FYI

Don't forget to refer to my Contents page for a more convenient reference to past articles.

For More L.A. La Land, visit my writing/art/film appreciation site on Facebook at Quoth the Maven and follow me on Twitter @ Blahlaland. :)

Showing posts with label Vivian Vance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vivian Vance. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

HISTORY LESSON: TV Movie [Stars] - Part 2



The beautiful Ava Gardner shows her versatility as a special celebrity
guest on the quiz show "What's My Line?"

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

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 One such person was comedian extraordinaire Groucho Marx (left), whose grease-painted mustache had long been replaced by the real thing.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

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

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

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

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

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


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

It's Show Time!

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


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

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


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

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

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


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

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


Don Adams would portray the incompetent secret agent Maxwell Smart on "Get Smart" 
in the late 1960s on television and, in a role reversal, Steve Carell would bring
the same character to life in the movies in 2008.

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

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

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?

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

STAR OF THE MONTH: Lucille Ball


Lucille Desiree Ball


John Lennon once said that in the world of music, "Before Elvis, there was nothing."  I suppose that it is safe to say, in the world of Television, Before Lucy... there was nothing. Though I normally choose to dedicate my articles to those who helped shape the film world, there can be no denying the impact that Lucy had on that new-fangled contraption called the TV set. Though she wasn't the first performer to appear on the small screen, she would become the biggest. Along with husband Desi Arnaz, Lucille Ball would redefine-- in fact invent-- the situation comedy. Due to her weekly accessibility to salivating viewers, she too would finally achieve the stardom and celebrity she had always craved. In order to be big, Lucy had to get small. In result, she remains one of the most famous and recognizable actresses that ever lived.


In her early career, Lucille was compared to blonde screwball Carole Lombard-- 
a good friend-- whom she closely resembles here (before she went red).


All was not rosy, however. Comedians are perhaps the best actors, adeptly using laughter to detract and distract from their own personal torments. The facade of the hilarious, romantic, and peachy-keen domestic bliss of Lucy and Ricky Ricardo is a testament to the talent of both Lucy and Desi-- whose marriage was crumbling even as their hit TV show was skyrocketing them to fame and fortune. For Lucy, pain and personal tragedy were more familiar that laughs and hijinks. She would spend her life outrunning, out-thinking, and flat-out mugging her way out of obscurity, poverty, and invisibility. A born leader with a one-track-mind kind of ambition since her youth, Lucille Ball always pushed past the downward spirals in life in the belief that achieving her dreams would erase all sorrow. The eldest of three children by Henry Durrell Ball and Desiree Evelyn Hunt, Lucy was the most effected by her father's early, shocking death to typhoid fever. She was then neglected the paternal love she so craved by her new step-father, the gruff Ed Peterson. Shuffled between her mother, her grandparents, and any relative that would have her, Lucy's tenderest years were spent on shaky ground. When she dreamed of the future-- of performing, of being an actress, of being a star-- it wasn't the fame or money that called to her so much as the need for security. Safety. To live without financial worry was incredibly important. To have the adulation of fans was a promise of love. Yet every time she reached a peak, she clutched madly at it, certain that she would lose her grip on the life for which she had fought so hard. This insecurity, the same that fueled her tireless work ethic, was also the one that sabotaged her happiness. Even after becoming the Lucy that we all know and love, she would cry to herself: "Why can't I be happy?"


In an early RKO bit part in Follow the Fleet with Fred and Ginge. 


As with many actors, Lucy's one blanket of safety from her own conflicting and destructive thoughts was performing. From an early age, she had a knack for it. Whether BS-ing her way through a job as a short order cook in her native Jamestown, NY, earning rave reviews for her thirteen-year-old debut in a local musical (for which she was compared to the Jeanne Eagles), or taking on any and every silly role flung her way once she reached Hollywood, when on stage, she was always able to (temporarily) put the blues behind her. But it wasn't easy. Lucy was hard to peg. A hard worker, she was attractive but not "gorgeous," though she did find early work as a model. Her odd ball energy made her difficult to categorize. The studios doubted her leading lady ability, normally casting her as the smart-mouthed best friend in films like Stage Door or tough cookies and bad girls in films like Dance Girl Dance. Her blink-and-you'll-miss-them roles opposite rising stars like Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire at RKO were what kept food on the table, as well as her badly written, poorly produced clunkers that made her, as she called herself, "Queen of the Bs." Still, her performances were solid when given the chance. She holds her own against George Sanders and Boris Karloff in Lured, and in The Big Street, her complex and deeply felt portrayal of a crippled show-girl breaks your heart. Yet, after appearing opposite The Marx Brothers, The Stooges, and Hepburn and Tracy, the poor girl still couldn't get anywhere above the title. Time, diligence, and love would later change this.


A match made in Hollywood Heaven and 
Personal Hell: the tortured love of Lucy and Desi.


Lucille Ball was attracted to the handsome Cuban musician Desi Arnaz since the moment she saw him performing on stage in "Too Many Girls." When the two were cast in the film version of this hit, lightning struck them both. Five years her junior, there was something about the passionate, charismatic, and exotic man that fascinated her. Their relationship was tumultuous and full of jealousy from the get-go, but in the early stages this only fueled their infatuation. Quickly ditching the people they were with, their subsequent marriage was more of a dare or challenge than a well thought out plan. Lucille must have had a premonition of what was to come: she wore black to her wedding. Madly in love and angry as Hell most of the time, the two rarely saw each other, merely passing cars on the hill as Lucy drove off to work in the morning and Desi was arriving home from working the clubs the previous night. Affairs were numerous, mostly on Desi's side, but it is also speculated that Lucy dabbled herself. As she clawed for her career, she too fought for the solid family life that had always been denied her. It was like forcing square pegs into round holes-- with their mutual ambitions, a quiet domesticity was never in the cards. Lucy yearned for a child, but with Desi always travelling with his band, getting pregnant was next to impossible. The most she could hope for was her career. In this at least it can be said that the Arnaz's were in union. Despite their bickering, philandering, and contention, they equally recognized each other's talents. In 1951, they would get a chance to showcase them together.


In the Season One Episode "Lucy Does a TV Commercial," Lucy performed in what 
she recalled as the greatest comedic moment of her career-- 
pushing Vitameatavegamin with disastrous results.


Lucy was doing the radio show "My Favorite Husband" when, after much praise, the idea was born to turn it into a television program. Lucy was adamant that Desi replace Richard Denning as her husband and that the show be refashioned to suit his persona. With the help of producer Jess Oppenheimer, writers Bob Carroll and Madelyn Pugh, and CBS, many hours of blood, sweat, toil, and tears, brought about "I Love Lucy." All concerned worked tirelessly to take a shaky premise, constantly rewritten scripts, and an insecure, nitpicking leading lady-- whose perfectionism made her demanding one minute and left her in tears the next-- to create a pilot about a married couple whose relationship is constantly tested by the entertainer husband's patriarchal stances and the wife's madcap attempts to be a part of his show. The finished idea sold, and after some minor changes-- including casting an older landlord couple played by Vivian Vance and William Frawley-- the game was set. For 9 Seasons, "I Love Lucy" triumphed. Desi proved himself to be a gifted businessman, who spearheaded his own show's success, as well as that of other shows that would be produced at Desilu studios, (including "The Untouchables"). The show broke barriers by introducing an "interracial" couple, by showing a wedded couple in bed together (though their twins were pushed together and not legitimately a double), and by daring to have Lucy announce to Ricky that she was "pregnant"-- which at that time was as gasp-inducing as "Murphy Brown's" later out-of-wedlock pregnancy.


From Season 2's "The Operetta." Lucy had no humility or vanity 
when it came to comedy. She would do whatever it took.


On the screen, Ricky and Lucy were in love. Off screen, Lucy and Desi fought constantly, as did Vivian Vance and William Frawley, whose mutual antipathy was mirrored in a much more cushiony version through their characters. Yet, for the sake of the show, everyone grinned and bore it. Frawley gave up booze while filming, though his shakes are often painfully visible to the viewer. Vance, who was constantly undergoing emotional breakdowns, remained a strong force of reason whose keen perception of story helped forge stronger scripts. While originally Lucy was intimidated by Vance, once pulling her false lashes from her face because "Only Lucy has fake lashes on this show!" the two grew on each other. Lucy came to rely on Vance, and Vance grew to understand Lucy's outbursts as indicative of her raging vulnerabilities. Desi enjoyed his position at the studio, becoming very knowledgeable about everyone on staff, helping to expand the empire, and gaining a reputation as a great judge of talent. Yet, in the end, as the Lucy/Desi marriage fell apart, so too did the Ricardos. After the dueling duo could go no longer, they would divorce each other, and "I Love Lucy" would divorce itself from living rooms around the world.


With a constant collaborator (especially in later years), Bob Hope
in The Facts of Life.


By the end of "I Love Lucy," Lucille Ball was enough of an icon to retire, had she so wanted. Yet, the perpetual laborer in her continued on. She returned sans Desi in "The Lucy Show," (again with Vance), and later flew solo in "Here's Lucy!", but both shows failed to attract the same adoration. She too took on stage roles and returned to cinema opposite other aging contemporaries like Bob Hope. Her most lasting effort would be with Henry Fonda in Yours Mine and Ours, though she continued working ceaselessly until her death. Lucy, always superstitious, believed that the letters "AR" gave her luck. She herself would say that "Lucille Ball" was a nobody until she became an "Arnaz" and even moreso "Lucy Ricardo." After her divorce from Desi, she would marry comedian Gary Morton, perhaps in the hope that he would bring the same good vibrations. Yet, though Gary offered constancy, the vim and vigor of Desi was irreplaceable. Though horrible as husband and wife and lackluster as parents due to their obsessive careers (they would eventually have two children, Lucie and Desi, Jr), some theorize that Lucy and Desi never truly fell out of love with each other. Their lives were too deeply interconnected to completely split asunder. The best of them remains in the continuing syndication of their best-beloved hit. Even today, new generations fall under the Ricardos' spell.


A brilliant photo depicting the fascinating, mysterious
 duality of Lucille Ball. One perspective reveals her 
determination, the other her vulnerability.


The true honor, however, belongs to the adorable, rubber-faced, accident-prone, but ever-loving Lucy. In one being, she was both Beauty and Bananas. Goofing for her audiences, she hoped that some of the joy she gave would be returned to her; that her audiences' laughter would warm her. For this, she fought until her dying day. It would be easy to say that she was merely a ham, but in her performances there is great depth and awareness, which would allow the show to maintain its power even after the collapse of the nostalgic nuclear family and the heights of the feminist movement. Lucy has become one of the biggest female icons of all time, building her empire out of the tiny box that most actors feared. Her lasting impression is that of joy, of letting go, of finding the humor and innocence in every day life. Groucho Marx would once say that Lucy wasn't a comedienne, she was an actress. Some interpreted this as an insult, but I find it to be a precise observation. There was art in what Lucy did. Orson Welles would agree. When observing Lucy rehearse on her show, he openly stated that he was "watching the world's greatest actress." Her hard work continues to pay off. In black and white, the fiery red head with the big blue eyes continues her reign as the eternal Queen of Comedy. We still Love you Lucy.