Classic Movie Hub Blog

Classic Movie Travels: Jackie Cooper

Posted on August 9, 2023 by Annette Bochenek

Classic Movie Travels: Jackie Cooper – from California to New York City

John “Jackie” Cooper, Jr., was born on September 15, 1922, in Los Angeles, California, to John George and Mable Cooper. John G. Cooper worked as a lyricist, writing lyrics to “Do You Ever Think of Me?”; “Desert Love”; and “Playdays.” When Cooper was two years old, his father left his family. Cooper’s mother worked as a stage pianist. Mabel Cooper’s siblings were also employed in the film industry, with her brother, Jack Leonard, working as a screenwriter and her sister, Julie Leonard, working as an actress. Julie was married to director Norman Taurog. Mabel soon remarried to studio production manager C.J. Bigelow.

Cooper’s first foray into entertainment occurred very early in his life. His grandmother, Mary Polito, took him to her auditions, hoping that taking a child along would ensure extra roles for her. At age three, Cooper appeared in Lloyd Hamilton comedy films under the name “Leonard.” He progressed from bit parts to more substantial roles over time, pivotally being recommended to director Leo McCarey.

Ultimately, McCarey secured Cooper’s audition for Hal Roach’s Our Gang, leading Cooper to have a three-year contract with the studio. He joined the series with the Our Gang short, Boxing Gloves (1929). Initially, Cooper was a supporting character in the series but soon became a main character called “Jackie.” He replaced actor Harry Spear in the series and executed notable performances in Teacher’s Pet (1930), School’s Out (1930), and Love Business (1931).

Cooper was loaned to Paramount to star in Skippy (1931), directed by Taurog. Delivering a strong performance, Cooper was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actor, making him the youngest actor to be nominated in that category. Soon, Cooper found himself in high demand, leading Roach to sell his contract to MGM. Cooper went on to appear in many other features as a child star, including The Champ (1931), The Bowery (1933), Treasure Island (1934), and more.

During World War II, Cooper served in the U.S. Navy and remained in the reserves until 1982. He eventually retired at the rank of captain and received the Legion of Merit.

Cooper was married to June Horne from 1944 to 1949, with whom he had one son: John “Jack” Cooper, III. Next, he was married Hildy Parks from 1950 to 1951. Finally, he married Barbara Rae Kraus, with whom he had three children: Russell, Julie, and Cristina. They remained married until her passing in 2009. Per Cooper’s wishes, none his children went into show business.

Cooper attended Beverly Hills High school and continued to act in his teen and adult years, successfully transitioning from child star to adult actor. He appeared on television in The People’s Choice and Hennessy, as well as carrying out various guest appearances. In addition to taking on stage work, Cooper worked as vice president of program development at Columbia Pictures Screen Gems TV division, packaging and selling serial’s such as Bewitched to be sold to different networks. Moreover, Cooper worked as a director on episodes of M*A*S*H in addition to other productions, including the biopic Rainbow (1978), which focused upon the early life of his friend, Judy Garland.

Jackie appeared as Perry White in the Superman film series

Behind the scenes, Cooper was interested in automobile racing and participated in various events. He also penned an autobiography, entitled Please Don’t Shoot My Dog, in 1982. Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, Cooper appeared as editor Perry White in the Superman film series. He left the industry during his wife’s illness in 1989, and remained retired from that point on. His final film appearance was in Surrender (1987).

Cooper passed away on May 3, 2011, from natural causes at age 88. He was buried with full military honors at Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington, Virginia.

Today, some of Cooper’s former residences remain. In 1930, he lived with his grandmother, mother, and uncle at 527 N. Kilkea Ave., Los Angeles, California. The home stands today.

In 1935, he lived with his mother and stepfather at 702 N. Crescent Dr., Beverly Hills, California. This home also stands.

In 1942, Cooper was employed at RKO and resided at the Sunset Tower Hotel, located at 8358 Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood, California. This hotel still exists.

In 1950, he and Parks resided at 11 Waverly Place, New York, New York, which also stands.

In 1991, Cooper lived at 9621 Royalton Dr., Beverly Hills, California, which remains.

He also resided at 804 N. Rodeo Dr., Beverly Hills, California, which has since been razed.

…

–Annette Bochenek for Classic Movie Hub

Annette Bochenek pens our monthly Classic Movie Travels column. You can read all of Annette’s Classic Movie Travel articles here.

Annette Bochenek of Chicago, Illinois, is a PhD student at Dominican University and an independent scholar of Hollywood’s Golden Age. She manages the Hometowns to Hollywood blog, in which she writes about her trips exploring the legacies and hometowns of Golden Age stars. Annette also hosts the “Hometowns to Hollywood” film series throughout the Chicago area. She has been featured on Turner Classic Movies and is the president of TCM Backlot’s Chicago chapter. In addition to writing for Classic Movie Hub, she also writes for Silent Film Quarterly, Nostalgia Digest, and Chicago Art Deco SocietyMagazine.

Posted in Classic Movie Travels, Posts by Annette Bochenek, Uncategorized | Tagged Jackie Cooper | 3 Comments

Western RoundUp: News RoundUp

Posted on July 31, 2023 by Laura Grieve

Western RoundUp: News RoundUp

As we enter year six of my Western RoundUp column here at Classic Movie Hub, I’m going to do something a little different this month!

In this column I’ll be sharing a few different pieces of news about recent and upcoming events related to classic movie Westerns. As will be seen below, much of the news ties together.

We’ll start with my May visit to the annual Cowboy Cookout benefit at McCrea Ranch. It was my first time attending the benefit, which supports ongoing restoration work at the ranch, since 2019.

Joel McCrea Ranch House — The McCrea Ranch House

As I wrote here in a 2019 column on the Cowboy Cookout, McCrea Ranch was long owned by Joel McCrea and his wife Frances Dee and is on the National Register of Historic Places. Their grandson Wyatt McCrea was at the ranch to greet guests:

Joel McCrea's grandson, Wyatt McCrea — Joel McCrea’s grandson, Wyatt McCrea

A highlight of the benefit is the opportunity to visit the McCreas’ home, which is located down a road some distance from most of the ranch buildings.

This was the McCreas’ view from their front porch…

View from the front door of The Joel McCrea Ranch — View from the front door of The McCrea Ranch

…and this was a view out their back door.

View from the back door of The Joel McCrea Ranch — View from the back door of The McCrea Ranch

Guests at the McCrea Ranch fundraiser this year included Bruce Boxleitner, who narrates the ranch’s Visitor Center video:

Also on hand was actor Rudy Ramos, seen here with Boxleitner glimpsed at the right.

McCrea Ranch regularly hosts screenings of movies featuring Joel McCrea and Frances Dee. Coming in August is a screening of the Western The Lone Hand (1953) with a special appearance by former child actor Jimmy Hunt, who played McCrea’s son in the movie. Ticket information may be found at the McCrea Ranch website.

Speaking of Joel McCrea, some wonderful news is the upcoming August 2023 Blu-ray release of his film Wichita (1955). It will be released by the Warner Archive Collection.

You can read more about Wichita in my 2018 column on Wyatt Earp Westerns. It’s an excellent film which was directed by Jacques Tourneur, and I highly recommend it.

Also just out is a brand-new 4K/Blu-ray Criterion Collection release of five films with McCrea’s Ride the High Country (1962) costar, Randolph Scott.

The Ranown Westerns, a collection of five Randolph Scott directed films — The Ranown Westerns, a collection of five Randolph Scott films

The Ranown Westerns set contains five films in which Scott was directed by Budd Boetticher: The Tall T (1957), Decision at Sundown (1957), Buchanan Rides Alone (1958), Ride Lonesome (1959), and Comanche Station (1960).

Some of the extras are imported from earlier releases, but the set also contains a new program on Randolph Scott by Farran Smith Nehme, whose work I highly respect. I’ll add that I’m hoping this set will eventually have a more affordable Blu-ray-only release.

Three of these Ranown movies were shot in Lone Pine, California. More on that below.

This summer Kino Lorber Studio Classics is releasing two new Blu-ray collections of Audie Murphy Westerns.

Some of the films in these sets have not been previously available in the U.S., even on DVD. Among the half-dozen titles in these sets is another Lone Pine favorite, Hell Bent for Leather (1960).

Finally, the Lone Pine Film Festival has started to release information on this year’s Western screenings and movie location tours. The festival guest list is also starting to take shape. 2023 guests will include Patrick Wayne, Robert Carradine, and Bruce Boxleitner.

2023 poster for The Lone Pine Film Festival

One of the most remarkable aspects of the Lone Pine Film Festival is being able to watch a movie and then immediately visit its locations.

This year festival guests will watch Hell Bent for Leather (seen below at left) and then visit where it was filmed in the Alabama Hills (seen at right).

Likewise, guests will watch a screening of Ride Lonesome and see the station featured in the screenshot below, then be able to see where it was actually filmed, as seen toward the left of the panoramic Alabama Hills shot below.

The panoramic shot above also includes the location of the Tall T hideout, which was at the rightmost “mountain” of rocks.

My husband Doug is the festival’s horseback tour guide, and this year there will be at least two horseback visits to some of these sites available, along with car caravans to locations for walking tours.

Tickets for the Lone Pine Film Festival, held in early October, will be on sale soon. Please visit the Lone Pine Film Festival website for much more information.

Those interested in the festival or Lone Pine locations can also click on my name at the top of this column and find several more columns on those topics.

The photographs and screenshots accompanying this article are from the author’s personal collection.

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– Laura Grieve for Classic Movie Hub

Laura can be found at her blog, Laura’s Miscellaneous Musings, where she’s been writing about movies since 2005, and on Twitter at @LaurasMiscMovie. A lifelong film fan, Laura loves the classics including Disney, Film Noir, Musicals, and Westerns. She regularly covers Southern California classic film festivals. Laura will scribe on all things western at the ‘Western RoundUp’ for CMH.

Posted in Posts by Laura Grieve, Western RoundUp | Tagged Audie Murphy, bruce boxlietner, Buchanan Rides Alone, Budd Boetticher, Comanche Station, Decision at Sundown, Frances Dee, Hell Bent for Leather, jacques tourneur, Joel McCrea, Lone Pine, Lone Pine Film Festival, McCrea Ranch, patrick wayne, ride lonesome, robert carradine, the lone hand, the tall t, western, western movies, Western Roundup, westerns, Wichita, Wyatt Earp, Wyatt McCrea | 8 Comments

Silents are Golden: A History of the Iconic Vitagraph Studios

Posted on July 20, 2023 by Lea Stans

Silents are Golden: A History of the Iconic Vitagraph Studios

If you have even a passing interest in silent film, you’re no doubt familiar with the Keystone Film Company and Biograph–to say nothing of the Georges Méliès and Edison studios. But how well do you know Vitagraph Studios?

Vitagraph studio personnel Hollywood — Studio personnel posing at Vitagraph’s Hollywood location.

Very prolific in its day and older than Hollywood itself, Vitagraph was not only one of the earliest film studios but it created one of the very first movie stars – and it’s usually credited with creating the very first animal star, too. It was also well respected by its contemporaries. In honor of the studio’s 21st anniversary in 1918, the film magazine Motography wrote: “The history of Vitagraph is largely the history of the motion picture industry, for the organization has never lost its place in the front rank of producers.”

The Battle Cry of Peace (1915) — Still from Vitagraph’s popular feature *The Battle Cry of Peace* (1915).

It certainly had humble beginnings. Founder James Stuart Blackton, whose family emigrated from England when he was ten years old, became a reporter and illustrator in New York City. He also performed in a versatile vaudeville act with Albert E. Smith, which used magic tricks, ventriloquism, lightning sketches, magic lanterns, and more. In 1896 Blackton had the good fortune of being assigned to interview Thomas Edison about his filmmaking process. While touring the famed revolving Black Maria studio Blackton was offered a chance to be filmed doing a lightning sketch of Edison. Fascinated by the whole experience, Blackton would purchase the finished film, several other films, and a Vitascope (or projector). These turned out to be a great addition to the vaudeville act, and it wasn’t long before Blackton and Smith reasoned: why not create their own films? And thus Vitagraph was born – and in direct competition to the studio that created the Vitascope, we might add.

Blackton and Smith’s initial studio couldn’t have been simpler. They haggled their way into renting an office for cheap in a building at 140 Nassau Street. Its location on the 13th floor was in easy proximity to the roof, where they built a small set. Since this predated the invention of decent studio lighting, access to lots of natural light was a must. Smith claimed that their first film was The Burglar on the Roof (1897 or 1898) – clearly inspired by their surroundings – showing a burglar stealing items through the skylight before getting beaten by women brandishing brooms. Their budget was a grand total of $3.50, and supposedly the plot twist was inspired by the janitor’s wife stumbling onto the set and mistaking the acting for the real deal.

James Stuart Blackton's drawing of Vitagraph studios — James Stuart Blackton’s drawing of the location.

Vitagraph started churning out a number of very short dramatic films and light comedies and also wasted no time making newsreels, famously capturing the Spanish American war in 1898 (although some films were “assisted” by staging naval battles in a bathtub at the studio). One film with the self-explanatory name Tearing Down the Spanish Flag (1898) was released almost the second the war began, causing quite a hubbub. Vitagraph would also have a sense of security after a film distribution deal was worked out with the famously lawsuit-happy Edison company. This would help keep the studio relatively safe from accusations of patent infringement–a real headache during cinema’s early years.

Vitagraph location in Brooklyn — Vitagraph’s mid-1900s location.

In 1906 Vitagraph had enough success and resources to build a proper studio in the Midwood neighborhood of Brooklyn (they had previously moved to a better location on Nassau Street but had outgrown it). Located at East 14th Street and Locust Avenue, it had a large glass-roofed studio, offices, shops and storage buildings, and of course the all-important editing room. 1906 was also the year that actress Florence Turner signed with Vitagraph. At the time, actors in motion pictures were uncredited, but audiences became familiar with certain faces and demanded to see more of them. In Turner’s case, audiences called her the “Vitagraph Girl” and wanted to know who she was. She’s considered one of the earliest movie stars, just barely predating Florence Lawrence (who joined Vitagraph right around the same time).

Florence Turner.

As both the technology and art of motion pictures rapidly advanced, Vitagraph would gain hundreds of employees – around 1200 by 1915 – and more film stars. Leading man Maurice Costello is considered the first matinee idol, often acting in adaptations of famous books such as A Tale of Two Cities (1911). He also caused some consternation at the studio when he declared his intention to work only as an actor, and not to help clean, build sets or work in the wardrobe department (in those casual early days, actors doing double duties was commonplace). Jean the Vitagraph dog, a well-trained Scotch collie owned by writer Laurence Trimble, is considered cinema’s first animal star.

Maurice Costello.

Heavyset comedian John Bunny would join the studio in 1910 and become one of the most familiar faces in American film, especially once he was paired with rail-thin comedienne Flora Finch. The pair was very popular, and theaters would frequently request “more Bunnyfinches” from Vitagraph. Their most well-known comedy today is probably A Cure for Pokeritis (1912), where the fed-up wife Flora decides to deal with her husband’s poker addiction by staging a fake police raid. Sadly, Bunny’s reign in films was short and he died of Bright’s disease in 1915. Finch would continue on in comedies, although the “Bunnyfinches” were certainly the high points of her career.

Flora Finch, John Bunny and Mary Anderson in Father's Flirtation (1914) — Finch, Bunny and Mary Anderson in *Father’s Flirtation* (1914)

Vitagraph would enjoy a solid reputation until its business took a hit during World War I, despite its feature The Battle Cry of Peace (1915) being considered one of the war era’s greatest propaganda films. Other large studios were gaining ground and foreign distributors were starting to fall away. Following the war, slapstick comedian Larry Semon became Vitagraph’s biggest star, but as the stunts and gags in his comedies became more and more elaborate – and expensive – the alarmed studio had him become his own producer.

In 1925, after nearly 30 years in the business, a diminished Vitagraph was bought out by Warner Brothers. Redubbed “Vitaphone,” it would specialize in a flurry of early sound shorts. Throughout the following decades the Vitagraph name would be variously revived before being retired for good in the 1960s. And while the once-prolific Midwood studio complex was demolished in 2015, a tall brick smokestack bearing the name “VITAGRAPH” still remains, a reminder of those long-ago days of ten-minute dramas and Bunnyfinches.

Vitagraph logo

…

–Lea Stans for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Lea’s Silents are Golden articles here.

Lea Stans is a born-and-raised Minnesotan with a degree in English and an obsessive interest in the silent film era (which she largely blames on Buster Keaton). In addition to blogging about her passion at her site Silent-ology, she is a columnist for the Silent Film Quarterly and has also written for The Keaton Chronicle.

Posted in Posts by Lea Stans, Silents are Golden | Tagged A Cure for Pokeritis, A Tale of Two Cities, Flora Finch, Florence Lawrence, Georges Melies, James Stuart Blackton, John Bunny, Larry Semon, Mary Anderson, silent cinema, silent film, silent films, silent movies, Tearing Down the Spanish Flag, The Battle Cry of Peace, The Burglar on the Roof, Vitagraph Studios | 2 Comments

Noir Nook: Magnificent Characters – Rose Given, Cry of the City (1948)

Posted on July 13, 2023 by Karen Burroughs Hannsberry

**Noir Nook: Magnificent Characters – Rose Given, Cry of the City (1948)**

Film noir is practically overflowing with memorable characters, and within that massive collection of dames and dudes, I have a lot of favorites. This month’s Noir Nook is shining the spotlight on one of these: the magnificent Rose Given in Cry of the City (1948).

Hope Emerson as Rose Given in Cry of the City (1948) — Hope Emerson as Rose Given in *Cry of the City* (1948)

This 20th Century Fox feature stars Richard Conte as Martin Rome, who was charismatic, oh-so-charming, and a complete sociopath – we meet him after he’s been wounded in a shootout during a botched robbery that left a cop dead. The film follows Martin’s efforts to elude the authorities – headed up by dogged lieutenant Vittorio Candella (Victor Mature) – and flee with his young and innocent lady love, Teena (Debra Paget in her big screen debut). In typical noir fashion, the film takes a labyrinthine route as Martin carelessly uses a series of characters – including a prison hospital trusty, a nurse, and his own little brother – to achieve his goal. Along the way, he pinches some stolen jewels from a shyster lawyer (Berry Kroeger) and tracks down the dame who’s most interested in getting her mitts on those jewels: Rose Given, unforgettably played by Hope Emerson.

The solidly built Rose is a former entertainer who, we learn from another character, had a “terrific set of pipes [but] couldn’t carry a tune in a wheelbarrow.” Perhaps her lack of singing talent is what led Rose to her current vocation – she works as a masseuse under the moniker of Madame Rose (when she’s not teaming up with local hoods to burgle the homes of her wealthy clients).

Richard Conte and Hope Emerson in Cry of the City (1948) — Richard Conte and Hope Emerson

Rose is only in three scenes, but her entrance into the film – more than an hour in – is a visual treat. Martin is dropped off at Rose’s home-slash-place of business by an old girlfriend (Shelley Winters) and rings the doorbell. In the distance, at the end of a darkened hallway, Rose appears, framed by the open doorframe and backlit from the glow in her apartment. She walks down the hallway toward Martin (and us), stopping three times to turn on additional lights – these provide further illumination for the hall, but Rose’s face remains shrouded in darkness until she opens the front door, gives Martin the up-down, and coolly tells him: “I’m sorry. We’re closed.” (Seconds later, though, she recognizes him and invites him inside.)

From the moment she enters the screen, Rose is mesmerizing. She’s completely unflappable – when Martin insists that she was in on the jewelry heist, she doesn’t bat an eyelash, but calmly accuses him of bluffing. When Martin hands her a newspaper which proves he killed the lawyer who knew of Rose’s involvement, she rolls up the paper (as if she’s about to swat Martin like a pesky fly) and remarks, “I’m glad you killed him, Martin. He was a bad man. Very bad.”

In order to give Rose the pilfered jewels (which are safely ensconced in a subway station locker), Martin has four requests: a car, $5,000, a way out of the country, and a good night’s sleep. Here, Rose demonstrates that she’s no pushover. She claims to only have $2,000. She feigns ignorance when it comes to a method of getting him out of the U.S. And when Martin proves that he’s a worthy opponent, she smoothly revises her tactics, offering the weary Martin a massage that abruptly morphs into a physical threat – until she learns that Martin doesn’t have the locker key on him. “I suppose not. You’re too smart for that,” Rose tells him, punctuating her words with a menacing, yet almost affectionate caress.

Rose’s second scene is a brief one – less than a minute long – but it’s no less captivating. It takes place at the breakfast table on the morning after Martin has gotten his requested “good night’s sleep.” Martin doesn’t like to eat in the morning (he’s starting his day with a cigarette), but Rose certainly does, and she leaves no doubt that she enjoys her food. Watching her eat sparks a reaction somewhere between revulsion and admiration; it’s a whirlwind of gastronomic activity as she talks with food in her mouth, her cheeks bulging and one elbow on the table, offers a saucer of pancakes to Martin, pours coffee, and shares that she loves to cook and wants to buy a home in the country, where she can have fresh eggs, milk, and cream every day. It’s something to behold.

But it’s in her last scene that we really see what Rose is made of. Here, Rose meets Martin at the subway station, where he is to hand over the key to the locker where the jewels are stashed, and she’s to give him the money and the means to leave the country. Three guesses as to whether this transaction goes off without a hitch – and the first two don’t count. Rose is a joy to watch as she gives a master class in moxie; Martin thinks he’s running the show, but he hasn’t reckoned with Rose, who shows up in a fancy hat and fur coat, like she’s on her way to an evening at the theater. But Rose isn’t here for entertainment purposes. She’s here to get those jewels, without giving up a single nickel to Martin – so when she snatches the locker key out of his hand and pulls a gun on Martin, we’re not a bit surprised. We even cheer. Sadly, for Rose, things don’t end up as she’d planned, but let’s just say that she doesn’t go down without a fight. Literally.

Cry of the City is available for free on YouTube, so you can treat yourself to a rewatch or discover it for the first time. Either way, be sure to keep an eye out for the fabulousness that is Rose Given. You’ll be glad you did.

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– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Karen’s Noir Nook articles here.

Karen Burroughs Hannsberry is the author of the Shadows and Satin blog, which focuses on movies and performers from the film noir and pre-Code eras, and the editor-in-chief of The Dark Pages, a bimonthly newsletter devoted to all things film noir. Karen is also the author of two books on film noir – Femme Noir: The Bad Girls of Film and Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir. You can follow Karen on Twitter at @TheDarkPages.
If you’re interested in learning more about Karen’s books, you can read more about them on amazon here:

Posted in Noir Nook, Posts by Karen Burroughs Hannsberry | Tagged Berry Kroeger, Cry of the City, Debra Paget, film noir, hope emerson, Noir, richard conte, victor mature | Leave a comment

Silver Screen Standards: For Me and My Gal (1942)

Posted on July 12, 2023 by Jennifer Garlen

Silver Screen Standards: For Me and My Gal (1942)

Although both of them made more memorable pictures on their own, For Me and My Gal (1942) marks the film debut of Gene Kelly and his first pairing with Judy Garland, who was just breaking out of juvenile roles and into adult leading lady status after numerous films with Mickey Rooney and The Wizard of Oz (1939). Directed by Busby Berkeley but far tamer than that might suggest, this charming if overtly sentimental MGM musical merges vaudeville nostalgia and World War I era patriotism in a bid to bolster the morale and wartime resolve of American audiences still experiencing the early days of World War II. For modern viewers, its appeal lies mainly with its two iconic stars, both of them in transition in their roles here, with Kelly bursting into film full of his characteristic energy and 19-year-old Garland proving that she’s ready to play grown-up romantic leads.

For Me and My Girl (1942) Judy Garland and George Murphy — When we first meet Jo (Garland), she is working with nice guy Jimmy (George Murphy), who doesn’t want to stand in the way of her success.

The story opens on the vaudeville circuit in the early years of the twentieth century, before the Great War becomes a pressing concern for the American public or traveling entertainers like Jo Hayden (Garland) and Harry Palmer (Kelly). Ambitious and self-centered, Harry convinces Jo to leave her act with her loyal admirer Jimmy Metcalf (George Murphy) and join forces with him instead, but setbacks constantly thwart their hopes of breaking into the big time in New York. Jo’s beloved brother, Danny (Richard Quine), joins the Army as WWI progresses, but Harry cares only about getting his shot at stardom and is desperate to delay his service after he is drafted. He intentionally smashes his hand to keep his opening date at the Palace, but his actions have unintended consequences for his relationship with Jo and his ensuing efforts to make amends.

For Me and My Girl (1942) Judy Garland and Gene Kelly — Once Jo teams up with Harry (Kelly), they hope to break into the big time and play the Palace in New York.

Garland, the established star, is sympathetic, vulnerable, and poignant as Jo; it’s a perfect role for her, and the audience understands why both Jimmy and Harry fall in love. Her performance of “After You’ve Gone” is especially moving, although the endless vaudeville montages of other songs run together after a while. She also has a memorable scene with Marta Eggerth, the Hungarian operetta star who plays Eve Minard, a successful, sophisticated singer who attracts Harry’s admiration. Those moments of pain for Jo showcase Garland’s talent for pathos, but I always find her heartbreak a little too real when I watch her in such roles. A childhood veteran of the vaudeville stage, Garland knew the life and personality of Jo all too well, and she understood from her own experience the hardships someone like Jo must endure. Garland is so compelling in the tragic scenes that the happy ending rings a bit false, although some of that effect derives from the moral ambiguity of her leading man’s character.

For Me and My Girl (1942) Gene Kelly and Judy Garland — Harry eventually finds a way to serve in the war in spite of his damaged hand, and in France he discovers Jo entertaining the troops.

Gene Kelly makes Harry Palmer a complex, slippery sort of romantic lead, perhaps more nuanced than a feel-good wartime musical requires. We believe Eve Minard when she tells Jo that Harry will only bring her pain, even if Jo refuses to see the truth about the man she loves. His character is so flawed and self-centered that the studio had to make changes to the preview cut to satisfy audiences that Harry – rather than the devoted and selfless Jimmy – might actually deserve to get the girl at the end. There’s a darkness in Kelly’s performance as Harry that we only rarely catch a glimpse of in his later films, but it suggests that he might, like Tyrone Power, have made a hell of a noir anti-hero had he ever gotten the chance. Musicals, however, would be his future, and his song and dance numbers in this debut amply prove his ability even if they lack the personal stamp he would put on his performances in later pictures like On the Town (1949), An American in Paris (1951), and, of course, Singin’ in the Rain (1952). His energetic, frankly masculine style would become the perfect counterpoint to Fred Astaire’s airy grace, but here we see it on the big screen for the first time. Anchors Aweigh (1945), for which Kelly created the dance sequences, would signal his full arrival as a musical star and earn him the only Oscar nomination for Best Actor of his career.

For Me and My Girl (1942) George Murphy, Judy Garland and Gene Kelly — The stars of For Me and My Gal highlight the film’s patriotic themes in this promotional image.

After For Me and My Gal, Garland and Kelly reunited for The Pirate (1948) and Summer Stock (1950), the latter of which would be Garland’s last movie with MGM. Both actors also appear in the 1943 musical, Thousands Cheer, which includes Garland as part of the guest star segment and Kelly as one of the characters in the romantic comedy portion of the film. If you’re interested in similar treatments of the vaudeville era, try Rose of Washington Square (1939) and Hello, Frisco, Hello (1943), both starring Alice Faye, or see Garland play a different up-and-coming vaudeville singer in Ziegfeld Girl (1941). Marta Eggerth made many films in Europe, but you can also see her with Judy Garland in the 1943 musical, Presenting Lily Mars.

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— Jennifer Garlen for Classic Movie Hub

Jennifer Garlen pens our monthly Silver Screen Standards column. You can read all of Jennifer’s Silver Screen Standards articles here.

Jennifer is a former college professor with a PhD in English Literature and a lifelong obsession with film. She writes about classic movies at her blog, Virtual Virago, and presents classic film programs for lifetime learning groups and retirement communities. She’s the author of Beyond Casablanca: 100 Classic Movies Worth Watching and its sequel, Beyond Casablanca II: 101 Classic Movies Worth Watching, and she is also the co-editor of two books about the works of Jim Henson.

Posted in Posts by Jennifer Garlen, Silver Screen Standards | Tagged alice faye, an american in paris, Anchors Aweigh, busby berkeley, for me and my gal, Fred Astaire, gene kelly, george murphy, Hello Frisco Hello, Judy Garland, Mickey Rooney, On The Town, Rose of Washington Square, singin' in the rain, Summer Stock, The Pirate, the wizard of oz, Thousands Cheer, Tyrone Power, ziegfeld girl | 6 Comments

Classic Movie Travels: Robert Rockwell

Posted on July 10, 2023 by Annette Bochenek

Classic Movie Travels: Robert Rockwell

Robert Griswold Rockwell was a popular actor on stage, film, radio, and television. He was born on October 15, 1920, in Chicago, Illinois, and raised in Lake Bluff, Illinois. His parents were Harold and Margaret Rockwell. Rockwell also had two sisters: Mary and Georgia.

Rockwell expressed an interest in the performing arts, studying at the Pasadena Playhouse and earning his master’s degree.

As the years went on, he enlisted in the U.S. Navy, where he served for four years in Washington, D.C. He returned to acting and secured roles as a contract player at Republic Studios. He appeared on various television shows and on the stage, from uncredited to title roles as well as voiceover work.

In 1942, Rockwell married Elizabeth Anne “Betts” Weiss, also occasionally referred to as “Betty Anne,” with whom he had five children: Susan, Robert, Jeffrey, Gregory, and Alison. They two met when Weiss was studying costume design at the Pasadena Playhouse. The couple eventually relocated to Pacific Palisades when they were expecting their fifth child. They remained married until his passing in 2003.

Rockwell’s most notable role was as biology teacher Philip Boynton, succeeding Jeff Chandler as the character in the radio, television, and film iterations of Our Miss Brooks (1956). He was also a founding member of the California Artists Radio Theatre, in addition to pursuing work beyond his radio roles.

Robert Rockwell and Eve Arden in Our Miss Brooks (1956) — Robert Rockwell and Eve Arden in *Our Miss Brooks* (1956)

Because Rockwell became so identified with the Boynton character in the Our Miss Brooks comedy series, attaining dramatic roles was more difficult. Nonetheless, he would appear in television programs such as Perry Mason and Gunsmoke in addition to starring in the western-themed series, The Man from Blackhawk. His television appearances continued with guest roles as well as working in advertisements; in particular, he could be spotted in the 1995 Werthers Original commercial, portraying a grandfather treating his grandson to the candy.

Off-screen, Rockwell and his wife were very much involved with their community. They hosted ice cream sundae socials for their friends and family at their home in Pacific Palisades, California. Rockwell also worked as one of the coaches for the Redbirds little league baseball team, which was part of the Palisades Recreation Center.

Once Rockwell’s children grew up and began to establish their lives in Southern California and beyond, Rockwell and his wife moved to Malibu. Weiss dreamed of living in a home that looked out on the ocean. She maintained the residence until her passing in 2019.

Robert Rockwell, older — Rockwell, older

Rockwell passed away on January 25, 2003, in Malibu, California, from cancer. He was 82 years old.

In 1920, Rockwell’s family lived at 115 Center St., Lake Bluff, Illinois. The home stands today.

In 1930, Rockwell’s family relocated to 230 Evanston Ave., Lake Bluff, Illinois. This home has since been razed.

In 1947, Rockwell and his wife lived at 94 N. Raymond Ave., Pasadena, California. This home remains.

In 1950, Rockwell’s family moved to 13971 Peach Grove Ln., Sherman Oaks, California. This home also remains.

By 1960, Rockwell and his family resided at 650 Toyopa Dr., Pacific Palisades, California. This home no longer stands.

Rockwell and his wife also resided at 18428 Coastline Dr., Malibu, California. This home remains.

The Pasadena Playhouse remains at 39 S. El Molino Ave., Pasadena, California.

The Pasadena Playhouse, 39 S. El Molino Ave., Pasadena, California

…

–Annette Bochenek for Classic Movie Hub

Annette Bochenek pens our monthly Classic Movie Travels column. You can read all of Annette’s Classic Movie Travel articles here.

Posted in Classic Movie Travels, Posts by Annette Bochenek | Tagged Eve Arden, Gunsmoke, Jeff Chandler, Our Miss Brooks, Perry Mason, Robert Rockwell, The Man from Blackhawk | 1 Comment

Monsters and Matinees: A Killer Gaze: Richard Burton and his ‘Medusa Touch’

Posted on July 8, 2023 by Toni Ruberto

A Killer Gaze: Richard Burton and his ‘Medusa Touch’

A severely beaten man who has survived a heinous assault is unconscious in a London hospital.

His head and face are wrapped in bandages with only his eyes (a key thing) and mouth visible. The heart monitor near his bed is flatlined, but inexplicably there is a small blip of brain activity. He isn’t dead – but is he alive?

As the 1978 British film The Medusa Touch unfolds over the next 100 minutes, that blip will grow in speed and size, increasing in intensity and pulling the viewer to the edge of their seat. At least that’s how I felt recently watching this thriller starring Richard Burton as a troubled man who believes he can kill with his mind.

The intensity of Richard Burton – and his eyes – cuts through the screen in *The Medusa Touch.*

The film summary – A French detective in London reconstructs the life of a man lying in hospital with severe injuries with the help of journals and a psychiatrist – made me believe I would be watching a simple mystery, but I got more.

The title also references one of my favorite monsters, Medusa, the mythological creature who turned people into stone with one look. I wondered how that played into the film and, of course, I hoped the creature would show up in some way, as implausible as that felt. (Technically she did appear, but as a piece of art.)

It turns out that The Medusa Touch is an intriguing combination of mystery thriller and telekinetic horror film. When one of the characters utters the simple line “For a moment, I turned to stone,” it is definitely chilling.

While Brian DePalma’s excellent 1978 film The Fury remains tops in this genre, The Medusa Touch is an interesting and nicely done movie with nifty special effects. (Wait until the nearly 10-minute scene of death and destruction at the end.) It appears to have fallen under the radar over the past 40-plus years, but certainly deserves a new look. Honestly, it’s worth watching (and listening) to see Burton – who makes the most of his somewhat limited screen time – along with Lee Remick, French/Italian actor Lino Ventura (The Valachi Papers) and a supporting cast that includes Harry Andrews, Jeremy Brett and Derek Jacobi.

This fantastic image from *The Medusa Touch* illustrates how the life of comatose writer John Morlar (played by Richard Burton) is told through flashbacks from conversations between his psychiatrist Dr. Zonfeld (Lee Remick) and Inspector Brunel (Lino Ventura).

* * * * *

The Medusa Touch opens with a television broadcast of the impending disaster of the Achilles 6, a U.S. mission for the first permanent station on the moon. We only see the back of the person watching in a dark room, but we know it’s Burton. He plays John Morlar, a writer of novels and poetry that are darkly poetic, often angry and filled with bombast.

There’s a knock at the unlocked door.

“Thought you’d come,” he says without turning around.

The unseen visitor violently spins his chair so they face each other.

“Ah, response at last,” Morlar says before a statue is smashed against his head, again and again, blood splatters on the TV screen.

Caravaggio’s painting of Medusa is on the wall of a writer who survives a vicious beating in *The Medusa Touch* making viewers wonder what it means.

As the opening credits begin, the camera focuses on the Medusa shield on the wall that captures her moment of death: snakes for hair, a scream of horror forever etched on her face, blood at the base of her decapitated head. Finally Medusa’s image dissolves into Burton’s face. Director Jack Gold is making a statement.

Detectives arrive, led by dour French inspector Monsieur Brunel (Lino Ventura) who is in London as part of an exchange program. (We’ll warm up to him.) All are sickened by the sight of the body on the floor. “Talk about beating somebody’s brains out,” one says. We don’t see the face – the director shoots the scene with the head cleverly hidden behind a chair – but we get the point.

Inspector Brunel reads one of Morlar’s journals that holds pages of neatly printed poems, rants and mysterious words:

No sign of L

Zonfeld

The West Front

What does it mean? The mystery kicks in.

After examining the crime scene and questioning a neighbor, they return to Morlar’s apartment where the inspector reads more poetry. (The film has a passion for words, and I appreciate that.)

“There are more tears than smiles, there is more sea than earth
One day, the insupportable grief of mankind will seep over the land
and an ark will float on that liquid expression of misery.”

It’s a glimpse into a man’s soul, but we don’t have time to reflect because the sound of heavy breathing intrudes.

Our corpse is alive. It’s a miracle.

* * * * *

A doctor has no answers for the increasing brain activity of man without a heartbeat in *The Medusa Touch.*

Morlar barely shows signs of life at the hospital which is also where victims of a nearby jumbo jet crash were taken. (Coincidence?) We’ll return to his room throughout the film, but the only change is the unnerving bleeps from a machine that shows his increasing brain activity, while another doesn’t register a heartbeat. “You’re looking a mind determined not to die,” the doctor chillingly says.

We get to know Morlar through his journals and flashbacks. Providing much insight into this complicated man is the Zonfeld mentioned in his journal. That’s Dr. Zonfeld, his psychiatrist, who is played by Lee Remick with her startling blue eyes that have their own role to play.

The film drills deep into the ideas that eyes are not only the windows to the soul, but also are Medusa’s power source. The camera, then, loves to focus on the eyes and with Remick and Burton having similar coloring, their connection is unmistakable.

Even as a child, John Morlar (played here by Joseph Clark) had powerful eyes.

People also fear Morlar’s eyes.

“Have you seen Morlar’s eyes?” neighbor Pennington asks the inspector. “The church says there are demons in some people and there are.”

As a law student, Morlar is described as withdrawn and someone who had “The most disconcerting eyes. One could never return his gaze in conversation.” Creepy.

Flashbacks let us eavesdrop on sessions between Zonfeld and Morlar, where we hear about his “gift for disaster” and how trying to convince him they are simply delusions or a series of coincidences only make him angrier.

“It’s not coincidence, it’s me,” Morlar forcefully insists, quickly telling the doctor “You spend most of your time dragging people out of hell, yet you refuse to recognize the devil.”

John Morlar (played by Richard Burton) desperately pleads with his psychiatrist (Lee Remick) to believe he can kill people with his mind in *The Medusa Touch*.

This is a man haunted by tragedies that he feels so deeply responsible for that he collects newspaper clippings in an oversized scrapbook: Floods, tornadoes, earthquakes, massacres, riots, killings, murders, air crashes, famine.

He recounts the many people who died in his life: His childhood nanny who terrified him with her tales of brimstone, fire and hell; his cruel and bullying mother and milquetoast father who also met with accidental deaths, as did the cruel headmaster at his school. Then there’s his neighbor’s wife. Though Morlar says he didn’t physically kill them, he vehemently believes he willed them to die.

Listening to Burton spew Morlar’s beliefs and anger in that powerful voice is wonderful. “I made it happen, I commanded it to happened,” he bellows. (This film would not have been the same without Burton.)

He shares his anger about the world – with the government spending millions on rescuing three astronauts while millions of people starve, a judicial system that doesn’t protect the innocent and money collected to save buildings. It sounds almost noble even to Inspector Brunel who says “I am learning to admire the man.”

Along the way, what started as a simple whodunit becomes a film that makes the characters and viewers question their own beliefs. Is it all a coincidence? Can someone psychically will an act of violence? Is Morlar a victim of circumstance? Possessed? Mad?

While the film takes the idea that he can kill with his mind quite seriously, it doesn’t supply any pat answers.

Even Morlar doesn’t know as he screams an anguished “What am I?” to Dr. Zonfeld.

She doesn’t have an answer for him.

Me? All I’m sure about is that Richard Burton has killer blue-green eyes.

Medusa on film

The fun poster for Hammer’s *The Gorgon* starring Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee.

Treat yourself to seeing Medusa in a movie as she is meant to be: a killing machine who only needs to look at her victims. I highly suggest two classic movies: Hammer’s traditional horror film The Gorgon (1964) starring the dynamic duo of Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing, and Clash of the Titans (1981) with its Greek gods and monsters and a Medusa crafted from the talents of stop-motion animation master Ray Harryhausen.

– Toni Ruberto for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Toni’s Monsters and Matinees articles here.

Toni Ruberto, born and raised in Buffalo, N.Y., is an editor and writer at The Buffalo News. She shares her love for classic movies in her blog, Watching Forever and is a member of the Classic Movie Blog Association. Toni was the president of the former Buffalo chapter of TCM Backlot and now leads the offshoot group, Buffalo Classic Movie Buffs. She is proud to have put Buffalo and its glorious old movie palaces in the spotlight as the inaugural winner of the TCM in Your Hometown contest. You can find Toni on Twitter at @toniruberto.

Posted in Horror, Monsters and Matinees | Tagged lee remick, richard burton, The Medusa Touch | 3 Comments

Western Round Up: “B” Movie Sampler – Vol.2

Posted on June 29, 2023 by Laura Grieve

Western Round Up: “B” Movie Sampler – Vol.2

Last summer I shared a series of short reviews of “B” Westerns I watched while traveling.

I went on another road trip earlier this month and again watched several short Westerns in the evenings, thanks to my portable DVD player.

Taken together the films I watched provide a nice cross-section of “B” Westerns released between the early ‘30s and early ‘40s.

It’s interesting to note that despite each one of these films having a different cowboy star, only two directors and two cinematographers worked on the quartet of movies discussed below. And rather amusingly, George “Gabby” Hayes appeared in every single one of these!

Here’s a sampling of this year’s vacation viewing:

Hidden Valley (Robert N. Bradbury, 1932)

I chose this short 57-minute Monogram Western because I like Bob Steele and knew the film was packed with familiar Lone Pine locations, filmed by Archie Stout. The movie even features Lone Pine’s Dow Villa Hotel doubling as a courthouse, and when Steele’s character escapes through a window, LONE PINE (all but the final “e”) can be seen painted on the side of the building.

Hidden Valley (1932) Movie Poster — *Hidden Valley* (1932)

The plot is some nonsense about Bob (Steele) working as a guide for a man with a map to a hidden valley of treasure, and when the man is murdered, Bob is arrested and convicted of the killing.

Of course, he didn’t do it, and what follows is one of the crazier “B” Westerns I’ve ever seen. It’s set in what I call “Roy Rogers Land,” with a mixture of cowboys on horseback, cars, telephones, and electricity poles in view — but what really makes it unique is the film features a Goodyear Blimp! I was amazed, as at different points Bob is rescued by the blimp and parachutes out of it.

Lobby card for Hidden Valley (1932) — Lobby card for *Hidden Valley* (1932)

There are some excellent stunts but the acting is flat throughout — though the deadpan acting of the blimp pilot almost veers the film into “so bad it’s good” territory. Steele and his director father (Bradbury) made many better “B” Westerns, but this one will linger in the memory nonetheless, thanks to the blimp over the Alabama Hills.

Heart of the West (Howard Bretherton, 1936)

This fourth film in the Hopalong Cassidy series finds Hoppy (William Boyd) and Johnny (James “Jimmy” Ellison) traveling to take a trail drive job for rancher John Trumbull (Sidney Blackmer, misspelled Sydney in the credits).

Heart of The West (1936) Movie Poster — *Heart of The West* (1936)

Along the way they save the life of Windy (George “Gabby” Hayes). When Hoppy and Johnny arrive at their destination they discover that Trumbull is trying to force Windy’s boss, Jordan (Charles Martin), out of business so they switch sides and go to work for Jordan instead. It doesn’t hurt that Johnny is attracted to Jordan’s pretty sister Sally (Lynn Gabriel).

Lobby card for Heart of The West (1936) — Lobby card for *Heart of The West* (1936)

This short 63-minute film doesn’t have any unique features and is hampered by pretty Gabriel sounding rather like Minnie Mouse. It’s also a bit too quaint at times; when Blackmer menaces Sally, he comes off like the villain in an old-school melodrama.

That said, it’s nicely produced, with most scenes shot outdoors by Archie Stout in Sonora and Kernville. It’s an amiable hour-plus; if you like Hopalong Cassidy films as I do, this fills the bill nicely.

Riders of Destiny (Robert N. Bradbury, 1933)

This was the first of 16 “Lone Star” Westerns John Wayne made for Monogram. He was directed by Robert N. Bradbury, father of Wayne’s friend Bob Steele; Steele’s twin brother, Bill Bradbury, dubbed Wayne’s singing. Bradbury sounds nothing like Wayne, but he has a nice voice.

Riders of Destiny (1933) Movie Poster — *Riders of Destiny* (1933)

Wayne plays “Singin’ Sandy” Saunders, who rides into a town in the middle of a water war and land swindle being run by James Kincaid (Forrest Taylor). Saunders is helpful to the farmers, and though at one point his undercover work among the bad guys leads others to jump to wrong conclusions, no one will be very surprised when it’s ultimately revealed he’s a federal agent.

Wayne is engaging throughout, even when contending with the obviously fake dubbing of his singing; he also valiantly makes it through a very odd gun showdown which he approaches… singing?! One can see that doing so many of these types of films, including having to portray a singing gun battle, would prove to be a great training ground for the actor.

John Wayne and Cecilia Parker in Riders of Destiny (1933) — John Wayne and Cecilia Parker in *Riders of Destiny* (1933)

Cecilia Parker, later to be Andy Hardy’s sister at MGM, is an appealing leading lady, and there’s some outstanding stunt work by Yakima Canutt, warming up for Stagecoach (1939). I do note that a couple of horse stunts are concerning, making one wonder if the animals were okay afterwards.

It’s an entertaining little 53-minute movie, which like the above Westerns was filmed by Archie Stout. This time around the movie’s locations included the Jauregui and Carr Ranches in Newhall, California.

The supporting cast included Gabby Hayes, Al St. John, and Earl Dwire.

Bordertown Gun Fighters (Howard Bretherton, 1943)

This one might have been my favorite of the week. Bill Elliott plays an undercover federal agent – a theme this week! – trying to bring down Cameo Kirby (Ian Keith), who runs a crooked lottery in El Paso.

Bordertown Gun Fighters (1943) Movie Poster — *Bordertown Gun Fighters* (1943)

In a surprising bit of casting, Harry Woods plays a federal marshal working with Bill; the majority of Woods’ “B” Western roles were as bad guys so it was quite refreshing to see him on Bill’s side. The sequence where he rescues Bill and the unsuspecting Gabby Hayes from a sheriff who’s in league with the villain was quite fun.

Lovely Anne Jeffreys, who costarred in eight Elliott films, plays Cameo’s innocent niece and even gets to sing “Camptown Races.”

And look very closely at a messenger who makes a delivery to Woods — it’s a very young Ben Johnson!

Bill Elliot, Anne Jeffreys and George "Gabby" Hayes in Bordertown Gun Fighters (1943) — Bill Elliott, Anne Jeffreys and George “Gabby” Hayes in *Bordertown Gun Fighters* (1943)

This one has a good story and moves along pretty well over the course of its 56 minutes. It was filmed by Jack Marta. Locations included Iverson Ranch, which I wrote about here last year.

None of these films has had a nice DVD release, although it’s worth noting the ClassicFlix label is working to restore and release Hopalong Cassidy films later in 2023. The movies I’ve written about above may be found various places including on the public domain DVD label Alpha or on YouTube.

In closing, this month I am celebrating my fifth anniversary writing the Western RoundUp column, which is rather hard to believe! Thanks so much to Classic Movie Hub for giving me the opportunity to share so much about a genre I love, and thanks to everyone who reads and comments!

…

– Laura Grieve for Classic Movie Hub

Posted in Posts by Laura Grieve, Western RoundUp | Tagged Anne Jeffreys, Bob Steele, Bordertown Gun Fighters, Cecilia Parker, Earl Dwire, Forrest Taylor, George "Gabby" Hayes, Harry Woods, Heart of The West, Hidden Valley, Howard Bretherton, Ian Keith, James "Jimmy" Ellison, john wayne, Lone Pine, Riders of Destiny, Robert N. Bradbury, Sidney Blackmer, Stagecoach, western, western movies, Western Roundup, westerns, William Boyd, Yakima Canutt | 11 Comments

Silents are Golden: A Closer Look At – The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923)

Posted on June 15, 2023 by Lea Stans

**Silents are Golden: A Closer Look At – The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923)**

The silent era is synonymous with many things: tenderly-lit romances, wacky silent comedies, edgy German Expressionism, and, of course, big-budget spectacles. From Intolerance (1916) to Metropolis (1927), silent era epics are uniquely fascinating when we consider that only a few decades prior, entertainment had been limited to the confines of a stage. It’s easy to imagine how exciting it must’ve been to be able to film actual massive crowds, and build real towering sets, to make grandiose visions come to life like never before.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923) Lon Chaney Patsy Ruth Miller — *The Hunchback of Notre Dame* (1923)

One of the more well-known silent epics is The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923), a Universal picture produced by Carl Laemmle and “boy wonder” Irving Thalberg. Taking six months to produce, using thousands of extras, and boasting a faithful recreation of the Notre Dame cathedral towers, it certainly gave audiences their money’s worth.

The choice to play the severely deformed bellringer Quasimodo was obviously, and practically predestined: Lon Chaney, who was already famous for his uncanny ability to play deformed or “freakish” characters. Chaney himself had longed to play Quasimodo well before the film was a twinkle in Laemmle and Thalberg’s eyes. He had even made plans to film a version of Hunchback for the Chelsea Pictures Company in Germany. These plans fell through in early 1922, and by September of that year Universal’s epic Hunchback feature was in production.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923) Cathedral construction — The cathedral set under construction.

Chaney was still fresh from his famous turns as a con man in The Miracle Man (1919) and the legless crime lord in The Penalty (1920). Quasimodo would be one of his biggest challenges, being one of the most deformed characters to appear on the silent screen. Chaney used putty to shape the cheeks and details around the eyes, put in false teeth, donned a very knotted wig and finished it all off with a hump reportedly made of leather and plaster, weighing about 10-15 pounds. He apparently met with people who had actual deformities to learn about their experiences, poured over Victor Hugo’s descriptions of Quasimodo, and carefully worked on his posture and body language to look as authentic on screen as possible.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923) Lon Chaney — Lon Chaney as Quasimodo

Esmerelda would be played by Patsy Ruth Miller (she had only been in films since 1921), Ernest Torrence was cast as Clopin the beggar king and leading man Norman Kerry was chosen to play Phoebus. Wallace Worsley, who had previously worked as a director with Chaney on four of his films (including The Penalty), was chosen to be the director. Rumor has it that Erich von Stroheim was the first choice for director, but he had been fired from Universal by this point.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923) Patsy Ruth Miller and Lon Chaney — Patsy Ruth Miller and Lon Chaney

The plot was changed quite a bit from Victor Hugo’s 1831 novel, partly to make it less grim and partly to keep from offending Christian sensibilities. The antagonist was changed from Archdeacon Claude Frollo to a new character called Jehan, the evil brother of a saintly archdeacon. Esmerelda isn’t hung at the end but is reunited with her love, Phoebus, while Quasimodo has a tragic end.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923) Lon Chaney as Quasimodo — Lon Chaney as Quasimodo

Production began with much fanfare, the studio boasting about its elaborate sets and “no expenses spared” mindset. Elmer F. Sheeley was in charge of set design, and Archie Hall was the technical director in charge of getting the sets solidly built. Sculptor Finn Froelich designed the statues, gargoyles, and other embellishments for the Notre Dame set. Old prints of Paris were poured over to create the sprawling, 19-acre complex of medieval streets, shops, and houses in Universal City, and of course the replica of the mighty Notre Dame itself took center stage. A feat of engineering and special effects, it was achieved by building the bottom sixty feet of the cathedral to scale, while the top half was actually a miniature hanging between the camera and the set in the background. The effect onscreen is seamless.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923) Cathedral — Image credit: *The American Cinematographer*

Authentic-looking paving stones were created with concrete sprayed with acid to make them look aged, and concrete arches were built over a portion of the Los Angeles River to turn it into the sewers of Paris. The painstaking work was much-admired by visitors to the sets, and trade papers touted them as one of the industry’s greatest achievements thus far.

One of the challenges of the productions was hiring thousands of extras (around 3,000 in all) for the crowd scenes, all of whom would have to be given costumes, daily pay, and meals. Many were recruited from the downtown Los Angeles area. A 125-foot wardrobe building was built to accommodate all the medieval garb, and supposedly some of the more visible extras were given their costumes a couple days early so they could get used to wearing them naturally. There was a definite desire to make the film seem authentic to its gritty period, rather than appearing “stagey” or overly romanticized.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923) Cathedral outside — Outside the Cathedral

All in all, Hunchback cost Universal a whopping $1,250,000 to produce. But fortunately the film was a megahit, ending up being the third highest-grossing film of 1923 just behind The Covered Wagon and The Ten Commandments. It generally received a good critical response as well, and while some reviews commented that the film was too dark, everyone praised Lon Chaney’s remarkable performance.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923) movie poster — *The Hunchback of Notre Dame* (1923) movie poster

Today, most prints of Hunchback that circulate stem from 16mm copies, some choppier than others, any original 35mm negatives having vanished long ago. Fortunately better restorations have come out in recent years, allowing us to enjoy this ambitious classic–and Lon Chaney’s landmark performance–in the most clarity in decades.

Note: The American Cinematographer article “A Silent Giant: 1923’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame” was a very helpful source for this month’s column.

…

–Lea Stans for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Lea’s Silents are Golden articles here.

Posted in Posts by Lea Stans, Silents are Golden | Tagged Carl Laemmle, erich von stroheim, Intolerance, irving thalberg, Lon Chaney, Metrolpolis, Norman Kerry, Patsy Ruth Miller, The Covered Wagon, the hunchback of notre dame, The Miracle Man, The Penalty, The Ten Commandments | Leave a comment

Monsters and Matinees: The Classic Connection of Warner Bros., Big Bugs and Hammer Horror

Posted on June 10, 2023 by Toni Ruberto

The Classic Connection of Warner Bros., Big Bugs and Hammer Horror

Gangster films, innovative musicals, hard-boiled detective movies and female-centered dramas. Porky Pig, Donald Duck, Bugs Bunny and Batman, too. That’s quite a distinct and diverse group of genres and characters that are part of the 100-year history of Warner Bros.

A word you don’t see in that impressive list? Horror.

Sure, the studio produced such noteworthy films as The Exorcist and The Shining, in addition to one of my favorites, the teen vampire flick The Lost Boys. But as a fan of classic horror movies, I was lacking a connection with Warner Bros. and the Golden Age of Hollywood.

I found it not in the number of classic horror films Warner Bros. made, but in its unique impact in the genre through innovation, the popular big-bug movies of the 1950s and spreading the gospel of Hammer horror.

Simply by distributing *The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms,* Warner Bros. played a surprising role in the horror genre.

Let me explain. It appropriately started with a film called The Terror.

Journey into Terror

Warner Bros. was officially incorporated in 1923 and a four-legged actor named Rin-Tin-Tin quickly leapt to stardom. Yet by 1926, Warner Bros. was having financial difficulty and only considered a second-rate studio behind the likes of Paramount, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and William Fox. So, it did what it would do throughout its history: it took a big gamble with technology. In 1927, moviegoers watching the studio’s “silent” film The Jazz Singer were shocked – and enthralled – when Al Jolson spoke the first words heard in film:“Wait a minute, wait a minute. You ain’t heard nothing yet.”

The following year Warner Bros. released the industry’s first all-talking movie Lights of New York. Two months later came The Terror, a horror film where guests at a British country inn were stalked by a killer called the Terror. Based off the 1927 play of the same name by Edgar Wallace, the film starred May McAvoy and Edward Everett Horton.

*The Terror* (1927) is notable for being the first horror film made by Warner Bros. and the first horror film by any studio to use sound.

What makes The Terror special for Warner Bros. is that it was the studio’s first horror film. What makes it important in film history is that it was the first horror movie to use sound.

That use of sound led to immense profits for Lights of New York and The Terror allowing Warner Bros. to purchase the Stanley Theatre chain and a majority stake in First National Pictures. It was now alongside the big boys as a major Hollywood player.

After purchasing First National, the studio’s first film was the silent drama/comedy The Haunted House (1928). As obvious from the title, this was an early entry in the popular old dark house mystery genre. Thelma Todd and Larry Kent starred in the story of heirs drawn to a mansion for the reading of will. The film had the wonderful horror mix of a mad scientist, secret rooms and crazy characters. It was directed by Benjamin Christensen who is best known for Häxan (1922), a documentary/feature which traces the history of witchcraft and is still shown today.

From sound to visual advances

Warner Bros. then turned an eye toward color innovations. Doctor X (1932) was the first horror film to be shot entirely in color, using the two-color Technicolor process. (It was also shot in black and white which is the way many people have seen it.) The film’s talented creative trio – actors Lionel Atwill and Fay Wray and director Michael Curtiz – returned for Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933). It was the last film made using the two-color Technicolor by a major studio before technology advanced to glorious three-strip Technicolor used by Warner Bros in films like The Adventures of Robin Hood. As superb as that is, the two-strip process had a unique muted beauty that gave Doctor X and Mystery of the Wax Museum a moody atmosphere that set the tone in a horror film.

The distinct beauty of two-color Technicolor is seen in *Mystery of the Wax Museum*.

Both were pre-Code films that went beyond murder to include such topics as rape, pornography and cannibalism. Doctor X also had a touch of humor thanks to Lee Tracy as a reporter investigating murders that took place under a full moon. Multiple suspects are investigated at a nearby medical academy run by Doctor Xavier (Atwill), where we also meet the his lovely young daughter Joanne (Wray).

In Mystery of the Wax Museum, Atwill is a talented sculptor disfigured in a wax museum fire set by his partner for insurance money. He reappears more than a decade later with a new museum inhabited by his gorgeous wax figures that look uncomfortably real. The film was called “too ghastly for comfort” in a 1933 review by Mordaunt Hall of The New York Times, which I consider high praise.

Horror fans will recognize the same story in the fantastic 1953 Warner Bros. film House of Wax starring Vincent Price in the Atwill role. Keeping with the Warner Bros. philosophy of bringing modern advances to its audiences, it was the first film produced in 3D by a major studio. Even watching the film at home today, we can pick out scenes shot for 3D effectiveness like the bouncing paddle ball.

Getting films be seen

Beyond making movies, studios distribute films and sometimes for other studios as Warner Bros. did as part of its contribution to classic horror.

Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953) is an important film in horror and sci-fi. It brought stop-motion animation master Ray Harryhausen out of the shadows and into the spotlight. It also was the first of the atomic creature films with Harryhausen’s impressive fictional Rhedosaurus awakened by A-bomb testing and rumbling off to terrorize the East Coast.

With the help of major distribution it received from Warner Bros., Beast from 20,000 Fathoms became a surprise financial hit and helped create two popular horror genres: the tag team of giant monsters/nuclear testing (this includes Godzilla movies that are still part of the WB repertoire) and big-bug films. After all, if a dinosaur running amok was popular with audiences, wouldn’t multiple giant ants be even better? That’s what Warner Bros. thought.

After the success Warner Bros. had with *Beast from 20,000 Fathoms*, it made the giant ant film *Them!* It was a huge financial success in 1954 and is still called the best of the big-bug movies.

In Them!, James Arness and James Whitmore led the charge against giant ants that terrorized the country. It became the highest grossing film of 1954 for Warner Bros., yet the studio didn’t continue with the trend, instead concentrating on such Cinemascope films as King Richard and the Crusaders and A Star is Born. Thankfully other studios followed the Warner Bros lead and jumped on the big-bug bandwagon, giving us such classics as It Came from Beneath the Sea, The Giant Behemoth and Tarantula. .

[To read more about big-bug movies, see my Classic Movie Hub column:All bug-eyed over big-bug movies.

Hammer films

The studio’s influence on film history when it came to distributing the work of other students didn’t stop there.

We think of Hammer Films for its delectable array of horror movies in the 1950s and beyond. But without the help of U.S. studios including Warner Bros., American audiences may never have seen these films or at the very least, seen enough of them to make the House of Hammer the horror giant it is in film history.

At least nine U.S. studios were involved with distributing Hammer films including Columbia, Universal, United Artists, MGM, Twentieth Century-Fox and Warner Bros.

*The Curse of Frankenstein* with Christopher Lee gained U.S. distribution through Warner Bros.

A huge moment in the partnership between Warner Bros. and Hammer was the worldwide distribution in 1957 of the Christopher Lee-Peter Cushing film The Curse of Frankenstein. It changed everything for Hammer as author Howard Maxford sums up in his book Hammer, House of Horror:

“Warner would also give Frankenstein the kind of promotional campaign Hammer could only dream of affording. Consequently, when the film opened at the Warner Bros. Theatre in London’s West End on May 2, 1957, the lines stretched round the block, despite an almost universally hostile reaction from the press,” Maxford writes.

While the U.S. studios helped get Hammer out to the world, it remained a tumultuous time of feast or famine when it came to this support. In 1968, Hammer was without a U.S. distributor and again facing financial problems. The timely merger that created Warner Bros.-Seven Arts saved the day starting with Dracula Has Risen from the Grave (1968), the fourth in Hammer’s Dracula series.

Though that merger only last about two years, Warner Bros. distributed and even produced more films for Hammer. Other films included Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969), Moon Zero Two (1969), Taste the Blood of Dracula (1970), Crescendo (1970), and When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth (1970), Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972), The Satanic Rights of Dracula (1973) and The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (1974).

However, Warner Brothers also held the rights to these films and was, to say the least, very slow in putting them on home video. Even then, the movies were released without any bonus material. That’s one reason for the 2018 documentary Hammer Horror: The Warner Brothers Years which traces the important relationship between Warner and Hammer from the brief, but important, period of 1968 to 1974, while also giving fans the interviews and background information they craved.

In retrospect

Warner Bros. may not have produced a large number of classic horror films, but when it did, it was with creativity and innovation. And at the very least, this big-bug film fan is grateful for Them! and all the oversized creatures that followed.

– Toni Ruberto for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Toni’s Monsters and Matinees articles here.

Toni Ruberto, born and raised in Buffalo, N.Y., is an editor and writer at The Buffalo News. She shares her love for classic movies in her blog, Watching Forever and is a member of the Classic Movie Blog Association. Toni was the president of the former Buffalo chapter of TCM Backlot and the offshoot group, Buffalo Classic Movie Buffs. She is proud to have put Buffalo and its glorious old movie palaces in the spotlight as the inaugural winner of the TCM in Your Hometown contest. You can find Toni on Twitter at @toniruberto.