Western RoundUp: Seven Ways From Sundown (1960)

Western RoundUp: Seven Ways From Sundown (1960)

This month we’ll be taking a “close-up” look at a single Western, the very entertaining Audie Murphy film Seven Ways From Sundown (1960).

Seven Ways Fron Sundown (1960) Lobby Card
Seven Ways Fron Sundown (1960) Lobby Card

Murphy plays the awkwardly named Seven Ways From Sundown Jones, who reports for work at a Texas Rangers office headed by Lt. Herly (Kenneth Tobey).

Jones is something of a green kid, who joined up after his older brother Two’s death while serving with the Rangers; Jones is great with a rifle but inexperienced using a handgun. Despite Jones’s dubious qualifications for frontier law enforcement, the short-staffed Lt. Herly sends Seven out to capture the dangerous outlaw — and ace shot — Jim Flood (Barry Sullivan).

Seven Ways Fron Sundown (1960) John McIntire & Audie Murphy
John McIntire & Audie Murphy

Jones is aided by Sgt. Henessey (John McIntire), who tries to quickly teach Jones what he knows, especially how to handle a sidearm. Circumstances lead to Jones ultimately striking out on his own after Flood, and he proves to be more resourceful than anyone expects, capturing Flood and fending off Flood’s attempts to escape.

As Jones and Flood get to know one another on the trail back to Texas, an uneasy respect develops; they rather enjoy one another’s company, but Jones has a job to do…and he’s also unaware of a critical fact: Flood killed his older brother Two.

Soon Jones and Flood have additional problems, dealing with Apache Indians as well as men who want to take Flood in for the reward, and they don’t care if they have to kill Jones to do it.

John McIntire & Audie Murphy

Seven Ways From Sundown is a top Murphy Western thanks to a good cast and a sharp, well-paced script by Clair Huffaker, based on his own novel.

There’s a very nice, typically excellent supporting turn by McIntire, but the majority of the film features Murphy and Sullivan front and center, and they really strike sparks together. The two men have a relationship in the film which is quite reminiscent of Murphy and Dan Duryea in one of Murphy’s best earlier films, Ride Clear of Diablo (1954), but at the same time, Murphy and Sullivan create something unique which allows the film to stand on its own as a superior Murphy film.

Audie Murphy in Seven Ways Fron Sundown (1960)
Audie Murphy

This was Murphy’s 20th Western, but despite a dozen years in films and being in his mid-30s, he still has the looks of an innocent “kid.” Henessy worries that his boss Lt. Herly is going to send the young man to an early death, but Henessy argues he’s short on men and has no choice — and anyway, Jones signed up for the job so oh, well! Little do we know at that early point that Herly may have ulterior motives in assigning the job to Jones and that he would not be terribly upset were Jones to fail.

One of the interesting aspects of Murphy’s film persona, well illustrated in this film, is that while he is typically rather quiet and seems on the young side, there’s also an interesting undercurrent of danger. I’ve recently come across critics who say that Murphy wasn’t tough on-screen or a particularly good actor, which causes me to feel baffled; it seems as though we’re watching two different men! A Murphy character like Jones may be a nice, honorable guy as well as a bit of a greenhorn, but he’s also a dangerous man when crossed. Just take a look at what happens to Flood when he meets up with Jones and a hunk of wood.

Audie Murphy & Barry Sullivan in Seven Ways Fron Sundown (1960)
Audie Murphy & Barry Sullivan

Moreover, Murphy is the kind of actor I watch closely because he tends to communicate a great deal with body language; I feel that some critics mistake Murphy’s style, emphasizing subtlety over showiness, as not being good acting. Murphy could more than hold his own opposite the best in the business, including Sullivan and McIntire in this picture, and is compelling at all times.

In contrast to the “business” side of his persona, Jones is awkward and tongue-tied around pretty young Joy (Venetia Stevenson), whose mother (Mary Field) runs a boarding house, but despite that Joy is drawn to Jones like a fly to honey. There’s a cute scene where Joy communicates her interest in Jones, repeatedly attributing her feelings and concerns to her mother, but it’s clear what’s meant and that Jones reciprocates.

Audie Murphy & Venetia Stevenson in Seven Ways Fron Sundown (1960)
Audie Murphy & Venetia Stevenson

Stevenson and Murphy are said by some sources to have begun an offscreen affair after meeting on this film. Stevenson was born into the business — her father was director Robert Stevenson and her mother actress Anna Lee (Fort Apache); she had previously been briefly married to Russ Tamblyn, and she would later marry Don Everly of the Everly Bros. She had recently appeared in another notable Western, Day of the Outlaw (1959), which I wrote about here in 2018.

Jones has little time to get to know Joy due to his assignment to bring in Flood, and the chase for the bad man ensues, over locations in Utah and Nevada, filmed in widescreen by Ellis Carter.

Sullivan’s smart, funny, and slightly regretful outlaw calls to mind not only Duryea’s earlier role opposite Murphy, but some of the best villains from the “Ranown” Westerns directed by Budd Boetticher and starring Randolph Scott; Sullivan’s Flood is a character on a par with Ranown villains such as Lee Marvin from Seven Men From Now (1956) — the title similarity is interesting! — and Richard Boone in The Tall T (1957).

Seven Ways Fron Sundown (1960) Audie Murphy
Audie

Sullivan excelled at playing this type of rogue; one of his best previous parts was as an accused criminal in the Western Dragoon Wells Massacre (1957), where his character proves to have more common sense and courage than some of the ostensible “good guys.”

In this film, Sullivan’s Flood tries to lure Jones to hitting the trail with him, but he’s also clearly not surprised that Jones remains an upright man of the law. Flood ends up taking Jones’s side against the foes they meet along the trail, and when the time comes for the ultimate reckoning, Flood tips the scales in the favor of Jones, a man he’s come to respect.

The excellent cast includes familiar Western faces such as Ken Lynch and Don Haggerty. It was the second film for Don Collier, who got into films after working on a ranch owned by actor Francis Lederer; Collier’s best-known role was playing Sam, the ranch foreman on TV’s The High Chaparral (1967-71). Little Teddy Rooney, who appears in a couple of scenes midway into the film, was the son of Mickey Rooney and Martha Vickers.

Audie Murphy & Barry Sullivan in Seven Ways Fron Sundown (1960)
Audie Murphy & Barry Sullivan

Seven Ways From Sundown was directed by Harry Keller, whose previous Westerns included a strong Fred MacMurray film, Quantez (1957); Keller later directed Murphy in another Western, Six Black Horses (1962). Keller does a good job balancing brisk pacing with revealing character moments and some excellent bits of action.

Like so many Audie Murphy Westerns, Seven Ways From Sundown has yet to have a U.S. Region 1 DVD or Blu-ray release, though it’s available on a Region 2 release in Europe. The film turns up periodically on cable TV and is well worth seeking out. I hope readers who are unfamiliar with this Western will enjoy it, and I’d love to hear about additional favorite Audie Murphy Westerns in the comments!

— 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.

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Classic Conversations: Director Benedict Andrews on How He Helped Kristen Stewart Bring Jean Seberg’s Fascinating and Tragic Story to Life

Seberg is inspired by true events in the life of French New Wave darling and Breathless star, Jean Seberg (Kristen Stewart), who in the late 1960s was targeted by the FBI because of her support of the civil rights movement and her romantic involvement with Hakim Jamal (Anthony Mackie), among others.

In Benedict Andrews’ noir-ish thriller, Seberg’s life and career are destroyed by Hoover’s overreaching surveillance and harassment in an effort to suppress and discredit Seberg’s activism.

I have always admired Jean Seberg’s work, from her “discovery” at the age of 19 by director Otto Preminger to star in his high profile 1957 film Saint Joan to her roles in films like Bonjour Tristesse and The Mouse That Roared. She endured instant fame and severe criticism for her early performances which only changed when she became an iconic figure in Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless in 1960 opposite Jean-Paul Belmondo. But that didn’t end her torment on American shores. This fascinating character study finds Jean living in Paris in the late 1960s with her second husband, writer Romain Gary. When she heads back to the U.S. to work on the musical Paint Your Wagon with Clint Eastwood and continues to show her support for the Black Panthers and other groups, she is targeted by the FBI who begin an unrelenting campaign of terror against her. I spoke to director Benedict Andrews about this riveting film. 

Danny Miller: What a pleasure to talk to you, Benedict, I’ve been following your incredible stage work for years! I’m a classic movie fanatic and have been obsessed with Jean Seberg for a long time. I knew about her involvement with the civil rights movement but had no idea the extent of her targeting by the FBI. Did you come into this with a lot of pre-existing knowledge about Jean Seberg? 

Kristen Stewart and Benedict Andrews

Benedict Andrews: It developed more as I got involved with the film. Like so many film lovers, I’ve had an image of Jean in my head ever since I saw Breathless as a teenager. That was a really formative experience for me at a time when I was just discovering world cinema and literature and that performance was burned in my imagination. I had a picture of her pinned up on my bedroom wall and I was enamored by her complete lack of artifice. Over time, I learned bits and pieces of her life that, that she married Romain Gary and that she had some kind of involvement with the Black Panthers, but I had no idea of the enormity of it including the horror of the state apparatus turning against a citizen like that because of her politics.  

I’ve always felt defensive of her because I actually liked her early work with Preminger that was so reviled at the time. She had a quality that I thought was so appealing. 

I agree, there was a natural quality that I frankly think was ahead of her time. She was criticized so harshly by the press. And then, through a series of accidents, she gets cast in this movie in Paris which ends up being the perfect vehicle for her, and kind of sets the stage for what modern post-Method acting will be — and still is today. Jean had that instinctively, she was never able to fully conform to the style of acting that was being promoted at that time, her style was so much more natural, and you see glimpses of this coming through in Saint Joan and the earlier films and then so beautifully in Breathless

I hope this film makes people go out and look at her actual work.

I do, too. And recognize the tragedy of what happened to her because you see this luminous soul being destroyed. When Jean got roasted in Saint Joan, no pun intended, you had an unguarded and instinctive actress putting herself on the line with a real strength and life force, but someone who also had an incredible vulnerability. And then you see those qualities being exploited and violated by the FBI.

One of the things I love about the film is the lack of over-exposition that movies like this often fall victim to. I love that you treat the audience with intelligence and just drop us into the story. That said, were there any worries about people following along who have no familiarity with Jean Seberg’s life or career?  

We did have some concerns as we started to show the movie to audiences who didn’t know her. But we knew that we needed to keep trusting the paradigm we had set up for ourselves. We have a character in Jack Solomon (Jack O’Connell) who actually says, “Who is Jean Seberg?” and he becomes a device to sort of unlock elements of her past. The movie doesn’t pretend to tell the story of her life, or for that matter, any of the characters in the film. Each of them could have a whole series built around them — Hakim Jamal (Anthony Mackie), for one, is such a fascinating, complex character. We don’t go into Jean’s years of growing up in Marshalltown, Iowa, becoming a member of the NAACP at age 14, making Breathless, or even the last 10 years of her life. We just focus on this window of this thing that happened to her and then leave the audience with all these other threads to pull to puzzle out her character. What interests me in cinema is to leave a space for the audience to navigate through. When you’re dealing with a real person, the temptation is high to fill in the answers for everyone, but we wanted to just plunge in and provide the elements people needed to go along on the ride. 

As as a classic movie nut, I love the recreation of Jean’s original on-camera interview with Preminger and that final scene from Breathless, I though Kristen Stewart was spot-on in those recreations. Did you consider doing any more? I admit I was hoping for a bit from Paint Your Wagon between Jean and Clint Eastwood!

We actually had a scene where we were going to have her singing “A Million Miles Away Behind the Door” from the set of Paint Your Wagon. I loved it but we were fitting a lot of movie into a very tight shooting schedule and there was a lot of story there to tell! But the scenes we did recreate, we worked very hard to make them completely accurate. It’s pretty astonishing — you can Google them and compare Jean’s versions to Kristen’s.  That was very deliberate on our part, because once we had those, we felt it gave Kristen more freedom to explore her version of the character. 

I thought her interpretation of Jean was extraordinary. Kristen Stewart impresses me more with every film of hers that I see. 

It’s interesting because she isn’t completely doing Jean’s voice that we know. That was an artificial voice that Jean put on for interviews and you can hear Kristen peppering bits of it in from time to time, but we wanted to let her be free to find the character beyond any kind of impersonation. We wanted to make a movie, not a documentary. 

It’s probably cliché to talk about at this point, but knowing how Kristen started out with massive fame at such a young age and received a lot of criticism for her early film work in the Twilight series, it’s hard to imagine that there wasn’t a lot she could dial right into in terms of what Jean Seberg was dealing with at that time. 

Absolutely. I mean, they are very different people, of course, with wildly different experiences, but, like Jean, Kristen also has a kind of raw instinct and truth in her work. And she certainly understands that sense of fame and enormous public exposure at a very tender age as well as the kind of abusive domestic press aimed at both of them. And, even more importantly, both of them had careers that straddled both Hollywood and European cinema, Jean with her work in the French New Wave, and Kristen with her work with Olivier Assayas and others and being the first American actresses to win a César Award. Kristen had an understanding of what those two different cinematic cultures mean and how to exist within both of them, just like Jean. 

I found her performance incredibly moving. 

I think she had a great tenderness and understanding of Jean. And she was willing to jump into the deep end and just kind of swim for life to do justice to Jean’s story from the inside out. 

She was born to play that part. I also really liked Jack O’Connell and Margaret Qualley in the film. Was the character of Jack Solomon based on anyone real at the FBI?

No, unfortunately. That character was fictional and his meeting with Jean at the end of the film entirely speculative. Jean did eventually get access to her FBI file, but I was interested in exploring these two characters, the interweaving of the watcher and the watched, and the whole question of guilt and ethics. Jack ultimately becomes an exemplary character for our own times when we are so vigorously dealing with crises of truth and responsibility within corrupt governments. 

There are so many interesting analogies of this story to today. 

Yes, and Jack represents someone who is prepared to risk his own safety to bring a truth to someone else — to stand up for something he believes in. We certainly need more people like that these days. 

Seberg opens today in Los Angeles and New York and will be opening in other cities in the weeks to come. 

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–Danny Miller for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Danny’s Classic Conversation Articles Here

Danny Miller is a freelance writer, book editor, and co-author of  About Face: The Life and Times of Dottie Ponedel, Make-up Artist to the StarsYou can read more of Danny’s articles at Cinephiled, or you can follow him on Twitter at @dannymmiller

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Silents are Golden: A Closer Look at – Battleship Potemkin (1925)

Silents are Golden: A Closer Look at – Battleship Potemkin (1925)

If there was a Mount Rushmore of Very Famous Films–and we’re talking insanely famous films that have been discussed for many decades–one spot would obviously be occupied by Citizen Kane, and other spots would be battled over by, say, Vertigo, Tokyo Story, City Lights or The Godfather. But another spot would bear a sign reading “RESERVED FOR BATTLESHIP POTEMKIN.

A Soviet poster for Battleship Potemkin (1925)
A Soviet poster for the film.

Roger Ebert once wrote that Potemkin “has been famous for so long that it is almost impossible to come to it with a fresh eye.” Indeed, at least among cinema lovers and historians, its famous “Odessa steps” sequence and pioneering use of montage are almost as familiar as the “Happy Birthday” song. So you might say it’s worth looking into the background of this famous Soviet propaganda epic if only to see it in a clearer light.

With his large forehead and a wild shock of hair, Sergei Eisenstein strongly resembled a mad scientist, but somehow the title “film director” seems equally fitting. A former engineering student, he served in the Red Army during the Bolshevik Revolution and later helped provide propaganda for the 1917 October Revolution (let’s just say he was enthusiastic about “collectivism”). Turning to work in the theater in the early 1920s, he became increasingly drawn to realism. In 1923 he insisted on having a play called Gas Masks (set in a gas factory) in an actual gas factory. Where else could Eisenstein go from there, but to motion pictures, where he could use all the real-life settings he wanted?

Sergi Eisenstein at work
Sergi Eisenstein at work

His first feature-length film was Strike (1925), showcasing his structural approach to cinema. He strongly believed in using montages to create emotional responses–Strike, for instance, paired images of strikers being gunned down with shots of cattle being slaughtered. Battleship Potemkin would represent the finest example of these theories of montage (which Eisenstein would write about extensively).

Eisenstein didn’t work in an independent bubble–all Soviet films were made under the government’s watchful eye, and were expected to do their part to help spread communist propaganda. Battleship Potemkin was actually commissioned by the government to celebrate the 1905 revolution and was originally meant to be a series of eight episodes focusing on different pro-Bolshevik events. Eisenstein ended up scrapping most of the script and just focused on the account of a sailors’ uprising on the battleship Potemkin.

Sailors uprising on the battleship in Battleship Potekmin
Sailors uprising on the Twelve Apostles

The film was shot in Odessa in present-day Ukraine, with its grand marble steps leading down to its harbor. Eisenstein actually located the real Potemkin’s sister ship Twelve Apostles, which was transformed into the famed battleship for the film. Wanting to keep the theme as operatically collectivist as possible, he steered clear of regular actors and had crewmembers and locals play the roles. Assistant directors played the ship officers, a furnace man played the ship’s doctor and a gardener from Sevastopol had the role of the priest. The emphasis wasn’t on individual characters, but general “types,” all illustrating the theme of rebellion against unjust authority.

Hysteria breaks out as disgruntled sailors revolt in Battleship Potemkin (1925)
Hysteria breaks out as disgruntled sailors revolt

Battleship Potemkin shows sailors (who are returning from the Russo-Japanese war) growing increasingly disgruntled when their superiors tell them they must eat maggot-ridden meat. When some of the sailors rebel, officers order the rebels to be covered in a tarpaulin and shot, which incites a full-blown mutiny on board. The sailor who leads the mutiny is killed, and his death is mourned by the indignant civilians in Odessa. When the civilians peacefully demonstrate against the unjust events, a Cossack squadron fires on them, and the terrified crowd flees for their lives down the seemingly endless Odessa steps. Apparently, as soon as he saw the steps Eisenstein knew they were an ideal setting for tragedy:

The anecdote about the idea for this scene being born as I watched the bouncing from step to step of the cherry pits I spat out while standing at the top, beneath the Duc de Richelieu’s monument, is, of course, a myth–very colorful, but a downright myth. It was the very movement of the steps that gave birth to the idea of the scene…And it would seem that the panicky rush of the crowd, “flying” down the steps, is no more than a materialization of those first feelings on seeing this staircase.

a panicked crowd flees down the famed marble steps in Battleship Potemkin (1925)
a panicked crowd flees down the famed marble steps

The whole sequence wasn’t easy to film back in 1925. A special trolley for the camera was built that ran the whole length of the steps, and assistants also had cameras to capture other angles of the action (one ran through the din with a camera strapped to his waist). In the editing room, the hectic series of long shots, medium shots, and closeups combined to create the shocking sequence that still packs a wallop today.

Battleship Potemkin (1925)
Shocking scenes from the film were so influential that they were mistaken for actual events!

In fact, the sequence–indeed, the whole film–was so influential that even today some people believe a massacre did happen on the Odessa steps (there were demonstrators killed by Cossacks elsewhere in Odessa during the 1905 revolution, but not in that exact area) and that the mutiny on the Potemkin happened pretty much how it was dramatized. Eisenstein said he once received a letter from one of the actual mutineers, who described himself as “one of those under the tarpaulin”–never mind that that detail was invented by Eisenstein for the film.

The release of Battleship Potemkin was a hectic one. A grand showing was held on December 21, 1925, at the Bolshoi Opera Theatre. Eisenstein and his assistants had been working on editing the film for weeks, and on the day of its premiere, it still wasn’t quite ready. Just as the screening was starting one of the cameramen left for the theater with the first few reels, to play while Eisenstein was bringing over another freshly-completed reel. Assistant director Grigori Alexandrov raced to the theater with the final reel–one can imagine the panic they were all in.

Another Soviet poster for Battleship Potemkin (1925)
Another amazing Soviet poster for Battleship Potemkin

All that last-minute work paid off, however, and the showing was a success. Arguably, Battleship Potemkin’s status as a masterpiece has been unshakeable ever since. It manages to remain timelessly powerful–even in spite of its original function as government-approved propaganda.      

–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 Quarterlyand has also written for The Keaton Chronicle.

     

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Silver Screen Standards: Bette Davis

Silver Screen Standards: Bette Davis

Bette Davis in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?
Baby Jane Hudson, whose shattered visage mirrors her broken psyche, is one of Davis’ most extreme characters, but the earlier roles paved the way for this late tour de force.

Recently I rewatched What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, the 1962 film starring Bette Davis and Joan Crawford as aging sisters in a deliriously dysfunctional relationship. Baby Jane Hudson gave Davis a chance to horrify audiences and test the limits of her talent for disappearing into difficult characters, but Davis had been pushing the envelope with those kinds of roles her whole career. Casual moviegoers today might think of Bette Davis primarily as a screen goddess of glamor, thanks partly to the enduring popularity of “Bette Davis Eyes,” but the Davis who has always fascinated me is the chameleon, the ugly Bette digging into characters who dare us to look beyond the shocking surfaces of physical ruin or decay. Luckily for us, Davis not only accepted such roles but actively pursued them, leaving us with a whole body of films in which the star throws glamor to the floor and kicks it to death.

Bette Davis in Of Human Bondage
Of Human Bondage reveals the dying Mildred as a wasted shell of her former self, a shocking vision of the consequences of her terrible choices.

Davis had to fight for the role of Mildred in Of Human Bondage (1934), which would be her first big chance to show what she could do with a damaged character on a downward spiral. Playing opposite Leslie Howard, Davis spits tacks and radiates spite as the fickle, opportunistic waitress who uses a man’s love and then throws it away. Her emotional performance is mesmerizing, but her physical transformation is absolutely horrifying as Mildred succumbs to the effects of prostitution, substance abuse, and disease. When we first see her, she’s a young, lovely girl (Davis was 26 at the time), but over the course of the picture she hardens, ages, and then withers as her destructive choices catch up with her. Her final look is shocking and a huge gamble for Davis, who might have repelled audiences and ruined her career but instead became a star. Her supporters’ write-in nomination for a Best Actress Oscar got Davis her first Academy Award attention, though she would not win the category for the first time until 1936 for Dangerous (1935).

Bette Davis in The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex
As Queen Elizabeth I, Davis sports one of her most extreme looks and must convey the romantic yearning of an aging woman with great power and a passion for a much younger man.

In 1939 Davis got another opportunity to inhabit a physically extreme character when she played Queen Elizabeth I in The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex, a lavish period drama costarring Errol Flynn. Davis was many decades younger than the aging queen she portrays in the picture, but beneath the elaborate red wig and the frightful white facepaint, it’s hard to tell. The star shaved her hairline and her eyebrows to look more like Elizabeth, a big risk for an actress who had to be glamorous for other parts at a time when she made several films a year. Ironically, Davis would return to the role years later for The Virgin Queen (1955), playing a younger version of Elizabeth than she had in the first film.

Bette Davis in Now, Voyager
Although Davis spends most of the picture as the new and improved Charlotte Vale, her initial appearance is a startling contrast to the glamorous image most stars cultivated.

In Now, Voyager (1942), Davis transforms from an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan, but she makes certain that viewers remember the homely version of Charlotte Vale who starts the picture. Really, Davis’ look as depressed Charlotte is more about body language and expression, since her “ugliness” mostly relies on glasses, full eyebrows, and an old-fashioned hairstyle. The glamorous Charlotte we see in the rest of the movie is better dressed and made up, the better to attract the attention of handsome Paul Henreid and the Academy, who recognized Davis with her seventh nomination for Best Actress. The movie proved to be one of the biggest box office successes of Davis’ career and remains one of her best-loved pictures, but in terms of transformation it’s one of her most modest efforts.

Bette Davis in Mr. Skeffington
Wrecked by age and illness, Fanny contemplates her lost beauty in the final scenes of Mr. Skeffington.

Far more shocking is her appearance in the third act of Mr. Skeffington (1944), in which Davis plays Fanny, a vain young beauty who marries a wealthy Jewish man (Claude Rains) for his money and then makes his life miserable. The role calls for Davis to age considerably, as the action begins in 1914 and ends during World War II, but Fanny’s beauty is ultimately destroyed by a bout of Diptheria, leaving her humiliated after a lifetime of narcissism and shallow pleasure. Her performance earned Davis an eighth Oscar nomination for Best Actress, proving once again that her willingness to abandon glamor for challenging roles served her career well.

By the time Davis reached What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, she had decades of experience with roles that called for startling physical transformation. Like The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex, the film calls for Davis to maintain her extreme look for the duration of the picture, with caked-on white makeup, ghoulish eyeliner, and lipstick, and a blonde wig decked with girlish curls that accentuate the horror of her character’s psychological decay. What’s really different about Baby Jane is that Davis is willing to embody this ravaged character at an age when most actresses, especially those from the glamorous golden age, would have run screaming from such a role. It’s one thing to appear old and ugly when you can go back to being young and beautiful after filming ends, but it’s quite another to do it when you’re in your fifties. Davis, however, threw herself into the part and earned her final Best Actress nomination as a result.

As much as I enjoy glamorous stars and swoony romances, these gripping, daring performances from Bette Davis are some of my favorite classic movie moments. I admire her courage for taking these roles, defying expectations, and playing complicated and even horrible women. She could be beautiful and sympathetic when the role called for it, but she could also plunge into the dark side and revel in it. More than her beauty, more than her famous eyes, Bette Davis’ greatest asset was her skill at plumbing the depths of her characters and showing us the truth about them on screen, even when the truth was ugly.

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.

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Noir Nook: Love in the Shadows

Noir Nook: Love in the Shadows

A wise man once said, “Trip over love, you can get up. Fall in love and you fall forever.” In that spirit, and in this season of love, this month’s Noir Nook celebrates three of my favorite dysfunctional noir couples – ladies and gents who loved not too wisely… and not too well, either!

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Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson) and Joe Gillis (William Holden) in Sunset Boulevard (1950)

Gloria Swanson and William Holden in Sunset Boulevard (1950)
Gloria Swanson and William Holden in Sunset Boulevard (1950)

Aging silent movie queen Norma initially saw Joe, a struggling writer, simply as a tool for renovating the massive script she was penning as a vehicle for her “return” to the silver screen. But before you could say “Bob’s your uncle,” Norma was head over heels for the hunky Joe – and Joe wasn’t too proud to turn down the material perks of their pairing. Unfortunately for poor Norma, Joe’s heart eventually was captured by another (Nancy Olson). Unfortunately for poor Joe, Norma didn’t take this news lying down, if you know what I mean.

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Mildred Pierce (Joan Crawford) and Monte Beragon (Zachary Scott) in Mildred Pierce (1945)

Joan Crawford and Zachary Scott in Mildred Pierce (1945)
Joan Crawford and Zachary Scott in Mildred Pierce (1945)

Who wouldn’t fall for Monte Beragon?  In the words of one character, Monte “played polo, went yachting, was an excellent hunter and was seen with the most attractive debutantes in California.” Plus, he was easy on the eyes. Waitress-turned-restauranteur Mildred was a total sucker for Monte’s charms – until he started mooching off of her and proving to be a poor influence on Mildred’s (already irrevocably snooty) daughter, Veda (Ann Blyth). Once the stars had faded from Mildred’s eyes, she didn’t waste any time giving Monte the heave-ho. Good riddance to bad rubbish, right? Not so fast. Unfortunately for nearly everyone involved, Mildred later invited Monte back into her life, using him as part of her desperate scheme to lure her estranged child back to the nest. She’d have been better off leaving them both where they were.

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Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck) and Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) in Double Indemnity (1944)

Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray in Double Indemnity (1944)
Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray in Double Indemnity (1944)

What list of noir couples would be complete without Phyllis and Walter? Phyllis first met insurance agent Walter when he stopped by her house as part of his job. But it wasn’t long before business took a back seat to pleasure… and then pleasure took a back seat to murder. These two were made for each other when it came to planning and executing what appeared to be a perfect crime – knocking off Phyllis’s hubby and collecting his life insurance payout. Problem was, they didn’t reckon on the unfailing intuition of Walter’s boss (Edward G. Robinson). They also didn’t foresee the complete disintegration of their relationship, characterized by paranoia, mistrust, and downright animosity. In the end, neither one was left standing.

Who are some of your favorite dysfunctional noir couples?

– 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:

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Mini Tribute: Erik Rhodes

Born Feb 10, 1906, Erik Rhodes – the Great Dialectician!

Erik Rhodes is one of my all-time favorite Character Actors, yet oddly enough, I haven’t seen him in all that many movies. It just so happens though, that in the few movies I’ve seen him in, he’s unforgettable – a real scene stealer!  I ‘stumbled upon’ Rhodes simply because I’m a huge Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers fan, and he ‘just happens to be’ in two of their movies, The Gay Divorcee and Top Hat — playing the well-meaning ‘professional’ co-respondent Rodolfo Tonetti and the wonderfully sincere dress-designer Alberto Beddini, respectively.

Upon seeing Rhodes in those two Astaire/Rogers movies, I immediately thought to myself ‘what a fabulous Italian actor!’ Little did I know at that time that Rhodes was NOT Italian; in fact he was born and raised in good old Oklahoma, USA!

Erik Rhodes Classic Movie Actor

Rhodes was born in El Reno, Oklahoma Territory in 1906. He graduated from the University of Oklahoma, won a scholarship to study acting in New York, and landed his first Broadway role, although a mere eight lines, in A Most Immoral Lady (1928). Rhodes, an accomplished baritone, was then cast in a few Broadway musicals: The Little Show (1929), Hey Nonny Nonny! (1932), and — Gay Divorce (1932) starring Fred Astaire. His memorable performance as the high-spirited Italian, Rodolfo Tonetti, impressed RKO Execs and he was cast in the 1934 film, The Gay Divorcee, starring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.

(Note: sorry, although the below quotes are from their respective movies, they do not necessary reflect the images surrounding them)

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Erik Rhodes as Rodolfo Tonetti in The Gay Divorcee (director Mark Sandrich, 1934):

Erik Rhodes, Rudolfo Tonetti, Eric Blore, Ginger Rogers, Fred Astaire, The Gay Divorcee

“Chance is the foolish name for fate.”

Erik Rhodes, Rudolfo Tonetti, Eric Blore, Ginger Rogers, Fred Astaire, The Gay Divorcee

“Rodolfo Tonetti at your service.”

Erik Rhodes, Rudolfo Tonetti, Eric Blore, Ginger Rogers, Fred Astaire, The Gay Divorcee

“You’re wife is save with Tonetti. He prefers spaghetti!”

Erik Rhodes, Rudolfo Tonetti, Eric Blore, Ginger Rogers, Fred Astaire, The Gay Divorcee

“Bene, whichever way the wind she is blowing, that is the way I sail.”

Erik Rhodes, Rudolfo Tonetti, Eric Blore, Ginger Rogers, Fred Astaire, The Gay Divorcee

“Oh scusi, scusi. I’m also very good at parties.”

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Erik Rhodes as Alberto Beddini in Top Hat (director Mark Sandrich, 1935):

Alberto Beddini, Erik Rhodes, Fred Astaire Ginger Rogers, Top Hat

“Who is sending you this horse’s shoe?”

Alberto Beddini, Erik Rhodes, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, Top Hat

“I promised my dresses that I would take them to Venice and that you would be in them!”

Alberto Beddini, Erik Rhodes, Ginger Rogers, Fred Astaire, Top Hat

“Never again will I allow WOMEN to wear my dresses!”

Alberto Beddini, Erik Rhodes, Ginger Rogers, Fred Astaire, Top Hat

“Oh Cara Mia, you make a big mistake — I am no man, I am Bedinni!”

Alberto Beddini, Erik Rhodes, Ginger Rogers, Fred Astaire, Top Hat

“Poverina, Beddinni does not like to see you so sad.”

Alberto Beddini, Erik Rhodes, Ginger Rogers, Fred Astaire, Top Hat

“For the woman, the kiss. For the man, the sword!”

…..

Although most fans (me included) probably remember Erik Rhodes best as those passionate Italians — Tonetti and Beddini — he was expert in dialects and accents overall, and could convincingly play non-Italian roles as well. As a matter of fact, I could hardly believe my ears when I first heard him speak ‘straight English’ as David Scott-Frensham in Mysterious Mr. Moto (1938) and as Max Corday in Charlie Chan in Paris (1935).

 Mysterious Mr. Moto, Eric Rhodes

Erik Rhodes as David Scott-Frensham in Mysterious Mr. Moto (director Norman Foster, 1938)

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Erik Rhodes, Charlie Chan in Paris

Erik Rhodes as Max Corday in Charlie Chan in Paris (director Lewis Seiler, 1935)

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Rhodes continued to act on Screen, TV and Broadway through the late 60s (with an additional isolated TV appearance in 1976, The Adams Chronicles). Most notably however, he appeared in some solid Broadway runs during the 50s and 60s: Can-Can, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum and Barefoot in the Park.

…..

–Annmarie Gatti for Classic Movie Hub

Note: this was a partial reprint of a longer article covering Erik Rhodes and Alan Hale from the 2012 What a Character Blogathon

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Mini Tribute: Alan Hale Sr.

Born Feb 10, 1892, Alan Hale – Pirates, Cowboys and Much More!
(potato chips anyone?)

Where do I even begin? Alan Hale is just such a wonderful character actor. He’s had quite an impressive career to boot, appearing in over 230 films, silent and sound, (and directed nine more), for a career spanning 40 years. I essentially ‘discovered’ Hale as I watched my favorite Errol Flynn movies — from The Adventures of Robin Hood to The Sea Hawk to Dodge City to Santa Fe Trail and more. But I must say, that perhaps my favorite Hale role is (and it is a SMALL role to say the least) Danker in It Happened One Night – that tinny tiny little scene always has me laughing out loud (what a booming voice!).

Alan Hale Sr

Alan Hale was born in 1892 in our capital city, Washington DC. He studied opera, but was unable to make a career out of it, so he pursued acting instead. He started out in silents and worked his way through sound — becoming a popular and very busy character actor in the process.  He’s probably best known for his role as Little John in both the 1922 (silent) and 1938 (sound) versions of Robin Hood.

Of course, just about everyone knows that he’s also The Skipper’s father (Alan Hale Jr. played The Skipper in Gilligan’s Island), but I’m thinking that not too many people know that he was also an inventor — and is credited with inventing, holding the patent to, and/or financing the creation of auto brakes, hand-held fire extinguishers, greaseless potato chips — and the folding theater seat!

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Alan Hale as Little John - Robin Hood (1922) Douglas Fairbanks

Alan Hale as Little John in the 1922 silent classic, Robin Hood, starring Douglas Fairbanks and Wallace Beery (director Allan Dwan)

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Alan Hale, Little John, Adventures of Robin Hood, Errol Flynn

And again, as Little John in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), starring Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland (directors Michael Curtiz and William Keighley)

Robin Hood: Give way, little man.
Little John: Only to a better man than meself.
Robin Hood: He stands before you.

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Alan Hale, Sea Hawk, Errol Flynn

“To England, and the Queen!” – as Carl Pitt in The Sea Hawk, starring Errol Flynn  (director, Michael Curtiz 1940)

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Alan Hale, Rusty Hart, Dodge City, Errol Flynn

“He’s the most ‘movin’ on’ man you ever saw. First off, he was in the English army over in India. Then he got mixed up in some kind of a hu-rah Revolution down in Cuba way. Then he started punchin’ cattle in Texas, that is, of course, before he enlisted in the war. So, you see, he’s either the greatest traveler ever lived, or else he is the biggest lier!”
– as Rusty Hart in Dodge City, starring Errol Flynn
(director Michael Curtiz, 1939 )

…..

It Happened One Night, Alan Hale, Clark Gable, Claudette Colbert, Danker

And my favorite:  Alan Hale merrily singing “Young people in LOVE are very seldom hungry” in It Happened One Night, starring Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert (director, Frank Capra 1934)

 …..

–Annmarie Gatti for Classic Movie Hub

Note: this was a partial reprint of a longer article covering Erik Rhodes and Alan Hale from the 2012 What a Character Blogathon

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Monsters and Matinees: Still Buzzing about ‘The Fly’ Trilogy

Still Buzzing about The Fly…

It’s easy to think of the 1958 film The Fly in two words: “help me.”

That phrase – often said in a silly high-pitched voice meant to mimic the film – is from an iconic moment that still brings chills today. It’s so popular that the actors even signed autographs with “help me.” So if it helps the film gain new audiences as time goes on, that’s fantastic.

But it’s everything that happens before “help me” is heard at the end of the film that makes The Fly deserving of credit for being better than your typical B-movie horror film.

Patricia Owens and “Al” David Hedison in a scene from the 1958 film The Fly.

The original novella by George Langelaan appeared in Playboy magazine in 1957 and the rights were quickly snapped up by Twentieth Century Fox. With a major studio behind it and the casting of well-regarded actors Herbert Marshall and Vincent Price, The Fly was elevated out of standard B-movie territory. (At the time, Price was known as a respected character actor, not horror star. After The Fly, however, Price filmed House on Haunted Hill and The Tingler in 1959 followed by a full slate of horror films in the 1960s.)

Shot in Cinemascope, The Fly is a beauty to look at with vibrant color by Deluxe (think Technicolor).  You could easily take scenes of the movie’s loving family – Andre Delambre (played by David Hedison, who was billed as Al Hedison here), his wife Helen (Patricia Owens) and young son, Philippe (Charles Herbert) – and insert them in a 1950s romance or comedy.

The very much in love Delambres (Patricia Owens and David “Al” Hedison) in happier times.

But The Fly is really quite sad. Hedison plays an altruistic scientist who has created a “miracle” he calls the “disintegrator integrator.” His hope is to send food and supplies to famine and disaster areas in the blink of eye. Just when he thinks his invention is ready, he accidentally teleports himself and a fly with disastrous results (hence “help me”).

I was lucky enough to get my lobby card from The Fly autographed by actor David Hedison. Note that he thoughtfully signed it Al David Hedison (he was billed as “Al Hedison” for this film) and added the iconic “Help Me!”

The Fly spawned two sequels: Return of the Fly (1959) and The Curse of the Fly (1965). (This story only deals with this trilogy, not David Cronenberg’s 1986 remake or its sequel.) In Return, Andre’s now-adult son tries to vindicate his father’s legacy by perfecting the experiment; Curse follows another generation of the Delambre family that clearly hasn’t learned lessons from the past.

The sequels also were made in Cinemascope, yet oddly shot in black and white. Each film in the trilogy has a different look and personality. The original is a tragedy, Return feels most like a horror film and Curse is a peculiar grab bag of genres. So while you should find something to enjoy in each film, one will definitely become your favorite – mine will always be the original.

Here’s a bit more about each film.

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The Fly

The film opens in a dark factory where the night watchman stumbles upon a horrific scene: a woman is standing near a hydraulic press where you can see blood and human limbs. It is the electronics factory owned by the Delambre family and she is immediately recognized as Andre’s wife.

What should be an open-and-shut case of murder isn’t one. A too-calm Helen insists to her brother-in-law Francois (Price) that she didn’t kill “her husband.” The journey to discover the truth  is why Hedison has called this film a murder mystery.

We learn the full story in flashback where the film blossoms with light, color, happiness and a lovely romantic musical theme.

The Delambres lead a charmed life – for a while – in The Fly.

Though Andre works for days at a time in his lab, he is a devoted family man and appreciative of his charmed life. When he shares his latest experiment with Helen and how it will help the world, she couldn’t be prouder.

 “Are you a magician?” she asks after he teleports a plate. But their happiness is short-lived: on the back of the plate, the words “Made in Japan” are backward. Andre frantically returns to work until he gets it right – even if it means sacrificing the family cat for the greater good. (You’ve been warned, cat lovers.)

Whoops – this isn’t a good sign for Andre Delambre’s teleportation experiment.

His research finally succeeds, but one tiny fly seals his fate and the film takes a tragic turn. Helen tries to help without knowing the full truth which she learns in a Phantom of the Opera-like unmasking.

As the fly starts to take over his brain, we can see Andre physically fighting himself. Hedison does a great job at silently showing this battle. When he struggles to write “help me … kill fly please … love you” on a chalkboard, it’s heartbreaking.

Andre’s realization that his experiment is too dangerous leads him to destroy his lab and commit his last unselfish act. Yet it’s not the worst moment in the film: that comes when the fly is finally found and the infamous “help me” cry is heard.

In a documentary about the film, Hedison said he fought to make the film more realistic and sadder by having Helen, whose hair and makeup were always perfect, and Andre physically show the emotional torment of their situation. Hedison suggested progressive makeup for Andre that at one point would only show his human eyes and the heartbreak in them. “I think it could have been a wild, wild movie,” he said.

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Return of the Fly (1959)

After the gorgeous saturated color of The Fly, it’s surprising to see the black and white coloring of this sequel. But it sets the film’s tone from the opening scene of the now-cliched funeral in the rain by casting a mournful pall.

It’s Helen’s funeral about 15 years later judging by the fact that Phillipe is now a handsome young adult (played by Brett Halsey). Adding to the somberness is the voice-over by his Uncle Francois (Price) about his love for Helen and how she never recovered from her husband’s horrific death.

Philippe, who can’t stand the sight of a fly, also has been haunted by his father’s death and the rumors that have swirled since then. He wants to rebuild the lab and perfect the experiment in his honor. “It will be his monument, his vindication,” he says.

Philippe Delambre (Brett Halsey, right) tries to convince his Uncle Francoise (Vincent Price) to help carry on his father’s experiments in Return of the Fly.

When his uncle refuses to help, Philippe leaves the family company taking another worker, Alan (David Frankham), with him. They’re quickly broke and Uncle Francois, in protective mode, volunteers his money and his skills.

Perhaps Philippe is on to something and will have more success than dad, but we’ll never know. Philippe’s plans are worth money and some people will stop at nothing to get them – even cruelly throwing an unconscious Philippe and a fly into a transporter.

Things don’t quite go the way Philippe thinks they will in Return of the Fly.

Return satisfies as a sequel with familiar characters and settings like the basement laboratory (or la-BOR-a-tory, as Price so eloquently speaks) and a tidy ending. In fact, it would be a decent horror film if not for the oversized fly head used in the film that leads a character to comically teeter around like a kid in an adult’s Halloween costume. (The fly’s head in the original film is much more to human scale.)

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The Curse of the Fly (1965)

If you aren’t familiar with Curse, that’s understandable: The film was not widely distributed nor easy to see until it was included on a nifty four-disc DVD set in 2007.

Curse is an odd yet interesting film. It messes with continuity by rewriting the end to the original film and pretending the second never happened. To make matters worse, Curse doesn’t even have a fly in it! But it does stay true to its title by focusing on “the curse of the Delambres, the curse of the fly,” that has followed the family since Andre’s deadly experiment.

Fans of British horror films will recognize the look of the movie ( it was filmed at Shepperton Studios) and the opening credits will grab your attention.

A window smashes open and a woman in bra and panties jumps out, running shoeless along the grass and down a road. It’s all in a painfully slow motion that makes you wonder if you’ve accidentally put on a 1960s sexploitation film. A car appears and a man steps out to throw his coat into the bushes where she’s hiding. Within minutes, he’s driving her into town, paying for her hotel room and clothing. In a day or so, they’re picnicking on the grass and he’s proposing.

A woman (Carole Gray) breaks open a window and flees in her underwear from a mysterious location in the opening to The Curse of the Fly.

Yes, your head will be spinning with this absurd opening to the third film that only grows stranger.

The man is Martin Delambre (George Baker) and his father is Henri Delambre (Brian Donlevy). They are the grandson and son of Andre from the original film. If you’ve seen the earlier films, you’ll think “Wait – Andre didn’t have a son named Henri!” and you would be right.

That’s one of the many continuity problems in Curse that throws most everything out from the other movies (that’s almost everything, as the curse of the title comes into play) outside of the family name and experiments.

Brian Donlevy, left, and George Baker play a father and son experimenting with teleportation.

Martin brings his new bride home (to a very strange mansion) and dad, though seemingly a nice guy, is pretty upset since they’re hiding a few secrets around the house. Although the Delambre men (including brother Albert in London) have “perfected” the disintegrator integrator and easily teleport between Quebec and England, there are still some issues. Dad has a few radiation burns and you won’t want to look in the stables

Though this film is a mish-mash of ideas (including a strange housekeeper and even stranger occupants that recall Rebecca and Jane Eyre), some of the “failed” experiments are intriguing. I was reminded of similarities to later films, including some by David Cronenberg and makeup artist Dick Smith’s work in Altered States making me wonder if Curse served as an inspiration.

This gross result of what happens when two people are teleported together bears an uncanny resemblance to a similar look used in the 1980 film Altered States.

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Familiar faces

Kathleen Freeman, left, and Dan Seymour

In addition to such stars as Vincent Price, Herbert Marshall and Brian Donlevy, you’ll notice some familiar character actors in these films.

Kathleen Freeman, Emma the housekeeper, The Fly. Through her 50-year career, Freeman starred in a range of films and television work including Singin’ in the Rain, 11 Jerry Lewis comedies and The Blues Brothers.

Dan Seymour, Max in Return of the Fly. You’ll recognize his face immediately as the bad guy in such films as Casablanca, To Have and Have Not, Key Largo and Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy. You may remember him as Maharajah of Nimpah from the 1960s Batman TV series, too.

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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. 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.


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Classic Movie Travels: Gale Storm

Classic Movie Travels: Gale Storm – Houston

Gale Storm Headshot
Gale Storm

Gale Storm was an actress and singer who found herself starring in two popular television shows of the 1950s. Several of her songs were top ten hits, with “I Hear You Knockin'” being one of the many favorites enjoyed by fans. While cast in many B movies, Storm nonetheless stands out as a noticeable talent. 

Josephine Owaissa Cottle was born in Bloomington, Texas, on April 5, 1922. She was the youngest of five children (Lois, Wilbur, Marjorie, and Brackston), with two brothers and two sisters.  Her middle name, “Owaissa,” is an Indian word meaning “bluebird” and was given to her by an older sister, Lois. Josephine’s father, William Walter Cottle, worked as the manager of a lumber yard, while her mother, Minnie Corina Cottle, was a housewife. Sadly, William died after a year-long illness when Josephine was just 17 months of age. 

In response to William’s passing, Minnie took in sewing and opened a millinery shop in McDade, Texas. The business failed and the family instead moved to Houston. There, Josephine took dance lessons and ice-skating lessons at Houston’s Polar Palace. She also developed an interest in acting and became an active member of the drama club at Albert Sidney Johnston Junior High School and San Jacinto High School. 

At the age of 17, two of Josephine’s teachers encouraged her to enter a contest called Gateway to Hollywood via CBS Radio studios in Hollywood. The old-time radio talent show sought to turn relatively unknown people into celebrities, with the first prize being a one-year contract with a movie studio. Josephine won and was immediately given the stage name Gale Storm.

Her performing partner, Lee Bonnell, from South Bend, Indiana, won the male counterpart of the award and took on the name of Terry Belmont. The two would marry in 1941 and went on to have four children: Peter, Phillip, Paul, and Susanna. They remained married until his passing in 1986. 

Gale Storm, Lee Bonnell, and their three children
Gale, Lee and their three children

Upon winning the contest, Storm had a radio role in Big Town and made several films for RKO Pictures. Her first film was Tom Brown’s School Days (1940), followed by other low-budget films. She also appeared in several soundies or three-minute musicals made specifically for movie jukeboxes. 

Storm went on to Monogram Pictures and played a variety of ingenue roles alongside the likes of the East Side Kids, Edgar Kennedy, and the Three Stooges. Storm became Monogram’s key star, with the actress playing in musical and dramatic roles. Moreover, she also appeared in romantic comedies, including G.I. Honeymoon and It Happened on 5th Avenue (1947). 

By the 1950s, Storm was appearing in film noirs, including Underworld Story (1950) and Between Midnight and Dawn (1950). She also appeared regularly as a guest performer for many television shows, making her television debut in Hollywood Premiere Theatre in 1950. 

Gale Storm in It Happened on 5th Avenue (1947)
It Happened on 5th Avenue (1947)

From 1952-1955, Storm starred in My Little Margie with Charles Farrell. The series functioned as a summer replacement for I Love Lucy. In 1956, she starred in The Gale Storm Show alongside ZaSu Pitts

In the mid-1950s, Storm was enjoying a successful recording career. Storm recorded several hits and headlined in Las Vegas. In addition, she appeared in several stage plays. However, she ceased recording after about two years because the newfound success was calling for more time away from her family.

In the 1970s, Storm struggled with alcoholism. She credited her husband as being supportive of her during the hardships she was facing and ultimately felt grateful that she could share her story with others who were also dealing with alcoholism. Storm noticed a stigma for women who were facing alcoholism and eventually found hope in her situation. In an interview during her later hears, she said, “During my struggle, I had no idea of the blessing my experience could turn out to be! I’ve had the opportunity to share with others suffering with alcoholism the knowledge that there is help, hope, and an alcohol-free life awaiting them.” Storm also found additional support by devoting herself to her religion and became an active member of South Shores Church. 

I Ain't Down Yet, Gale Storm's Autobiography
I Ain’t Down Yet, Gale Storm’s Autobiography

As the years went on, Storm published an autobiography called I Ain’t Down Yet, which related her struggle with alcoholism. At the same time, Storm continued to make television appearances and also frequented a variety of film festivals, including the Memphis Film Festival, Cinecon, and the Mid-Atlantic Nostalgia Convention.  In 1988, she married to Paul Matteson and remained married to him until his passing in 1996. 

Storm passed away at the age of 87 on June 27, 2009, at a convalescent home in Danville, California, residing close to two of her sons. 

Today, there are some places of relevance to Storm that exist in her native Texas. 

San Jacinto High School is now the San Jacinto Memorial Building, which is part of Houston Community College. It stands at 1300 Holman St. in Houston.

San Jacinto Memorial Hall, previously the San Jacinto High School; where Gale was an active member of the drama club
San Jacinto Memorial Hall, previously the San Jacinto High School; where Gale was an active member of the drama club

Her family’s 1930 home at 2611 1/2 Caroline St. in Houston no longer stands. Here is the property today: 

Gale Storm's 1930 home at 2611 1/2 Caroline St. in Houston, Texas
Site of Storm’s 1930 home at 2611 1/2 Caroline St. in Houston, Texas

Storm has three stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame for her contributions to television, recordings, and radio.

While Storm enjoyed success on a variety of mediums, her stories and talent are well preserved through her filmography and autobiography.

–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 , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Cooking with the Stars: Elizabeth Taylor’s Chicken with Avocado and Mushrooms

Cooking with the Stars: Elizabeth Taylor’s Chicken with Avocado and Mushrooms

Elizabeth Taylor Headshot
Elizabeth Taylor

It may be freezing outside, but here I am with the perfect dish this month to warm you back up again! February is all about Elizabeth Taylor, the darling of the silver screen who I’ve admired for as long as I can remember. To me, Elizabeth simply personified perfection, from her striking violet eyes to her demure voice and her impeccable sense of style. There are few people that I want to emulate more, and no woman has walked the earth that I believe is her equal. I’ve been dying to pay tribute to this astonishing and radiant actress for the longest time, and I felt that her birthday month would be the perfect opportunity for me to discuss her life in pictures and her delectable recipe. Just the opportunity to cook something that she enjoyed feels like a privilege to me, and I hope that you’ll read on and learn all about Elizabeth and how you can enjoy her recipe too!

Elizabeth Taylor as a child, c. 1930s
Elizabeth Taylor as a child, c. 1930s

Elizabeth Rosemond Taylor was born on February 27, 1932, at Heathwood, her parents’ London estate. Elizabeth, as well as her older brother Howard, were both dual citizens of the United Kingdom and the United States, as their father, art dealer Francis Taylor, and their mother, retired stage actress Sara Sothern, were both United States citizens who originated from Kansas. At the age of seven, Elizabeth’s family decided to return to America after receiving news of the impending Second World War. The family settled in Beverly Hills, where Francis’ art gallery attracted Hollywood interest from names such as Hedda Hopper. It wasn’t long before the youthful and striking Elizabeth received attention from the entertainment industry as well, and she quickly acquired contract offers from both Universal and MGM. While mother Sara was initially against the idea of little Elizabeth entering films, she eventually gave in and saw the offers as opportunities for her daughter to fit into American culture.

Elizabeth preparing for the role of Velvet Brown in National Velvet (1944)
Elizabeth preparing for the role of Velvet Brown in National Velvet (1944), the film that would make her a star.

The Taylors accepted Universal’s bid, but after appearing in only one film, There’s One Born Every Minute (1942), the studio dropped the promising starlet within a year. Universal’s casting director particularly disliked Taylor, stating: “The kid has nothing. Her eyes are too old, she doesn’t have the face of a child.” For many young hopefuls, the move may have seemed like the end of Elizabeth’s film career, but MGM was still taken with Taylor, especially after seeing her stellar audition for a significant role in Hollywood’s first Lassie film, Lassie Come Home (1943). She was perfect for the part, and her performance earned her a seven-year contract with the studio. Afterward, Elizabeth filled her time with minor parts in MGM productions like Jane Eyre (1944) and The White Cliffs of Dover (1944), all while attending school in a schoolhouse that MGM built on the lot especially for its child stars. Elizabeth’s schoolmates included the likes of Judy Garland, Russ Tamblyn, and Mickey Rooney, the costar of her next film, National Velvet (1944).

Elizabeth Taylor A Date With Judy (1948)
It’s obvious from this photograph of Elizabeth on the set of A Date with Judy (1948) that MGM made her up in the image of a grown woman well beyond her sixteen years.

While MGM knew that they had the right actress to play Velvet Brown, a girl who dreams of training her horse to compete in the Grand National, production was put on hold to give Elizabeth time to grow and practice her riding. The studio also wanted to dye her hair and change her name, but she and her family refused. Taylor dominated the box office with her charm and her natural beauty, causing one critic to note, “She is rapturously beautiful. I hardly know or care whether she can act or not.” Along with the success of National Velvet (1944) came a new contract with a raise in salary for Taylor, but also what she considered the end of her childhood. Within the next few years, MGM groomed Elizabeth for stardom, comparing her in movie magazines to actresses decades older than her and casting her in movies like Cynthia (1947) and A Date with Judy (1948), which highlighted her ingenue status, yet displayed her opposite numerous romantic interests and hinted at the roles to come.

Elizabeth Taylor and Paul Newman on the set of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958).
Elizabeth Taylor and Paul Newman on the set of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958).

The start of the 1950s was also the start of Elizabeth’s full ascent into leading lady status. At the age of eighteen, she not only became an onscreen bride in the iconic Father of the Bride (1950) but also an offscreen bride, marrying Nicky Hilton, Jr. in a highly publicized ceremony arranged by MGM. Virtually all of her films from this decade were box office hits, and the majority still remain classics today, like A Place in the Sun (1951), which starred Elizabeth opposite Montgomery Clift, her dearest friend. While occasionally Elizabeth made films that she felt were beneath her, such as Love is Better Than Ever (1952) and Ivanhoe (1952), she continued to play powerful roles that had a great impact like The Last Time I Saw Paris (1954), Giant (1956), and Raintree County (1957). By 1958, Elizabeth had blossomed into a mature and talented leading lady, but her third marriage to producer Mike Todd convinced the actress that she should leave motion pictures and raise her family. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958) was supposed to be her final film role, but during production, tragedy struck when Todd was killed in a plane crash. A distraught Taylor took only three weeks off shooting to grieve before returning to work and completing the film.

Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton in a publicity photo for The VIPs (1963)
Elizabeth and Richard Burton in a publicity photo for The VIPs (1963), their second of eleven films together.

After attempting to make good on her promise to leave movies once the picture wrapped, MGM reminded Taylor that she was still obligated to make two more films for the studio, which she did with Suddenly, Last Summer (1959) and BUtterfield 8 (1960). Both displayed Taylor’s brilliance in front of a camera, but the latter cemented Taylor as a true legend, earning her the first of two Academy Awards for her performance. After three years offscreen, Taylor decided to return for her first film after parting ways with MGM: Cleopatra (1963), which introduced Elizabeth to the man she considered the love of her life: Richard Burton. Despite their very public affair, the two went on to make eleven movies together, including The VIPs (1963), The Sandpiper (1965), and Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966), a legendary film that earned Taylor her second Oscar.

Elizabeth Taylor in 1993 with her Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award, which she received for her efforts to fight AIDS during her final decades.
Elizabeth Taylor in 1993 with her Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award, which she received for her efforts to fight AIDS during her final decades.

She continued to star regularly in films for the next decade, mostly in movies that are now considered cult classics by Elizabeth Taylor fans, but by the end of the 1970s, her career in films was largely over. After leaving films, Elizabeth focused her attention on building a fragrance empire, earning nearly a billion dollars from perfume sales alone. She also devoted much of her time to activism, standing up for those fighting AIDS when even the US president would not and creating the Elizabeth Taylor AIDS Foundation, which still grants millions of dollars to programs assisting those affected with AIDS. Taylor continued to fight for this cause until her passing on March 23, 2011, at the age of 79. She’s interred at Forest Lawn Glendale in Glendale, California.

Elizabeth Taylor’s Chicken with Avocado and Mushrooms

  • 1 avocado, peeled and cubed
  • 1 tablespoon lemon juice
  • 2 (2 1/2 pound) chickens, cut into serving pieces
  • 1/4 cup butter
  • 3 finely chopped shallots
  • 3 tablespoons cognac
  • 1/3 cup dry white wine
  • 1 cup whipping cream
  • 2 cups sliced fresh mushrooms
  • 3 tablespoons butter
  • 1 cup chicken stock
  • Chopped fresh parsley, for garnish

  1. Sprinkle avocado with lemon juice. Cover and refrigerate.
  2. Season chicken with salt and pepper. In a large heavy skillet, over low heat, heat 3 to 4 tablespoons butter and sauté chicken until juices run yellow when it is pricked with a fork, about 35 to 40 minutes. Use two skillets if necessary, adding more butter as needed.
  3. Transfer cooked chicken to a serving dish. Cover loosely with aluminum foil and keep warm in a 300-degree F oven for 15 minutes while preparing the sauce.
  4. To make the sauce, add shallots to skillet. Cook over medium heat, stirring and scraping sides and bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon.
  5. Add cognac and wine and bring to a boil. Boil until the mixture has almost evaporated.
  6. Add cream and boil 5 minutes longer.
  7. Add chicken stock to cream mixture and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until thick.
  8. While sauce cooks, sauté mushrooms over high heat in butter.
  9. Add the mushrooms, remaining cognac, and avocado cubes to the sauce. Stir until well blended.
  10. Pour over chicken and sprinkle with parsley.
Elizabeth Taylor’s Chicken with Avocado and Mushrooms
My execution of Elizabeth Taylor’s Chicken with Avocado and Mushrooms. It may not earn points for presentation, but it tastes divine!

As a result of this column, many people have asked me questions about my cooking experiences, many of them wondering if I’m even an experienced cook at all. The honest answer to that inquiry is no, and the truth is that classic movie stars largely taught me how to cook in the first place. I’ve learned so many techniques and new things while recreating the recipes of Old Hollywood actors and actresses, and this recipe was no different, as I faced for the first time one of the biggest hurdles for any budding cook: how to disassemble a chicken. My guess is that chickens are much bigger now than they used to be, so it was impossible to find two two-and-a-half pound chickens at the store. My options were either purchasing one five-pound chicken or two cornish game hens that were about two pounds apiece. I went for the latter, and their size made them difficult to take apart, especially for someone who had never even taken apart a normal-sized chicken before. Still, the extra bit of effort was worth it, because this dish was delicious. Believe me when I say that it’s the kind of luxurious dish that you need to watch during the weekend with a large glass of wine and a fancy movie.

That’s exactly what I did when I recreated Elizabeth’s recipe, finishing off the bottle of wine that I used for the sauce while relaxing for a splendid night in watching The VIPs (1963), one of Taylor’s most underrated films in my opinion. I envied her fashion and jewelry, and part of me felt like I was her while I nibbled on the hen, eating a full plate and saving enough of the leftovers for another meal the next day. It was terrific! I don’t exaggerate when I say that this is easily one of the most delicious classic film star recipes that I’ve tried. While it easily earns a full five Vincents in my book, I do have to issue the same warning that someone gave me before making this: Cornish hen is rich, and if you decide to use it as I did and combine it with the thick, heavy sauce, it will likely be difficult to digest. I also find it surprising that the same actress who penned an entire diet book recommends incorporating butter into nearly every other step of this recipe. It’s more than worth it, but this is truly a “treat yourself” kind of dish. Isn’t that what Valentine’s Day month is all about, anyway? If you’re thinking about making it, just do it! You deserve it!

FIVE Vincent Price Rating
Elizabeth’s dish gets a 5/5!

–Samantha Ellis for Classic Movie Hub

Samantha resides in West Chester, Pennsylvania and is the author of Musings of a Classic Film Addict, a blog that sheds light on Hollywood films and filmmakers from the 1930s through the 1960s. Her favorite column that she pens for her blog is Cooking with the Stars, for which she tests and reviews the personal recipes of stars from Hollywood’s golden age. When she isn’t in the kitchen, Samantha also lends her voice and classic film knowledge as cohost of the Ticklish Business podcast alongside Kristen Lopez and Drea Clark, and proudly serves as President of TCM Backlot’s Philadelphia Chapter. You can catch up with her work by following her @classicfilmgeek on Twitter.

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