NOW, THAT'S FUNNY: Part XII

Plenty of Chaps' to go around...

By 1917, five years after Charlie Chaplin had come to Los Angeles, not only had he become a full-on movie star, but he was a bona fide phenomenon. His movies were consistently successful and eagerly awaited by his incalculable number of fans. His face was quickly becoming the most recognizable one in America. It wasn't long before his image was finding its way into people's homes, as children bought dolls in his likeness and adults began dressing as him for Halloween parties (or just for fun). To Charlie, his fame was always a bit bewildering. He had gone from being a nobody to being the guy with the most familiar face in the world... Or so he thought. With all of the adulation out there, there was bound to be a community of Charlie wannabes. A series of comedians began appearing on the screen in very similar if not completely copied costumes, and hack Charlie Chaplin impersonators started coming out of the woodwork. Charlie didn't seem to mind too much. After all, imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. However, he realized that life had truly become bizarre when he read that a man in Cincinnati had performed a hold-up using a Chaplin costume as a disguise! The final insult came when Charlie decided to enter one of the many Chaplin look-alike contests himself, just for a laugh. Competing against boys of all shapes and sizes (with far fewer years of performance experience), one would think Charlie was a shoe-in for victory. Hilariously enough, he didn't win. He loved telling that story!

Boris Karloff portrayed another cinematic character nearly as historically relevant as Chaplin's "Little Tramp": Frankenstein's Monster. It is strange to think that by artistically bringing to life a creature that was scientifically brought back to life, Boris obtained his own immortality. His depiction of the awkward mash of arms and limbs was haunting, disturbing, frightening, and a little bit sad. Perhaps that is why the Monster remains in the American heart, despite his murderous penchants. But this was but one of many characters that Boris portrayed, which were generally villains, creatures, or good men gone bad in Universal's long line of B-horror films. In his personal life, Boris was far from his movie archetype, being generous, gentlemanly, and most importantly, harmless. He also had a great sense of humor, which some of his co-workers took advantage of. In The Invisible Ray, Boris's character "Dr. Rakh" and Bela Lugosi (left) come to blows over Rakh's latest discovery: Radium X. While filming one particular scene,  Boris was wearing an incredibly hot "radiation" suit as his character is lowered into a smoking pit to hopefully gather some of this strange radium specimen. The crew decided to play a prank. They lowered the sweating Boris down, then when the clock struck noon, they broke for lunch. Boris was literally left hanging! Luckily, his temper was not as easily provoked as his character's. He just started chuckling. Luckily, his co-workers came to retrieve him so he could grab some grub as well.

John Carradine (right) also took part in a few Universal monster flicks, including The Mummy's Ghost and House of Frankenstein. With his thin frame, sunken cheeks, and natural intensity, he could easily step into villainous roles. His acclaimed acting chops had earned him quite the rep on the stage, but his talents on the screen are best remembered in supporting roles, such as the conniving "Hatfield" in Stagecoach or the loyal "Rizzio" in Mary of Scotland. He remains one of many unsung and intriguing fellows in artistic history whose genius to his craft was just as maniacal as his personal demons. He notoriously caused more than one stir with drinking buddies like John Barrymore and W.C. Fields, a group of pals infamous for imbibing their talents and eventually their lives away. The facts are sad in retrospect, yet the brotherhood and prankster shenanigans somehow still make one smile even while shaking the head in "for shame" fashion when pondering the lives of these hard-living fellows. For example, John was particularly lubricated one evening and after giving a cab-driver the wrong address, he wound up spouting orations of Shakespearean verse at Steve Hayes's doorstep. For the record, the two didn't know each other, and John literally had no idea where he was. Steve's pals weren't as accustomed as he (the owner of the popular eatery Googies) to the sudden appearance of a movie star, so they gushingly asked the sloshed actor to join them inside, which he did... after telling them that he was "King Lear." He kept asking for liquor, but after being handed tea instead, decided to show his disdain by urinating off the balcony. John, one doubts, remembered this visit the next day, but his surprised hosts never forgot it.

Marlon Brando (left) is one of those singular guys that is just awesome. He could behave like a punk, skunk, or scalawag, he could be as eccentric as the day was long, but his confidence and diabolical mystery still rendered even his most sinister on and off-screen moments just plain cool. This naturally translated to his sex life, where he pretty much had whomever he wanted. A pop cultural icon who defied pop culture, his dangerous nature worked like a tonic on the ladies. However, he didn't always get his way, despite his strong personality and masterful methods of coercion, charm, and perhaps even hypnosis. Tony Curtis would recall a time when he was roommates with Marlon on Barham Boulevard. The two buddied up while trying to build their acting careers, and naturally, as members of young Hollywood, ran in the same circles. One night, the duo were out at a bar in Palm Springs, when they both took notice of a very attractive girl. As neither fellow had hit it big yet, it is doubtful that she had any idea who they were, but she was definitely attracted to the handsome pair. However, after she boldly approached, she made her choice known. Marlon tried to put the moves on the girl, but she clearly only had eyes for Tony-- who possessed in prettiness what Marlon had in 'tude. Tony didn't know it, but this was a monumental moment in Marlon history. Some time later, Tony went to a party at which Marlon was also in attendance. When Tony walked in, Marlon held up his hand to silence the room and jokingly declared:"There's the only guy who ever took a girl away from me." Clearly, sexual refusal was something Marlon did not encounter often, but at least he took the punch standing up.

Robert Altman, in his 45 years in cinema, carved out quite a niche for himself. He only really produced one major box-office hit, but his work remains intriguing and critically acclaimed for his unique multi-layered style, overlapping storylines, and birds eye view of humanity. If the average director allows you to follow characters through a story, Altman challenges audiences to follow a story through its characters. The effect is disconcerting, yet somehow more real than the more streamlined, conveyor-belt fashion of the majority of products out there. He doesn't extol star power; he translates human beings. The verdict with the public is very divided. You can either take him or leave him. What makes his place in film even more fascinating than his controversial body of work is his graduation into the position of filmmaker. There very nearly wasn't a place for this quirky, definitive character. According to former publicity guru Michael Selsman, Robert Altman got his breakthrough gig directing MASH (cast right) by accident. Michael was in discussions with Darryl F. Zanuck when the mogul was on the hunt for a director to take the helm of this new wartime vehicle. Michael, of course, suggested some of his clients, but Zanuck seemed stuck on The Dirty Dozen's Robert Aldrich. Unfortunately for Aldrich, Zanuck's casting director, Owen McLean, was a heavy drinker and drunkenly transmogrified "Aldrich" into "Altman" when taking the note to make the offer. Thus, the pitch was made to the wrong guy, and unknown TV director Robert Altman got the chance of a lifetime! Everyone may not be a fan, but clearly the Gods of celluloid wanted this guy cemented in artistic history. Crazy, huh?
 

Speaking of controversy, Kirk Douglas's latest literary contribution I Am Spartacus: Making a Film, Breaking the Blacklist is all about it. A fascinating depiction, not only of how difficult it is to make a movie-- let alone an iconic one-- but of mankind's slow undoing of a period of political prejudice in Hollywood, Kirk tells all about his voyage in bringing to film the story of the notorious Thracian slave who tried to take down Rome. The film in many ways is spectacular and holds up incredibly well over time. Somehow, God willing, all the pieces of the puzzle came together-- from the casting, to landing Stanley Kurbick as director, to the financing-- and the masterpiece was made. However, upon its original release, not all of the footage was there that is available today. One very contentious scene between Laurence Olivier's "Cassius" and Tony Curtis's "Antoninus" was originally eliminated for its overt homo-erotic themes. You know the one: Antoninus is bathing Cassius in the giant tub and is asked by his master whether he likes "snails" or "oysters" (left). The snails insinuate a sexual taste for men, and oysters for women. Unfortunately for the bi-sexual Cassius, Antoninus only swings one way. The censors were obviously not having it at the time, and initially asked that Kirk and his team tone down the innuendo making "snails and oysters" "artichokes and truffles" instead. Say again? Kirk refused, after he stopped laughing of course, but this left the scene on the cutting room floor. Later, when the film was re-cut for re-release with the missing footage, the dialogue for the scene had been lost. Thus, Tony had to perform his voiceover once again, which he gladly did, but Larry was unfortuantely already deceased. His wife, Joan Plowright, suggested that Anthony Hopkins step in and perform the dialogue for him, which he admirably did. Watching today, you would never know!

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.

MENTAL MONTAGE: Toupee of the Day to ya'!

Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis both donned fancy wigs

 in Some Like It Hot but to calculated, comic effect.

In Hollywood, youth is everything. This goes beyond the need of an artist to stay young and attractive. It has even more to do with maintaining one's image so as not to disappoint the public. Change is death-- at least that is what so many celebrities have been led to believe. For every movie star at his peak, there are hundreds, perhaps even thousands, waiting to take his place. To maintain their relationships with their fans, many celebs resort to plastic surgery, sadistic diets, and outrageous workout routines. The refusal to age becomes a bit of an obsession to some: such as Joan Crawford, who was so desperate to maintain her own illusion of youth that she created for herself a somewhat crazed looking mask of makeup, which included exaggerated eyebrows and ghastly lips. Women are most often pegged as paying overt attention to their appearance, but the guys are also suckered by Hollywood's ageism. While women pile on cosmetics and slip into their spanks, men tighten their girdles... and commission new hairpieces. Here are a few examples of male vanity rearing its ugly head and covering its baldness with a bald-faced lie: the toupee.

John Wayne (left) wasn't a self-absorbed or superficial man, but he knew how much his image meant. Therefore, he was willing to obey the rules by muting the true effects of his age as he matured before the screen. For one, he always went on a strict workout regime before each film so he could shave off a few pounds-- though known as the typical man's man, he was never too pressured to hide his paunch in the later years. One stipulation he could not avoid was camouflaging his thinning hair. After several years in the business, the thick head of curls that earned "oohs" and "ahhs" during The Big Trail started disappearing, but the studio saw to it that his handsome face remain bedecked with a full head of artificial hair. There was at least one instance on set when his hairpiece actually caught on fire during an action sequence! Duke always laughed it off, finding the whole thing absurd, and he didn't continue the facade at home, as his friends Walter Reed and Budd Boetticher would recall. One day, Water and Budd were visiting Duke at his house in Encino. When they left, the rain was pouring, and their car got stuck in the mud. A few police officers happened upon them and asked what they were doing. They replied, of course, that they had been visiting John and had gotten stuck on their way home. One particular cop didn't believe them, thinking that a star as big as the Duke would live in a much fancier part of town. So, to prove themselves, Budd and Walter took the officer up to the house. Duke answered the door, sans toupee, and the fellas explained the debate to him. He then drawled, "Well, I'm Duke." The cop replied, "You don't look like John Wayne." John followed up with the deadpan, "What the Hell do you want me to do? Go in and put my hairpiece on?" The group burst into laughter. Now starstruck, the cop and his fellow officers asked for autographs, which Duke whole-heartedly gave.

The string bean of swing, Fred Astaire (right), also had a toupee of his own, but he was much more insecure about it than Duke. Short and frail of build, Fred was never totally confident in his appearance, despite the fact that his fans found him adorable. He mostly hated his hands, which he considered too large, and he concocted special postures and ways of holding his fingers together to make them appear smaller. He too suffered from the curse of male age when he started losing his hair. Frequent partner Ginger Rogers would get to see first-hand the dark side of Fred's usually light mood when he was caught bare-headed. They were filming the last production day on Top Hat when director Mark Sandrich suddenly decided he wanted to add a final dance sequence-- ya' know, to put a fun period on the film. Since the dancing duo always liked to rehearse everything, this last minute decision cramped their style. Ginger was more inclined to just go with it, but Fred-- who was a professional and perfectionist-- was greatly put out and concerned about the improvisation. Nonetheless, Ginger coaxed him to just go ahead: she'd "follow his lead." So, the partners sauntered down the stairs of the set, adding dance steps as they descended. All seemed well until Fred's hat fell off. To Ginger's shock, Fred turned bright red and started howling, "No, no, no!" He then stormed over to a wall and kicked it with one of his famous feet, not once, but five times. Ginger and Mark later discovered the source of his ire: because he was wearing a hat in the scene and had not intended to show his head, he had not put on his toupee. The threat of his thinning head being on display was apparently more than he could handle. Eventually, Fred cooled down, and the scene came together with the audience none the wiser as to what was (or rather wasn't) hiding beneath that infamous Top Hat.

After Bing Crosby (left) passed through a half century of life, he began to panic. Fifty-years-old is too old for Tinsel Town, and as younger men arrived in Hollywood every day, the aging crooner felt his time in the spotlight coming to an end. His personal life was in shambles too. By 1954, he had lost his long-suffering wife Dixie, and his long-term love affair with alcohol was going full throttle. Feeling himself seep into a crack from which he may never be able to crawl, he knew he needed a big hit to get him back on track. While his voice remained in top form, he could not deny that he was getting older and that maybe his film characters should start aging with him. He had relied on his charm and voice to carry him through his other films, but if he was going to stay on top, he needed to act like a real actor. Enter George Seaton and his film adaptation of The Country Girl. Teaming up with William Holden-- another aging but still handsome leading man-- and Grace Kelly-- whom Bing originally opposed in favor of Jennifer Jones-- Bing got ready to tackle one of the most difficult and memorable performances of his career. The role hit close to home. For a former playboy to play a washed up, alcoholic, faithless has-been was... uncomfortable.  And though Bing trusted that the role could showcase his range, he feared that audiences would associate him with his character and that he would lose his prestige in the industry as a swoon-inducing Lothario. When filming began, it was clear to all that he had lost his swagger. He arrived two hours late the first day and was later found fretting and sulking in his dressing room. Most shockingly, he was wearing his favorite 20-year-old hairpiece, which made Seaton cringe. Bing refused to give up his ratty, old toupee, believing that it shaved decades off his appearance. As the director pressured him to get to set, Bing nearly broke into tears: he couldn't perform without his lucky hair! Finally, Seaton saw that the wig was more to Bing than a head of hair-- it was a physical symbol of his insecurity. Finally, Seaton got to his actor, saying that he understood how frightening this whole experience must be. He finished with, "Let's be frightened together." Bing perked up, left his dead hair behind, and churned out an Academy Award nominated performance.

Sextette is a best forgotten film. It remains notorious simply for its leading lady, Mae West, who was just as lustful and vibrant at 85 as she had been at 25. Mae was still her usual, sensual, optimistic self, and she felt as healthy as ever, but she could not deny that her film career seemed to be coming to an end. She was long past her hey-days of the '30s when She Done Him Wrong made her a superstar. She remained a very public figure, continuously discussed and lampooned, and age never cramped her style as she continued to be one of the hardest working women in showbiz-- though Vegas shows had become the order of the day over feature films. She always preferred the stage anyway, so it was a welcome change. It seemed time to bid farewell to the silver screen and to do so in grand fashion. This extended not just to her extravagant wardrobe, but to the film's casting. Boasting a plethora of attractive and unexpected supporting characters-- including Timothy Dalton, Tony Curtis, Ringo Starr, Alice Cooper, George Hamilton, and Keith Moon-- the greatest casting coup of all was winning old flame George Raft's participation. It was actually a "thank you," for George had given Mae her first screen credit in his film Night After Night. However, George was not too inclined to accept Mae's heartfelt favor. He was old, and unlike Mae, tired and ill. But, she coaxed him into it. Eager for the reunion, Mae was aghast when she spied George's toupee in his dressing room before filming began. "What's this?" she asked Marvin Paige, the casting director. When he revealed that it was George's hairpiece, Mae became distraught. "No, no, no," she insisted. She preferred him in the slicked-back style of their youths. "I like him greasy," she insisted. One problem: George had little hair left to grease. This left the production in a dilemma. George hated wearing a hairpiece in the first place, so losing it was no problem, but slicking back non-existent hair was also out. Finally, a solution was found-- he would wear a hat for his scenes. No hair, no worry. The film, sadly, was far from a hit, but it did form a perfect circle in the film careers of George and Mae. It turned out to be the last film either of them ever made. Both passed away in November of 1980 with Mae surprisingly beating George to the punch by two days. Always with gentlemen, "ladies first." (The two in younger days, right).

Halloween Spooktacular

Ava Gardner stars in: Halloween 2010!

In preparation for every actor's favorite holiday, I give you a presentation in Spook-e-Vision! As all of Hollywood is haunted by the macabre tragedies of its past, and as every glittering star seeks to hide a hideous face he or she wants no one to see, Halloween seems the most fitting celebrity celebration. Accepted truths are hidden behind ghoulish masks, the dark corners of life we normally deny are openly indulged in, and all the world salivates over disturbing and heart-pounding stories of violence and terror just for kicks-- to feel alive while indulging in death. This ain't no Christmas. Therefore, amidst the rest of the black-hearted mayhem, let us summon a few more spirits from the ugly bowels of Movieland's history and bring forth the ghosts of Tinsel Town's gruesome past. (Mwah ha ha ha)! The theme of this group of tales is the curse of foresight. The supernatural, the uncanny, but mostly the unfortunate will greet you in what follows. Say your prayers for the lost souls.

"...my mind misgives
Some consequence yet hanging in the stars
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
With this night's revels and expire the term
Of a despised life closed in my breast
By some vile forfeit of untimely death."  

-- "Romeo & Juliet," Shakespeare

~  ~  ~

Choosing the most horrific of all La La Land's tragedies is no easy task; there is too much blood, drugs, deception, and death to sift through. However, the disturbing tale of a vulnerable beauty sacrificed by a gang of deluded psychopaths under the tutelage of (nearly) the Devil himself remains perhaps the most haunting. I refer, of course, to the sad end of Sharon Tate. Charles Manson's distorted God complex induced a killing spree via his family of lemmings in 1969. All of the victims were innocents, but the best remembered is Sharon, due to her growing celebrity, her marriage to director Roman Polanski, and the fact that she was pregnant (left). Murder was never darker. There can be no experience more petrifying than to watch your own life being violently wrenched away in the most obscene of fashions. Sharon endured even worse than this, for she saw it all coming...

A few years earlier in 1966, Sharon was staying with her friend, Jay Sebring, when she had a bone-chilling experience. The house Jay lived in was at 9820 Easton Drive and used to belong to Paul Bern and Jean Harlow (both at home, right). It was the house in which Paul supposedly committed suicide, though speculations and theories have continued to grow over the years. The more the evidence is put together, the more it looks like Paul's death in 1932 was the result of foul play, which was hastily covered up to protect his association with MGM and one of its biggest stars. It was rumored that Paul Bern was tormented by his inability to satisfy his sex-pot wife, due to his underdeveloped genitalia. The public chose to believe this extreme story and overlook evidence, which pointed in the direction of a jealous former lover of Paul's-- his common law wife, Dorothy Millette. Whatever the case, Jean was heartbroken at losing the only man who ever loved her for who she truly was. She quickly moved out of the house, unable to inhabit the same building where Paul's crumpled, bloody body was found on her bedroom floor (below). Paul, it is rumored, never left.

More than one have seen Paul's lonely ghost roaming the various rooms of his old home. During Sharon's stay there, she would come face to face with him. Lying in bed one night, all alone in the house, she woke to see Paul's dark, transparent figure looming over her. She was terrified! She ran from the room and down the stairs to the first floor. As if that shock wasn't enough, Sharon then had a premonition: she saw herself tied up at the foot of the staircase, covered in blood, with her throat slashed open. Then as quickly as the phenomenon occurred, it was over. Sharon was shaken. She stumbled upon a hidden bar in the wall, which she previously had no knowledge of but was naturally led to, and had a nice, stiff drink. She told Jay about her experience the next day, and he calmed her down, but the images she had seen continued to plague her. Three years later, in her house on Cielo Drive, which was just down the way on Benedict Canyon from the Bern home, Sharon would lose her life when some unexpected visitors came calling. Ironically, Jay was visiting her at the time and was another victim. Had Paul been trying to warn her? Did the curse of Easton Drive rub off on both Sharon and Jay, who had died trying to protect her? Even Roman caught a hint of the tragedy to come when he said goodbye to Sharon for the last time (before he left for a shoot). Feeling her pregnant belly pressed against his own, a great weight of danger fell on his shoulders. He shrugged it off, but her sad fate was not to be denied. It would be written in blood.

Sharon at the Easton Drive house in 1966.

~  ~  ~

Sharon was not the only actress to have a premonition of danger. Kathryn Grayson (left) was a beautiful and talented singer and movie star when Howard Hughes set his sights on her. He had collected many beautiful women into his stable, and very few women were able to say "no" to the man who seemed to have it all, not to mention the power and money to give them anything they wanted. Kathryn would become one of many to be engaged to Howard. Despite his oddities and quirks, he was a good guy underneath it all. She wanted to believe that they could truly be happy together... Something inside her told her otherwise.

The date was set, and Kathryn was preparing for her long walk down the aisle. But before she could say, "I do," she panicked. She couldn't do this. Something was wrong... A warning light kept flashing in her mind. She couldn't shake her ill feelings, so she called it quits with Howard. He was not happy, and Kathryn at first chalked her misgivings up to cold feet. It all turned out for the best, since marriage to Howard Hughes would not be what any woman could refer to as a happy ending, but it turns out that Kathryn's third eye saw something coming beyond a shoddy union. At the very hour that her marriage was to have taken place, her nephew would have a fatal accident. After learning this, Kathryn realized the true source of her premonition of doom... But she never reignited her relationship with Howard.

~  ~  ~

James Dean prepping for a race.

The celebrity intuition continues.... The slogan "Live fast; die young" was coined for James Dean, the poster boy for discontented adolescence. In his film work, Dean was always clawing his way through existence, searching for some deeper meaning or some greater truth than his parents or peers could offer. Rebellion was the name of the game, and the unhappy sorrow that naturally accompanies the unfulfilled revolutionary was his cross to bear. Off screen, his true life was not much different. Jimmy always carried that tragic air about him, which drew women (and men) to him like moths to a flame. The pain behind his eyes, the uncertainty, made him even more desirable: the typical boy everyone wanted to save because he couldn't save himself. The particulars of his life, the pains he suffered, sent him into an almost reluctant spiral of self-destruction. He showed his contempt for society and himself by tempting fate, usually behind the wheel of a car or in the seat of a motorcycle. Just how fast did one have to go until he could outrun his demons? He was determined to find out.

Dean loved racing and loved going fast. He got a kick out of the adrenaline-- the feeling of being in and out of control at once. Friends used to enjoy watching him pick the gravel out of his tousled main from his latest race. His proximity to danger only served to make him more exciting. However, not everyone was jazzed about his lifestyle. When he met Alec Guinness on September 23, 1955 outside of a restaurant, Jimmy showed him his brand new Porsche 550 Spyder, which he had dubbed "Little Bastard" (right). Alec took one look at it and said, "If you get in that car, you will be found dead in it by this time next week!" A good actor's instincts are apparently never wrong, in front of the camera or not. In seven more days, on Sept. 30, James Dean would be killed when another car coming from the opposite direction came into his lane on US Route 46. He had been on his way to a race in Salinas. The other driver, Daniel Turnupseed (turn-up-speed?), was speeding and unable to see Jimmy's nearly translucent, silver car in the cascading sun of the desert. Ironically, it would be the one time Jimmy wasn't speeding. Jimmy's friend and mechanic Rolf Wutherich, was in the car with him during the accident, but was thrown clear and survived. Rolf said Jimmy's last words before impact were, "That guy's gotta stop... He'll see us."

Little Bastard in the aftermath.

~  ~  ~

When Tony Curtis was filming The Defiant Ones, he worked with actor Carl Switzer (left) who had obtained fame as a child as Alfalfa in the Our Gang/Little Rascals series. Tony enjoyed getting to know the legendary performer and found him to be an interesting guy. They often played poker between scenes and Tony loved to hear all of Carl's stories about his adventures as a child actor. The light-hearted little boy had developed into a troubled adult. Carl's career had expectedly declined as he aged, so having his participation on the project was a positive on both sides. In the movie, Carl had a small part as a hunter who helps to track down Tony and his fellow escapee Sidney Poitier. His character had little to do, other than get into an argument with the police sergeant over his hunting dog. After the film wrapped, Tony said his goodbye to the cast and crew-- Carl included-- put the pleasant experience in his pocket, and set about looking for his next gig. He would soon hear that Carl had been shot to death-- he had barged in on a friend in a drunken rage. His friend must not have taken too kindly to the late night invasion, and after a lengthy, brutal fight, he aimed, fired, and took Carl's life. Strangely, the entire argument revolved around... a hunting dog. There's life imitating art and then there's just the inexplicably eerie. Carl was but 31-years-old.

Alfalfa, in better days...

~  ~  ~

Carole: "flighty" in more ways than one...

Carole Lombard may have had her dizzy head in the clouds, but she also had her feet on the ground. She was a worldly dame and a realistic one. Her mother, on the other hand, was much more spiritually curious-- she was fascinated in numerology and incredibly superstitious. For this reason, "Bessie" begged her daughter not to take the flight home after a bond rally for WWII. Carole was in a hurry to get back to her hubby, Clark Gable, whom she heard was getting a little too cozy on the set of Somewhere I'll Find You with Lana Turner, but Bessie tried to persuade her to take a more lengthy train ride instead. The number three was an important one in Bessie's life, as she considered it unlucky, and her heart filled with foreboding as they prepared to take off. Threes were popping up everywhere. There were three in their party-- Carole, Otto Winkler, and herself-- they were taking TWA Flight 3, and there were 3 members on crew (along with 19 passengers). Carole too was 33 years old. The stubborn screwball refused to hear of such nonsense. She was exhausted after a long fundraising tour, and she just wanted to go home. Enough is enough, she decided! She would flip a coin, that way they could stop arguing and the decision would be fair. Carole tossed and won... and lost. The plane Bessie was desperately trying to keep them out of would crash into Mount Potosi in Nevada on January 16, 1942, 23 minutes after taking off. (All good girls should listen to their mothers). Carole's last film, To Be Or Not to Be, was in post-production when she died. Director Ernst Lubitsch immediately cut out a scene in which Carole was to say, "What can happen on a plane?"

~  ~  ~

Long reign the screwball Queen!

And so sweet friends, be careful this weekend while the ghosts are out, protect your children and loved ones, and trust your guts. There is no more loyal and trustworthy companion than one's own instinct. I hope it serves you well. Happy Halloween!!!

CAST AWAYS: Part Five

The go-getter in Tony Curtis was always looking for the next project. When he heard about a film being produced by a particular director with whom he wanted to work, or when he was very intrigued by a particular character, he had no qualms about contacting whoever was involved to add his name to the list of "Maybes." Even after he had established himself as a bankable star, he wasn't guaranteed every part he wanted. He still had to schmooze, ingratiate himself with the right people, and work to stay on top. From time to time, his efforts would be in vain. For example, when Tony heard that Blake Edwards was going to be shooting Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961), he thought he would be perfect for the male lead. The fact that he was good friends with Blake also made him assume that he would have a little extra pull in the casting office. However, things didn't pan out, and the role went instead to George Peppard (above with Audrey on the set). Makes ya wonder... Tony was fine with the rebuff-- it was the business after all-- but he would remark that Blake spoke to him less frequently after this unfortunate exchange, as if embarrassed that he had let his friend down. Tony recalled a palpable awkwardness on the later set of their collaboration, The Great Race.

Interestingly, this wasn't the only Audrey Hepburn picture that Tony hoped to star in. He would also push for the role of Audrey's cross-country love interest in 1967's Two for the Road. Audrey seemed up for the idea, but it turns out that it was her husband at the time, Mel Ferrer, who thought the casting wasn't right. If he was threatened by the handsome Tony's reputation with the ladies, he needn't have been. Tony and Audrey never had anything but a respectful friendship. In fact, had Tony starred in the role of Mark Wallace, history may have turned out a bit differently... As well as Audrey's marriage. For it was Albert Finney, (pictured left on the set with Audrey) the rugged, British actor that would wind up snagging the role and engaging in a heated affair with the graceful and alluring gamin. (Whoops, Mel). Tony was a long shot for this one anyway, since the role had already been offered to Michael Caine and Paul Newman.

Again, Tony shed no tears. He had at least been able to enjoy sharing the screen with the delightful Audrey in his brief but memorable appearance in the classic Paris, When It Sizzles of 1964. Tony's role in the fantasy sequence where Audrey is approached by a potential love interest, on a moped no less, was an uncredited favor Tony did for director Richard Quine. Quine needed to buy some time on the set, due to the fact that the film's male lead, William Holden (with whom Audrey had earlier had an alleged, tumultuous affair on the set of Sabrina), was coming down from one of his benders and needed time to recuperate and rehabilitate before filming could resume. So, Quine added a little scene that would give Audrey another actor to perform with in William's absence, and his pal Tony honorably entered to save the day. The moment is memorable and made all the more perfectly absurd due to Tony's presence, which was completely in keeping with the tone of the film.

Tony relaxes on the set with Audrey.

Just as Tony was surreptitiously intercepted from the lovely Ms. Hepburn, Grace Kelly would likewise be "plot-blocked" from James Dean, and both times by Elizabeth Taylor! Don't get excited, no cat-fights were involved. The two instances in which Grace was offered a role that later went to Liz were the results of timing, not conniving. The first example occurred when Grace was offered the lead in Giant (1956). Grace (right in High Noon) was intrigued by the role in the film, but MGM wanted to put her in The Bottom of the Bottle at her home studio instead of loaning her out to George Stevens at Warner Bros. Grace balked, refused to take on the role in the Metro vehicle, and as a result was put on suspension. She was not a woman apt to be told what to do. So, while Grace enjoyed some well-deserved time off, mocking the studio's ineffective punishment, Liz snatched up the role in Giant and subsequently ran away with it. It was a fated situation, for on the set Liz would become incredibly close with both her male co-stars, the tragic Dean-- with whom she built an understanding and closeness that few others on the set could accomplish-- and more importantly, Rock Hudson. Their friendship was lifelong, and it was Rock's later lost battle with AIDS that would launch Liz's steadfast activism toward finding a cure for the disease. She remains passionate about the cause to this day.

The final casting coup: Liz, Rock, and Jimmy

Item #2 was ill-fated from the get-go. The original cast of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof was to include James Dean and Grace Kelly-- and supposedly, Orson Welles as Big Daddy. The film had been in the works for several years, so by the time Richard Brooks finally got behind the camera to shoot the Tennessee Williams masterpiece, which was postponed until it ended its Broadway run on the stage, the original game pieces had already changed. Grace was married and living in Monaco, James had shockingly already died, and Orson was off being Orson somewhere. So, Liz stepped in opposite Paul Newman. I think we can all agree that this version of Maggie the Cat made the aforementioned 'Roof' much, much hotter! Though Grace's legendary use of restraint would have worked well in indicating the simmering, lustful boil beneath the beautiful surface of Maggie's character, Liz was far more openly sexual (feast your eyes, left). Grace was a sensual woman, equally capable of displaying eroticism, but her cries for sexual mercy would not have provided the carnal howl that Liz was able to produce. When she screams, "Maggie the cat is alive!" you know she means it, and you fear the fangs! (Well, maybe the guys don't). In the James vs. Paul category, it is hard to say who would have proved a better haunted and drunken golden boy. Paul had a few years on Jimmy, so his maturity certainly added to his understanding of the character. He is so perfect in the role that it is hard to imagine even the incomparable Dean showing him up. It also turned out that Burl Ives, (now best remembered for his renditions of Christmas songs), would play Big Daddy instead of Orson. Paul had fortunately already gotten to work opposite the eccentric master Welles when they co-starred in The Long Hot Summer earlier that year.

The true testament of sex appeal: when it still works on crutches

 Getting back to Jimmy (looking extra sexy, right), it may have been East of Eden that made him a star, but it was Rebel without a Cause that made him a phenomenon! Imagining anyone else racing around in that red windbreaker feels like sacrilege. Don't even try it; it will hurt your brain! However, the first name thrown onto the table of discussion for the role of Jim Stark was one of Jimmy's own idols: Marlon Brando! However, by the time filming was finally to commence, Marlon was pushing thirty and hardly seemed the right man to take on the role of a teenaged, angst-ridden boy. So, Nicholas Ray found his muse of adolescent torment in the smoldering and enticing Dean, who had the magical power of being at once both vulnerable and dangerous: the perfect, modern dreamboat. It all worked out according to plan. Just as Marlon seemed built for his infamous, star-making wail, "Stella!" in A Streetcar Named Desire, James was destined to cry out, "You're tearing me apart!" in Rebel. And that my friends, is why we let fate do the dirty work.