ValeskaSuratt

VP19, Fellow reader of Ellenberger's wonderful blog here. Thanks for the link. If there's a cure for movie trivia addiction, I don't want it.

He's not that well known as an actor, but ... coming out of a movie in Los Angeles, I realized I was less than two paces behind one of my heroes, Stan Freberg ! Ever since babbling like an idiot at Bette Midler several years before, my policy had been (and still is) that the best fan is a quiet and respectful fan ... plus I'd heard that Mr. Freberg did not suffer fools patiently. Still, I couldn't resist and fortunately -- and for the only time in my life -- I said exactly the right thing: "Excuse me, Mr. Freberg, but would you mind very much if I told you what an absolute genius I think you are ?" "Not at all," he replied with a half-smile but without missing a step, "not at all." (For anyone unfamiliar with Freberg's work, the soup commercial he created starring Ann Miller -- reportedly the most expensive TV commercial produced up to that time -- seems appropos for TCM: )

> {quote:title=slaytonf wrote:}{quote}I think they were all taken in by Marilyn. Of course, she may have meant it to be taken as a joke, and expected laughter, but instead got condescension. If the "Whitman" story actually happened, I'd love to have been there to see the reactions -- did anybody realize MM was making a self-deprecating joke ? Did she even let on that was what she was doing ? The fact is that (much to her later regret) MM helped launch her career by making "sexy dumb blonde" remarks in public, hoping they'd get picked up by the columnists she was courting (including Winchell - ugh!). F'rinstance: when asked what she wore to bed? "Chanel No. 5." What did she have on while posing for the infamous calendar? "The radio." Why didn't she wear colored nail polish ? "I like to feel naked all over." etc.

On August 21, 2005, Arlene Dahl told this story on "Larry King Live" and claimed she was sitting at a piano with Cole Porter singing "You're the Top" when Marilyn made her entrance and it was only to an anonymous "group of gentlemen" Marilyn made the supposed "I love his chocolates" comment. On December 12, 2002, also on "Larry King Live," Dahl described dancing with John F. Kennedy when Marilyn appeared and that she and JFK had "roared with laughter" when they overheard Marilyn making the remark. On February 10, 1974, Dahl was quoted in the Ocala Star-Register: "Marilyn Monroe came over to a group – Cary Grant, Artur Rubinstein, Joan Crawford and I were in it ..." Obviously, Arlene never spoils a story by telling it. Still, it's unfortunate that the TCM version comes across as slamming Marilyn for being stupid. (Photograph taken by John Florea in 1952) Shut not your doors to me proud libraries, For that which was lacking on all your well-fill'd shelves, yet needed most, I bring, Forth from the war emerging, a book I have made, The words of my book nothing, the drift of it every thing, A book separate, not link'd with the rest nor felt by the intellect, But you ye untold latencies will thrill to every page. *Shut Not Your Doors* - Walt Whitman (Leaves of Grass, 1881) One final tidbit of trivia: in the TCM segment, Dahl is saying that the party was at "Lady Mendl's" (aka Elsie de Wolf) and not "Mickey Mantle's."

In "Faithless" (1932) Tallulah Bankhead only hustles as a last resort to save her sick husband (Robert Montgomery) ... just her bad luck to try to pick up his younger brother ...

When it came to the Whoopi-Demi kiss, many in the theater audience I saw "Ghost" with roared like they were riding a roller coaster ... despite the fact that there's no lesbianism in the scene at all -- it had been clearly established that Goldberg was an unwilling tool controlled by Swayze's spirit. Givenbak, I'd be curious how your project would address "questionably queer" characters like Kip Lurie (played by David Wayne) in "Adam's Rib," described by Vito Russo as "a yardstick sissy par excellence." Despite Kip's overtly heterosexual drooling over Hepburn's Amanda (like a basset hound over a bowl of Alpo), Adam (Spencer Tracy) impugns him for lacking masculinity (claiming that Kip wouldn't have far to go to be a woman), presumably on account of Kip's catty comments and grandiose gesturing. A sissy, yes ... but gay ? TCM's article on "Adam's Rib" contributes two other clues: that the Production Code Administration "cautioned against making Amanda's songwriter friend, Kip, come across as gay," and that Kip "was modeled on Cole Porter, who, though happily married, was also gay." (Does that mean "married and also gay" or "like Kip, also gay" ?) Seems like your approach to LGBTs in film -- "My particular focus is finding the origins of cultural symbols for the homosexual -how it is that we come to recognize them in images, words and music..." -- will help differentiate between "sissies" and gay men. I'd also be curious to hear Givenbak's thoughts on Julian Eltinge's films and career vis a vis today's transgendered community. (Eltinge's career as the "Tootsie" of the 1910s would make an interesting biopic starring Philip Seymour Hoffman.)

Thanks drednm for the great info ! (Marion as Liza Dolittle = "Pyg O' My Malion" ?)

> {quote:title=JonnyGeetar wrote:}{quote} > I'd hate to think he was actually a dynamo, ace-actor who was told by the director of Dorian Gray to be as lifeless and flat as possible- you know, like a portrait on a canvas- and as such he went down on the books as "nice face, can't act." You nailed it. From Bosley Crowther's review of "Dorian," March 2, 1945: "... Hurd Hatfield, *yielding plainly to direction,* is incredibly stiff as Dorian Gray, and walks through the film with a vapid and masklike expression on his face. (Apparently somebody figured that was the only way to show it doesn't change.) " The director was Albert Lewin. (Never hoid of 'im !)

Seems like Davies almost had *too much* going for her -- talent, brains, beauty *and* Hearst's empire ? Writer Anita Loos described screening dailies with W.R. and when footage of 2 actors without Davies appeared, he stopped the screening and demanded to know "Why wasn't Marion in that scene?" "They're talking about a plot point Marion's character doesn't know about," Loos explained. "Never mind that," W.R. decreed, and the scene was supposedly replaced with one in which Marion picked daisies. By "Cain and Mabel" in 1936, Hearst couldn't afford to be so picky: during one of the over-sized musical numbers (I think it's the one with Marion in medieval headgear) a studio worker can be clearly seen crossing the set in the background -- a re-shoot having been deemed too expensive. Years ago, I saw newsreel outtakes of Marion escorting George Bernard Show when he visited MGM in March of 1933 and I heard her famous stammer ! It was very apparent -- like, "I th-th-th-th-think we can go th-th-th-th-this way ...." From everything I've read, Davies was generous to a fault and a total sweetheart ... I imagine "Citizen Kane" must have hurt her very deeply, especially with frequent San Simeon guest Herman Mankiewicz credited as co-writer.

Those newspaper excerpts are priceless ! Sounds like you may already be familiar with a book called "Gay New York: Gender, Urban Culture, and the Making of the Gay Male World, 1890 - 1940" by George Chauncey ? If not, it may help you to decode even more of the arcane references to gay men in movies and newspapers which have long since fallen into disuse but which early 20th century gay men devised to identify themselves to prospective partners as unobtrusively as possible -- like wearing a red tie, discussing opera, standing in certain places in certain bars, using words like "lavender" ... Hope you'll keep us posted.

kriegerg69, Back in those days, it was like the Oscars had a bizarre unwritten rule that all Best Song nominees HAD to be performed by someone OTHER than whoever had made it famous in the movie. In fact, they seemed to go out of their way to make the songs sound completely different from the originals -- like instead of Tom Jones singing "What's New Pussycat?" they got 22-year-old Liza Minnelli to screech it... I only remember two occasions when it worked out pretty well -- Angela (instead of Julie) doing "Thoroughly Modern Millie" in '67 and Aretha Franklin (rather than Streisand) belting a soulful version of "Funny Girl" in '69. Still, the Academy kept it up until I think well into the 70s ...

From the '68 Oscars, Lansbury's show-stopping performance of another title song: http://tinyurl.com/849b9ye

Thank you, Andy .

> {quote:title=jamesjazzguitar wrote:}{quote} > As I noted in my post she is a fine actress and she has criteria to back this up as you mention " she’s won 6 Golden Globes and was nominated for an Emmy every single year of the 12 years “Murder She Wrote” was on CBS". > > But how many movies does TCM have the rights to where she is the lead female star? Very few. Thus the arguements that she shouldn't be SOTM based on the her classic movies has merit. Again, I have no problem with her being SOTM since I enjoy the movies TCM will be showing. > > Gloden Globes and Tonys help back up her acting creed but not, per se, that she should be SOTM. As it relates to studio era movies she clearly isn't one of the top stars of the era. Not even close. So to me it is fair to assume TCM has her as SOTM for reasons other than her studio era movies.The awards were cited only to quell spurious slurs on her talent. I agree that -- just like some of the other excellent suggestions for SOTM on this thread -- Lansbury wasn't one of the top stars. But among the joys of the SOTM format are the opportunity to see the scope of an actor's body of work and discovering unsung or forgotten "gems" and, for me anyway, it seems like most of the A-list stars have been "mined out" on both points. So, as long as their careers have scope and maybe a pleasant surprise or two, a few worthy non-A-Listers getting the SOTM treatment sounds like a welcome change -- not all the time, just once in a while. And while I tried a quick search, I couldn't find a list of past SOTMs. If anybody's got a link to one, it'd be interesting to see who has been chosen SOTM, how long ago, who hasn't, who's been chosen more than once, etc. Checking that list against the films TCM has broadcast rights to could explain why some of our favorite stars haven't made it -- and why some never will. From a strictly programming/marketing standpoint, Lansbury may be a way for TCM to put some extra promotional "oomph" behind a few lesser-known films. Whether or not one was a fan of "Murder She Wrote" (I wasn't), its popularity could very well lure an extra viewer or two. It also doesn't hurt that her films can be supplemented with a "Private Screenings" appearance and even a bit of her stage career with the 1982 adaptation of "Sweeney Todd." Maybe Lansbury's SOTM will be a total snoozer ... who knows ? We'll see starting tonight ...

> {quote:title=Bolesroor wrote:}{quote} I just love that fly joke... I'm gonna use it next time I'm at the Retirement Village! Feel free to steal ANYthing that might make you entertaining.

Oh, dear ... I HAVE hurt a fly.

First Katharine Hepburn was over-rated, now Angela Lansbury doesn’t deserve to be SOTM ... And not only is she undeserving, she’s “not a very good actress” ... “was never desirable, never funny, never dramatic or memorable in anything she did” ... "the acting equivalent of a styrofoam peanut," ... and January will be "a month-long tribute to mediocrity." Clearly, you DON’T LIKE Angela Lansbury. That's your opinion and I respect it as such. But when opinions are expressed as disrespectful proclamations (“a styrofoam peanut” ?) which contradict facts, it’s fairly inflammatory to some of us who admire Lansbury. I mean, she DID earn a Best Supporting Actress Oscar nomination for her film debut at age 18 and now, nearly seven decades later, she IS still going strong -- as in: she collected her FIFTH Tony for “Blithe Spirit” in 2009, tying Julie Harris for the most number of competitive Tonys. In addition, she’s won 6 Golden Globes and was nominated for an Emmy every single year of the 12 years “Murder She Wrote” was on CBS. That’s hardly the career of an unmemorable actress who was “not very good.” In my opinion, the January SOTM schedule offers viewers – whether Lansbury fans or not – a few rarities, and the only “sad misstep” is that it doesn't include her tour de force performance as an impoverished Countess in the unsung classic “Something For Everyone.” (I would suggest that adding that film to your screening of “Manchurian Candidate” would make an excellent showcase of Lansbury’s versatility but it hardly seems fair asking you to watch TWO films starring an actress you detest when you’ve already graciously agreed to watch one ) Finally, re: your complaint about commenters here having “a tendency toward trying to explain away dissenting opinions with semantics and veiled insults” ... if this is indeed the case, I respectfully ask you to consider whether the negative tone and content contained in many of your posts might play a part. No offense intended and I hope none taken ... or, as Tallulah once closed a letter: “P.S. You know I wouldn’t hurt a fly. Have I ?”

Sadly, there's considerable uncertainty as to whether the Cheeta who just passed away actually was the same simian who appeared in the "Tarzan" movies opposite Johnny Weismuller ... so much uncertainty in fact that one author penned a fictitious (and supposedly hilarious) "biography" : However, back in 2008, a writer for the Washington Post named R.D. Rosen decided to find out the truth about Cheeta and ... well ... let's just say his report is best left UN-read by those who prefer their Hollywood legends remain intact : http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/11/25/AR2008112500939.html?hpid=features1&hpv=national HOWEVER ... regardless of his true age and the validity of his resume, the recently-departed chimpanzee had been living for many years on a small income, and in less-than-Hollywood luxury, and so from this whole saga at least ONE solid fact has emerged : Cheetas never prosper.

I always knew she was a polarizing figure but some of the criticism here is more suggestive of a life-threatening allergy to Hepburn than any mere aversion. As Tallulah once said, "Next thing you know they'll have me vivisecting my dog without an anesthetic !" I mean, raaaaaalllly now, Ascotrudgeracer ... "That homewrecker ... " ? As radio show character Baron Munchhausen used to say, "Vass you dere, Charley ?" As for carping that Hepburn was self-obsessed -- a slam which seems so recurrent here it seems a battle cry for angry mobs of torch-bearing Hepburn Haters ... ? Hepburn readily confessed to Cavett her lifelong self-obsession -- along with several very valid reasons why it was a necessary addiction for anyone seeking success as a performer. Condensed for brevity's sake: Show me an actor who is NOT completely self-obsessed and I'll show you an actor destined to memorize only those lines which begin with the phrase "Today's Daily Specials are ... " Among the many other revelations in Hepburn's conversation with Cavett is that the line separating self-obsession from self-confidence, or rudeness from directness, can sometimes be as fine as spider silk. And while some here will surely squawk that repeated viewings of Hepburn and Cavett are worthy additions to the Geneva Convention's list of forbidden tortures, those who feel otherwise are likely to realize that what seems like brusqueness is actually a product of Hepburn's fastidiously efficient, intensely logical purview, and are seldom if ever a fissure for bottled-up belligerence or irrational self-indulgence which were, for example, the source of Bette Davis' far more numerous, gratuitous, and egregious outbursts. Self-obsessed ? No question. But self-deluded ? Hardly. Anyone unwilling to concede that this unusually long and comprehensive interview proves that any discomfort Hepburn's self-obsession might cause is more than offset by her spot-on self-awareness and exceptional candor is suffering from -- to use the proper psychological term -- doody-headedness. The bottom line is that like green chartreuse or ketchup on scrambled eggs, Hepburn is not for everyone. Those whose attempts to invalidate the appeal of such delicacies consist of little more than their own harshly-worded personal preferences only reveal their own limitations, not Hepburn's. Finally (and with apologies that my posts invariably suffer from demigogic diahrrea -- a disease common to the pompous), I offer to anyone still reading an excerpt from a letter (undated but believed to be circa 1945) in which Hepburn herself speaks to this thread's topic: "I have not the confidence of a “beauty”—Mine is the confidence of the 'beast'—" (The letter is just one of the treasures awaiting Hepburn fans in the blog entries posted on the Katharine Hepburn Cultural Arts Center site: http://tinyurl.com/7j6x259 )

Frances Farmer was not only one of the most exquisitely beautiful movie stars EVER, she was also a brilliant actress. (See Come and Get It with Edward Arnold, Paramount, 1936, which I think is her screen debut. She's stunning !) Unfortunately, Farmer was also an extremely complex and high-strung woman (especially when her film career was just getting started) as well as a highly-prinicipaled artiste. But as for the claims made in Shadowland ... ? .... Y'know, there are a whole bunch of words we need to invent, and one that we Movie People really need is a term for the movie star biographies which are usually the first to come out after a star's death and are chock-full of sizzling, far-fetched LIES designed to make their authors rich. A few examples include: * Harlow written by Arthur Landau * the biography of Errol Flynn (can't remember the title) which claimed Flynn was a Nazi spy and, sadly, * Shadowland (I'm open to better suggestions, but for now I'm going to start calling this particular genre of books "snot-o-biographies" ...) Fortunately, it seems that as time goes by, SOMEbody comes along who, after much dogged research, finally sets the record straight. In the case of Frances Farmer, it appears to be this guy: http://jeffreykauffman.net/francesfarmer/sheddinglight.html But while the facts of her life are fascinating, if you want to read what's possibly THE most illuminating piece about Frances Farmer .... ? There's an extremely intelligent, intense, and thought-provoking piece written waaay back in 1931 .... by Frances HERSELF -- a high school essay she wrote just a few months shy of her 18th birthday ! And from the title alone, you can imagine the uproar it caused : “God Dies” by Frances Farmer (May 2, 1931) No one ever came to me and said, “You’re a fool. There isn’t such a thing as God. Somebody’s been stuffing you.” It wasn’t a murder. I think God just died of old age. And when I realized that he wasn’t any more, it didn’t shock me. It seemed natural and right. Maybe it was because I was never properly impressed with a religion. I went to Sunday school and liked the stories about Christ and the Christmas star. They were beautiful. They made you warm and happy to think about. But I didn’t believe them. The Sunday School teacher talked too much in the way our grade school teacher used to when she told us about George Washington. Pleasant, pretty stories, but not true. Religion was too vague. God was different. He was something real, something I could feel. But there were only certain times when I could feel it. I used to lie between cool, clean sheets at night after I’d had a bath, after I had washed my hair and scrubbed my knuckles and finger nails and teeth. Then I could lie quite still in the dark with my face to the window with the trees in it, and talk to God. “I am clean, now. I’ve never been as clean. I’ll never be cleaner.” And somehow, it was God. I wasn’t sure that it was … just something cool and dark and clean. That wasn’t religion, though. There was too much of the physical about it. I couldn’t get that same feeling during the day, with my hands in dirty dish water and the hard sun showing up the dirtiness on the roof-tops. And after a time, even at night, the feeling of God didn’t last. I began to wonder what the minister meant when he said, “God, the father, sees even the smallest sparrow fall. He watches over all his children.” That jumbled it all up for me. But I was sure of one thing. If God were a father, with children, that cleanliness I had been feeling wasn’t God. So at night, when I went to bed, I would think, “I am clean. I am sleepy.” And then I went to sleep. It didn’t keep me from enjoying the cleanness any less. I just knew that God wasn’t there. He was a man on a throne in Heaven, so he was easy to forget. Sometimes I found he was useful to remember; especially when I lost things that were important. After slamming through the house, panicky and breathless from searching, I could stop in the middle of a room and shut my eyes. “Please God, let me find my red hat with the blue trimmings.” It usually worked. God became a super-father that couldn’t spank me. But if I wanted a thing badly enough, he arranged it. That satisfied me until I began to figure that if God loved all his children equally, why did he bother about my red hat and let other people lose their fathers and mothers for always? I began to see that he didn’t have much to do about hats, people dying or anything. They happened whether he wanted them to or not, and he stayed in heaven and pretended not to notice. I wondered a little why God was such a useless thing. It seemed a waste of time to have him. After that he became less and less, until he was…nothingness. I felt rather proud to think that I had found the truth myself, without help from any one. It puzzled me that other people hadn’t found out, too. God was gone. We were younger. We had reached past him. Why couldn’t they see it? It still puzzles me. Frances Farmer in 1958 outside CBS in Los Angeles (aka Television City)

> {quote:title=EugeniaH wrote: > > > > }{quote}I used to frequently confuse Marie with Alison Skipworth, another wonderful actress... Same here except that instead of Alison Skipworth, I confused Dressler with a dressy lampshade ...

Ugaarte, Thanks for the kind words, and also for the reminder that in a democracy, "atrocity" is in the eye of the beholder. My apologies for exaggerating. It'd be more accurate to say that Davis' singing reminds me of Ethel Merman's assessment of Irving Berlin's: "He sang like a hinge!" Using that scale of measurement, Bette is an old rusty shutter swaying in a strong breeze. Admittedly, the intricate, patter-like lyrics and complicated time signature suggest that the title song from "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?" was a challenging choice of material. (And whether it's a title song "in title only" depends on one's definition since rather than playing anywhere near credits, it's heard in the film only once and without lyrics as incidental music -- playing on the radio at the beginning of, I believe, the first scene between the next door neighbor, "that nosey Mrs. Bates," portrayed by the highly underrated Anna Lee, and Mrs. Bates' teenaged daughter Liza, portrayed by an actress credited as Barbara Merrill but who, as any true Davis devotee will happily inform you -- and anyone in earshot -- is actually Bette's and her overbearing fourth husband, Gary Merrill's daughter, the very underhanded B.D. Hyman. And please excuse the extension of my digression, but it's necessary to point out that while describing B.D. as "underhanded" might momentarily feed an addiction to posting pretentiously verbose comments, it is a VAST understatement of B.D.'s apparent character. Those of us who thought Christina Crawford's "Mommy Dearest" would stand forever as the ultimate public desecration of a movie star's image by one of their own spoiled spawn were shocked when B.D. shattered that record simply by publishing her scathing book while its target was still ALIVE (albeit only barely). Obviously, I do not side with those who denigrate Hyman for simply miscalculating how much longer her terminally ill mother would live. (I mean, really ... what movie star's offsrping hasn't made THAT silly mistake ??) Just to recap: Joan Crawford and Bette Davis were aware their daughters were cooking up character-assassinating books, essentially putting Christina and B.D. in -- you should pardon the expression -- a dead heat. Christina seemed destined for victory thanks to her outstanding points for not only damaging, but damn near oblitering the public image her mother'd devoted her entire life to creating. The points later awarded when reports surfaced Christina had also tried to use what she intended to put in her book as a way of strong-arming (even more) money out of her then-dying mother seemed to cement her place in history. Little could she have realized that B.D. would soar past her, propelled by her stunningly high marks for Execution and Innovation which were awarded for having not just publicly humiliating her mother but also making it possible for the devastatingly pain her act of vengeance had caused to be made known to the public as well ... directly from Bette herself ! Even the most rabid of Davis' detractors can muster an iota of sympathy from the talk show interviews in which Davis, frail as a bird following her breast cancer surgery AND a stroke yet still puffing defiantly on cigarettes, spoke candidly about her daughter choosing to share intimate details of her upbringing -- or, at least, the ones she deemed "worthy" -- with the entire world rather than a handful of mental health care professionals.) BUT ... getting back to the OTHER tragedy -- Bette Davis singing on "The Andy Williams Show" ... ? I think Davis didn't so much *perform* music as *deform* it but I venture so harsh an appraisal only because I believe Davis' stature as an actress won't be toppled by the minor quibble that her singing talent was more lillyputian than Lily Pons. Considering how well it's withstood all the mud B.D. threw at it, Betty Davis' legacy won't be sullied by so minor a criticism that as a singer, she wasn't very good. (Cut to Bette belting the "Baby Jane" lyric: "How I WISH-o-wish-o-wish-o-wish I WERE !") To me, the problem with Davis' appearance on Andy Williams' show is not that her singing voice is neither melodic nor even particularly pleasant. It hardly even matters that she sways to the music like an improperly balanced washing machine. Such imperfections are actually welcome examples of the otherwise nearly-undefinable quality known as "camp." No, the real awfulness is that, perhaps due to her lack of experience belting out a tune, Davis' mask of "Seasoned and Indominable Professional" slips just enough as to belie an important part of her image -- the Blackglama legend who always sliced her way through life's most melodramatic vicissitudes with her chin held high can be clearly seen as nervous, self-conscious, and apparently suffering from the delusion that she can "get by" on so tacky a gimmick as the ol' "Aging Movie Legend Attempting to Sing" schtick which ultimately reached near-epidemic proportions on TV variety shows of the late 60s and left small but permanent scars on the later careers of Lana Turner and Tallulah Bankhead. Davis' song performance is even flawed technically -- it becomes abundantly clear that she'd memorized but not mastered the song's lyics when, near the end, she seeks rescue from her cue cards as desperately as the Titanic's crew must have scanned the horizon for Carpathia's silhouette. And while Bette managed to avoid sinking, her struggle to stay afloat was captured on videotape : http://tinyurl.com/6ovnwyb I realize it was impossible for TV variety shows to ever rival motion picture studio in terms of a finished product's appearance of perfection. Still, it pains me greatly to catch the great Bette Davis in the act of fumbling for her next line. I do, of course, respect your opinions, Ugaarte, no matter how addle-pated or whopper-jawed they might be (and if I were ever to deign to signify a friendly rib jab by inserting a "smiley," I'd put one here) and I also enjoy your comments -- even those which offer no opportunity to apologize for the crime of exaggerating by indulging even more eggregiously in doing so.

BetteDavis19, (sputter, sputter) What was that ... ?! Ha ha ... for a moment there, I could have SWORN you said that you'd NEVER SEEN "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane ?" What's that ... ? You haven't ????? And yet your nom de comment is BetteDavis19 ??? Well ! Do not pass go, do not collect $200, but rather hie thyself forthwith to JAIL -- and without any chance of PAROLE -- until you've not only seen "Baby Jane," but can also pass a written exam on it ! (And yes, there WILL be essay questions !) Just kidding there (somewhat), BD19 ... The reason for that reaction (of throwing up a little in my mouth) is that, while some condemned both the Misses Davis and Crawford for accepting roles in what was deemed a low-budget horror film -- and a few even insultingly declared it the first in a new genre called "Hag Horror" -- the fact is that the movie would ultimately be considered the last great performance either of these legendary actresses would give. Davis in particular tackled her role of the tragically deranged former child star, Jane Hudson, with the same level of commitment and complete lack of vanity with which she'd played the tubercular Mildred in "Of Human Bondage." In fact, it's been reported that the first time Queen Joan saw Davis wearing her bizarre, almost Kabuki-like make-up, Her Majesty deigned to utter that most damning of all understatements with which one actor expresses disdain for another's work: "Oh ... you're going to play it THAT way ?" What Crawford was far too vain to understand is that there was -- of course -- method (but, as Davis made clear in her autobiography, not The Method) in her madness. As Miss D. later explained to author Whitney Stine, "I felt Jane never washed her face, just added another layer of makeup each day." Davis' performance turned out to be THE single most searingly unapologetic of her entire career. As several commenters have mentioned above, the moment when Jane is drunkenly performing one of her childhood songs, suddenly catches sight of herself in a mirror and dissolves into tears is so heartbreakingly revealing that it succeeds beyond measure in creating sympathy for one of the screen's most detestably villainous characters. Simply noting that Davis's portrayal of Jane earned her a Best Actress Oscar nomination is actually an understatement of her achievement. Only by putting that honor in context can the true extent of Davis' stature as an actress be understood: * It was the TENTH time Bette Davis was nominated for Best Actress -- a record at the time. * It had been ten years since her last Best Actress nomination (for "The Star" in 1952) and in the intervening decade, the number of roles offered to her dropped off precipitously, to the point that the word in Hollywood was that Bette Davis was a has-been. There's evidence Davis herself may have thought so too -- in September of 1962, during production of "Baby Jane," she placed an advertisement in Variety under the heading of "Situations Wanted — Women Artists" which read: "Mother of three—10, 11 & 15—divorcee. American. Thirty years experience as an actress in Motion Pictures. Mobile still and more affable than rumor would have it. Wants steady employment in Hollywood. (Has had Broadway)." When the ad created considerable stir, Davis claimed she'd intended it as a joke. * Right up to the moment Maximillian Schell announced the winner, the Best Actress contest was considered a neck-and-neck race between Davis and Anne Bancroft who won for "The Miracle Worker." In addition to Bancroft's sublime performance, the other competition was quite considerable -- also nominated were Lee Remick for "The Days of Wine and Roses," Geraldine Page for "Sweet Bird of Youth," and Katharine Hepburn for "Long Day's Journey Into Night." * Made on a budget of just under $1 million, within a year of its premiere on Octoberr 31, 1962, "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?" had grossed $9 million, making it a blockbuster for the time. * When asked, many years later, by Johnny Carson if there were any roles she had NOT won the Oscar for but thought she deserved to, Davis instantly shot back, "Yes, THREE !" and Jane Hudson was, of course, one of them. * Where Davis' work in "Baby Jane" was one of the high-points of her career, it led to one of her lowest: while attempting to publicize the film by appearing on "The Andy Williams Show," she also attempted to SING the supposed title song -- an atrocity which simply must be seen to be believed: I do apologize for lecturing you so, BetteDavis19. (I do hope by now you've noticed the firm placement of my tongue in my cheek ... yes ? In other words, no offense intended, dahling.) Right now, however ... I think you need to go to your room, young lady. And just so it's clear why, let me quote what Joan Crawford (probably, at some point) told her son, Christopher: "If I didn't care enough to want you to grow up to be a big, strong, well-rounded adult, I wouldn't take so much time tying you to your bed every night !" But don't worry -- even though you're confined to your room, I won't let you go hungry. Oh no ... I'll bring you your meals on a tray ... ! But ... "Didja know we have RATS in the cellar ?" * * Hint: This WILL be on your exam.

Ah, Bette ... a enigma wrapped in talent and tied up with tantrums. But WHhhATttt wasss with her pronun-ssseation of the letter Ssssss ? Sssstill ... in 1962, she provided one of the most profound bits of philosophy EVER ... There she is in the final scene of "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?" sitting on the beach with her sister who, with her dying breath, tries to explain before going Bette bye that -- Woop! Woop! Spoiler Alert! -- that it was SHE, Joanie the Just Sister, who was responsible for the accident that left her a cripple ... that it was NOT Batty the Bed -- er, Bette the Bad Sister's fault, even though Baddy Baby had been bearing the blame. Well, if ever there was a cue for Bette to go bonkers and bust out with bedlam ... that was it. But no. What does she do instead ? As if shouldering an anvil of regret, her lament is almost musical: "Aaaalllll of thisss time we coot haff been FRIENDSSSssss ..." I think of it every time there's another example of long-standing, ridiculous, pointless fighting, feuding and hatred that's gone in this world ... like, f'rinstance, the chronic catfight between Bette and Joan ! Did you know, for example, that Bette was nominated for Best Actress for "Baby Jane" ? Unfortunately for Bette, Joan had slyly agreed to accept the award should the Best Actress winner be unable to attend, and when the winner was announced -- "Anne Bancroft for 'The Miracle Worker'!!!" but Anne wasn't there, Joan stomped onto the stage and grrrrr!-aciously accepted the prize. Oh yes, she did: http://tinyurl.com/8yvesht And one source even claims it took nearly a year for Joan to finally hand that Oscar over to its rightful owner. Sssso maybe not everyone could -- "all of thissss time" -- have been "FRIENDSSSSssss" ... Time for one of the Top-5 best Bette Davis stories: In the late 40s, while gearing up for one of the last films of Davis' Warner Bros. contract, it seems there was some difficulty finding a Director of Photography who could make the aging star look as "fresh" as she demanded. One afternoon, in a screening room packed with executives, their entourages of hangers-on, and the dangerous Miss D., a film was run which had been shot by one candidate in bombed out Berlin. Finally, bored and annoyed, Davis suddenly stood up and shouted, "And why, may I asssk, should I wasssste my time considering THISsss man to be MY Director of Photography ?!?!" From the back of the room, one wag whispered just a bit too loudly: "He shoots ruins !" Precisely how long it took to clean a certain hanger-on's intestines from that screening room's walls has never determined.

This post's title brought to mind a somewhat obscure word/party game of the late 1950s -- the roots of which may possibly stretch back to *I Can Give You a Sentence* which the regulars of the Algonquin Round Table enjoyed playing, probably because it provided yet another outlet for their viciously competitive need to one-up each other with witticisms. Just for the record, Dorothy Parker not only became the All-Time Champion of *I Can Give You a Sentence* but may also have managed to curtail everyone else's desire to play the game, so intimidating a victory did she score when fellow Round Table habitue and now long-forgotten columnist Franklin P. Adams challenged her to give him a sentence using the word 'horticulture.' Before her table mates had even finished gasping at so stratospheric a raising of the proverbial bar, Dotty shot back: "You can lead a horticulture but you can't make her think." Perhaps, by the late 50s, this game "evolved" into the one that triggered the synapses which generated this relatively pointless post and was far more difficult than its predecessor(s) as it required the use of celebrities' names rather than mere words. The only example of it I can remember now is: "Cocktails always make Billy Wilder but if you see Audrey Totter, can Richard Walker ?" Another potential "distant relative" of these games was *If (Blank) Married (Blank)* which was based on the now (thankfully) disappearing practice of wives taking their husbands last names and became at least momentarily popular in the late 1960s thanks to "Rowan & Martin's Laugh In" : If Rhonda Fleming married Henry Fonda, she'd be Rhonda Fonda. If Judy Garland married Ron Moody, she'd be Judy Moody. If Minnie Haha married Don Ho, then divorced him and married Park Chung Hee, she'd be Minnie Haha Ho Hee. And if Eartha Kitt had married the guy on the oatmeal box ... would she have been an Eartha Quaker ? Yes ... *obviously* ... people were much more easily amused in those simpler times (understandable really, what with the wheel having just been invented n' all), but even sadder, some of us still are.