them with fondness, most probably because of the bonds and alliances she shared with so many young women experiencing and trying to survive the same circumstances.

When Veronica Lake came to Hollywood at sixteen, she had mixed emotions. On the one hand, she was in a place where dreams allegedly came true and where some of her screen-heroes came to life. On the other hand, she wasn't sure about all this acting jazz and wasn't too happy about her mother's plans to push her into the spotlight. Her experience in Tinsel Town would go down in history as one of the most tragic examples of the monster celebrity machine, but there were too some good days. One of these days occurred when Ronni and the family-- including her mother, stepfather, and cousin-- first pulled into Los Angeles in 1938. Famished after a long trip, they stopped to eat at a drive-in burger joint. Suddenly, another car pulled beside them. Casually glancing at the driver next-door, Ronni's jaw hit the floor when she saw that it was one of her idols: Anne Shirley (right)!!! She tried to play it cool, but she was overcome with excitement. Ronni watched Anne scarf down a burger with as much attention as she gave to any of her films, then sighed as the starlet drove away. Funnily enough, Ronni would later work with Anne in Sorority House, although Ronni played a measly extra in the film. Ronni never had the courage to tell Anne about their shared lunch, but she did muster the strength to introduce herself and express her gratitude at being able to work with, or at least near, her. Anne was a doll, and wished Ronni much luck in her career. The wish came true when Ronni became the peek-a-boo girl of the movies.

Carroll Baker's career-changing trek to Los Angeles was equally illuminating. When in flight for her first meeting with George Stevens regarding a possible role in Giant-- one she inevitably got-- Carroll was killing time with a little reading. She had just wed Jack Garfein, and in order to become more accustomed to and appreciative of her husband's religious life, she had brought The History of the Jews along for the ride. As her eyes flicked from page to page, she heard a voice: "What's a shiksa like you doing reading The History of the Jews?" Carroll looked up and her eyes bulged. It was Danny Kaye (left)!!! Not only that, but he was flying with famed director Mervyn LeRoy! The two men shared chuckles over her choice in literature and then got to talking. When she mentioned the Giant offer, Mervyn wished her luck, but Danny offered a warning: "Go back!" Concerned for the young girl, after having endured his share of sleaziness and back-stabbing in Hollywood, Danny continued with the fatherly advice, urging Carroll that Tinsel Town wasn't "for everyone." Carroll took the information to heart, but at a young age, she had already encountered more than a few harsh life lessons and felt ready to take the plunge regardless. After some personal hurdles, she certainly may have wondered whether she should have taken Danny's advice, but in the end she conquered both her demons and Hollywood, becoming one of the most memorable performers of the "Method" generation.

Some celebrity meetings are less exciting, if only because at the time, the mutual stars don't know that they're stars: they're children. When Louise Brooks (right) was growing up in Cherryvale, KS, she was already sporting her notorious Buster Brown haircut and exploring the world of dance, but she lacked all other indications of her later splendor-- save maybe her "devilish" personality and an early fascination with films. At the age of four, she was just a young-un, enjoying her youth, playing with neighborhood kids, and getting into the usual bits of trouble. Of course, her childhood was not an easy one, including familial tensions and a tragic experience of sexual abuse that would definitely shape her protective, defiant demeanor. While part of the neighborhood band of kids, she somehow still seemed on her own, separate, and a bit puzzling to her contemporaries-- one of whom was Vivian Vance, the lady later known as Ethel Mertz on "I Love Lucy." At the time, Vivian's last name was still "Jones." She and her sister Venus lived across the street from "Lulu" and they were all close chums, though the sisters often had trouble keeping up with Louise's never-ending energy. They also knew not to come between Louise and her fudge. No one, but NO ONE, ate Louise's fudge. In later years, few would even think to put Vivian and Louise in the same category, but in their youths, Venus would recall that Louise's passion for dancing mixed well with Viv's already well-honed comedy skills. Who knew that the Queen of the Silent Screen was once BFFs with the Princess of the TV set?

Vivian Vance... reminiscing about her Cherryvale and 

"Brooksie" days?

MENTAL MONTAGE: Thanks, but No Thanks.

Give it up, guy. She ain't havin' it. Myrna Loy gives Spencer Tracy the

rebuff in Whipsaw.

In the land of Hollywood, where pretty people reign supreme, the tabloids would have us believe that sexual rendezvous among the stars is a casual, intramural sport. This only serves to feed into our imaginations, perpetuating the myth that Tinsel Town is overflowing with sensual excess. However, despite the fact that celebrities seem to live a privileged, naughtier-than-thou lifestyle, they too occasionally hear the most cutting and unbending word in the English language: "No." Here are a few examples of when a disgruntled Cupid's arrow missed the desired mark, and the target got away.

It's no secret that Spencer Tracy was one of the greatest lady chasers in Hollywood history. Despite a 43 year marriage to Louise Treadwell, he was very easily tempted by the opposite sex. Late in life, he was caught smiling while perusing an old MGM roster photograph. Observers thought he was mulling over fond memories, but then a glint of mischief started twinkling in his eye, and he started to point to various female stars: "Her... and her... and her..." Now, such things are truly no laughing matter. Unfaithfulness is not an admirable quality, but somehow, when it comes to men, people tend to excuse the behavior because, "They can't help themselves." If this is true, I suppose it is necessary that these hypothetically helpless individuals occasionally be smacked back to reality by strong females. Spence happened to come across a few in his day. While filming The Mad Game, Spence had his eye on the beautiful Claire Trevor (left), most remembered for her role as the harlot-with-a-heart-of-gold in Stagecoach. However, when Claire noticed the attention, she appreciated but was having none of it. Finally, Spence laid it all on the line and made his play. Claire respectfully retorted: "I don't go out with married men." Surprisingly, Spence's ego was not bruised. He simply smiled and said, "Stay that way." Since he knew he was a "dirty sinner," I suppose the good Catholic in him was impressed with Claire's superior moral standards. They remained friends and worked together several times more.

Myrna Loy (right) would not get away so easily. Spence and Myrna first worked together on Whipsaw. Spence, not surprisingly, thought Myrna was beautiful but was put off a bit by her distant exterior. He considered her aloof, probably because she was more concerned with doing her work than flirting. Nonetheless, this only made him want her more. She resisted his advances, but his attraction to her became an ongoing joke. When they were re-teamed on Libeled Lady, Myrna had just wed producer Arthur Hornblow, Jr. As such, a jealous Spence jokingly set up a "Hate Hornblow Table," where he dined at lunch every day with any other envious man who chose to join him. Myrna got a kick out of it. As the duo had became casual friends on the set, Myrna was called upon by MGM to check in on Spence when he went on one of his benders in New York. As she happened to be in town at the time, the studio was hoping that she could locate him and calm him down. Not wanting to get in the middle of anything, her maternal instinct finally got the better of her, and she reached out to Spence who came to her at her hotel. He was blotto and started reigniting his old intentions. When Myrna resisted his advances yet again, Spence became disdainful and shouted at her, "You don't have to worry about me anymore! I've found the woman I want!"-- referring to Katharine Hepburn, with whom he had just wrapped working on their first picture, Woman of the Year. It was his affair with Kate that had instigated his latest, guilty drinking bout and thus this interchange with Myrna. Luckily, it was Kate too that saved Myrna from Spence's advances, for after this declaration, he calmed down and passed out. 

 

Errol Flynn was another notorious ladies' man, but despite evidence to the contrary, he was not predatory, merely... overly eager. The ensuing, unfulfilled romance between him and frequent co-star Olivia DeHavilland has become one for the ages. Their infatuation for each other had grown over the course of three films-- from Captain Blood to Charge of the Light Brigade (left), to Robin Hood-- and reached a fever pitch with the latter picture. Errol's marriage to Lili "Tigerlil" Damita was on the verge of crumbling, and Olivia's warmer, more direct demeanor seemed like safe harbor from Errol's tempestuous marriage. He told Olivia that he was in love with her and wanted to marry her, but Olivia was adamant that they not do anything unsavory until his divorce from Lili was final. Sober, Errol agreed. Drunk... it was another story. After having a few cups one night after shooting, Errol was "feeling no pain" and decided to storm the battlements, broke into Olivia's room-- still in tights no less-- and vowed that he had to have her then and there! Her eyes bulged in surprise, but she still denied him... entry, as it were. Finally, Errol had to be pulled from the premises. After this overly dramatic show, the film wrapped, Errol's marriage ended, but Olivia remained the one that got away. They would perform together in 5 more films-- 6 if you count Thank Your Lucky Stars-- but the passionate frenzy of their earlier days had simmered to a mutual friendship and respect.

Another lovely to give Errol the passover was Veronica Lake (right). Ronni was never a  frequent guest at Errol's soirees up on Mulholland Drive-- it just wasn't her thing-- but she did finally attend one party. Her cynical way of looking at life and Errol's mischievous nature gelled well and made it easy for them to get along, even if the giggling and lash-batting of the other female guests made Veronica internally roll her eyes. Despite the many distractions, it hadn't escaped either star's notice that they were mutually, exceptionally attractive, but since Ronni was going through a divorce from first husband John Detlie and was in no mood for frivolity, things never escalated to a sexual place. But they could have... This particular night, despite Errol's charms, Ronni soon became bored with the pretentious, hangers-on company and decided to call it a night. She went for the exit, and Errol gentlemanly ushered her to the door. As he prepared to say goodbye, a moment passed between them, and their eyes locked. "I think we should go make use of a special bedroom I have, Ronni," he said. For a moment, looking into his seductive eyes, Ronni was probably tempted to accept the offer, but her brains got the better of her. She replied, "I have a special bedroom I'm going to make use of... It's my own, and I'm going to sleep in it." Errol took the shot nobly, kissed her cheek, and said "As you wish, Ms. Lake." Sure, it could have been fun, but with so many women caving in to his charms, Ronni probably did the boy some good by showing him it ain't always that easy. At future parties, he would behave more brotherly, even protecting her from other annoying Lotharios.

Marlene Dietrich was notorious for her lustful ways, and she had a slew of liaisons with the likes of John Wayne, Jimmy Stewart, Jean Gabin, Douglas Fairbanks Jr, and John Gilbert. However, there was one man that she failed to sink her teeth into. Fred MacMurray caught her eye while they were working together on The Lady is Willing (left). Needless to say, Marlene was attracted to the handsome leading man, who had proved his talents in romantic comedy roles wherein he wooed the likes of Carole Lombard and Jean Arthur. Once Marlene turned on the charm, it seemed that Fred would, like all the others, fall under her spell. Such was not the case. Fred reported to work, did his job, and went home, not succumbing to Marlene's come hither gaze, flirtations, or famous German cooking. Finally, director Mitchell Leisen stepped in to put an end to the shenanigans: "Listen, Marlene... Fred's so in love with his wife, Lilly, he couldn't care less about any other woman, so you lay off. Just make the picture." Marlene accepted defeat-- just because she indulged in an open marriage (to Rudi Sieber), didn't mean everyone else did. She could live with that.

Another woman not easily dissuaded was Susan Hayward (right), who found herself smitten by John Wayne while filming The Conqueror. The two had worked together previously on Reap the Wild Wind and The Fighting Seabees, but with a bigger role, a romantic storyline, and more screen time together, Susan found that the old crush she had been nursing had turned into an all out mission for heat. The one hiccup, of course, was that John was married to his 3rd wife Pilar at the time, who had accompanied him on location. While John shied away from Susan's off-camera flirtations, which he found at once entertaining and awkward, her desire for him only seemed to grow. One night, after imbibing a bit too much, a drunken Susan, who was in a gay and uproarious mood, charged right into the rented house where John and Pilar were staying. Man and wife started blinking in amazement at the lacquered starlet, uncertain what to make of her appearance. Susan thusly kicked off her heels and challenged Pilar to a dual for the Western hero's affections: "Take off your shoes and fight me for him!" While Susan put up her dukes for Duke, Pilar just sat bewildered. Finally, John embarrassedly escorted Susan home where she finally conked out. She held no grudges and always remembered John as her favorite leading man. (The fact that Susan's seduction failed seems to be yet another piece of evidence that The Conqueror itself was cursed. In addition to Susan's empty bed, the film was a flop, and because footage was shot in St. George, Utah, near a nuclear weapons test site, it is believed that the exposure caused the cancerous diseases many members of the cast and crew later succumbed to, including Susan and John).

Merle Oberon (left) too made a play for tough guy James Cagney. The fact that he was notoriously faithful to his wife "Willie" only made him more enticing prey for the Indian-born beauty. She found herself becoming increasingly attracted to the shy but fun-loving actor when they went on a WWII tour by train with the Hollywood Victory Caravan. Jim was no fool, and he could sense her arousal, but he laughed it off and went about his business... that is until Merle made it impossible for him to ignore her. Jim came back to his cabin one night to find Merle, stark naked, lying in his bed. Before he knew what was happening, she was all over him, and they were horizontal. Suddenly, as the heated make-out session started entering more serious territory, Merle screamed out, "Oohhh! Jimmy Cagney's f*cking me!" Her exhilarated screech howled some sense back into Jim, because he leapt up and started getting dressed before any permanent damage was done. A bit miffed, when Merle pressed him for a reason, he simply uttered, "I guess I'm not the type." The two continued to be cordial to each other and remained friends, but many of his buddies gave him Hell about giving up such a chance. He'd just shake his head-- an eternal guilty conscience wasn't worth a few moments pleasure, as enticing as Merle was. Thus, Merle remained unsatisfied, and Jim remained married.

When Katharine Hepburn was filming her first picture, A Bill of Divorcement, it was her great privilege to be performing opposite another acclaimed thespian, John Barrymore (right). John had actually seen Kate's screen test for the role and had been impressed. He even offered her eye drops when he thought she was suffering from a hangover, not realizing that she had three, tiny pieces of steel rail caught in her eye and had done her performance half blind-- hence, the pink eye. A trip to the doctor and an eye patch would solve that problem, but Jack would be another. As a man, as an actor, Kate liked him. He was electric, passionate, gifted, funny... and supremely sexual. It was as if he couldn't help it-- he came onto nearly everything that moved, though Kate recalled that he didn't seem the least bit insulted when he was rebuffed. She would learn this first hand. He invited her to his dressing room one day, and she went, assuming he wanted to run lines, chit-chat, etc. She knocked, he called her in, and she entered to find a nude Jack in a bundle of disarrayed blankets. Since Kate was known for her articulation, the sound of her stuttering at this apparition must have been something to hear. She mumbled an apology and high-tailed it outta there. Jack didn't take offense to the refusal, and was-- as Kate herself would say-- an "angel" thereafter. He was especially helpful in teaching her to act for the camera and getting her to give good face.

 

Ava Gardner was one of the most beautiful women to ever come to Hollywood. She was one of the most beautiful women period. So, for a man, any man, to resist her seems unfathomable. Yet, it did happen... for good reason. She and Robert Mitchum engaged in a brief but heated affair when they filmed together on My Forbidden Past (left), oh irony or ironies. However, the emotional entanglements of the fling were a bit much for Robert's style. Ava's passion in the bedroom extended to a fairly fiery temper in her private life, and unlike Ava's favorite sparring partner, Frank Sinatra, Robert didn't take to the drama. Thus, they parted ways. Certainly, Bob never forgot the better parts of their fling, but while he thought well of Ava, he was not inclined to reignite their amor. Years later,  Ava's friend, Betty Sicre, bumped into Bob in a hotel lobby in Madrid. They exchanged pleasantries, but when Betty mentioned that she was waiting for Ava, Bob became atypically nervous and fidgety. He hustled out of there as quickly as he could. He seemed... scared! "Ava Gardner! No, no-- don't tell her I'm here! If I get together with Ava, I'm done for..." Perhaps he was simply nervous about seeing his old lover, or perhaps he was terrified of being caught once more in her web. What was clear was that he was in no mood for another ride on her chaotic merry-go-round. He took refuge behind a palm tree, and Ava was never the wiser.

Another Robert-- Stack (right)-- would too get an invitation for a play date with Ava. However, while the young up-and-comer was understandably excited about the opportunity to rub up against one of Hollywood's sexiest women, fortune was not on his side. Bob met the luscious Ava at the Naples Restaurant in Hollywood. She overheard him from another booth as he discussed his latest picture, The Bullfighter and the Lady. As a lover of all things matador, Ava made her way into the conversation, where she realized that the orator wasn't just interesting, but kinda cute. No shy violet, Ava invited the young actor back to her house for drinks, which he, of course, accepted: My God! I'm going to Ava Gardner's! It was a dream come true for any man. As Bob mixed martinis, Ava disappeared to-- in cliched fashion-- slip into something more comfortable. The two continued talking, but as the conversation became more sexual, Bob got a sick feeling in his gut. Literally. Either he was suffering from food poisoning, or he was coming down with the flu. Then again, maybe he was intimidated by Ava's assertive sensuality: "How does it feel to face an animal that wants to kill you?" She was referring to the bull, of course, but she may as well have been talking about herself. In any case, Bob was in no shape to make love to one of the leading love goddesses of film. Feeling queasy, he made a hasty exit, leaving Ava flabbergasted. For years, he would kick himself for missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime, but with Bob Mitchum's story, it seems fate may have done him a favor. Yet, he always wondered, "Is this the reason I wasn't cast in The Sun Also Rises?"

MENTAL MONTAGE: The Sincerest Form of Flattery

Marlene, as an extreme personality- here in Blonde Venus-- 

was practically begging to be caricatured.

The struggle for fame and celebrity in Hollywood is a continual one. Even when someone has a few films under his belt and has a somewhat familiar face, the work that goes into maintaining his star status and position is more difficult than the public can ever imagine. Therefore, it naturally follows that no celeb is ever comfortable on his pedestal, which at any moment may topple. If he takes a break to blink, his moment may be over forever. From the outside, it looks easy, but to the one swimming upstream, it is impossible to ever utter the words, "I made it!" There is one tell-tale sign, however, to intimate that one has evolved past the cluster of "working actors" to the realm of bona fide "star," or perhaps even to the land of "legend." If you're popular enough to be mocked, heavily referenced, or flat-out imitated, you may have finally surmounted the curve. Today's stars can look forward to a lambast on "SNL" or "South Park," but before the days of television, there were only movies. Here are some stars who were big enough to be [mocked] in pictures.

The most obvious example is the hilarious haranguing of this month's muse, Marlene Dietrich, by one of the Queens of Comedy, Madeline Kahn, in Blazing Saddles (left). Mel Brooks's lampoon of the Western genre was derived from many classic films, including Dodge City, but the reference to Destry Rides Again never becomes more obvious than when Madeline takes the stage as Lili Von Schtupp. "Lili," one assumes, is a reference to one of Marlene's classic songs, "Lili Marleen" and "Schtupp" to... well, that's one Yiddish word everyone understands, I think. Madeline's every mannerism as Lili is clearly taken from the assertively sexual "Frenchy" that Marlene portrayed in Destry, and Madeline's impression of Marlene's accented speech is too humorously exaggerated and aped: "Oh, a wed wose..." Nothing is so spectacular as her rendition of the original song, "I'm So Tired." Her comedic expertise makes the performance more than a hammy imitation, it is genius. With Gene Wilder's so-quick-you'll-miss-it gun draw and Cleavon Little's confident and sly portrayal of the west's first black sheriff, there are few moments for one to draw breaths between laughs during the film, but it is Madeline's Marlene that takes the cake. As Marlene was still alive when the film was released, one wonders at her reaction, if she even saw it. Another screen beauty, Hedy Lamarr, gets a "shout out" as well, since Harvey Korman's character is named "Hedley Lamar." However, Hedy was not flattered, and sued Mel Brooks for what she considered to be the gross use of her name.

Another great parody comes via Carole Lombard in The Princess Comes Across. This screwball comedy is a mish-mash of mystery, murder, and maritime love. Carole portrays actress wannabe Wanda Nash who, in order to conceal her identity, pretends to be a Swedish princess (Olga) on her cruise to America, resulting in a lengthy, pitch-perfect send up of none other than Greta Garbo. From the moment Carole appears as Olga, beautiful, glamorous, and aloof, there is no question as to whom she is imitating. Her distant, irritated poise and uber-European accent-- "Dis is verry annoying..."-- draws an instant comparison to the eternal, gorgeous hermit who only wanted to "be alone." Of course, Carole is at her best when the mask comes off and her abrupt Brooklyn character has time to rant and fuss about the stress of maintaining her hidden identity and dealing with all those dead bodies that keep piling up on deck. A romance too ensues between Olga/Wanda and bandleader King Mantell, portrayed by a constant Carole co-star, (there's an alliteration for ya'), Fred MacMurray. Greta's very anti-social, dramatic, enigmatic, and slightly egotistical persona made her an easy person to duplicate, but through Carole's comedic expertise the likeness is exquisite (see right). With that special Carole stamp, we have a character who is part elegant and part kooky. For one great Hollywood screen goddess to portray another is superb, and the divide between the easy-going, deviant manner of Carole versus the otherworldy iciness of Garbo is both clear and divine.

In the film Monkey Business, Groucho, Chico, Zeppo, and Harpo Marx all used their singing skills and slight physical resemblance to Maurice Chevalier to comic effect. On yet another seafaring voyage, the four brothers are stow-aways (see left) who cause the usual amount of Marxian chaos and girl-chasing on their way to America. Groucho woos Thelma Todd, Zeppo befriends a pretty passenger, and Harpo and Chico step in as the vessel's very under-qualified barbers, all while evading capture and the anger of one very miffed gangster. After they make it across the Atlantic, they are left in a quandary: without passports, they will  be unable to disembark. Luckily, they swipe an ID from a passenger who coincidentally happens to be the Maurice Chevalier. One by one, they take turns offering the passport to the authorities, who of course doubt their identity. Forced to prove themselves as the French crooner and Lothario, they each sing the Chevalier classic, "You Brought a New Kind of Love to Me," only to be denied access to American soil for their very poor impersonations. Ironically, the deliberately mute Harpo comes closest to victory, as he lip syncs the verses to a recording strapped on his back, but a slight malfunction botches his liberation as well. However, as in all things Marx, all's well that ends crazily, and hats off to Maurice for the honorary mention.

A very direct homage was paid to everyone's favorite ghoul, Boris Karloff (right), as well. "Arsenic and Old Lace" was a play penned by Joseph Kesselring in the early '40s. The plot revolved around two lovable old ladies who perform the benevolent service of murdering old, lonely men past their prime-- somewhat akin to the way the Eskimos set their elder community members adrift, or so I've heard. Their plot is discovered by their nephew, Mortimer, who is in the midst of possible matrimony. As if the shock of blood on his sweet aunties' hands isn't enough, he too has to combat an uncle who thinks he's Teddy Roosevelt, and his brother Jonathan, another murdering criminal, who returns home with a new face to hide his identity. Unfortunately, the doctor who performed the plastic surgery was intoxicated during the operation, and Jonathan came out looking like... Boris Karloff. Of all the horrifying faces to be trapped with! Audiences totally responded to the joke, which obviously runs throughout the entire play. Of course, the real clincher was that Boris Karloff was playing the role of Jonathan himself! Sadly, for various contractual reasons, Boris was unable to participate in the film version of 1944, which starred Cary Grant as Mortimer and the capable Raymond Massey stepping in as the facially mutated Jonathan. Since the play and the film made Boris even more immortal than he already was, I suppose he had the last laugh.

Sometimes, in the quest for stardom, one starlet makes it over another by a hair. This was definitely the case with Veronica Lake, whose iconic 'do (left) made her a sensation in her own day and keeps her a legend in ours. Ronni's hair was her "thing," just like Marlene was known for her gams and Jimmy Durante was known for his schnoz. Articles were written about her mop's hygienic upkeep and daily grooming regimen, public service announcements for safety were made with her hair used as a prop, and countless jokes were made at her expense. Possessing a good sense of humor, Ronni took the jests in kind. After all, they only helped to boost her appeal. If it took her mane to keep her in the mainstream, then so be it. Yet another reference to her famous tresses was made in Billy Wilder's first directorial effort, The Major and the Minor. Ginger Rogers, in yet another case of hidden identity, runs into trouble when she cannot afford an adult train ticket, which causes her to pose as an adolescent for cheaper fare. Unfortunately, she gets mixed up with, and sexually attracted to, fellow traveler Ray Milland while in disguise and winds up at his military academy still portraying a precocious pre-teen. Forced to attend a junior dance, she encounters a room full of young women who "all think they're Veronica Lake": cue camera pan to a row of seated girls with their faces half-covered in hair. It is a priceless guffaw that is typical of Wilder's comedies. Not only was it a fantastic gag at the time, but this small, hilarious reference also places it firmly in its timeline when modern viewers watch it today.

Speaking of sexpots... Marilyn Monroe topped them all (right). Her star power would be exemplified ad nauseum during her life, as it continues to be in her death, but interestingly it too was brought to life via Jack Lemmon. The two had worked together in the film Some Like It Hot, and while the consummately professional Jack was a little put off by Marilyn's at times erratic behavior, he could not deny her inexplicable charisma and warmth, which in the end gave him a soft spot for her. A year later, now as one of Billy Wilder's favorite actors, Jack was given the leading role in The Apartment opposite Shirley MacLaine. Acclaimed for its comedy and sympathy, it in a way reunited Jack with his conflicted friend when one particular scene pays homage to Marilyn-- although, since Billy too worked with Marilyn, this was a way of professionally tipping his hat to her screen power despite their post-Hot feud. Early in the film, Jack's C.C. Baxter is called by work colleague Joe Dobisch (Ray Walston), who is in a frenzy, because he just picked up a girl and has nowhere to take her for a sexual rendezvous. Since Baxter's apartment has become the go-to for cheating spouses, Joe asks for the use of his digs. When Baxter begs off so he can rest, Joe becomes adamant. The girl, he insists, is exceptional: "She looks like Marilyn Monroe!" With that, how can Baxter refuse? He gives up his room so that his work superior can live out every man's fantasy-- or at least as close as a guy like him will ever get. "Marilyn" and "Monroe" were apparantly the secret passwords.

  

Marilyn co-operated in another public celeb kudos earlier in her career when she starred in How to Marry a Millionaire, however Lauren Bacall rightfully maintains the bulk of the credit. The movie, of course, is about three lovely but struggling young women (Lauren, Marilyn, and Betty Grable) who are Hell-bent and determined to marry well to rich men. In the film, Lauren befriends the elder but always gentlemanly William Powell, who resists her advances due to their May-December age gap, yet later decides to court her in earnest (see left). In doing so, the other two gals question Lauren's choice-- he is old after all. But, Lauren rebuffs their quips by making an example of all of the handsome older men in the world: "I've always liked older men. Look at Roosevelt, look at Churchill. Look at that old fellow what's-his-name in The African Queen. Absolutely crazy about him!" In this case, the crack wasn't just business, it was personal, for in real life Lauren was already married to Queen star Humphrey Bogart-- her senior by nearly 25 years. One imagines he found the cinematic joke hilarious and, of course, appreciated the extra publicity.

Lauren Bacall enjoys a day off with her "old man."

MENTAL MONTAGE: Screen Star Life Savers

One of cinema's favorite heroes, John Wayne, saves the day and rides off 

into the sunset with Natalie Wood and Jeffrey Hunter in The Searchers.

We often come to worship our film heroes with very little impetus. Our great admiration is born of a strange combination of respect and envy. Whatever it is that draws us to our favorite movie star-- her glamour and class, his strength and swagger-- one has to admit that the resulting awe is comparatively ridiculous in the wider scheme of things. Especially coming on the heels of the recent ten year anniversary of the Twin Towers devastation, where innocent citizens lost their lives and even more brave men and women in the police force and fire department risked their lives to try to save them, the vanity of screen hero adoration seems a bit shameful. Movie stars are just people after all... But our need to both hold them up and tear them down remains perhaps the most fascinating thing about the great facade that is Hollywood. Our love for them is always there, for whatever reason, and in the end it is our gratitude for the personal sacrificing of their souls on the silver screen that demands our steadfast devotion. Their work, therefore, is to be commended. Yet, there are some stars who have proved above and beyond their contemporaries that they deserve the title of "Hero" not for their outstanding cinematic efforts, but for the actions they performed behind the scenes. In these moments, when appearing at their most human and most brave, certain men and women have done more than enrich the public heart through entertainment; they have even saved lives.

Ginger Roger's (left) adherence to the controversial religion of Christian Science may have raised a few cynical eyebrows in her lifetime, and still in ours, but whatever the outside opinion, her faith served her well throughout her many years. Perhaps beyond anything else, it was Ginger's own core strength that made her so sturdy and reliable when those around her needed someone to lean on. Heaven knows, she certainly nursed more than one husband through a peculiar ailment and made a believer out of him. One can only imagine that mantras like "Every problem has a solution," and "This too shall pass," continually played in Ginger's head. She never seemed to lose her composure under pressure or give in to feelings of defeat or depression. If something had to be done, in her hands, one could trust that it would be done. This incomprehensible resilience would come in handy to many but to one woman in particular. When traveling in Rio (of course) with husband of the time Jacques Bergerac, Ginger would come into the acquaintance of upcoming actress Elaine Stewart. The two hit it off right away, so Ginger was deeply upset when she learned from the morning paper that Elaine had been taken seriously ill with acute appendicitis and was being hospitalized. It was even more shocking to her when a strange Brazilian gentleman informed her that Elaine had been asking for her in particular. After all, Ginger had only just met the girl and was far from being a close friend or family member. Nonetheless, despite being perplexed, Ginger went to Elaine, who in her frail condition seemed to be hanging on by a thread. Undeterred, Ginger leaned in and whispered to Elaine to stay positive and maintain a grateful heart. She encouraged her to stare at the ceiling and fill it with thoughts of all that Elaine was thankful for in her life, hoping to encourage her to have the will to live. After offering more words of faith, Ginger departed from the slightly alleviated patient. The next day, Ginger returned, and the very shocked doctor explained that Elaine had almost completely recuperated. It turns out that Ginger had made her previous visit during a very critical hour. Had Elaine not made it past that very hour, she would have died. It was Ginger's words that had carried her through. Elaine thenceforward considered Ginger to be her guardian angel.

Veronica Lake (right), despite her now well known feisty demeanor, was also a bashful and easily intimidated ingenue when she was just starting out in the business. Never fully certain that she wanted to be an actress, she already felt like an outsider when making the rounds as an extra with the other more obviously ambitious girls. Yet, Ronni was no shrinking violet, and she held her own and stayed true to who she was when thrown into the melting pot of hopeful young starlets. She certainly never thought she would make it big, but she was grateful when she was given opportunities in the business, and her discerning myopic eye easily zeroed in on people that she found to be truly helpful to her or genuinely hardworking and talented on their own. One such man who impressed her and won her respect was director John Farrow who worked with Ronni on Sorority House. Though "worked with" is probably too strong a phrase, since the two had little contact. Nonetheless, when she wrapped, Veronica decided to give John a token of her esteem- a Catholic medal. John was stunned, probably not having noticed the small girl amongst the other lovelies, but he accepted the gift willingly. Years later, the two would reunite, at which point Veronica was one of Hollywood's favorite sexpots. She didn't remember her small act of kindness to John, but he certainly did. He told her that the medal she had gifted him had actually saved his life. While fighting in WWII, he had been shot, but the medal had stopped the bullet! It turned out that a small act of kindness had gone a long way, and the pipsqueak beauty had become a savior to the war-weathered filmmaker.

Lon Chaney (left) was considered a silent saint to many. While he remained a mysterious man in the press, those who knew and worked with him were often touched by his far-reaching generosity and selflessness. A man of integrity, he could easily sniff out the like quality in others, and such people could always count on him for a hand in desperate times. His equal empathy for the underdog also created in him a sort of unexpected avenger. He always stuck up for his leading ladies when he felt they were being mistreated or manhandled, as Loretta Young and Joan Crawford could attest. But, he expected no gratitude for these acts. He simply stepped in, performed a selfless act, and then seemed to slip out again like a ghost. This was a characteristic always present in him, it seems, for examples of it can be found long before he ever reached stardom and started concocting his public persona. Sometime around 1915, when Lon was still struggling to get any work he could get his hands on, he like many had to take the the Pacific Electric cars up to the studios. On one particular day, there was a serious accident when a truck ran right into two of the rail cars. As a result, the truck passenger's left leg was severed. Without any hesitation, Lon, who was riding on one of the cars, ripped the shirt from his very body to help bandage and stop the bleeding of the injured man, who certainly would have died had it not been for the timely help. During a period of history when actors were frowned upon and ostracized in the early Hollywood community, this small act of heroism helped to change more than a few minds. For now, a nameless actor was a hero to one man, but in time he would be a great hero to many.

One of Moviedom's favorite onscreen couples was too one of Hollywood's best pair of friends. Montgomery Clift and Elizabeth Taylor became thick as thieves during the filming of A Place in the Sun (right), and while Liz may have preferred an offscreen romance as well, Monty's sexual preferences relegated their relationship to a platonic one. (Though rumor has it they did have a game or two of tonsil hockey). The pairing made sense. As two of the most beautiful people to ever grace the silver screen, they simply looked good together, and the deep and abiding love and respect that they had for each other endured until the end of Monty's life. Even Richard Burton was jealous of it. While the pals' union was prematurely severed with Monty's death, things were almost brought to an even more abrupt end much sooner. After attending a late night party at Liz's, with the likes of Rock Hudson and Liz's (at the time) husband Michael Wilding, a very tired Monty jumped into his car to make the trek home. Another of Monty's lifelong friends, Kevin McCarthy, was ahead of him in his own car, leading the way down the hill to make sure that Monty got home ok. In his rear view mirror, Kevin witnessed Monty lose control of his vehicle and run straight into a telephone pole. 

Monty filming Raintree County with Liz post-crash.

As quickly as he could, Kevin raced back up to Liz's house for help, and immediately Elizabeth rushed down the hill to her friend, who lay beneath the dashboard, semi-conscious, his face half torn off, and covered in blood. Realizing that he was choking, she jammed her hand down his throat to remove his obstructing knocked out teeth, clearing his air passage and saving his life. Rock joined in, helping to pull Monty from the car as they awaited the ambulance. Liz insisted on riding to the hospital with her battered friend. Thanks to her, Monty did not die that night crumpled up in his car. He even gave her his two front teeth as souvenirs! However, he would suffer the consequences of the wreck for his remaining days. His handsome visage was irreparably marred, and the physical pain he experienced led to an even further dependence on chemical substitutes for alleviation. So, while this wreck didn't directly kill him, it helped to end his life further down the line. At this point in time, Liz was not willing to let him go. Had she always had him under her wing, perhaps she could have saved him in the long run. After Liz's own passing this past March, one hopes that the two are finally together again.

NOW, THAT'S FUNNY: Part VI

Ginger Rogers: the face that launched a thousand woos. 

Just ask Burgess Meredith...

During the Hollywood hey-day, Ginger Rogers was one of the silver screen gals whom the men of America considered a dream come true. One thing that set her apart from her contemporaries was her approachability. As flirty and sassy as she was, her sexiness had a cuteness to it that made her both desirable and obtainable. She was the gorgeous girl-next-door who danced her way onto the silver screen and sang her way into men's hearts. The proof of her effect on the opposite sex could be seen early in her career. In addition to garnering a great amount of fan attention, her co-stars and co-workers often found themselves mooning over her. While working on the Broadway hit musical "Girl Crazy" in 1930, her scene partner Allen Kearns revealed his smitten condition before a live audience. During a scene together, Allen was to say to Ginger's character (Molly Gray), "Molly, I love you," (as seen left). Instead, he blurted out, "Ginger, I love you!"The audience started cracking up, and after a blush, the duo had no choice but to keep the scene going as if nothing had happened. However, the slip-up was so charming that they decided to do it again on purpose for the remaining shows. As a result, when the film version was made at MGM starring Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland, Garland's character became "Ginger," both in honor of the preceding leading lady and the embarrassing romantic blunder that helped endear the show to audiences.

Burgess Meredith can be identified as another one of those pinched by Cupid's arrow in Ginger's presence. He made no secret of his affinity for the beautiful actress during the filming of their mutual project Tom, Dick and Harry (both in the film right) and flirted openly with her. He wanted to "woo" her, as would become blatantly obvious. Their attachment would never become truly romantic and was more of a friendship in which Burgess would poke fun at both Ginger's star persona and her enchanting effect on the opposite sex. As a prank, he started to send her lavish gifts every day on the set. The first was a box of chocolates, or rather a "candy woo," as he called it. The only problem was that the yummies were actually made of paper. He then sent her phony flowers as a "flower woo," fake jewelry ("pearl woo") and a ratty fur coat ("fur woo").  The rest of the cast and crew got very caught up in the hilarity, even going so far as to give Burgess suggestions and pointers on how to attack next. They came up with a "diamond woo" and a "car woo"-- the former involved an enormous fake gem and the latter a broken down Model-T Ford. Eventually, the gag got old and Burgess wore himself out. The two laughingly established an armistice and enjoyed the rest of the shoot. Ginger would always look back on this film fondly because of Burgess, whose shenanigans earned him a special place in her heart. In that respect at least, the wooing worked.

Speaking of pranks, it wasn't always the gents having fun at the ladies' expense. Sometimes, the girls got to have a little revenge as well. Hollywood's earliest Comedienne Fatale was Mabel Normand, whose carefree and boisterous humor made her a popular girl with friends and fans alike (see beauty, left). Part of her charm lied in her ability to lighten the mood when others were taking life too seriously. Sam Goldwyn would learn this when the gorgeous pip, unbeknown to him, was following him around  making faces while he lectured a film crew. Upon discovery, the perturbed Sam couldn't stay mad at her long. This was not just because he was in love with her like every other guy on the lot, but because no one could seem to stay mad at Mabel. Not even Ben Turpin, who had good reason. While filming one particular scene, Ben was to do a bit with a live bear, which terrified him. In the days before computer generated effects, actors had to duel with live animals all the time, and this kind of authenticity scared the bejeezus out of the cross-eyed clown. As such, he insisted that a stuffed bear be used instead. This was a logical request, but Mabel-- who had done her share of animal stunt work-- decided to have a little fun at Ben's expense. Ben crawled into bed beside the fake bear and, just to be sure it was phony, stuck one of Louis Fazenda's hat pins in it. It laid still, so Ben relaxed. Little did he know that Mabel too was in that bed with him, buried beneath the stuffed mammal. No sooner had the camera started rolling , then Mabel moved the bear's arms around Ben, who jumped up in fear and shot out of frame! The moment was so hilarious that it was used in the final print. Mabel thought it was a gas. After all, if a little lady like her could go mono e mono with a lion (in The Extra Girl), then a grown man like Ben could be teased a little about his lack of carnivore courage.

Ben Turpin, armed and ready for Mabel. (I wonder if she's the

 reason he went cross-eyed in the first place)?

Sid Grauman was known for two things in Hollywood: being the greatest showman in the motion-picture business and being the grandest prankster. As lush and extravagant as his movie palaces were-- like the Egyptian and the Chinese theaters in Hollywood-- so too were his gags. One of his favorite marks, and every one else's apparently, was again Sam Goldwyn. The uptight, no-nonsense businessman clearly needed to be taken down a peg or two. Since Sam was an early movie mogul, it was easy for him to find young women willing to go out and enjoy the town with him, and he certainly could have his pick of the prettiest, eagerest ingenues around. Thus, Sid decided to enlist the help of his pal and fellow funny man, Charles Chaplin (both pals right), to teach the egomaniac a bit of a lesson. Charlie offered to set Sam up on a date with a gorgeous girl: "And I mean gorgeous, Sam. You won't find another like her!" Sam, to no surprise, agreed to the blind date, and nearly went blind himself when he found himself sitting across from Sid... In drag. (Pause for spastic laughter as Chaplin grabs his side and hits the floor howling). Another kindly cruel joke was played on friend Ernst Lubitsch, whom Sid knew for a fact had a fear of flying. One day, when Sid caught wind that Ernst was about to (reluctantly) take to the air, he concocted another scheme. After the plane had taken off, he paid two actors dressed as pilots to run from the cockpit and exclaim, "I don't know about you, but I'm getting outta here!" They then jumped from the plane (with parachutes one hopes) leaving a shaking Ernst in their wake. Luckily, there were still authentic pilots flying the plane, and Ernst made it home safe, where he most certainly gave Sid a swift kick in the behind.

Gloria Swanson's hands are immortalized at Grauman's Chinese 

Theater with the help of pal Sid.

Not all of these guffaw-inducing moments were purposeful, however. Sometimes, in fact, certain people were not even aware that they were the butt of the joke. Take Gary Cooper, for example. Coop certainly had his charms and could throw out a dirty limerick or two, but he wasn't really known for his side-splitters. Nonetheless, he could be accidentally entertaining from time to time. Just ask neighbor Veronica Lake. Ronni (right in Ramrod) had taken to Coop, since he was a salt of the earth kind of guy and not one of those stuck-up, pretentious types who so annoyed her. Thus, when she would see him passing by atop his horse in the hills near her home, it would always bring a friendly smile to her face... and a bit of a chuckle. See, Coop had a habit of going for midnight rides when he couldn't fall asleep, especially on Friday evenings. So, he'd climb on his horse and ride a pace, only to  finally conk out in the saddle. The first time Ronni saw his snoring, slumped form ambling by, she probably cocked that iconic eyebrow with a "What the...?" But she got used to it. She was more worried when she didn't see Coop's horse-aided somnambulism than when she did. "No need to wave. Coop's just sleep-riding again. Saturday morning, and all's well!"

Coop on his horse and much more alert.