Western RoundUp: Final Resting Places, Western Filmmakers
In this month’s Western RoundUp column we’ll return to the topic of the final resting places of Western filmmakers, visiting the gravesites of 13 actors, actresses, and directors.
We’ll start in the little town of Marysvale, Utah, where
widely admired actress Marie Windsor is buried in her hometown. She’s interred
along with her husband, former USC basketball star Rodney Hupp; her gravestone
includes both her birth name and her stage name.
My husband and I were fortunate to be able to make a stop
in Marysvale on a road trip through Utah last year. Marie Windsor was in
several Westerns over the course of her career, with one of the best
being Hellfire (1949) opposite Bill Elliott.
Marie Windsor (1919 – 2000)
Returning to California, here is the gravesite of Fritz Lang, who directed a Western I reviewed here very recently, Rancho Notorious (1952). Lang also directed the Westerns The Return of Frank James (1940) and Western Union (1941). He’s buried at Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills.
Fritz Lang (1890 – 1976)
Another director buried at Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills is
George Stevens, director of the classic Shane (1953). Stevens
also directed Barbara Stanwyck as Annie Oakley (1935).
George Stevens (1904 – 1975)
The star of Shane, Alan Ladd, is interred in a mausoleum at Forest Lawn Glendale. He’s surrounded by several other stars, including Nat King Cole, Clara Bow, Jeanette MacDonald, and George Burns and Gracie Allen. Ladd’s other Westerns included Whispering Smith (1948), The Big Land (1957), and The Proud Rebel (1958), which I wrote about here in 2020.
Alan Ladd (1913 – 1964)
Mona Freeman, who starred opposite Alan Ladd in the
Western Branded (1950), is at Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills. She
also appeared with William Holden and Macdonald Carey in Streets of
Laredo (1949); other Westerns included Copper Canyon (1950)
and The Lady From Texas (1951). Off the screen Freeman was an
artist whose best-known work is the portrait of Mary See which hangs in all
See’s Candies shops.
Mona Freeman (1926 – 2014)
Macdonald Carey, who appeared in Streets of Laredo and Copper Canyon with Mona Freeman, is at Holy Cross Cemetery in Culver City, California. I particularly admire his charismatic villain in Copper Canyon. Carey’s long film career included films such as Alfred Hitchcock’s Shadow of a Doubt (1943), but he is ultimately best remembered as the longtime star of the soap opera Days of Our Lives.
Macdonald Carey (1913 – 1994)
’30s “B” Western star Bob Steele, who went on to
play bit parts in many later Westerns, is at Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills under
his birth name, Robert N. Bradbury. He’s interred with the remains of his twin
brother Bill and his sister-in-law. The boys’ father, also named Robert
Bradbury, was a “B” Western director.
Bob Steele (birthname Robert N. Bradbury) (1907 – 1989)
Gail Davis, buried at Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills, starred
as TV’s Annie Oakley and was a frequent leading lady in Gene Autry
Westerns. In 2004 she was posthumously inducted into the National Cowgirl
Museum and Hall of Fame in Texas.
Gail Davis (1925 – 1997)
Also at Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills is Lynne Roberts, who
appeared in Westerns opposite numerous stars, including Gene Autry, Roy Rogers,
Tim Holt, and George Montgomery, to name just a few. In some of her early films
she was billed as Mary Hart.
Lynne Roberts (1922 – 1978)
“B” Western actor-singer Eddie Dean is at Valley
Oaks Memorial Park in Westlake Village, California. Dean was born Edgar Dean
Glosup, hence the unfamiliar name across the top of the gravestone. He
appeared in films for about a decade, beginning in the late ’30s.
Eddie Dean (1907 – 1999)
Another “B” Western actor-singer, Jimmy Wakely,
is at Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills. In addition to many “B” Westerns,
he sang in the very good Arrow in the Dust (1954) with
Sterling Hayden and Coleen Gray. Besides Wakely’s work in Westerns, his duet of
“Silver Bells” with Margaret Whiting is still heard often at
Christmastime.
Jimmy Wakely (1914 – 1982)
Actress-Singer Julie London is perhaps best remembered
today for her role on TV’s Emergency!, but she starred in a number
of Westerns, including Saddle the Wind (1958) with Robert
Taylor, Man of the West (1958) with Gary Cooper, and The
Wonderful Country (1959) with Robert Mitchum. She’s at Forest Lawn
Hollywood Hills along with her multitalented husband — and Emergency! costar
— Bobby Troup.
Julie London (1926 – 2000)
One of my favorite actors, Tyrone Power, starred in a few
Westerns, including Jesse James (1939) and Rawhide (1951).
He was said to be a popular figure when filming Westerns in Lone Pine,
California, where he was friendly to all and known to occasionally get behind a
bar and pour out drinks. He passed on far too young and has this impressive
burial site at Hollywood Forever Cemetery.
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.
Silents are Golden: What Were the Top Box Office Hits Of 1923?
Recently I attended the Kansas Silent Film Festival (and yes, that is my plug for that delightful–and free–event!) where the theme was the silent films of 1923. It got me pondering: what were the highest-grossing films from exactly one century ago? I could make an educated guess about the top two or three, but could I put together a top ten list?
It’s a trickier task than you might think.
Silent film box office statistics are notoriously difficult to figure out in
detail since the numerous movie theaters
of the time didn’t have to report detailed bookkeeping numbers. Theaters
normally paid a flat fee to rent a film (often around 10 cents per foot) and
then played it as many times as they liked. Films tended to be distributed on a
state’s rights basis, meaning there were various companies that simply doled
out completed films to different regions. Plus, prestigious, big-budget films
were sometimes given a roadshow presentation, where they had a limited release
in the fancier theaters (with higher ticket prices to match) before being
distributed more widely. Most box office statistics from the 1910s and 1920s
depend a lot on educated guesswork–and the admission, “Well, we can’t know for
sure.”
So let’s compare different figures and see if
we can come up with a list that’s maybe pretty
close to being on the right track. Just don’t take the figures as gospel–and
did I mention that sometimes “worldwide grosses” get lumped in with “U.S. and
Canadian grosses”?
Buster Keaton’s second feature-length comedy and first period piece was a popular and critical hit. It was set in the 1830s American South and based on the story of the Hatfields and McCoys. Its success proved that Keaton was not only an exceptional comedian, but an exceptional filmmaker too.
This drama was based on the famous, somewhat humorless novel by Sinclair Lewis, about a librarian who moves with her husband to the small, humble town where he grew up. It starred Florence Vidor and Monte Blue and was also the first film released by Warner Bros. after it was incorporated in April of 1923. It’s now considered a lost film.
Carl Miller and Edna Purviance in A Woman of Paris (1923)
This was an oddity of sorts in the Charlie Chaplin directorial canon, being a serious drama where he doesn’t even appear (except for a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameo). It’s beautifully filmed and did respectably well, but it’s not hard to suspect that many people saw it out of curiosity.
Starring the lovely Lillian Gish and the dashing Ronald Colman, this romantic film was made on location in Rome and Naples. Ms. Gish had a say in much of its planning and production. She was also very drawn to accurately recreating the Catholic ceremony of nuns “taking the veil,” which had never been shown on screen before. The Catholic Church served as an advisor, ensuring these scenes would be done reverently.
Alice Terry and Ramon Novarro in Scaramouche (1923)
Rex Ingram’s popular swashbuckler was reportedly an expensive, difficult production that had frequent delays. Fortunately its popularity helped make up for it, no doubt partly due to its fine cast, including Alice Terry, Lewis Stone and the handsome Hispanic actor, Ramon Novarro.
This nailbiter of a comedy was a big hit for Harold Lloyd, who famously performed much of the stunt work himself (the main set for the climbing scene was actually on a building’s roof, although close enough to the edge to give the illusion of hanging in space). Still a classic today, everyone’s seen that famous still of the bespectacled Harold dangling from a huge clock, if anything.
Elizabeth Murray, Harry Watson and Marion Davies in Little Old New York (1923)
There’s differing opinions on where exactly this Marion Davies feature should be placed on this list, but it was definitely a high grosser–enough for Hollywood to declare the talented Ms. Davies the #1 female star of 1923. Set in 1800s New York City, it revolved around Marion’s character disguising herself as a boy in order to claim a rightful inheritance for her family.
Lon Chaney was a shoo-in for the role of Quasimodo, which involved a sizable amount of the grotesque makeup, prosthetics, and difficult body language that he excelled at. The elaborate sets recreating the exterior of Notre Dame and its surrounding medieval streets took six months to build. Happily the film was a huge success, and Chaney’s performance is considered legendary even today.
A massive hit at the time, this is regarded as
the first great Western epic. It followed the journey of a wagon train during
the great westward expansion of the 19th century, with all its attendant
adventures and hardships. Interestingly, the many covered wagons used in the
filming weren’t replicas, but actual heirlooms owned by the families of former
pioneers.
And the number one biggest blockbuster of 1923 is… Cecil B. DeMille’s first version of The Ten Commandments. Most people today are very familiar with the 1956 Charlton Heston version, and know little about the original silent – if they’re aware it exists at all. Differing in many ways from the Heston version, much of the Exodus story is contained in a long “prologue,” with a modern story being the focus of the second half of the film. The Exodus scenes were filmed in the sand dunes of Santa Barbara county where DeMille built the giant set of the gates of Rameses. Rumor had it that he had the sets destroyed and buried after filming, to keep rivals from using it for other films. Decades later, remains of the sets were indeed discovered in the sand.
I hope you enjoyed this breakdown of some of the blockbusters of 1923! It may be an educated guess – except for the undeniable popularity of the top three – but it’s sure interesting to see what made audiences flock to the theaters a full century ago.
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.
The days are getting longer, the flowers are starting to bud… and it’s a great time for a list! (No, there’s no real connection, but still – what a great time for a list, am I right?)
This month’s Noir Nook takes a look at some of my favorite
bad boys. The fatal femmes are no strangers to the spotlight, so I thought it
was time to give the nods to the fatal fellas (if you will). Let me know if
some of the dudes you love to hate made the list!
Richard Widmark and Mildred Dunnock in Kiss of Death (1947)
When small-time thief Nick Bianco (Victor Mature) is nabbed after a botched robbery, he refuses to drop a dime on his buddies and goes to prison, leaving his wife and two small girls behind. But he doesn’t hesitate to rate on his pals after his wife commits suicide and his daughters wind up in an orphanage. Bianco is later released on the condition that he continue to work with authorities as a “stool pigeon” – but after remarrying and settling down with his new family, he finds that they’re in jeopardy when they’re targeted by one of guys Bianco fingered: Tommy Udo.
Udo is an undeniable psychopath; this is the guy who
famously ties an invalid to her wheelchair and sends her careening down a
flight of stairs, delivering his trademark maniacal giggle as he prepares to
end her life. There’s not a single scene featuring this character that doesn’t
make you more than a little uncomfortable – and grateful that you’re not the
one sitting across from him.
Favorite quote: “You know what I do to squealers? I let ‘em have it in the belly. So they can roll around for a long time, thinkin’ it over.”
Richard Conte and Cornel Wilde in The Big Combo (1955)
Police detective Leonard Diamond (Cornel Wilde) is obsessed with nabbing local kingpin, Mr. Brown, who he suspects of murder. Diamond is not only obsessed with bringing Brown to justice, but he also has eyes for Brown’s girlfriend, Susan Lowell (Wilde’s then-wife Jean Wallace). Brown seems untouchable, but as the authorities close in, he proves that nobody is expendable in his resolve to remain free.
Brown is cooler than the other side of the pillow – and heartless as a stone. He treats his right-hand man (Brian Donlevy) with contempt and his henchmen (Earl Holliman and Lee Van Cleef) as disposable tools. His only soft spot seems to be Susan, but don’t let this fool you. For Mr. Brown, Susan is merely a trophy – something he owns and is determined to keep.
Favorite quote: “Joe, tell the man I’m gonna break him so fast, he won’t have time to change his pants. Tell him the next time I see him, he’ll be in the lobby of the hotel, crying like a baby and asking for a ten dollar loan. Tell him that. And tell him I don’t break my word.”
The aptly named Sam Wild commits a double murder in Reno after finding his sometime girlfriend (Isabel Jewell) on a date with another fella, then hightails it to San Francisco (on the advice of his wise and loyal BFF, played by Elisha Cook, Jr.). On the way, he meets and falls for newly divorced Helen Trent (Claire Trevor). What he doesn’t know is that Helen discovered the bodies. And what he’s soon to find out is that Helen doesn’t care that he’s the murderer. But she will.
This Sam Wild is one scary, but fascinating, dude. He’s the
kind of guy who doesn’t shy away from homicide, but he’s also an ambitious social
climber who marries Helen’s wealthy foster sister (Audrey Long), then insists on
taking over the family newspaper business. This is a guy who wants to BE
somebody.
Favorite quote: “We’ll not only be rolling in dough, but marrying into this crowd’ll fix it so as I can… spit in anybody’s eye.”
Joan Crawford and Jack Palance in Sudden Fear (1952)
Following an unusual meet-cute (that’s really not so cute), and a whirlwind romance, playwright and heiress Myra Hudson (Joan Crawford) marries actor Lester Blaine and settles down with her new hubby for a life filled with love and luxury. She didn’t reckon on a little monkey wrench in the form of Lester’s former lover, Irene Neves (Gloria Grahame). And when Lester and Irene get their heads together, it spells murder for lovestruck Myra.
I find Blaine to be a particularly unlikable character,
who’s as transparent as a pane of glass. His charm and seeming devotion to Myra
can’t be denied, but I can’t say I was exactly shocked to learn that his wife’s
primary allure was her bank account. Nor was I surprised when he proved that
he’d do anything (and I mean ANYTHING) to keep his hands on it.
Favorite quote: “I’ve got to think fast. Got to think of a nice, foolproof little accident.”
Frank Lovejoy, William Talman and Edmund O’Brien in The Hitchhiker (1953)
Two buddies, Roy Collins and Gilbert Bowen (Edmund O’Brien and Frank Lovejoy), off on a weekend fishing trip, get more than they bargain for when they pick up a hitchhiker along the side of the road. It turns out that their passenger is one Emmet Myers, who has recently escaped from prison, is in the midst of a killing spree, and has no qualms about adding Collins and Bowen to his roster.
Myers is the kind of killer who leaves you with a sense of
utter defeat; he’s equipped with a frightening countenance and an attitude which
makes it clear that your life means less to him than a stray pebble on the
highway. But worst of all, he has a peculiar affliction that allows him to
literally sleep with one eye open. What chance do you have?
Favorite quote: “Nobody ever gave me anything. So I don’t owe nobody. My folks were tough. When I was born, they took one look at this puss of mine and told me to get lost. Well, I didn’t need ‘em. I didn’t need any of ‘em. Got what I wanted my own way.”
– William Talman as Emmet Myers
…..
Next month’s Noir Nook will feature the second half of my Top 10 Bad Boys. Hope you’ll join me!
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– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub
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:
This month we’ll return
to the subject of the Earps and the Clantons with a look at Tombstone (1993)
starring Kurt Russell as the famed lawman Wyatt Earp.
Wyatt’s brothers, Virgil and Morgan, are played by Sam Elliott and Bill Paxton, with Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday.
This was my first
viewing of Tombstone, which I’d frankly avoided in part due to my
concern about the level of violence, given the R rating. And truth to tell,
based on the advice of those who know my tastes, I didn’t watch the first few
opening minutes of mayhem; instead I began the film at the point when Wyatt
Earp arrives in Tombstone, Arizona. I’m glad my curiosity finally got the
better of me, as I enjoyed the movie.
Tombstone covers much of the same ground as other
films on Wyatt Earp and his brothers, including not only the famous gunfight
but key events which follow. Part of what’s interesting about the Earp movies
is what the individual films choose to include and their varied styles; each
film has unique aspects while covering familiar ground.
Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday and Kurt Russell as Wyatt Earp
The placement of the OK Corral gunfight in various narratives is especially interesting. In John Ford‘s My Darling Clementine (1946), the gun battle provides the climax of the movie, while Hour of the Gun takes a completely different approach: It’s how the movie begins!
In Tombstone the
movie splits the difference and places the gunfight roughly halfway through the
film’s 130-minute running time.
I found Tombstone a
strong and memorable film which has numerous classic moments. I would not call
the film itself a classic, for reasons I’ll go into below, but it’s a well-made
film with much to recommend it.
Tombstone begins with the Earp brothers and their
wives reuniting in Tombstone. Wyatt has retired from being a lawman, and the
brothers intend to live quieter lives. But despite Wyatt’s protestations that
he’s done with the law, he can’t resist the challenge of helping a saloon owner
eject an unwanted faro dealer from his business.
Dana Delany as Josephine Marcus in Tombstone (1993)
The Earps make money in Tombstone, and in their free time they also enjoy watching a theatrical troupe whose players include Josephine Marcus (Dana Delany) and Fabian (Billy Zane). However, Tombstone is a wild town, and the murder of the town marshal (Harry Carey Jr.) by Curly Bill Brocius (Powers Boothe) is but one reminder.
Eventually Virgil feels
guilty about ignoring the plight of the townspeople at the hands of the
Cowboys, a violent gang which includes the Clanton family; he accepts a job as
marshal, which ultimately leads all three brothers and Wyatt’s good friend Doc
Holliday to the gunfight.
As depicted in some of
the other films on Earp lore which continue past the OK Corral, there is later
retribution by the Cowboys against Wyatt’s brothers, followed by Wyatt and Doc
hunting down the remaining members of the gang.
One of the things I
liked best about Tombstone is the way it pulls together
different bits and pieces of lore from past films; it’s natural that there’s
repetition of story elements, but some of the moments almost seem like tributes
to films which have gone before.
Kurt Russell, Paula Malcomson, Dana Wheeler-Nicholson, Lisa Collins, Sam Elliott, and Bill Paxton
In particular, there’s a dancing theme with Wyatt and Josephine which of course calls to mind Henry Fonda and Cathy Downs‘ dance in My Darling Clementine; the Shakespearean actor and even one of the Earps sitting with his boots up on a fence also conjure up memories of the Ford classic.
The depiction of the point-blank shootout made me think of Tombstone: The Town Too Tough to Die, while the dead men in glassed-in caskets called to mind a scene Samuel Fuller‘s Earp-inspired Forty Guns (1957), which I wrote about here last year. Wyatt’s visits to the ill Doc at the sanitarium near movie’s end were strongly reminiscent of Hour of the Gun.
The film’s atmosphere is also greatly aided by its use of some of the great “faces” of Westerns past, including the previously mentioned Carey. Names like Pedro Armendariz Jr., Chris Mitchum, Don Collier, Buck Taylor, and Gary Clarke are threaded throughout the film in tiny roles, with the film itself narrated by Robert Mitchum.
Charlton Heston as Henry Hooker
Even Charlton Heston randomly shows up in a couple of scenes, though while he’s great, his appearance is a bit inexplicable. Heston’s memoir In the Arena, published shortly after Tombstone‘s release, offers no insight. I suspect there’s a story there worthy of future research having to do with the film changing directors while in production.
Kilmer rightly receives
acclaim for his off-kilter performance as Doc Holliday; indeed, the fateful
moment where he winks his eye at the OK Corral is perhaps the movie’s greatest
moment, as Wyatt sees the resulting change in expression of their opponents and
realizes what’s about to go down. It’s a real “Whoaaaa!” moment which
makes the viewer sit up and take notice.
Russell is excellent playing a conflicted Wyatt, who warns his brothers killing someone won’t feel like they expect. And as a Sam Elliott fan from way back, I also loved him in a fairly large role as Virgil, though sadly a bit of the light goes out of the movie when he gets on the train for California about two-thirds of the way into the film.
Val Kilmer, Kurt Russell, Bill Paxton, and Sam Elliott
And that’s really part of the movie’s overall problem, as the strong narrative structure falls apart a little in the last third or so of the film. At that juncture, Wyatt’s brothers are dead or gone, and, like Hour of the Gun, Wyatt and Doc spend the rest of the film hunting down the villains, periodically interrupted by moving scenes with the dying Doc.
Frankly it gets a bit
tedious watching men riding around having gun battles, and the movie is a good
ten minutes too long, punctuated with the occasional moments of brilliance,
such as “Thanks for always being there, Doc.”
The film is quite modern
in its “elliptical” storytelling, where we join the film mid-story
and not everything is spelled out. Though it’s the current style, it’s also a
bit problematic, as we’re left to ponder many questions for ourselves, such as
why the brothers, as would-be settlers, don’t have a child among them, and
there’s also a curious comment about where they “found” their wives.
Indeed, the brothers
seem “betwixt and between” two worlds, often representing the law yet
working in a rowdy gambling house; they’re married yet not precisely
“family” men, and their wives are of questionable backgrounds.
Dana Wheeler-Nicholson, Kurt Russell, Paula Malcomson, Sam Elliott, Lisa Collins, and Bill Paxton
We also wonder about the
disappearance of Doc’s girlfriend Kate (Joanna Pacula), and Wyatt’s abandonment
of his laudanum-addicted wife Mattie (Dana Wheeler-Nicholson) also receives
short shrift. He puts Mattie on the train to California with Virgil, Allie
(Paula Malcomson), and Louisa (Lisa Collins), and that’s the end of that.
An end card mentions
Mattie’s fate, though it doesn’t clarify exactly when it happens in conjunction
to Wyatt beginning his relationship with Josephine.
Let’s just say I spent
quite a while on Google after movie’s end trying to fill in the blanks. Again,
that’s both a blessing and a curse, as I love when a film causes me to delve
deeper into history, but there was an awful lot of time focused on men riding around
shooting guns that could have instead been better spent on more character
development.
That said, it was
fascinating to learn of some unexpected things in the film which were actual
history, rather than screenwriter Kevin Jarre’s creation, including the wounded
Virgil telling his wife Allie not to worry, that he still had a good arm to hold
her.
Val Kilmer, Sam Elliott, Kurt Russell, and Bill Paxton
The film was directed by
George P. Cosmatos, with writer Jarre doing uncredited direction of Heston’s
scenes. The movie was filmed by William A. Fraker and scored by Bruce Broughton
(Silverado).
The excellent cast also
includes Billy Bob Thornton, Jason Priestley, John Corbett, Jon Tenney, Michael
Biehn, Thomas Haden Church, Stephen Lang, and Frank Stallone.
The year after Tombstone was released, Kevin Costner starred in the title role in Wyatt Earp (1994), which I plan to review here at a future date along with Gunfight at the O.K. Corral (1957).
…
– 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.
Silver Screen Standards: Ruby Keeler in 42nd Street (1933)
Every time I watch 42nd Street (1933) I fall in love with Ruby Keeler all over again. Just like Peggy Sawyer, the character she plays in the movie, Keeler was a bright newcomer getting her big break; although she had been dancing on stage since she was barely a teenager, she was a new face in Hollywood, just getting started in films after marrying the much older Al Jolson. In 42nd Street, she appears in a veritable mob of Hollywood stars, but she still manages to shine brightly enough to attract our attention, even with roguish charmers like Ginger Rogers and Una Merkel hamming it up. She might not be the greatest singer or even the most talented tap dancer, as she herself admitted, but Ruby Keeler is the sweetheart soul of 42nd Street, the youngster destined to be a star.
Peggy makes her debut in Pretty Lady not as an anonymous chorus girl but as the leading lady of the show.
Keeler’s character, Peggy, strikes it lucky when she arrives at the casting call for Pretty Lady and makes some important new friends. First, she meets juvenile star Billy Lawler (Dick Powell), who takes a shine to her right away. Experienced chorus girls Ann (Ginger Rogers) and Lorraine (Una Merkel) help Peggy make it through the first cuts, and she eventually lands a spot in the chorus, where she rehearses to exhaustion for obsessive director Julian Marsh (Warner Baxter). Peggy also becomes an accidental participant in the romantic difficulties of vaudeville performer Pat Denning (George Brent), whose former partner and girlfriend Dorothy Brock (Bebe Daniels) has the starring role in Marsh’s show thanks to her current wealthy benefactor (Guy Kibbee). When a drunken Dorothy becomes jealous of Peggy’s friendship with Pat, their confrontation has dramatic consequences for both of them, which culminates in Marsh’s iconic speech, “You’re going out a youngster, but you’ve got to come back a star!”
Busby Berkeley’s choreography makes the most of eye-popping optics and prurient imagery as only a pre-Code musical can.
Along with costar Dick Powell, Keeler represents the plucky but innocent aspect of Depression Era America, a necessary reminder to the downtrodden not to lose hope in spite of widespread suffering. They might seem a bit too saccharine for some modern viewers, but their sweetness is an important part of the mix that makes up the whole of the early 30s Hollywood musical. As a Pre-Code picture, 42nd Street gets away with plenty of innuendo and exposed female flesh, but Peggy and Billy balance that element with a friendship that grows into chaste romance. Ironically, it’s Billy who is caught in his underwear at their first meeting, a nice counterpoint to the scores of scantily clad chorus girls who appear throughout the picture. Peggy has sexually charged encounters with other men, but neither of them amounts to much. Pat Denning seems drawn to her in spite of his relationship with Dorothy, and Julian Marsh kisses her in order to inspire her to perform a scene properly (also perhaps to mark the character as heterosexual because he was originally depicted as gay in Bradford Ropes’ 1932 novel). With her slim, clean figure and doe-eyed face, Keeler is the quintessential ingénue, but the more experienced characters support and protect her rather than tear her apart. Even Dorothy, the star whose place Peggy takes, shows up to encourage her on opening night. It might seem strange, but it has the same value as the kindness inevitably shown to a Shirley Temple heroine; in a ragged world of poverty and strife, people want to see something untarnished and pure survive. Keeler is so appealing that we understand the other characters’ reaction to her; she radiates a particular kind of star power, a soft but unadulterated light.
Despite the romantic mood, the relationship between Peggy and Pat Denning (George Brent) turns out to be mere friendship.
Ruby Keeler’s career depended on roles that made the most of that luminous quality, which limited her options, and after her divorce from Al Jolson in 1939 she made very few appearances in films. In the wake of the financial success of 42nd Street, however, there was a brief wave of great Ruby Keeler musicals: Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933), Footlight Parade (1933), and Dames (1934). All of them costar Dick Powell, with whom Keeler would make seven pictures for Warner Bros. Other members of the cast also return for some of the later productions, including Ginger Rogers, Guy Kibbee, and Ned Sparks, although Footlight Parade is particularly notable for adding James Cagney in a leading role and reuniting Keeler with 42nd Street director Lloyd Bacon. Each of them offers a similar mix of showbiz life, musical numbers, comedy, and romance. The later Gold Diggers movies, Gold Diggers of 1935 (1935) and Gold Diggers of 1937 (1937), repeat the same formula with Dick Powell continuing to star but Keeler no longer appearing. She made only one movie with Al Jolson, Go into Your Dance (1935), but her other films with Powell include Flirtation Walk (1934), Shipmates Forever (1935), and Colleen (1936). After Sweetheart of the Campus in 1941, Keeler disappeared from the movies; she remarried in 1941 and settled down to raise four children with her second husband, John Homer Lowe, in addition to the son she had adopted while married to Jolson. Her marriage to Jolson ended so badly that Keeler refused to let her name be used in the 1946 biopic, The Jolson Story, which replaces her with a fictionalized character named Julie Benson (played by Evelyn Keyes).
Peggy (Ruby Keeler) gets an assist from chorus girls Lorraine (Una Merkel) and Ann (Ginger Rogers).
Keeler’s filmography might lack the breadth and depth of Hollywood legends like Bette Davis or Katharine Hepburn, and her early costar Ginger Rogers had a much longer and more varied career, but there’s something about her that always gets to me. Her best musicals from the early 30s are a sure-fire tonic for whatever ails me, and 42nd Street is the movie that first shared her sweetness and light with the world. She really did come back from that outing a star, and she still shines brightly whenever I make a return trip to the bawdy, gaudy backstage world of 42nd Street.
As a huge classic movie fan, I find myself counting the days until the TCM Classic Film Festival that takes place in Hollywood every spring — for us fans it’s like the movie version of Woodstock. I’ve attended every festival since it began in 2010, and have gotten the chance to hear from so many of the greats, including people like Angela Lansbury Kirk Douglas, Jane Powell, Julie Andrews, Christopher Plummer, Maureen O’Hara, Debbie Reynolds, Liza Minnelli, Tony Curtis, Pam Grier, Faye Dunaway, Kim Novak, Mel Brooks, Barbara Rush, Luise Rainer, Dustin Hoffman, Sophia Loren, Mickey Rooney, Nancy Kwan, Betty Garrett, Esther Williams, Warren Beatty, Tippi Hedren, Burt Reynolds, Leslie Caron and so many others including directors Stanley Donen, Martin Scorsese, and William Friedkin. That list is just off the top of my head, I’m sure I’m leaving out dozens of my favorites who have attended the festival, many of them no longer with us. Fans come from all over the world to attend this spectacular event which this year begins on Thursday, April 13th, with the world premiere restoration of Howard Hawks’ 1959 film Rio Bravo. One of the film’s stars, Angie Dickinson, will be in attendance at the gala opening at the world-famous Chinese Theater on Hollywood Boulevard along with Steven Spielberg and Paul Thomas Anderson who will be talking about the important work of the Film Foundation that saves so many of these classic movies.
Eddie Muller & Dave Karger
There will be over 80 films and presentations at this year’s festival which lasts until Sunday, many of them running concurrently at several different theaters in Hollywood so festivalgoers are forced to make many difficult choices over the course of the four days. In preparation for Thursday’s opening, I had a great time talking to two of my favorite TCM hosts this week, the “Czar of Noir,” Eddie Muller, and Dave Karger, about what they’re most looking forward to.
Danny Miller: It’s kind of ridiculous how much I look forward to the festival all year long. I’m part of a Facebook group related to the fest and we talk about it for months beforehand, as soon as the first little bits of info are released. As longtime TCM hosts, do you get a say in the program? Do you share your wish lists with Charlie Tabesh and the other people planning the festival?
Eddie Muller: Putting this festival together is very tricky because you have to take so many different factors into account. Producing my own Noir City festival around the country, I know how difficult it is to balance everything. But yes, I make suggestions to Charlie all year long and then we see if they fit the theme or need to be saved for later. Over the years, Charlie has been very accommodating to my suggestions!
Dave Karger: Charlie and the people on the programming team are the real geniuses of the festival. My favorite part comes after the lineup is settled. They invite us to let them know who we would love to interview and which films we want to introduce. It’s so fun to see the schedule take shape and figure out who I’m going to talk to — and I have some really exciting people that I get to interview this year!
Who’s on your docket?
Well, you know I’m a big musical guy, I absolutely love musicals, so you can imagine how thrilled I am that I’m going to be interviewing Ann-Margret on Saturday at the Bye Bye Birdie screening.
Ooh, lucky! But don’t remind me of the nightmare choice we all have to make during that time slot because it’s at the same time as Crossing Delancey, which I also love, being introduced by Amy Irving and Peter Riegert.
Oh, I know, these choices are so difficult! I’m also going to talk to Shirley Jones after The Music Man.
Wow, classic movie musical royalty!
And there’s going to be a little bit of a surprise during that interview, but I can’t tell you what it is.
Oh my — I’m imagining Ron Howard coming out and singing “The Wells Fargo Wagon” with his big sister, Shirley Jones?
Haha, I can neither confirm nor deny! Also, I’m really excited that I get to interview Frankie Avalon before the poolside 60th anniversary screening of Beach Party on Friday night. As someone who was five years old when Grease came out, I am beyond thrilled, and I feel like Didi Conn about to talk to Teen Angel during “Beauty School Dropout.” It kind of blows my mind, I’m going to try very hard not to dork out with Frankie!
What films are you looking forward to introducing, Eddie?
Well, of course I’m introducing a couple of great noir films such as The Killers and Sorry, Wrong Number, and I love those movies, but I also love getting out of my usual niche at the festival, it’s such a fun opportunity to do that. I’m very excited about introducing a 70mm print of Sam Peckinpah’s The Wild Bunch and a restored 75th anniversary version of Powell & Pressburger’s gorgeous The Red Shoes.
Oh, fun. I look forward to having the spectacular Technicolor of The Red Shoes hurt my eyes, I love that movie.
And I’m very happy to be presenting Joan Micklin Silver’s Crossing Delancey and to talk to Amy Irving and Peter Riegert, who don’t do this kind of thing very much.
Ann-Margret in Bye Bye Birdie, Amy Irving, and Peter Riegert in Crossing Delancey
Oh God, that choice again! I worship both Bye Bye Birdie and Crossing Delancey and I think because I’ve already seen Ann-Margret talk about the former at an Academy screening, I’ll have to head to Delancey. Sorry, Dave!
Dave Karger: Don’t worry, I understand! Some of these choices are impossible!
Eddie Muller: I’m really looking forward to talking to Amy and Peter. It’s a little weird because I just happen to be very good friends with Peter Riegert’s wife so I’ve met him but have never talked about this film with him.
I always tell everyone, “Marry the Pickle Man!” I was hoping that they’d show a double feature of Crossing Delancey and Joan Micklin Silver’s other fantastic movie about American Jews, Hester Street.
Now you’re thinking like a programmer! That would be a great double bill.
Oh, you should hear our constant debates about which films should be shown. As you know, classic movie fans never lack for strong opinions!
Haha, yes, I know!
Like the other day on Doris Day’s birthday, I started obsessing on her very hard-hitting film with Ginger Rogers about the KKK called Storm Warning and wishing they’d show that at the fest.
Fantastic movie. I’m showing it later this year on Noir Alley on TCM with a new intro, but it’s also screening on the network this month because of the Warner Bros. centennial which we’re also celebrating at the festival. It’s one of the great Warner Bros. films that has been restored by the Film Foundation. And Doris is so wonderful in it. I’ve read some criticism by people saying that she and Ginger Rogers are not believable as sisters, but I could not disagree more. Do you know a little piece of Doris Day trivia concerning that film?
No, what?
Of all her movies, it’s the only one in which she dies.
Spoiler alert! So interesting, even though she’s come close in a bunch of other movies. I’ll definitely be there on Sunday morning to watch her being terrorized in Hitchcock’s brilliant The Man Who Knew Too Much at the Chinese. I know it’s an impossible question, but do either of you have a dream interview, alive or dead, that you wish you could do at the festival?
Dave Karger: That is a tough one! The first thing that comes to mind is how sad I am that I never got to meet Cary Grant or Randolph Scott, they’re two of my absolute favorites. Of the living, I would love to talk to Harrison Ford even though I know he can be a challenging interview. I hope to talk to him at the festival some day and show some of his lesser-known films such as The Conversation or The Mosquito Coast or maybe even Witness — something that is not part of a big franchise. And then, because I’m such a 1980s person, I’d love to have Molly Ringwald at the festival as we expand the scope of what is considered classic. As you’ve noticed, we have some films from the 80s and 90s this year, and even a film from after 2000, A Mighty Wind. I think there’s definitely room for someone like Molly at the festival.
I totally agree, the crowd would love it. I love the idea of showing The Mosquito Coast and you could also bring in Martha Plimpton who is so interesting talking about her career as a young actress.
Oh my God, that would be fantastic!
Barbara Stanwyck
Eddie Muller: My absolute dream, which is obviously impossible since she is no longer around, would be to do a full-on in-person tribute to Barbara Stanwyck, in my view the greatest actress in motion picture history. Wouldn’t it be something to do a retrospective of her films, from the pre-Codes of the early 1930s all the way up to the end, and have her there the whole time talking about her movies?
Oh lord, I’d get in line a year in advance. My 13-year-old son’s bedroom is lined with pictures of Stanwyck, she’s a favorite in my house, and she really helped to get us through the pandemic.
It sounds like you’re doing good work as a parent!
Have you noticed any shifts in the demographics of the festival over the years? I’m always excited to see younger people there, as obsessed about the classic movies as we are.
I have. I’m surprised and delighted to see how the festival draws an increasingly younger audience each year. I’m also very happy about the strength of the African American audience that attends. I’ve gotten to know many of these diehard fans who come from all over the country. That audience has only grown since I started doing the festival and the TCM cruises.
Dave Karger: I love seeing people of all ages. One thing I have really liked that they’ve done lately is invite local students to come including from USC and other local universities. That’s exciting to me because it will keep classic film alive way longer than we’re going to be around.
Yes, totally. That made me remember a festival screening of Children of a Lesser God a few years ago that Marlee Matlin invited a lot of young deaf students to attend. They loved the film and I really believe their interaction with Marlee may have changed some lives — I can see some of those kids deciding to go into the arts after that inspiring screening and discussion.
Absolutely. And how wonderful if we can be a tiny part of something like that. I’ve interviewed Marlee Matlin before and it was a total joy.
Robert Osborne at the TCM Classic Film Festival
I think you two and all the current hosts do such a great job on the network and at the festival, but of course the memory of the great Robert Osborne still looms large. Did your time at TCM overlap with his?
I actually met Robert for the first time in 2007 when I was working at Entertainment Weekly. I was invited to go down to Atlanta and co-host with Robert as part of the 31 Days of Oscar. We spent the whole day together and really hit it off, I really connected with him. What ended up happening was that when he was still alive, but too Ill to film his segments, he actually gave the blessing for me to fill in for him. I have him to thank for my role at TCM.
Eddie Muller: I definitely credit Robert with getting my gig at TCM. Did you know that before TCM started he used to run his own film festival? He invited me to come introduce some movies there, I remember talking with him at a screening of Double Indemnity and it was like getting an audience with the Pope! It was a wonderful experience and the cherry on top was that the person who was supposed to introduce Robert’s favorite movie, All About Eve, which we’re also showing this year, didn’t show up and he asked me if I wanted to do it with him. I don’t know that movie nearly as well as he does, but boy, did I get an education including on how to deal with people so beautifully in a public situation. Robert was so kind to me, we got along famously. And, I have to point out, and I don’t mean to be weird about this, but the day that I began my regular Noir Alley gig on TCM, March 6, 2017, was that day that Robert died.
Oh wow, that’s so meaningful, I’m sure he was looking down on you.
He was just a wonderful guy. Even though I had already been doing my own festivals and screenings for seven or eight years before I met Robert, I learned more in 10 minutes on stage with him than I did in all that time. Just watching him and understanding how he handled a microphone, how he sat on the stage, how he would bring another person into a conversation — that was the best education I could ever get. He always said that the point was not to try to impress upon people how much you know about movies, and he knew plenty, the point was to make people feel good about being there to watch a movie together.
The TCM Classic Film Festival takes place in Hollywood from Thursday, April 13 to Sunday, April 16. Click here to see the schedule of this year’s films and events.
Richard Michael “Mickey” Daniels was born on October 11,
1914, in Reliance, Wyoming, to Richard and Hannah Reese Daniels. Per his draft
card, his birthplace is listed as Reliance. He was one of eleven children in
the family, with siblings Ruth, Clifford, Adele, Leonard, Louise, Elsie,
Margaret, Sarah, Melvin, and Edgar. His father was of Welsh descent and had a
background as a miner.
Daniels grew up in Rock Springs, Wyoming, where he was
spotted at the Rialto Theatre during an amateur variety show. Gene Kornman,
photographer and father of Our Gang player
Mary Kornman, was a friend of the Daniels family and recommended freckled,
red-haired Daniels as a possible addition to the cast.
A young Mickey Daniels
Daniels was soon signed to the Our Gang series as one of the lead children, appearing in the shorts from 1922 through 1926. Daniels’s distinct laugh was featured in numerous Our Gang shorts and was also captured as a stock sound used throughout various other Hal Roach productions, namely dubbed in as an animal’s guffaw. He could also be spotted in various other Hal Roach films, even appearing alongside Harold Lloyd in Safety Last!(1923) and Girl Shy(1924). His father also appeared in several Our Gang shorts with him, in addition to Roach’s Girl Shy. His brother, Leonard worked for Roach in the studio’s transportation department.
When his time at Our Gang came to a close, he performed in vaudeville and also in a wide range of bit parts in feature films. In 1930, Daniels transitioned to The Boy Friends, produced by Roach featuring a cast of teenagers. The series of short subjects ended in 1932. He also carried out minor roles in It Happened One Night (1934); Magnificent Obsession(1935); and The Great Ziegfeld (1946), among other film roles. In 1932, his name appeared in several newspapers noting an engagement to Dorothy Mattice, which was called off.
Mary Kornman and Mickey Daneils in Air-Tight (1931)
By the 1950s, Daniels was no longer working in the film
industry. His draft card states that his employer was “Louis Meyer, Inc.,” but
this was crossed out to read “Kaiser Shipyards.” He worked in construction
engineering. The card cites him as having a scar on his upper-left lip and also
notes that he had a wife named Esther; additional sources point to him having a
daughter named Diane.
After struggling to get roles, Daniels became disenchanted
with Hollywood and depressed. He drank heavily during this period and gambled, while
spending time living with his brother. He also took on several construction
jobs overseas, participating in construction projects in Europe, Pearl Harbor,
and Africa. His niece, Marlene Fund, remembered him as a fun uncle. She also
recalled him partying and carousing at night, with him often getting kicked out
of the house, as a result. In the mid-1960s he was traced in Tasmania working
as a materials supervisor at an iron ore mine for the Bechtel Pacific Group
under the name of Mike Daniels. By that time, he was divorced and his ex-wife,
daughter, and grandson were all living in Los Angeles.
Beyond this point, Daniels was quite difficult to track. His
childhood co-stars could not locate information about him for the documentary Our Gang: Inside the Clubhouse (1984),
being unable to confirm a rumor that he had passed away overseas. Tragically,
21 years after his passing, details about his final years came to light. He
returned to the states and lived in a San Diego, California, motel, working as
a taxi driver for Red Top Taxi Cabs during his final three years. He passed
away alone in the motel on August 20, 1970, from cirrhosis. His cremated
remains went unclaimed during those 21 years until they were recovered and
buried near his parents’ graves at Forest Lawn Memorial Park—Glendale in
Glendale, California, in an unmarked grave. Film fan Bob Satterfield raised
money for a headstone in honor of Daniels, which was unveiled and dedicated on
September 27, 2019.
Few tributes to Daniels exist today. The Rialto Theatre,
where he was discovered, stood at 314S. Front St., Rock Springs, Wyoming. It
has since been razed.
In the 1920s, the Daniels family resided at Ahsay Ave. in
Rock Springs, Wyoming. This home has since been razed, though Ahsay Ave.
remains. By 1930, the Daniels family relocated to 3911 ½ S. Harvard Blvd., Los
Angeles, California. At this point, Daniels was already an actor. The home
would remain in the family for years to come, as Daniels’ wife, Esther, is
cited as living at this address in 1940. The home still stands today.
3911 ½ S. Harvard Blvd., Los Angeles, California
In 1940, Daniels was residing at 1213 N. Ainsworth Ave.,
Portland, Oregon, while he was working at the Kaiser Shipyards. This home also
remains.
1213 N. Ainsworth Ave., Portland, Oregon
In 1950, he lived at 308 S. Holt St., Los Angeles,
California, which no longer stands.
The most poignant tribute to him is the marker at his final resting place, thanks to funds contributed to the fans that enjoyed his on-screen performances.
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.
A trio of films bring to life Richard Matheson’s ‘I Am Legend’
The idea of the last man or woman on earth spurs my imagination.
How will it happen? When will it happen? Why will it
happen?
“Germs. Bacteria. Viruses. Vampires.”
That’s author Richard Matheson’s excellent answer to the “why” in I Am Legend, his post-apocalyptic novella set in a world decimated by a mysterious virus. The already intriguing subject is made even better with Matheson’s addition of my favorite creature – the vampire.
Since it was published nearly 70 years ago, his novella has been the source material for three films: The Last Man onEarth (filmed in Rome in 1964 as L’ultimo uomo della Terra) starring Vincent Price, The Omega Man (1971) with Charlton Heston, and I Am Legend (2007) starring Will Smith. (Yes, that’s a much newer film than we write about in Monsters and Matinees, but it’s important to include here.)
Vincent Price arms himself with tools to destroy the plague vampires in The Last Man on Earth.
Matheson wrote I Am Legend in 1954 and set it in January of 1976, five months into a mysterious illness.
Robert Neville is a 36-year-old researcher who has immunity
to whatever is causing a pandemic that has wiped out the world, turning the few
survivors into vampires.
Through Robert’s first-person account we learn about the
“before days” and his happy life with his wife and young daughter, the early signs
of a disease spreading wildly overseas and worries of whether it can get to the
United States. A newspaper headline asks “Is Europe’s disease carried on the
wind?” Yes, it is.
The story – and movies – will jump between those terrifying
early days as frightened people succumb to the disease and Robert’s current
life battling the nightly vampire attacks and his own demons.
Vampire/zombies, including an old friend, taunt Robert (played by Vincent Price) nightly despite the crosses, garlic and mirrors he puts on doors at his home in The Last Man on Earth.
He turns his home into a mini fortress with slats over
windows and garlic and mirrors at the doors to ward off the vampires. One room
“belongs to his stomach,” filled with canned goods and the like. By day, he
hunts the creatures while loading up on gas and supplies. He harvests garlic
from his hothouse, creating an overwhelming and sickening stench. At night, Robert
eats, drinks heavily and plays his records to drown out the taunting cries from
the undead.
He reads Dracula and muses philosophically about vampires (during the early days, there were reports of vampires that many, including Robert, scoffed at believing) and continues to valiantly search for a cure. And he inexorably talks about the passage of time, watching the minutes slowly pass by.
It’s surprisingly sad to watch.
“A man could get used to anything if he had to,” Robert
says, but who is he kidding? Not us.
Of course he hopes to find other survivors, but, like most post-apocalyptic thrillers with a last-person/people-on-earth theme, it’s not all good when he finds them.
In The Omega Man, Charlton Heston battles the mutant humans while nattily dressed in a green velvet jacket and ruffled shirt.
The movies
That’s the basic plot of the story that’s followed at least loosely in the films: Something wipes out most of humanity leaving the few survivors as vampires/killers/mutants except for one man who has immunity and fights for his survival and a cure. If that intrigues you, I highly recommend the movies even knowing that Matheson wasn’t particularly happy with them because, well to be honest, I really get into them.
Will Smith and the family dog sleep in a bathtub while the “Darkseekers” scream outside.
You don’t need to watch them in any order; pick your favorite actor of the three if you like and start watching.
Each film is set in the time it was made (The Omega Man is very much a film of the ‘70s in style and music) and has a different explanation on what caused the virus (bacterial plague, biological warfare etc.).
Three years into a plague, Woodstock remains the only movie Robert (Charlton Heston) can watch in The Omega Man.
The three versions of Robert are similar in that they are intelligent men with backgrounds in research, science and the military which provide them the unique skill sets to survive. Otherwise the actors give him a different personality: Price brings a weariness and pitifulness to his character (renamed Robert Morgan); Heston has a sexy confidence and swagger (it’s amusing how often his shirt is off); Smith is steadfast and loyal.
Rosalind Cash
Outside of Robert, the casting is minimal.
Only The Omega Man is notable with Anthony Zerbe as the creepy mutant leader; Rosalind Cash as a tough survivor whose appearance gives the film an interracial romance that I only note because it was so rare at the time; and a young Eric Laneuville as her little brother.
The infected are portrayed in different manners and gain
strength, speed and aggression with each film.
Director George A. Romero was reportedly inspired by the zombie-like undead in The Last Man on Earthfor his influential zombie film Night of the Living Dead.
In The Omega Man, they seem human, but the virus has
given them albino characteristics of white hair and skin – marked by red burns
from the sun – which are a contrast to their dark clothing and hooded capes. They
also possess a violent mob-like mentality and are a cult – a “family” – that destroys
culture (books, art) from the evil “before time” that they blame on Earth’s
current state. If you aren’t a family member, like Robert, you will be hunted
and killed.
Anthony Zerbe, left, plays the violent leader of mutants who were left sensitive to light and with albino qualities in The Omega Man.
By I Am Legend, they are very much a monster. Lightning fast and extremely violent, they have a fiendish appearance – fake fiend, that is.
These computer-generated images look like they were created by a computer and that’s never good. They’re only scary because of the high-pitched demonic screams created by Mike Patton, former lead singer of the metal band Faith No More.
In interviews about the film, Patton said he spent “four straight hours of screaming my head off” while improvising in front of a movie screen. He works; the CGI doesn’t. What makes it worse is that the filmmakers switched to using CGI for the creatures early in the filming because they didn’t think actors worked.
Watching these three film versions of Robert battle demons – an undead wife at the door, a mob building a two-story bonfire to draw him out to his death or the hounds of hell waiting to pounce when the sun goes down – are a few examples of the horror in his world.
A stray dog brings companionship and joy to Vincent Price in The Last Man on Earth.
But there’s another type of horror Matheson is writing about that is profoundly human. Robert Neville is a man alone and consumed by a terrible loneliness that is its own horror. That loneliness leads to the loss of a person’s humanity and a craving for contact even with a dog (an important character in the book and movies) or an inanimate object like a statue or mannequin. They are all used to great dramatic and emotional effect as surrogate companions or possible enemies. (Is that a mannequin or a person?).
Watch Price’s reaction to a stray dog, Heston get dressed up for Sunday dinner and conversation with a bust of Caesar and Smith carry on one-sided conversations with mannequins, pleading with one to simply “say hello to me.” Don’t be surprised if it gets to you – it’s supposed to. Ultimately, I Am Legend in all of its forms is about humanity.
Mannequins are a safe distraction for our hero in The Omega Man – until one of them moves.
A ‘Legend’ sequel
What happens when your
alternate ending to a film is nearly perfect, yet you don’t use it?
You base a sequel off it nearly 20 years later.
I Am Legend writer and producer Akiva Goldsman recently announced that a sequel to his 2007 film is in development with Will Smith reprising his role and Michael B. Jordan joining the cast.
Will Smith comes face-to-face with a leader of the “Darkseekers” in a scene from the superior alternative ending for I Am Legend.
Though the film made near $600 million worldwide, it was criticized for straying from Richard Matheson’s 1954 novella especially with its cheesy epic Hollywood ending that goes big and dumb. (OK, those are my words.)
Without spoilers, the Smith character has been experimenting on “Darkseekers” to find a cure. When his laboratory is attacked, a kid could figure out the connection between the Alpha female Smith has captured and the angry Alpha male. What happens next is ridiculous, but it sounds like that will be amended with the new film.
Goldsman told Deadline that the sequel will work off of that alternate ending and be set about 20 years later. (Think the structure of HBO’s The Last of Us, which Goldsman says he is “obsessed with.”)
“We trace back to the original Matheson book, and the alternate ending as opposed to the released ending in the original film,” Goldsman said in the interview. “What Matheson was talking about was that man’s time on the planet as the dominant species had come to an end. That’s a really interesting thing we’re going to get to explore. There will be a little more fidelity to the original text.”
If the film is how Goldsman describes it, this is one sequel I am looking forward to seeing.
Vincent Price battles vampires created by a plague in The Last Man on Earth.
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.
“I’ve never known a congenital wise-guy yet that didn’t outsmart himself.”
Sterling Hayden never quite fit. Primed for stardom at the height of the studio system, he was dubbed “The Beautiful Blond Viking God” by Paramount Pictures and dropped into star-studded dramas like Virginia and Bahama Passage (both 1941). The sales pitch didn’t stick. It was audiences that were reluctant to embrace the “Viking God,” mind you, it was Hayden himself. He felt like a phony, and decided to reestablish his personal standard of authenticity by fighting in World War II.
Hayden was gone for a whopping six years, and when he returned to the states, he had a fresh outlook on Hollywood. “I feel a real obligation to make this a better country,” he told the press. “And I believe the movies are the place to do it.” Hayden made good on his word. During the 1950s, he starred in a series of noir films that rank among the most acclaimed and influential of all time: The Asphalt Jungle (1950), Crime Wave (1954), and The Killing (1956), just to name a few. These films were narrative and stylistic triumphs, but more importantly, they allowed Hayden to craft a screen persona that was authentically him: contemplative, craggy, and deceptively cunning. The “Viking God” was a mortal the whole time. Albeit, a very intimidating one.
The film’s original poster.
The transition from matinee idol to genre icon didn’t happen overnight. Hayden had some years in the wilderness, where he struggled to make sense of what kind of actor he should be, which is what makes 1949’s Manhandled such an interesting watch. It was only his third film back from military service, and it perfectly straddles the line between the actor he was and the actor he would become.
Hayden is actually third-billed in Manhandled, behind Dan Duryea and Dorothy Lamour. The latter two were at the height of their office appeal, and they dominate the first act of the film accordingly. Merl Kramer (Lamour) is a psychiatrist’s secretary who overhears a patient discussing uxoricide. She finds it interesting enough to mention to her boyfriend, private detective Karl Benson (Duryea), not realizing that Karl is desperate enough to do something about it. Karl bumps off the patient’s wife and steals her jewels under the assumption that he can frame the patient. If that doesn’t work, he can pawn the whole thing off on Merl.
Duryea’s character schemes his way into a jewelry heist.
It’s a novel premise that quickly gets confusing to follow. It’s unclear who actually committed the murder for most of the film’s runtime, even though we know Karl is hiding the jewels. There’s also the discovery that Merl faked her credentials to get the secretary job, which momentarily casts doubt on her motives, but is quickly walked back when it’s revealed that Karl faked the credentials and sold her on the idea of them being legitimate.
Enter Joe Cooper (Hayden). He arrives at the scene of the murder before the police, but he’s still changing out of his pajamas. He’s technically an insurance investigator, tasked with recovering the stolen jewelry, but he works the crime scene with such conviction that he elbows the police out of the way. Lt. Dawson (Art Smith), the man in charge, has to tell Cooper to take it down. It’s a wonderful introduction for the character, instantly setting him up as a hero who’s thorough without being stiff.
Lt Cooper (right) casts a suspicious eye on Karl.
Hayden is much looser than he would go on to be in aforementioned classics like Crime Wave and The Killing. In those films, he projects disdain to such a degree that it’s hard to imagine either character ever being happy. The cop he plays in Crime Wave is trying to quit smoking, and the tightly-wound energy is palpable as he leans on ex-cons for information. In Manhandled, however, the actor is amused by the happenings around him, and takes the opportunity to flaunt his detecting skills in front of his policeman peers. It’s fun to watch because he seems to be having fun.
Eventually, Cooper and Dawson team up, resulting in a broad yet effective scene in which the two men agree to take a pharmaceutical mixture of downers. They’ve determined that the alibi provided to them by the patient may have been falsified thanks to some medication, so they test the concoction for themselves. The only problem is, Cooper took the right combination and Dawson took the wrong one, which means the latter struggles desperately to stay awake while they pursue a lead. This sort of comedy can go awry in a film noir, but the chemistry between the actors and the application of it within the larger story makes it work surprisingly well.
Hayden is the film’s stylish moral center.
Manhandled is no lost classic, as it loses steam towards the backend, but it does provide ample room for its three stars to shine. Duryea does sleazy better than pretty much anybody, and Lamour, while mostly foreign to the film noir landscape, does a fine job of playing a hard-bitten victim. Still, it’s Hayden that steals the show here. He’s bursting with energy in each scene, most of which open with him haphazardly changing out of his pajamas.
He proves that he still has some romantic chops during the nightclub sequence with Lamour’s character, and he manages to rile Duryea’s crooked detective despite only crossing paths with him a few times. The film is a fun watch in isolation, but it plays even better as a preamble to the legendary run that Hayden would start the following year.
TRIVIA: In her autobiography, Dorothy Lamour, recalls working with the actor who played the insurance investigator. She mistakenly refers to the actor as George Reeves, when it was in fact, Sterling Hayden.
Danilo Castro is the managing editor of NOIR CITY Magazine and a Contributing Writer for Classic Movie Hub. You can follow Danilo on Twitter @DaniloSCastro.
Most classic movie fans have seen The Nicholas Brothers’ showstopping performance in the 1943 film Stormy Weather. But other than that I am sure most film fans don’t know much about them. Since today is Harold Nicholas’ birthday, I thought this would be a good time to write about them.
Fayard Nicholas was born March 17, 1914 in Mobile, AL, and Harold Nicholas was born March 27, 1921 in Winston-Salem, NC. They grew up in Philadelphia. Their father, Ulysses Nicholas, was a drummer, and their mother, Viola Harden, played piano. They led a band at the Standard Theater in Philadelphia. Fayard watched them from the front row as a child and he saw all the black vaudeville acts. He was fascinated by dancers like the legendary Bill Robinson. So he imitated them.
Fayard taught himself by watching the stage performers and then imitating them. First he taught his sister Dorothy, and they performed as the Nicholas Kids. Then Harold joined the act. Dorothy dropped out and the Nicholas Brothers were born. Harold usually imitated Fayard. Their tap dancing style is called “flash dance” popularized by The Four Step Brothers and The Berry Brothers. I’m sure Fayard saw them perform.
As their fame grew, the Nicholas Brothers became the featured act at New York’s Cotton Club. Fayard was 16 and Harold was 11. While at the Cotton Club for two years, they appeared with bands led by Lucky Millinder, Cab Calloway, Duke Ellington and Jimmy Lunceford. They appeared in the 1932 short film, Pie Pie Blackbird, featuring Eubie Blake. When producer Samuel Goldwyn saw the Nicholas Brothers at the Cotton Club, he brought them to Hollywood to appear in the 1934 film Kid Millions. They appeared in the Broadway musicals The Ziegfield Follies of 1936 and the 1937 musical Babes in Arms. Famed ballet choreographer George Balanchine was so impressed that he taught them some new techniques.
The Nicholas Brothers moved to Hollywood in 1940. Their most high-profile performance was performing Jumpin’ Jive with Cab Calloway and his Orchestra in the 1943 film Stormy Weather. Other films include Down Argentine Way (1940), Tin Pan Alley (1940), The Great American Broadcast (1941), Sun Valley Serenade (1941) and Orchestra Wives (1942). The Nicholas Brothers never starred in a film. They were featured performers and their segments were removed so the films could be shown in the Southern US where there were still Jim Crow laws. But there’s no question The Nicholas Brothers were the highlight of any film they were in.
After dancing with Gene Kelly in the 1948 film The Pirate, Harold moved to France. So they didn’t perform together anymore. They were forgotten until they appeared in the 1974 film That’s Entertainment. And there was interest in them after that. They received Kennedy Center Honors in 1991. Harold Nicholas died on July 3, 2000 in 2000 and Fayard Nicholas died on Jan. 24, 2006 at age 91. Here’s Cab Calloway and his Orchestra with The Nicholas Brothers performing Jumpin’ Jive from the 1943 film Stormy Weather.
Frank Pozen writes about music, wrestling and more at his blog, Frank Pozen’s Big Bad Blog, including his AccuRadio Song of the Day post. You can follow Frank at twitter @frankp316.
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