THE REEL REALS: Shirley MacLaine

Shirley MacLaine

On this, Shirley MacLaine's Birthday, it only seems appropriate to celebrate the great lady. And she is great. She's fab'. She's talented. Mostly, she's fun. Shirley's great allure as an actress is her immediate accessibility. She is a down to earth and open woman whose sincere presence and authentic approachability makes her more of a chum than a movie star. In truth, one doesn't really equate her with the grand glamour of the typical Hollywood goddess, and this certainly isn't because her effect is any less profound. It's because she wouldn't want it that way. Even in her characterizations, she cuts through all the BS and the posturing and gets to the meat of the matter, whether to do so she has to paint herself as a clown, a crab apple, a vulnerable child-woman, or simply a breath of fresh air. You can't help but fall in love with her. A member of the original Rat Pack, and a woman who was able to get Robert Mitchum to fall head over heels for her, she must have been doing something right.

I've always found Shirley's work much more fascinating than her actor/filmmaker brother's. What Warren Beatty was unable to totally strip off in terms of emotional exposure, Shirley did without effort. An intelligent and insightful actress, her smarts do not reveal themselves in pompous intellectualization but are rather insinuated through her actions and receptivity. Shirley openly indulges in her personal life in expeditions into a "higher plane" of consciousness and general existence, and this is evident in her work. Her accuracy in interpreting the world she sees around her is razor sharp, and indeed it hits you right in the heart when her gritty, earthy honesty is truly unleashed (Terms of Endearment, The Apartment). Like all the best actors and actresses, her craft is seamless. It effects you without showing its hand. Mostly, she is just enjoyable to watch, even in her dramas. There is a lightness to her spirit that elevates the viewer and provides a safe place in the theater, the living room, etc. When she's on screen, one can relax, sit back, and just let whatever brazenness or intensity is about to occur unfold, because what she gives occurs on the screen is delivered and shared through one of the most genuine of performers.

Shirley was (and is) a hard worker who earned her stripes on the stage, where she got her start as a dancer. When she filled in as an understudy for an indisposed Carol Haney in a production of "The Pajama Game," she was recruited by Hal B. Wallis and signed at Paramount, a little twist of fate that would change her life and reward her fierce persistence and devotion to her art. Her first picture was, in fact, with the notorious Alfred Hitchcock in the dark comedy The Trouble with Harry. Hitch was pleased to be working with a film acting novice, as Shirley's adaptability to his very specific directorial touches were unencumbered by the typically jaded experience of most stars. Her charisma was instant, as was her strange blend of innocence and ripe but natural sex appeal. Her reputation only grew as she showed that she was more than a pretty face, adding gravitas to her performances in The Apartment (as the jilted and suicidal lover), Some Came Running (as the "low-class" but adorable martyr), and The Children's Hour (as the deeply conflicted and unaware homosexual whose life is torn asunder by rumor).

Shirley had a gift for tragedy, which she often revealed through her comedy. Her heroines were never simple, one-level ladies. Even her big musical triumph Sweet Charity revealed this as she created a woman from the wrong side of the tracks with a heart of gold. She exposed a deep hurt that was combatted by courage, in this and all of her films. As she matured, so too did her work, and her abilities as a character actress were more fully realized as she entered the 1970s-- Two Mules for Sister Sarah, The Turning Point, Being There, Steel Magnolias, Postcards from the Edge, etc, etc, etc. The result of her compelling work has been a legacy of artistic integrity and resounding industry (and public) respect. The woman is still going strong, committed to telling stories, embracing life, and sharing the beauty of it through her performances.

Yes, I'm a fan. She's the bees knees. (Also has an awesome birthday. Just sayin').

CAST AWAYS: Part XII

Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn during Charade.

If there were two stars who seemed destined to be co-stars-- celebrity soul mates-- it was Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn. No other actors or actresses were as synonymous with "style," nor was anyone a better representative of "class" for their sex. Quickly after Audrey's appearance in Hollywood, studios were already scrambling for a project that would contain the killer combo of Grant and Hepburn, yet it would take awhile before that cinematic dream would come true.

Cary was first offered the role of "Linus Larrabee" in Billy Wilder's Sabrina, but he turned the role down, perhaps because he didn't want to go toe to toe with William Holden, who would be playing the "better looking," younger brother, "David." Instead, the plum part went to Humphrey Bogart. The film probably wouldn't have been as unpredictable had Audrey wandered off into Cary's arms at the end. Everyone would have seen that one coming. Bogie's macho attitude and antipathy toward love actually created the proper amount of surprise and transformation needed to add a little depth to the role. Yet, audiences were still longing for the Cary-Audrey pairing, which is why Cary was next offered the role of "Frank Flannagan" in Love in the Afternoon, again to be directed by Billy Wilder. Nay! He turned it down again! He believed himself too old to play Audrey's romantic leading man. So, this time, Gary Cooper would fill the shoes of Audrey's befuddled, elder romancer, which of course, he did quite nicely. Still, Cary's uncanny business sense was correct. Gary, though still handsome and alluring, was a wee bit too old for the part, which resulted in Billy's strategic, shadowed lighting. Also, I don't know if Coop chose to play this role as chronically drunk, or if he really was, but to me it kind of works. He is a hoot in it, and it is unlike any other role he played. It is also nice to see the girl leading the guy in romantic circles for a change, which is why this is one of my favorite Hepburn roles. (The duo do their famous goodbye/hello at the film's end, left).

Finally, 6 years after the last offer, Cary and Audrey would come together at long last in Charade. Yet, even this gem was almost missed! Cary was still reticent about playing a creepy old man-- ironic, considering that he is the only man in the universe would could pull off that courtship and still seem so very Cary. So, while he kicked the idea around, the film was considered as a vehicle for Warren Beatty and Natalie Wood. Eek. I love both of the latter performers, but the film needed a classic vibe to work, and the fresh faces of Warren and Natalie would've been the wrong ingredients. Paul Newman was also considered for the lead, but his rate was too high. So, Cary came up with a compromise. He would take on the part, if the script were changed so that Audrey would be chasing him, and not the other way around. Agreed! Despite an unfortunate first meeting, in which a humiliated Audrey spilled wine all over Cary's perfectly tailored suit-- no worries, he sent her flowers the next day-- the two got on swimmingly. Thus, we are left with one of the funniest crime-spoof-capers in film history. (Audrey administers some TLC to Cary's Peter Joshua/Carson Dyle/Whatever his name is).

The chemistry between Audrey and Cary was just as wonderful as anyone could have dreamed. Clearly, Cary was kicking himself for not working with Audrey sooner, because as soon as production ended, and he was asked what his next goal was, he answered that he wanted to "make another movie with Audrey Hepburn!" He tried to get her for Father Goose, in fact, but Audrey was more interested in obtaining the lead in My Fair Lady. The role of "Catherine," therefore, went to Audrey's equally stunning pal, Leslie Caron (left). "Grantburn," as we'll call them, was sadly never to work together again, although there was one last chance: Cary was offered the role of "Henry Higgins" in My Fair Lady!!! However, Cary refused the role, saying that it belonged to Rex Harrison, who had brought it to life on stage. So certain was he that Rex deserved the part, that he told George Cukor that he would not even go to see the movie if he cast anyone else! Still, Rock Hudson, Peter O'Toole, and Laurence Olivier were all considered before Rex won that argument! Rock Hudson as Henry Higgins?!?!?! 

Back to Audrey: The Children's Hour remains a fascinating piece of filmmaking. Risque in its day, William Wyler explored themes of homosexuality in ways that few directors had yet been bold enough to attempt. Indeed, he had made the film before in 1936 with Merle Oberon in the role of "Karen," Miriam Hopkins in the role of "Martha," and Joel McCrea as "Joseph," (the role that would later belong to James Garner). Titled These Three, the film was unfortunately subjected to censorship restraints, meaning that all hints of lesbianism were erased from the plot, unceremoniously turning it into the typical, love triangle film. Nonetheless, perhaps hoping to give the former actresses a glorious piece of the later 1961 version, Wyler asked them to take on the roles of "Mrs. Lily Mortar" and "Mrs. Amelia Tilford." Only Miriam agreed  to sign on as Aunt Lily, performing at her usual, hysterical best. (It was perhaps fortuitous that Merle didn't sign on, since she and Audrey would, in time, share the love of their lives in Robert Wolders).

Shirley MacLaine rocks your world!

Audrey almost didn't get a chance to be in The Children's Hour, since one of the original pitches was to have Doris Day and Katharine Hepburn in the two leads. Now, I love me some Doris and Kate, but imagining the film without the deeply tortured and heartbreaking performance of Shirley MacLaine is unthinkable (see left)! Audrey too proved to be the perfect counterpoint to Shirley's highly nervous Martha, giving her own portrayal of Karen a believable blend of cool intelligence and wounded naivete. Both are lost souls in their own way whose lives are torn assunder by an outrageous lie that proves to be half true. A good movie makes you feel, a great one makes you think, a perfect one does both. As with most Audrey films, this one safely falls into the perfect category.