Grace Kelly

Cameron Mitchell-Hollywood Journeyman

Cameron Mitchell (1918-1994) was a fine and enduring triple-medium actor. His stardom never rose to the upper echelons of the Hollywood firmament, thus denying him status as a true legend. His carelessness in accepting too many film role after the breakdown in the Studio System, most of them in mediocre disaster or action flicks, was a further deterrent. The Seventies alone saw him in such painful fare as 'The Swarm' (1978) and 'Flood!' (1976). Although his roles were limited, from middle-age on, to parts in quickly-forgotten films, his talent and charisma remained strong.

From the boards of Broadway, where he originated the part of 'Happy' in Arthur Miller's 'Death of a Salesman', to the siren's call of studio-era Hollywood, he re-emerged in the 1960's on the vastest medium of all, television, to become a bona-fide star on 'The High Chaparral'.

During his Hollywood heyday, he starred opposite such diverse talent as Marlon Brando and Doris Day, Marilyn Monroe and James Cagney. For some 5 decades he brought grit, sincerity, and well-modulated ability to a surprising array of roles. Armed with a particularly agreeable macho charm, he was a natural in Westerns and all manner of outdoorsy adventures. Never a one-note actor, he also shone in flimsy comedies (opposite that trio of gold-digging lovelies Marilyn Monroe, Lauren Bacall, and Betty Grable in 'How to Marry a Millionaire'-1953) and musicals (starring in the classic 'Carousel' opposite Shirley Jones and Gordon MacRae-1956). He was even at home in costume dramas ('Desiree' with Brando and Jean Simmons-1954).

From 1967-1971 he starred with Leif Erickson on the immensely popular television series 'The High Chaparral'. A few years later he was back on TV as a castaway on the short-lived 'Swiss Family Robinson' with Martin Milner and future Oscar-winner Helen Hunt.

Like many character actors, he chiseled out a long career in a wide spectrum of films. In later years, production quality was often an issue, as was distribution. (Who today has heard of, much less seen, 'Slavers' or 'Rage to Kill'). He also managed dozens of guest appearances on TV. His talent and obvious dedication to his chosen craft remained strong as he worked, one way or another, until the end. In a sense, as a true journeyman, he went where the work took him.

Ronald Colman Appreciation Society

I will begin this post with a disclaimer. If you do not use Facebook, then you will not be able to fully appreciate what follows. While that saddens me--truly, I feel your pain--I will continue on with my intended subject matter with no compunction whatsoever.

No intelligent person would deny that Facebook is the rancid breeding ground to some acutely ridiculous user-generated 'groups'. Some are flat-out offensive. I believe that those should be treated as one would treat an objectionable television show: don't look at it. Go look at something else, leaving it available for those who enjoy it. There is, however, one group that I have, for some months now, been steadily falling in love with: the Ronald Colman Appreciation Society.

It is swell, it is swoon-worthy, it is visually stunning: it is every type of superlative wrapped into one potently suave package. Ronald Colman is in the top three of my (imaginary) HOLLYWOOD VOICES CANON (along with Fredric March and Claude Rains, but that is the subject for another piece). The RCAS is home to more than 600 Colman photographs, many of them quite rare. It is run by avid fans and collectors, so the passion and dedication comes from the right place. It is simply a venue that allows one to share thoughts, experiences, opinions and memorabilia with like-minded others. As such, it is a small but fantastic little niche of the Facebook community.

The RCAS has definitely reminded me why, when I was new to old movies, I found Colman so appealing as an actor. I initially discovered hims as the handsome half of the romantic on-screen Colman-Banky team. There was so much to discover from there, as his talent manifested itself in so many directions. I read James Hilton's "Lost Horizon" at around this time. I was soon thrilled to realize that Colman played Robert Conway in the classic 1937 film adaptation.I may be a movie fanatic, but I am definitely a read-first, watch-after type of girl. I prefer to paint my own pictures, using the author's words and my imagination. Once that has been set in place, it is only with great difficulty that a film or an actor can supersede my peculiar inner vision. The very idea of thinking of an actor while reading the book is anathema to me. Yet, Ronald Colman is one of the few actors that I associate with a novel. That novel is not "Lost Horizon".

By the time that I watched "A Tale of Two Cities" (1935), I had already read the Dickens book twice; my current tally stands at 4. Even though I followed my own protocol, Ronald Colman is indelibly fused with Sidney Carton. From the moment that I open the front cover, Colman is in my mind. He leaps into my psyche if I so much as think about the book. His portrayal seems more of an inhabitation than an impersonation: it is one of the most fully realized and deeply ingrained in all of cinema. This single achievement--hitched to those remarkable looks, that voice--is reason enough to have a Facebook page devoted to the man.

If you have access, I highly recommend that you stop by the Ronald Colman Appreciation Society and become a fan. You can connect and share with others or, if you are like me,you can simply flip through the magnificent gallery of photos.

Photo Courtesy of Ronald Colman Appreciation Society (Helen Lallo).

NANCY CARROLL

Imaginative Thinking

I am having something of a Nancy Carroll moment:a scandalously long moment, if you must know.There is no need to Google the conversion rate:it works out to approximately three weeks.I have been doing a little too much inward living lately,which makes me seem perhaps a bit backward:but we all go through phases,rotations.This pull between inner and outer,which to me is as ancient-seeming as the sun or the earth beneath our feet, is mine.It is to be shackled then set free, in an endless loop that has covered all of my days and will continue to do so until the frost sets in and hardens.It is for this reason that I am a writer,and am stage-trained:those two poles reflect the opposite aspects of my most primal nature,and both require the ability to sink into the depths of imagination.
There are those who will tell you that I think too much,dream too much,know too much:as if any of those ends,even after a thousand years of living,could ever be reached.Others consider the imagination to be the sole province of children and imbeciles, and thus far from a right pursuit for adults.They are obviously not artists.I am proud of the way I am. I have no qualms in tossing my imaginative life into the world for all to see:after all, to one extent or another, I do so with every piece that I write.Anyone even distantly familiar with my writing voice realizes that,while I dive to the depths, I am not a dry writer. I do not stack my words dispassionately one after the other,like erect soldiers arow,arow,arow.
My imaginative faculties are like rapids:formidable and ever-moving.While I love being a modern woman, I have always felt an exhilarating affinity with the 1920's.This love affair has easily been aided by books and movies, the 2 lovely-dirty culprits that can be blamed for my sense of connectedness with various historical eras (19th-century Russia, Elizabethan England,Ancient Britain,etc.).The greatest appeal of that decade is in what it meant to be a woman then,in the million little ways that the world opened up for us.There was a delicious clarity to that freedom that has since almost entirely vanished from society.
I am entirely besotted with Silent Cinema, and have been since I saw my first frame.As a history and culture buff, I take an almost Anthropological interest in the first 20 years of the American film industry ( I am not counting the earliest,disjointed years when the flickers were a nascent novelty,neither business nor art form).I think that it should be viewed from the combination of one part Margaret Mead, one part Anita Loos.
As a teenager, I checked out and devoured score upon score of early-20th Century related books,about: Hollywood and fashion and pop culture and art and literature and politics.They were biographies and autobiographies,criticisms and studies,fiction and non-fiction,scathing and naive.They were an apt schooling for one of my temperament and natural bent.
I first came upon the luscious fiery-locked Nancy Carroll in a nameless,forgotten book.I'm sure that the initial appeal was that we shared the same rare hair-colour.I enjoyed reading about her,and enjoyed her films even more.Yet others soon became my favourites. I moved on rather swiftly, as there was so much yet to uncover and explore.I have been reminded of her periodically through the years:each rediscovery has been refreshing,and brief.She was certainly a nonpareil.Her charismatic screen presence was extraordinary.She photographed remarkably well,even though her round face was initially deemed a hindrance to stardom.She was incandescent and peppy but without the hedonistic quality of Clara Bow or the sophisticated yet raw sexuality of Louise Brooks.She could act as well as sing.She received an Academy Award nomination and was stunningly popular for a time.As with so many others with stratospheric attractions,her fame has not lasted:it did not even last the length of her lifetime.I recently came upon a photo of her,somewhere in the vastness of the Internet.Hooked again,just like that.
She is an easy one to build daydreams and stories around.By that, I do not mean that I sit around concocting fictional escapades around Nancy Carroll--although that sounds kind of fun,doesn't it? ( I will own up to looking her way for some beauty tips.) Perhaps something in the vein of those writers who turn historical figures (Jane Austen, Good Queen Bess) into wacky and perceptive sleuths?It is the Nancy Carroll type that is so mesmerizing.Like any good flapper,she was complex,truly dimensional--and ridiculously stylish.The legendary life force of those 1920's women lends itself to fiction in spectacular fashion.They are also model muses for any modern woman looking to get the most from this life.It is largely due to the latter that I find them insanely relatable.Even the most mediocre Flapper has an immediacy of personality almost unheard of with women of even considerably newer vintage.
I have had a 1920's novel floating around in my head for these 3 years past.I woke from a dream,and the bones and flesh of it were before my eyes,palpable and flowing with blood.It is 2nd in the queue of my unborn works of long fiction,but its time of quickening is nearly upon me.Although many of her details need to be imagined,created,shaded,my heroine came to me as tangible as life.She is a Flapper,of course, and as such a woman for the ages.The spirit of women such as Nancy Carroll, as filtered through my imagination and preferences, is to be found in her.
As the race of my days has been temporarily slowed down to accommodate my inner dictation,as mysterious as it is necessary,I have returned again and again to subjects that make me happy,give me no pause,help my imagination soar.It is a process of regeneration and renewal.This time around, I have been lucky to have Nancy Carroll in the mix,to remind me of my own ineffable zest,and the thousand little links between imagination,inspiration and creativity.

FROM MY VAULT:WILLIAM POWELL-MORE THAN MYRNA'S OTHER HALF

A couple of weeks ago, I posted an old piece about Myrna Loy. The following article about William Powell originally appeared in the same publication.

Debonair.Urbane.Witty.Sophisticated.Irreverent.William Powell wore all of these superlatives like a very expensive,hand-stitched glove.In the era of the young and overpowering Clark Gable and Gary Cooper,Robert Taylor and Tyrone Power,the slightly bug-eyed,lanky Powell was already middle-aged.Distinguished in appearance,with a to-the-tuxedo-born aura,he found leading man success.His attitude,however,was more street savvy,fast-talker than drawing-room polite.He charmed,cajoled and double-talked his way through dozens of films in a career that lasted more than thirty years.His characters were always willing to be a little shady if it furthered their purpose;indeed,they seemed to revel in being sly and less-than-straightforward,their misdeeds often accompanied by a wink.

He was immortalized as Dashiell Hammett's hard-drinking,wise-cracking Nick Charles,a role that he played to acerbic,dissipated perfection in half-a-dozen films. In what is perhaps the most sublime pairing in cinema history,he flirted,argued,bantered and,occasionally,solved crime opposite the incomparable Myrna Loy.As fresh and sexy today as they were an unbelievable 7 decades ago,the proof of their physical chemistry and verbal syncopation is in the watching.

Nick Charles was not his first successful foray into detective-portrayal.He brought Philo Vance to life in four films from the late Twenties through the early Thirties.Lest we try to pigeon-hole him as a suave city-dweller,it pays to remember that he started his celluloid career as a silent film villain in,of all things,Westerns.Silent films enabled actors to readily and believably play characters of various nationalities without the need to master a foreign accent.In this vein,Powell portrayed both King Francis I and The Duke of Orleans.Although,as a former Broadway actor,he had a wider range than the ironic,tippling,slightly ruthless characters that he is most famous for might suggest.

Myrna aside, he starred with the likes of Jean Arthur,Lillian Gish,Louise Brooks and Marilyn Monroe. On the home front,he was married to one co-star and engaged to another.His second wife was the elegant,brash Carole Lombard. He was engaged to tragic sex-symbol Jean Harlow at the time of her death from uremia poisoning in 1937.He ultimately settled down into one of Tinseltown's rare long marriages,to starlet Diana Lewis,in a union that lasted from 1940-1984.He died in 1984,at 91.

He was nominated for the Best Actor Academy Award 3 times but never won.His career steamed through the 1940's with nearly as much momentum as in the 2 previous decades.Still occasionally starring with Loy,he also performed with such up-and-comers as Ann Blythe and Elizabeth Taylor.He received his final Oscar nomination for the 1947 classic "Life with Father" and finished his film career 8 years later as part of the all-star "Mister Roberts".

William Powell's portrayals remain one of the indelible factors of 1930's cinema.He never took himself too seriously on film and his characters,whatever their situation,always seemed to be having a good time....and a good laugh at life's expense.

From My Vault:Myrna Loy-An Appreciation

Old movies first set fire to my imagination when I was 11.It started with "The Moon is Blue"(1953),a romantic trifle starring William Holden and a neophyte Maggie McNamara that ventured to use the V-word (that is, virginity) during the Eisenhower years,hardly a daring exclamation to a 1980's pre-teen.Absurd as this may seem today,this innocuous film was enough to hook me to classic cinema for life.

It didn't take me long to realize that there was higher quality fare to be seen, and I was soon regularly watching old Hollywood classics.'80's television,with few exceptions,paled to a death pallor next to the richness and chic,drama and effervescence of studio-era output.

As a 16-year-old acting student,I breathlessly discovered old-school film stars from a new angle.From Spencer Tracy to Marilyn Monroe,Ronald Colman to Claudette Colbert,they were all beings who dominated the screen.Sometimes glamorous,sometimes tragic,always incandescent,they represented human variety in its stupefying spectrum.

At some point,and with great good fortune (there really is no other phrase for it),I saw a Myrna Loy film.I wish I could say,with assurance,which one it was.My memory leans towards "The Mask of Fu Manchu" (1932),or perhaps one of her earlier 'Oriental' baddie roles.Either way,it was hardly an encouraging introduction to an actress known for her sparkling wit and sophistication, yet it is fitting.In one of the strange twists that Hollywood is so known for Loy,a fresh-faced redhead from Montana,was often cast early in her career as a menacing Asian vamp. Indeed, "The Mask of Fu Manchu" came just 2 years before her star-making turn as Nora Charles in "The Thin Man" (1934).

Combining panache and elegance,she starred in comedies and melodramas,always an intelligent force to be reckoned with.Her star-power was never weakened by the dazzle of her co-stars.The wattage emanating from the likes of Tracy,Clark Gable and,most famously,William Powell only served to play up her command of the screen.Even the shimmering eyeful Jean Harlow,with whom Loy starred in 2 1936 releases ("Libeled Lady" and "Wife Versus Secretary"),did not detract from her vital presence.

At 18,with my acting ambitions still cheerily intact,I received a note from the 86-year-old Loy,by then much my favourite actress.She was gracious to this Ohio teenager with hazy though outlandish ambitions.Let me take a moment here to clarify that I am not,nor have ever been,in spite of my passion for film,star-struck.I am stubbornly hard to impress and wouldn't walk across the room to meet 99% of celebrities who ever drew breath.(Authors,dead ones,are my true weakness).Myrna Loy was the role-model exception.

In "The Best Years of Our Lives" (1946),playing a war-weary wife,she proved her mettle in a drama of depth and realism,endowing the character with poignant maturity.She never played a false-scene,in any genre,never betrayed the machinery at work behind her art.The lady could act.

I eventually gave up acting in favour of writing,for me a more comfortable and primal fit,but my Myrna Loy note,hanging on the wall to the left of my writing desk,remains a treasured possession.It serves as a reminder that,as Myrna Loy proved over the decades,cinema and real life can handle smart,sophisticated,complex and witty women.

PHOTOGRAPH:MYRNA LOY IN "SHADOW OF THE THIN MAN" (1941)

Kay Francis-Part I

Kay Francis' charms are tantalizingly out-of-reach for me, and those of my ilk. She was everything that I am not, and therein resides the sweet mockery of her appeal.Perhaps it is a hiccup in my personal psychology, an erratic call-to-arms,but by my creativity and intellect I am drawn to two types of women-as-inspiration:those within my warm reach and those many-a-mile without it.

The dark,leggy, soignee Kay is firmly classified as the latter.(Since DNA decreed me,quite clearly, to be a saucy Nancy Carroll type, the only thing Ms. Francis and I share is an enchanting speech impediment.)She was as cool and smoky as dry ice, with witty and insouciant clothes-sense to burn.It is for her effortless, slightly off-kilter chic that she is remembered at all.She has been reclaimed, shiny and whole, as an edgy,elegant minx of the 'thirties.And, it is true:she wore clothes with a sleek nonchalance seldom approached even by the outre-stylish. Yet,as an actress, she is on the precipice of being entirely forgotten,a quietly echoing fate shared by hundreds of once-enchanted individuals.They all, to varying degrees, deserve at least a cursory reconsideration.Kay Francis is surely among those whose career and critical reputation is worthy of a full,firm rebirth, conceived from a just and judicious reappraisal.

Above even her striking looks, which only pellucid,living celluloid can do proper justice to, rests,immobile, her strongest contribution to film-culture:her womanliness.Kay Francis possessed not a trace of flirty girlishness,owned not a smidgen of nubile coquettishness,however wily.She was a full-on woman from her first film-frame to her last.She was no youthful matron ala Florence Vidor, but an engaging and sensual female with an over-flowing life-source.This quality allowed her to play the vamp, the wronged hoyden, and the misunderstood heroine with pure perfection.Kay Francis also lent grace and sophistication to her diva-in-the-drawing-room roles,which, though less demanding,required a certain level of lacquered precision,a quality that she had,personally, in excess.

Hollywood traditionally allows its actresses to be sexy,complicated,vital and grown for the span of a few years.That triumphant phase is hemmed in by two endless deserts, those of prolonged youth and premature crone-hood.Dishearteningly few women have been able to strike the mold to the ground,breaking it beyond repair.Tallulah Bankhead comes to my mind as a simmering example of commanding and sexual womanhood, but her film career was spotty,contentious and largely marginal.

Kay Francis was Paramount's maven of melodrama for nearly a decade,before her career was hobbled,though not ended, by inclusion on The Hollywood Reporter's underhanded "Box Office Poison" list, in 1938.A reputation for tetchiness and personal drama was certainly no help.Fate is not a mistress of respect;she cares not a whit for talent,or a fig for incandescence:most Hollywood careers are of relatively short duration.In a market constantly over-sated--even 70 years ago, when attention spans were arguably not as fickle as they have become--staying in the spotlight is nearly impossible.Therefore,it is what you do while it flickers across your face that counts.

Kay Francis left a unique impression on film, proving that women are indelibly beautiful and compelling when allowed full expression to be themselves,and to grow into maturation as ripening and rooted beings.

PHOTO:KAY FRANCIS IN 'THE FEMININE TOUCH' (1941)

Stay tuned:In Part II, I will discuss the films of Kay Francis.

Rita Hayworth:Forgetting Gilda

I have always found it strange,if not surprising,that Rita Hayworth is best-known for playing sultry bad girls.Her electric incandescence could,when concentrated,be sold as a solely sexual commodity,and it was.Her natural glow,when caught by a camera,was enough to illumine a football stadium.Yet,her impersonations of tramps,vamps and heartless schemers,however fiery, were a stretch for her, and it shows.Although she turned in a capable dramatic performance or two at the end of her career,Hayworth was at her best in quietly comedic roles that allowed her true strengths as a performer to shine through.The root of her appeal is based on a solid,enchanting sweetness,understated comic timing and dancing skills so fine that Fred Astaire considered her his most technically able partner.

The private woman was mind-numbingly shy. Even her most exuberant roles reflect the demureness that she wore off-screen like a second-skin.Like many great stars,she infused her characters with some of her personal qualities while never falling back on impersonating herself.There is a delicacy and calm at the heart of her best performances, and a lovely serenity that made her so believable as a girl-next-door when her stunning looks should have made such a feat impossible.

The young Rita came to fame through the ambitions of a succession of other people, including her mother and her much-older first husband.That someone so petrified of engaging with the world was in the red-hot spotlight for more than 20 years just to please those she loved is sad. To have all eyes on you, all the time when you just want to be left alone must be a personal,perpetual circle of hell.The world,though, is richer for her having endured a career and level of fame that she was never interested in.Yet she worked immensely hard at her craft,consistently giving her all in a game that did not suit her nature.

She considered herself a comedian who could dance and I think that her assessment is a correct and just one.When she was set free as a performer ,and allowed to harness her quiet yet jewel-like abilities to their proper medium,she was enthralling.Although she was sublime in her two films opposite Astaire, my favourite Hayworth flick is the one she made with Gene Kelly, Phil Silvers and a bevy of models:"Cover Girl" (1944).

There is something about the dynamics of this war-time musical that make it so readily and repeatably watchable.Separately,the components are engaging and worthy yet,when fitted together,they make up one of the breeziest,catchiest, and most believable comedies of the era.

"Cover Girl" was the first film to give Gene Kelly artistic control of the dance sequences.Kelly was much more than a dancing leading man who could act:he was the father-creator of brilliant,ahead-of-its-time cinematic choreography.Witness the scene where he dances with his shop-window reflection;it was but a small sign of what was to come for the innovatory hoofer.

Hayworth,Kelly and Phil Silvers are a trio of performing buddies who nightly fill out the bill at Kelly's off-Broadway establishment.Hayworth, as Rusty, is the star dancer while Silvers, as Genius, is, to no one's surprise, the goofy comedian.Silvers' usually overbearing shtick is kept in check here.He is entertaining, caustic and appealing without crossing over the hair-thin line to murderously annoying, as he was to do later many times.

Rusty's ambitions ultimately take her further than Danny's small stage.She leaves to become a Broadway headliner for an aging impresario who, coincidentally, knew her musical-theatre Grandmother way-back-when. This is as much a necessary plot-twist as it is an excuse to showcase the stunning Hayworth, as her character's Grandmother, in period costume, for which she seems made.

All turns out right in the end, as these things always do;the well-worn convolutions of boy meets/wins/loses/wins girl again is not the point. The originality is in the memorable musical numbers and the lively chemistry of the three leads."Cover Girl" caught, for posterity, three talents then in the ascendant.

Hayworth fell in love with and married a genius of her own during production.Orson Welles became her second husband while the film was shooting.Instead of retiring into the truly private life that she yearned for, she became so much modeling clay to another stronger-willed husband. Yet, Welles and her studio (Columbia),between them, never quite succeeded in transforming her into a believable,careless woman of mystery.As timid and pliant as she was,she ultimately knew herself better than all of the powers-that-be combined, and time has proven her correct.Rita Hayworth was a comedian who could dance, which is a legacy of much rarer composition than any bad girl could ever hope to achieve.

MARY ASTOR:PATRICIAN BEAUTY AND FIERCE PATHBURNER

There was a deep chasm between Mary Astor's looks and personality. Her beauty was of the patrician,elegant variety but her mind had a smolderingly modern bent.She was sexually liberated far ahead of her contemporaries, even by louche Hollywood standards. Scandal trailed behind her like a sumptuous mink stole.From teenage bit player to co-star of Barrymore and Bogart, her cinematic career lasted 4 decades and encompassed well over a hundred films.Her performances in fare as diverse as 'Don Juan' (1926), 'Dodsworth' (1936), 'The Maltese Falcon' (1941), 'The Palm Beach Story' (1942) and 'Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte' (1964) has firmly settled the mantle of stardom on her memory.

Yet to her contemporaries she was the locus of a continuing sexual firestorm that gained momentum as the free-living 1920's yielded to the sober new decade.She had a torrid affair with, among others, John Barrymore, who helped jump-start her career. It culminated in a nasty divorce/custody battle with her second husband, over the juicy contents of a diary kept during her affair with playwright George S. Kaufman.Her many divorces and personal demons, which were thrust before a greedy public, only served to eclipse what was a truly stellar and critically acclaimed career.By the time of her last celluloid appearance (in 'Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte'), her celebrity had long been dormant.She was, fortunately, never quite forgotten. LIFE magazine asked, on its February 1980 cover,"Whatever Became of Mary Astor and Other Lost Stars?" It featured a luminous image of Mary from the early Sound Era. It kicked off a renewed interest in the actress that has never ceased.

Mary Astor won an Academy Award as Best Supporting Actress for 1941's 'The Great Lie'.She was impressively adept in all genres: she consistently owned her roles,whether in high comedy or maudlin drama.Her keen presence and ability meant that she was never overshadowed by costars or material, and was seldom required to play a passive role:her characters--villains and heroines alike--were proactive women.

AMAZING MARY ASTOR FILMS:

BEAU BRUMMEL (1924) DON Q SON OF ZORRO (1925) DON JUAN (1926) RED DUST (1932) THE KENNEL MURDER CASE (1933) EASY TO LOVE (1934) PAGE MISS GLORY (1935) DODSWORTH (1936) THE PRISONER OF ZENDA (1937) MIDNIGHT (1939) THE GREAT LIE (1941) THE MALTESE FALCON (1941)THE PALM BEACH STORY (1942)MEET ME IN ST. LOUIS (1944) LITTLE WOMEN (1949) HUSH...HUSH,SWEET CHARLOTTE (1964)

Modern Day Doris (Happy 85th, Ms. Day)

Modern Day Doris by amisslis on Polyvore.com

Gloria Swanson-"Queen Kelly"

LA SWANSON

Gloria Swanson is the very definition of nonpareil. There has been no one, in the unbelievable 95-years since her film debut, to approach, even by a nautical mile, the shining facets of her peculiar gifts. She possessed an inherent singularity which, when coupled with a steely-nature, was hell-bent on carving not just a niche for herself but inventing a new species, of which she was to be the sole exemplar. And she was.

Her film career proper started in comedies. She was a teenager when she found herself doing the slapstick game in movies for Mack Sennett and, later, for Triangle Pictures. She had a transformation at the hands of Cecil B. DeMille. Now known for his extravagant epics, he also turned out sophisticated fare, which Gloria found herself the centerpiece of for several years. She became a true worldwide phenomena during that time.

She was tiny--not quite 5 feet tall--but broke the delicate-woman-as-china-doll mold by being a bona fide, elegant fashion plate. She was never coy or child-like; drollery and repartee were more her thing. This attitude extended to her attire: there was always something slightly odd--what we would call fashion-forward or edgy today--about her appearance. She was the most stylish star of silent cinema yet her look, like the lady herself, was beyond the reach of anyone who desired to copy her.

Her features were not pretty in any accepted sense: she was sharp-angled with large eyes. Yet her looks,falling short of the ideal, somehow transcended convention to become beautiful. Film loved her. She is always luminous on screen, and in photographs, at eighteen or eighty.

In many ways, her life, career and genuinely unconventional attitude seem, on the surface, to be of text-book quality. If that is so, it is only because she authored the text-book to which the public, and later stars, have spent their lives studying.

Married multiple (in her case, 6) times? Check.Married to a movie star AND minor royalty? Check. Acted the diva? Check. Earned huge salaries? Check. Was mobbed wherever she went? Check. Never appeared in public looking less than perfect (for SEVENTY YEARS of stardom)?Check. Lived through scandals and thrived? Check.

Yet, all it takes is a minor excursion into the interior to find that, not only was she a true pioneer in the cult of personality,but a deeply-dyed believer in holding true to your own character, however unconventional. She had three children--two to whom she gave birth--and flaunted them in a profession, and at a time, when to do so could be career suicide.She equally embraced her many grandchildren. She was a health food fanatic decades ahead of the curve.

She gamely joined the medium of television in its live heyday, even hosting her own show: other movie stars soon followed. She remained stylish until the end but became, from the 'fifties onward, more accessible to real women. She designed fashionable clothes for plus-sized women at a time when they had few options. She helped develop a natural cosmetics line fifty years before that became the rage. In 2009, while pure cosmetics are widely available, they have yet to become the norm.She was also an accomplished artist and able singer.

She was a star of the brightest light who never ceased working long hours. If she became famous and wealthy, it was largely through her own physical,mental and artistic toil. She never tired of putting in an extraordinary effort to achieve, and then maintain,her special status. During her many years of inactivity in film, she found other ways to feed her muse, and herself. When she got it all back again--thanks to a legendary performance in 'Sunset Boulevard' (1950) opposite William Holden--she held onto it permanently, with an attitude and ethic as keen as ever.

Gloria Swanson's life was dramatic, long and varied. She lived to tell the tale on herself in her autobiography "Swanson on Swanson". As with all such projects, it should be taken with a grain of salt but it still remains a must-read for any true fan of cinema when it was silent. Its brush-strokes are expertly applied, not a bristle is askew. It paints Ms. Swanson exactly as she wished to be remembered: hard-working, sincere, witty, independent, smart, pioneering, loving,imperfect,modern, strong-willed, talented, accomplished and entirely unique. How many of those qualities were held by the real woman can be attested by the accounts of her contemporaries but that is hardly the point.

She took the raw material of her being and shaped it into exactly the version of herself that she desired. As someone I know loves to say, "Your perception is your reality." Gloria Swanson's perception was her reality and, by her careful filtering, it has become ours as well:she remains modern, relevant, stylish and highly watchable.

Photo: Gloria Swanson in 'Don't Change Your Husband' (1919).

Collection Obsession

There are a few things that make my heart and mind exceptionally happy, aside from life's essential, simple pleasures. Any time that I am able to combine two or more of those loves, I feel as if I have been given an extra slice of pie.Rarely do I find something that catches hold of me in such a way as to spark an instant itch to start a collection. Recently, I came across an artist whose work meets all of the above criteria.ART+GOLDEN-ERA MOVIE STARS=LOVE at first sight, at least at the gifted hand and eye of Kate Gabrielle.

I am an old-movie nut of the first tier. It is therefore not by coincidence but by sly design that I write, among other things, both on this site and elsewhere, about Classic Hollywood in its many strange, riveting facets.I also have an art background hidden in the not-so-distant depths of my past. Thus, while I know my stuff, I am much like anyone else: I know what I like when I see it, period.

Kate Gabrielle has an Etsy shop full of delightful, slightly quirky yet spare, and altogether arresting images of old stars.She sells originals as well as excellent high-quality copies, all signed.The array of her subject matter is contained tidily within the name of her shop: silents and talkies (silentsandtalkies.etsy.com). There you will find represented the iconic ( Audrey Hepburn, Steve McQueen)alongside the (to modern eyes) obscure ( Audrey Totter, Annette Hanshaw, George Brent). In between are true heavyweights (Barbara Stanwyck, James Cagney) and living legends (Maureen O'Hara,Shirley MacLaine).

I do not recall, even after such brief time, exactly how I came across her page. Yet, once I saw the images, I knew that a new collecting mania was about to take hold and inhabit my consciousness. I purchased three pieces, all copies;proving that I possess a strength and self-discipline of which I should be proud.

Wrapped up nice and tight, ready for their trip to the framer's, are energetic, personable likenesses of Myrna Loy, Veronica Lake and Clara Bow. They will soon be joined by a number of others; their ranks will doubtless be growing over the next few months. On seeing her work for the first time, I instantly envisioned an entire wall dedicated to her movie star renderings. All that remains is deciding which ones will find their home on that wall,which will act as a giant inspiration board as I sit typing away at my articles and stories-some of which will be about the very people whose faces and features surround me.

ARTWORK: KATE GABRIELLE

PLEASE VISIT HER SHOP AT: silentsandtalkies.etsy.com

HER SECOND SHOP IS AT: kategabrielle.etsy.com

SHE ALSO HAS A BLOG: silentsandtalkies.blogspot.com

PHOTOS BY: THE AUTHOR

Joan Crawford

"I have always known what I wanted, and that was beauty...in every form."-Joan Crawford

Joan Crawford's career spanned nearly fifty years, making her one of the longest-employed movie stars in Hollywood's history. She was able and versatile but, more importantly, she was the possessor of a ferocious tenacity. It was this last quality, rather than exceptional ability, that ensured her longevity.

Madonna was not the originator of physical and career reinvention--Crawford had her beat by half a century. Both started out as sexy, vigorous representations of their generations. In order to move their careers forward, they adapted and, in so doing, often set trends. Joan Crawford transformed herself from jazzy Flapper to Depression-era working girl to Boss Lady, surviving periods where she was distinctly out of fashion to bounce back higher than before.

She exemplified, perhaps more than any other celebrity, what it meant to be famous during Hollywood's Golden Age. She devoted more time,energy and ingenuity into developing and maintaining her image than anyone before or since. She was not an outstanding beauty, and her talent was average. She transformed her ordinary gifts into something that was, while not exactly perfection, an admirable mixture of style, relatability and sexiness.

"Hollywood is like life, you face it with the sum total of your equipment."-Joan Crawford

Happy Birthday, Ms. Crawford

Betsy Blair-1923-2009

Something Extra in Honour of Saint Patrick's Day: Maureen O'Hara

I am breaking my own rule--just this once--by posting something not only pre-written but previously published elsewhere. The below article first appeared, in slightly different form, in The Atomic Tomorrow in September 2005. Enjoy!!

In an industry with few certainties, where yesterday's brightest star is gone tomorrow without a trace, the charming appeal of Maureen O'Hara remains tangibly relevant more than 70 years after her graceful debut. The majority of her impressive body of work spans the 1940's-1960's, with a few decidedly worthy performances book-ending those decades.

Starting out as a player at Dublin's legendary Abbey Theatre, the teenager was soon under personal contract to Charles Laughton, debuting under the directorial genius of Alfred Hitchcock. After being brought to Hollywood to again star opposite Laughton, this time in 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame', she found herself indentured to the studio system when her contract was sold.

Faced with a confused studio hierarchy, who did not know what to do with the regal, intelligent actress, she bounced around in a handful of pretty unimpressive films. She soon found solid footing under the direction of John Ford. 'How Green Was My Valley', Richard Llewellyn's classic tale of family life in a downtrodden Welsh mining village, was magnificently adapted by the already legendary director. Well-built yet gracefully commanding, she soon carved a unique niche for herself as a female 'swashbuckler'. She found solid success by doing her own stunts while displaying a personality both fiery and self-possessed.

Portraying the logical, fairy-tale denying mother of Natalie Wood in 'Miracle on 34th Street' (original version) commenced another successful aspect of her career. Although only 26 years old, she embraced the professional opportunity that this afforded. Today, she is closely identified with a number of maternal roles,endowing her mothers with a hip, breezy, sexy and modern attitude.

She was a most-worthy partner for the otherwise stilted machismo of John Wayne in one of Hollywood's best screen partnerships. Real-life platonic best-friends, they had a sizzling yet affable chemistry that usually revolved around a well-matched battle-of-the-sexes. She hitched Wayne's talent to her own, elevating his wooden but iconic ability far above that which he exhibited on his own or opposite less-dynamic co-stars. 'The Quiet Man' is the ultimate movie of O'Hara, Wayne and director John Ford. As near to perfect as the hollywood movie machine can get, then or now, it remains refreshing, absorbing and delightful nearly sixty years after its release. Worth all 7 years it spent in the planning stages, it has spawned legions of devoted fans known as 'Quiet Maniacs'.

Forever Esmerelda, forever Angharad, forever the mother of the young Natalie Wood and the twinned Hayley Mills, forever Mary Kate Danaher....Maureen O'Hara's roster of classic performances is nearly as interesting as the lady herself. She is a real-life heroine:as a fighter for Irish identity within the American immigration process, she made history. She was the first celebrity to sue a tabloid and win, putting the shady and story-concocting 'Confidential' out of business 50 years ago. After retiring from Hollywood, she became a magazine publisher and airline president, the first woman to hold that position in the US. Tough, elegant and brave, she is one of the few actresses in Hollywood history whose real-life accomplishments and endowments match those of her on-screen counterparts.

John Ford, the quintessential American director, won two of his Academy Awards for films starring Maureen O'Hara: 'How Green Was My Valley' and 'The Quiet Man'.

Photo-Maureen O'Hara in 'The Black Swan' (1942).

If I Were a Silent Movie Queen......(Circa 1925)

I would:

1-Dye my hair an outrageous colour not found in nature. As the flickers are black and white, it will not affect my characterizations of innocent farm girls/milk maids or telephone operators.

2-Dye the fur of my pet hounds to match my hair.

3-Have my touring car painted to match my hair.

4-And, so that we are all coordinated, force my "chauffeur" to wear a uniform that matches all of the above. This way, when I go shopping....

5-All eyes will be on me. Knowing that I will be the center of attention at all times is the only reason I bother getting out of bed in the first place. Otherwise....

6-I would just stay in bed all day with my chauffeur.

7-Spend more money on exotic furs than many nations can claim for their GNP.

8-Change my ensembles at least 4 times a day. To do so, means that I must constantly shop. I cannot be photographed in the same gown twice. That would be a disaster.

9-Never buy jewels as they will be showered on me by my various admirers: actors (preferably married co-stars), producers (also married), and directors ( see previous). However, although many photographs will be circulated of me opening gifts from fans, I will never keep any of that trash. My assistants handle matters involving the peons.

10-Refuse to make at least one film a year on moral or artistic grounds. This makes me seem like an artiste or sensitive church-goer. While on suspension from the studio, I must go to Europe where I will be photographed incessantly while shopping and sightseeing.

11-When I come back to America after my studio has caved to all of my demands, I must have a titled man of some sort in tow, as my new husband. I will, if at all possible, marry and divorce in a cycle of no longer than 3 years.

12-I will adopt two children, a boy and a girl. This will make me seem maternal while allowing me to keep my figure.

13-Decide that pet hounds are so yesterday. My new animal of choice will be some kind of small monkey, dyed to match my hair.

14-Never be surprised that my photograph is being taken. Of course there is press every where I go, it is what I am paid for. When there are no photographers about, then I will worry.

15-Never leave my house without my full-face on, even if I am wearing so much make-up that, close-up, I look like a clown. As long as I look good in the fan magazines nothing else matters.

16-Refuse to get out of bed for less than $15,000.00 per-week. Tax-free, of course!

Caricature by Ralph Barton, 1921.

Movie Star Shoes

I bought this pair of pumps last weekend. It was love at first glimpse. I was desultorily scanning the clearance shoes at Target--I write desultorily because I did not really think that they would have any size 5 1/2's--when I spied these babies. As all women know, some articles--whether clothing or accessories--are so perfect for you that they practically have your name written on them. That was the case with me and these shoes.

They remind me of Classic Hollywood, circa 1935. When I tried them on in the middle of the aisle on a busy Saturday, I was thinking of Jean Harlow or Ginger Rogers. The stitching, the width of the heel, and the old-fashioned bows scream (casually) dancing with Fred or verbally sparring with Clark.

I initiated them today, in casual Friday mode with a pair of denim trousers,and I could not possibly have felt more sophisticated or put-together.

SHOES: XHILARATION (TARGET)