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Showing posts with label George Burns. Show all posts
Showing posts with label George Burns. Show all posts

Sunday, January 26, 2014

THE REEL REALS: Ann-Margret


Ann-Margret Olsson

Ann-Margret: the woman so nice (to look at), they named her twice! The shy Swede turned American redhead was one of the biggest stars in the '60s and remains one of the greatest sex symbols of all time. After transferring to the states, Ann-Margret Olsson started her artistic education by taking dance classes, and by the time she graduated from high school, she decided to drop out of college, leave Illinois behind, and pursue a career as a singer. With an onstage presence that contrasted her true demeanor, her sensuality and sense of fun, when combined with her out of this world beauty, made her stand out from the pack. George Burns was the first to give her a leg up in the showbiz community, adding her to his own holiday show after witnessing her in action.

Ann wanted to be a singer most of all, and her first professional coup was getting a contract with RCA. She would record many albums and even some popular singles, but it would be the camera that loved her best. Small parts in State Fair and Pocketful of Miracles did not prepare the world, nor herself, for the cataclysm of sexual power she would unearth in Bye Bye Birdie. Twenty-two upon the film's release-- a mockery of the effect of Elvis Presley on civilization, and their reaction to his entry into war-- Ann possessed an incredibly mature sexuality and feral aggression that separated her from the other cookie-cutter, apple pie girls on the silver screen. She was a friendly femme fatale. Mixed with her touches of vulnerability and still present innocence-- however valiantly her character "Kim McAfee" tried to ignore her youth-- Ann was immediately likable, desirable, and incomparable. Labeled the female Elvis, it only made sense that she be partnered in a film with him, Viva Las Vegas, which led to a classic, swingin' sixties film, a torrid romance, and a lifelong friendship.

Ann's career had its ups and downs, as she was obviously typecast for her bountiful physical features more than her depth, but any stalls in her career were combatted by her passion and willingness to take chances. Thus, the hottest ticket in Hollywood who turned heads in The Cincinnati Kid, later re-emerged as a complicated leading lady, using the strengths of her sexual allure to reveal the complicated nature underlying a pretty girl's facade, particularly as that beauty faded with age. Her work in the iconic Tommy as well as that in Carnal Knowledge had a shocking effect on a public who still held onto an image of her sex-kitten persona, one that she fearlessly broke down before them. One of her greatest triumphs was appearing opposite the two comic greats Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau in Grumpy Old Men and its sequel, playing the aged but still vibrant object of desire to two weathered oafs lives. 

Throughout her 7 decades on this earth, Ann has maintained her beauty, her vivacity, and her charm. The shade of her hair may be false, but the firecracker of her spirit is one-hundred percent authentic. It still illuminates our world and shakes things up. Viva la femme!

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..."

Thursday, January 5, 2012

CAST AWAYS: Part IX

Is it true that "the song remains the same" if played to a different tune? You decide whether The Way We Were can still outdo What Might Have Been:


Marlene and John Gilbert take on the town.


Marlene Dietrich is remembered in cinematic history as being a stone cold... fox. Yet, off screen, her character was much softer and more maternal than any of her performances could have relayed. She would only play a mother once, in Blonde Venus, despite the fact that "mom" was her favorite role in her personal life. Her natural inclination to nurture soon enough drew her to none other than fallen angel John Gilbert. When Lewis Milestone alerted her over dinner that his neighbor, the handsome Jack, was out of work, melancholy, and just doors away, Marlene-- who strongly adhered to the "no man left behind" mentality-- marched up to his house and announced, "John Gilbert, I have come to save you." The stunned heartthrob made no dispute. In addition to enjoying a romantic affair, Marlene also vowed to kick-start Jack's stalled career by insisting that he be cast opposite her in Knight without Armour. It would have been something to see these two lovers together on screen. Sadly, Jack passed away on Jan. 9, 1936 before production was started, so Greta Garbo maintains the reputation of his greatest screen lover (both on and off). Marlene was devastated at Jack's passing and lit votive candles beneath his picture in memory for several months afterward. Yet, she did not hold it against the debonair Robert Donat when he later took on the role of A.J. Fothergill in Knight. In fact, Marlene turned her mother instincts on him as well. When he became ill, production threatened to have him replaced. Again, Marlene stepped in and insisted that the film be postponed until its leading man was better, or else she too would walk. The brass took the bait, and after the grateful Robert recuperated, Marlene toasted his return.

Robert Donat plays Marlene's Knight without Armour,
 though in life she was the hero.


Despite her brazen, business savvy ways, Marlene too hit some rough patches. In these times, she was resilient enough to take care of herself, but it was always nice when a helping hand was extended in her direction. Such was the case when it came time to cast Destry Rides Again (left). At this time, Marlene was suffering a dip in popularity, having just been labeled as box-office poison alongside soul sisters Katharine Hepburn, Bette Davis, and Joan Crawford. While she still remained adored by fans, love wasn't money, and she needed a great role to re-establish her box-office clout and fill her always dwindling bank account. Luckily, Joe Pasternak had had his eye on her since her silent film and stage days in Germany. He lobbied for her in Destry, despite the fact that the studio wanted Paulette Goddard. Fortune was on Marlene's side, because Paulette turned out to be "unavailable." Marlene got the role, and her "come back" resulted in a box-office sensation-- one of the many films to make 1939 the eternal year of movies. Befittingly, Marlene and Paulette never really got along, especially after Paulette married Marlene's good friend, writer Erich Maria Remarque. Marlene saw him little after the nuptials, but while Paulette may have gotten her pal, Marlene got her career back.

Paulette Goddard could definitely pull off the femme fatale,
but she was no match for Marlene.

George Burns had been acting in movies for over 45 years by the time he was cast in The Sunshine Boys. Co-starring Walter Matthau (together right), this film was a precursor to the aging frenemy films that Walter and Jack Lemmon would make later, such as Grumpy Old Men. In Sunshine, the two heroes are old-- and I do mean old-- show business partners, whose days in vaudeville made them stars in their own time but leave them forgotten in present day. However, an opportunity to earn some bookoo bucks and regain former glory comes when they are offered a performance on a television special. The reunion is an unwelcome one, as the two curmudgeons can't stand each other. Chaos ensues.  The brilliant comic sparring of George and Walter made the film a surprising hit for a world continually described as youth-centric. George with his dry, crotchety delivery, even won an Academy Award for his performance-- a first for a man of 80. This was a very moving moment in his life, particularly since he was not even slated to star in the film originally. In the beginning, his good friend, the much beloved Jack Benny, was to play Al Lewis, but sadly Benny was in poor health and could not accept the project. After making some initial screen tests with Walter, Benny backed out to rest and hopefully recuperate. Always a gentleman, he recommended his friend George for his abandoned role, which George of course accepted. Not long after, Benny passed away. Thus, when George accepted his long-awaited Oscar, he accepted it not only for himself, but on behalf of his dear, departed friend, without whom he never would have embraced the long-awaited statuette.

George Burns and Jack Benny make beautiful music together.


The Thin Man is a perfect example of the little movie that could. Based upon the mystery novel by Dashiell Hammett, it was given a modest budget by MGM and was ranked during production as a simple B-feature. Always up to the challenge, director W.S. Van Dyke was able to churn out the comedy classic in the allotted two weeks, but even more impressive than his economy was his casting palette. The dynamite combo of William Powell and Myrna Loy as the playfully bickering Nick and Nora Charles (left) remains one for the ages. Though the two had performed together before, in Manhattan Melodrama, their chemistry reached true perfection once they started pulling punches amidst the hilarity of murder and marital discord. Their onscreen relationship was amplified by their offscreen friendship, and a mutual trust and affection would bring theaters-goers their first glimpse of a modern marriage: oozing sarcasm, often drunken, and forever in love. The pairing too became a triple threat when dog Skippy was added to the mix as Asta, who would become yet another beloved dog performer in the ranks of Rin Tin Tin and Lassie. But this hysterical family was almost broken up when William became ill with cancer, which took him off the screen for a year and put a wrench in Thin Man sequels. Because MGM didn't want to lose money on wasted time, they considered replacing William in the continuing series with another actor. Both Melvyn Douglas and Reginald Gardner were considered. Luckily, the studio didn't follow through. The magic of Nick and Nora couldn't be duplicated by anyone other than Bill and Myrn'. After William recuperated, he returned to his favorite cinematic wife with their reign through six Thin Man films never interrupted.


Keep your paws off: this trio's built to last.

Some Like It Hot has been hailed by many as the greatest comedy of all time, which is ironic considering that behind the scenes there was nothing but drama. Most of this centered around the forever conflicted and perpetually late Marilyn Monroe (right), but even Billy Wilder admitted that all the pain was worth it when he saw the rushes. The great comic teaming of handsome cad Tony Curtis and the devilishly absurd Jack Lemmon perfected the onscreen chemistry, and smaller character roles were filled out synchronously by George Raft and Joe E. Brown. It turned out to be a motley match made in Heaven. Who could imagine a better outcome? It is fortunate for continuing audience members that Billy Wilder did not go with his original casting idea for Joe/Josephine and Jerry/Daphne: Danny Kaye and Bob Hope. Some like it not. While definitely superb in the funny department, this duo would not have delivered the same edge nor the necessary sexuality that made the film such a hit. The more youthful albeit worldly interpretations of Tony and Jack definitely turned up the heat in the script. Billy soon latched onto Jack Lemmon after seeing some of the upcoming actor's work, and after Tony campaigned for the role of Joe and proved his acting ability in Sweet Smell of Success, he too was put in heels. Yet, even then, the pairing was in jeopardy. Billy knew he needed a star to bring in an audience, so when Frank Sinatra considered edging in on the role of Jerry/Daphne, the production was put on hold. Thankfully, the macho Sinatra decided that his image wouldn't survive a picture in which he dressed in drag, and the role was gladly handed back to Jack. As for the role of Sugar Kane, originally Mitzi Gaynor was slated to be the one "runnin' wild" with her ukulele, but having "Marilyn Monroe" on the marquee was a better guarantee for revenue. Marilyn had her reservations about playing another dumb blonde, but despite their experience together on The Seven Year Itch, Billy talked her into it. One of Hollywood's finest directors, he was able to maintain control of his haywire film, even with the infamous Black Bart (Paula Strasberg) lurking around set, though handling Marilyn the woman was a chore no one could accomplish. Nonetheless, the film was a sensation, and Marilyn won the Golden Globe for her endearing performance. Thank movie Heaven!

As fate would have it: apparently Sinatra had the pipes,
but lacked the stems. Tony and Jack rocked stilettos
 and made it work.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

BITS OF COINCIDENCE: Part Six


Rita Hayworth helps her boyfriend-- and future husband-- Orson Welles
with one of his Magic Shows.


One of many descriptive words applied to Orson Welles is "magician." As he played the role of a sort of intellectual trickster figure in Hollywood, creating hypnotic illusions and entrancing audiences, the title seems to fit. However, Orson had a fascination for magic that was literal as well as figurative. Captivating a live audience, keeping them enthralled, and shocking them to resulting ecstatic applause was a way of marrying both the ambitious man and his idealistic and playful youth. It was one of few ways that the overgrown boy allowed himself to indulge in his more childish nature, so often hidden. This is because the curiosity he held for the art started in his boyhood, and was one of few things that he and his father shared-- that and alcohol. Richard Welles enjoyed a good magic show, and while his son perfected his own tricks, he decided to give him a special treat: he took him to see the great Harry Houdini! When going back stage, Orson was probably as close as he would ever be to starstruck. Of course, his already scintillating ambition won the day, and he performed a handkerchief trick for Houdini, who watched appreciatively. Afterward, Harry praised the young chap but told him to keep practising and practising until the gag was perfect, even if it took a thousand times. Orson did. When he returned at a later date to show Houdini his improvement, he was surprised to see another magician teaching the master a new trick. This disappointed the peeping boy, who realised that maybe Houdini was, after all, just a man applying a craft like everyone else and not as Godlike as he had assumed. While this crushed Orson's little, innocent heart, it also taught him a great lesson-- never let them see what's up your sleeve; maintaining the illusion is the real power. This tactic was heartily applied. Later, Orson prepared a very elaborate magic show, which he performed for the servicemen during WWII. He used his current girlfriend, Rita Hayworth, as his assistant during the show, through the length of which he made several costume changes. After Columbia Pictures'  Harry Cohn objected to Rita's involvement in the show, much to her chagrin, she had to bow out, and Marlene Dietrich stepped in on her behalf. (Previously, Orson had also done a performance where he sawed ex-girlfriend Dolores Del Rio in half).

 

Marlene fills in for Rita Hayworth as Orson's assistant. Marlene was also
an avid wartime entertainer and was always happy to do her part.


When Lon Chaney was a young theatrical performer trying to eek out a living in vaudeville (left circa 1905), he traveled around a great deal. As was typical in those days, actors would join up with a troupe only to find themselves abandoned in a strange city when the financing went kaput and left them penniless. Dusting yourself off and starting over became second nature to him early on, and for an ambitious youth with unquenchable passion and itchy feet, the trials were worth it. At the very least, he got to travel around the country-- sometimes on trains that were moving so slowly that one could hop off and take a brief stroll before hopping back aboard. He too got to meet some interesting and talented people. In 1910, he and his first wife, Frances "Cleva" Creighton were living in Los Angeles, and Lon got a gig working with the Ferris Hartman Company at the Grand Opera House on Main Street. He was in gifted company, including a chubby young singer and comedian with light feet and a kind heart. Then, people called him Roscoe Arbuckle, but later he would be known as "Fatty." Lon also rubbed shoulders with Robert Z. Leonard, who would later become a film director and re-team with Lon in Hollywood for Danger-- Go Slow. Most importantly, Lon met the woman who would become his second wife, Hazel Hastings, though at the time, the married man took little notice of her. She and the other chorus girls helped out in babysitting his young son: Creighton Chaney, later known as Lon Chaney, Jr. Cleva had little time, since she was performing herself as a singer and equally was descending into alcoholism. Hazel would recall Lon's early ambitions toward comedy and his natural penchant for making people laugh, as well as his talents as a song and dance man. However, his later career in Hollywood would become the exact opposite. Odd how time (and a damaging divorce) can change things...


Former vaudeville star Fatty Arbuckle teams up as a movie star 
with Charlie Chaplin in The Rounders.


Greenwich Village in the the roaring twenties was the place to be. A spiritually and intellectually liberated city, it became a quite the den for artists, youth, creativity, and expression in the 1920s... with a little debauchery, of course. One thing that made it so enticing was its openness to sexuality, and it was one of few places where homosexual couples could walk around openly and without fear of persecution. It was here that future film star William Haines (right) would find himself at home and also meet two lifelong friends: Mitchell Foster and Larry Sullivan. At the time, the couple did much to polish Billy into a more stylish and cultured young man. Later, after Billy made it big, they would help him in his antique business and interior design company as well. While enjoying the nightlife, including seeing female impersonator Jean Malin at Paul and Joe's or Charles Spangles put on his "Josephine and Joseph" routine, Bill would make some other acquaintances. All types of artists migrated to the bustling Village, and it was here that he would meet comedians George Burns and Jack Benny for the first time, both of whom he would call friends for the remainder of his life. He too would meet a young painter, Jack Kelly, who would later become the famous designer Orry Kelly, and a young vaudevillian, Archibald Leach, who would later become Cary Grant. It is also believed that it was here in the village that Billy first met director George Cukor. George was already working in showbiz-- as a doorman at the Criterion Theater. They too would re-team in Hollywood, where Billy would help George inch his way into cinema and too decorate his lush pleasure palace. 

 

Archie Leach aka Cary Grant. The young cockney is already looking
polished here, but he had a way to go before he reached "suave."




Groucho Marx had a great love for the ladies (left with his favorite mark, Margaret Dumont). An intelligent man, he enjoyed the company of equally interesting and funny women, whom he admired. He would remark in later life that he always made the grievous mistake of marrying for beauty over intelligence. At least in his friendships, he was rich in sharp and sassy female companionship. One such gem he enjoyed was Gracie Allen. Their attraction was never physical, but Groucho respected the "Irish tap dancer" and her great humor. One night, he and his gal pal were dining in Schenectady when he spotted another friend across the room. With that, George Burns came over and said "Hello," and Groucho introduced him to Gracie. Groucho would later say that, then and there, George fell in love. George had seen Gracie before, of course, for in the small entertainment world everyone gets to know each other professionally if not personally, but the two had never officially met. Groucho took pride in the fact that it was he who finally brought the two together. Maybe they would have met without him, maybe not, but certainly Groucho held the debt over George's head for the rest of his life. For his part, George was eternally grateful. He would later say that the real talent in the George and Gracie act was all in the latter part. He was nothing without her. Together, they were comic dynamite.

 

The recipe for a successful marriage: love and laughter-
George Burns and Gracie Allen. Take note, Groucho.




Howard Hughes (right) had many relationships with and engagements to beautiful starlets over the years. An awkwardly handsome and eccentric man, he was as alluring as he was confusing. But then, maybe it was all the dough... He once gave the same sapphire ring he had given to Ginger Rogers to Ava Gardner after an exasperated Ginge' gave him the heave-ho. He too was deeply involved with Kathryn GraysonKatharine Hepburn, etc etc etc. As always, the great innovator saw potential in many things- cinema, air travel, and women. He too saw a goldmine in Norma Jeane Baker, though whether this was of the purely professional or sexual nature we'll never know, (though based on his track record it is easy to guess). While Howard was recuperating from his infamous Beverly Hills plane crash, he saw a picture of Norma Jeane in a bathing suit on the cover of Laff Magazine (below, summer of 1946). Apparently, the picture helped his recovery. He sent his associates on a manhunt to find out who she was and put her under contract at his studio. Her agent at the time, Bunny Ainsworth, caught word of his interest and used the information to advantage-- not to forge a love connection but to help Norma's career. Bunny planted a story with Hedda Hopper that Howard was seeking Norma out and used this as leverage to score her a contract with 20th-Century Fox. "Howard Hughes wants her, so you'd better act fast!" The ploy worked. Soon enough, the beautiful girl was making the screen test that gave cinematographer Leon Shamroy the chills-- both in excitement and in a fearful premonition. Thanks to Howard, Darryl F. Zanuck scooped the ingenue up and put her on her way to becoming Marilyn Monroe.


Marilyn Monroe was still going by her married name, Norma Jean Dougherty
when she did this shoot. It, and her hair color, would soon change.