No Nonsense Glamour

 

 

Serving Stanwyck realness.

Kerr Trouble

"Rumors are flying thick and fast about who will play in From Here to Eternity...I can tell you that Burt Lancaster is deep in negotiations to co-star with Montgomery Clift, and Joan Crawford is about to put her name on a contract." -- Louella Parsons' column, January 13, 1953 

"Of all surprises: Deborah Kerr, who usually plays teacup-and-lifted-pinkie ladies, gets the super-sexy role of the captain's wife in From Here to Eternity." -- Louella Parsons' column, January 18, 1953

Deborah Kerr in From Here to Eternity (Columbia, 1953)

"Joan Crawford offered to do anything short of scrubbing the sound stages to snag the role of the officer's wife in From Here to Eternity, but the studio decided...she was a couple of years too old for the part." -- Erksine Johnson's column, February 24, 1953

"Joan had signed on for a major role in From Here to Eternity, even though director Fred Zinneman didn't want to use her. Her chief defender in this project was Columbia Pictures studio boss Harry Cohn. But even Cohn turned against Joan when she made it known that she hated her wardrobe for Eternity and demanded that her personal designer, Sheila O'Brien, be assigned to the picture." -- Lawrence J. Quirk, "Joan Crawford: The Essential Biography" (2002)

Joan Crawford in a Sheila O'Brien gown for Harriet Craig (Columbia, 1950)

"Joan Crawford's going back to glamour. Oscar-winner Helen Rose and fur designer Al Teitelbaum are collaborating on the mink and ermine creations she'll wear in MGM's Torch Song." -- Erksine Johnson's column, May 1, 1953

If she could turn back time: Joan Crawford on the set of Torch Song (MGM, 1953)

"I never go outside unless I look like 'Joan Crawford, the Movie Star.' If you want the girl next door, go next door!" -- Joan Crawford

Joan Crawford by Richard Avedon for Blackglama's "What Becomes a Legend Most?" campaign, 1969

Strange Bedfellows

"I'll have a nicer dressing room than you, because, let's face it -- I'm the star of the picture." -- Elizabeth Montgomery to Who's Been Sleeping in My Bed (1963) co-star Carol Burnett*

* Reportedly said in jest!

Eight Ball

LUCILLE BALL

August 6, 1911 - April 26, 1989

It's Miller Time!

ANN MILLER

April 12, 1923 - January 22, 2004

We pray that heaven is big enough for her talent, and hair.

Darling Liliane

She stalks the stage like a tigress, long, lean, lithe. Whippet thin and yet all woman -- not a hint of a waif-like urchin, or the trace of the athletic tomboy. Markedly French, deliciously feminine, intoxicatingly glamorous: we could only be describing Liliane Montevecchi, the feather boa-ed diva of MGM pictures; the Folies Bergère; the original Broadway production of Nine, which won her a Tony; and, now, a new one woman act entitled Hello, Darlings, which opened last night at 54 Below.

Taking the stage in all black, the left leg of her flowing pants slit and ruffled up the thigh to expose a leg to make Dietrich and Charisse sigh in envy, La Montevecchi held us all enthralled with her throaty, expressive voice and exquisite presence. The song program held few true surprises ("La Vie En Rose"? Check. "Les Feuilles Morte [Autumn Leaves]"? Check. "Ne Me Quitte Pas"? Check.), but what counted was the presentation. It was a master class in owning a stage, and commanding an audience. It was absolutely compelling. This sophisticated, New York audience banged tables, shouted anguished declarations of love, screamed and "Brava!"-ed. 

Liliane Montevecchi in the 1950's: the legs look even better today.

We are also happy to report that we can now add "made our nightclub debut" to our resume -- we were summoned with one of La Montevecchi's elegant, flawlessly lacquered fingers to the stage. Truth be told, we didn't have to do much -- in fact, "You just sort of stand there... Don't move!" as "our" number instructed. Yes, darlings, last night, we were Liliane Montevecchi's human prop for "A New Fangled Tango." When we first stepped into the spotlight, we looked out at the audience. "Don't look at them!" La Montevecchi said sharply, in a tone worthy of Gloria Swanson. "Only look at me!" Of course, we did as we were told. And it wasn't difficult to do, with those enormous, coal-black eyes of hers rooting us firmly in place.

When the song ended, we stood still for a moment as the crowd applauded. In what we imagined displayed crack comic timing, we stage whispered out of the corner of our mouth, "May I move now?" Exiting the nightclub some time later, we stopped by the table of Marilyn Maye, who just wrapped up her own triumphant, two-weeks-long-and-then-some-by-popular-demand run at 54 Below (read about it here). "Honey, a star is born!" she joked. It was only after we stepped outside and began our walk home that we suddenly went weak in the knees, and everything seemed a little blurry. My God, we realized. We had just been on stage with Liliane Montevecchi, in front of Marilyn Maye. And Tommy Tune. And Arlene Dahl. And heaven knows who else. (Ms. Montevecchi isn't big on celebrity introductions from the stage.) Oh, all we had to do was stand still and be a stooge, but what a great audience to be a stooge for! 

Arlene Dahl

Tommy Tune

Marvelous Marilyn Maye

It was a thrilling evening of stories, songs, and leg lifting (yes, she can still raise one above her head without hesitation) and Liliane Montevecchi is only performing one more show at 54 Below, tonight. See you on the stage!

Buy tickets here.

The Fabulous Forties: Paulette Goddard

In the opening credits of The Women (1939), the stars of the all-female cast are introduced with various members of the animal kingdom representing their respective characters. As the sly golddigger, Miriam Aarons, Paulette Goddard is symbolized by a fox. It couldn't have been a more apropos parallel, both for the character and the actress.

Paulette Goddard was smart, sexy, clever, crafty -- and foxy. She was also a major contract star at Paramount for nearly all of the 1940's, although even at the height of her movie fame, Goddard was perhaps better known (as she is now) for her off-screen exploits, romances and scandals. When, more than 40 years after her greatest stardom, Paulette Goddard left a multi-million dollar estate, including priceless art, fabulous jewels and magnificent properties, it was the culmination of years of not only hard work, but also canny opportunism and a healthy dose of feminine wiles.

Born Marion Pauline Levy on June 10, 1910, the future Paulette Goddard was extraordinarily beautiful from the start, working as a child model, and becoming a Ziegfeld Girl at the tender age of 13. By 16, she had married a wealthy New York businessman, shedding him a few years later for a substantial cash settlement, which Goddard used to subsidize her move to Hollywood with her mother.

Paulette Goddard in the Ziegfeld Follies production of Rio Rita (1927)

Along with other future luminaries Lucille Ball, Betty Grable and Ann Sothern, the newly minted starlet became a "Goldwyn Girl," appearing in such Sam Goldwyn productions as Roman Scandals (1933) and Kid Millions (1934). It was during this period that Goddard met Charlie Chaplin, and the two began a romance which would both help and hinder Goddard's ambitions for stardom.

Paulette Goddard as a Goldwyn Girl, circa 1933

Claiming to have been married in China, Chaplin and Goddard brazenly lived together in his Beverly Hills mansion, shocking the public and raising the eyebrows of even decadent Hollywoodites. By refusing to comment on the matter publicly, the couple stoked the fires of speculation -- all good for publicity and name value, in Goddard's case, but not beneficial for her reputation in the long run.

Husband and wife? Paulette Goddard and Charlie Chaplin, 1938

After her acclaimed appearance in Chaplin's Modern Times (1936), Goddard's career stalled -- Chaplin planned future projects for his was-she-or-wasn't-she-wife, but these never came to fruition. Frustrated, Goddard signed a contract with producer David O. Selznick, appearing first in The Young in Heart (1938), third-billed above the title with Janet Gaynor and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.

Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. and Paulette Goddard in The Young in Heart (1938, United Artists)

Selznick then loaned Goddard out to MGM for their all-star production of Clare Boothe Luce's cat-fest, The Women (1939). In her flashy role as a street-smart showgirl who marries into high society, Goddard was in her element, and more than held her own against the likes of Norma Shearer, Joan Crawford and Rosalind Russell, having a memorable on-screen brawl with the latter.

Louis B. Mayer, Paulette Goddard and George Cukor at the premiere of The Women (1939, MGM)

It was a reunion of sorts for Goddard and director George Cukor; she had been David O. Selznick's front-runner choice for the hotly coveted role of Scarlett O'Hara in his production of Gone with the Wind. Cukor was the initial director on the project, and it was he who guided Goddard through her series of screen tests, including the only Technicolor screen test given to any of the multitude of potential Scarletts; many considered her a shoe-in. What may have ultimately cost Goddard the part, however, was the stigma of scandal which still clung to her unorthodox relationship with Chaplin; Selznick, in spite of his friendship with the couple, delayed in officially offering Goddard the role of Scarlett because of his concerns about the public's response to her private life. In the interim, the relatively unknown British actress Vivien Leigh arrived in Hollywood, determined to throw her hat into the ring. The die was cast. Selznick had found his perfect Scarlett, and it wasn't Paulette Goddard.

However, all of the publicity surrounding Gone with the Wind, combined with her strong showing in The Women, did result in a surge of interest in Goddard's career. She signed directly with Paramount, and was teamed with comedian Bob Hope in the hit comic thriller, The Cat and the Canary (1939). It signaled the beginning of major stardom for both players, and they were paired in two further films, The Ghost Breakers (1940) and Nothing But the Truth (1941).

Bob Hope and Paulette Goddard in The Cat and the Canary (1939, Paramount)

1940 was truly a banner year for Goddard, as she appeared with Chaplin once again in The Great Dictator, acquitted herself respectably alongside Fred Astaire in Second Chorus, and appeared in the first of three epic films she would make for Cecil B. DeMille, North West Mounted Police. But as her popularity and profile soared, Goddard continued to court scandal. Even as questions still lingered about her "marriage," she carried on torrid romances with the likes of composer George Gershwin, writer H.G. Wells and director Anatole Litvak. The latter was dining with Goddard at Ciro's in Hollywood when her diamond shoulder strap fell off and under the table. Litvak went down to retrieve it, and by the next morning, tongues were wagging across town that Litvak had been performing oral sex on Goddard at Ciro's. The story was repeated so often, embellished each time, that it would dog Goddard for the rest of her life, and derailed Litvak's career for several years.

There were whispers of Goddard's dalliances with women, as well. She reportedly had an affiar with the Mexican painter, Frida Kahlo ("If only one of them had been blonde," mused Salvador Dali, "they'd have made a perfectly beautiful couple!"); and in the late 1940's, Goddard's close friendship with actress Evelyn Keyes (who, ironically, had played Scarlett O'Hara's sister Suellen in Gone with the Wind) gave gossip-mongers something to talk about, especially when Goddard briefly moved into the home Keyes was sharing with then-boyfriend Peter Lawford, prompting rumors of a ménage à trois. As David Selznick's chief of publicity, Russell Birdwell, had warned years earlier, when considering Goddard for Gone with the Wind: "I have never known a woman, intent on a career dependent upon her popularity with the masses, to hold and live such an insane and absurd attitude towards the press and her fellow man as does Paulette Goddard."

A way with the ladies: Paulette Goddard as a cross-dressing caballero in Pot o' Gold (1941, United Artists)

Living well is the best revenge, though, and if some quarters clucked in disapproval, Goddard probably just laughed and eyed the growing collection of jewelry lavished upon her by smitten admirers; one of her most infamous pieces was a dazzling diamond necklace comprised of 570 stones, made possible, she said, by keeping all of her engagement rings. And, for a while, Goddard's star continued to rise. She obtained a Mexican divorce from Chaplin in 1942, the same year that she starred in her second DeMille epic, Reap the Wild Wind, in which she portrayed a very Scarlett O'Hara-esque Southern belle. Continuing her hot streak, Goddard was nominated for a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her role in So Proudly We Hail (1943), and two years later, had her career peak with the lavish star vehicle, Kitty (1945).

Paulette Goddard and Ray Milland in Kitty (1945, Paramount)

It was the beginning of the end, however. Her next film, Diary of a Chambermaid (1946), was an expensive failure largely viewed as a vanity project, filmed under the newly-formed production company Goddard had launched with her third husband, actor Burgess Meredith. Goddard's capricious nature and temperamental behavior, though, were what finally spelled the end to her movie stardom: co-workers and directors certainly didn't hold her in affectionate regard (even the famously diplomatic Edith Head recalled Goddard as one of only a handful of actresses she disliked), and when her career fortunes began to slide, not many were willing to step in to help.

Diary of a Chambermaid (1946, United Artists)

For instance, Goddard clashed badly with Cecil B. DeMille during the filming of their third picture together, Unconquered (1947), walking off the set and requiring the use of her stand-in for certain scenes. She never worked with the legendary director again, and when DeMille was casting The Greatest Show on Earth (1952), at a time when Goddard was desperately in need of a hit, she begged for the role ultimately played by Gloria Grahame. He refused.

Unconquered (1947, Paramount)

Two more disastrous vanity projects finished off Goddard's career as a major star. In Bride of Vengeance (1949), she played a heavily fictionalized Lucretia Borgia while decked out in some strange makeup and hairstyle choices; her longtime cosmetician tried to dissuade her, which only resulted in their dismissal. The film was crucified by the critics, with many commenting unfavorably about Goddard's appearance. Its follow up, Anna Lucasta (1949), cast Goddard as a wanton floozy surrounded by even more sordid characters; the general consensus was that the germ of a good idea was lost amid heavy-handed direction and overheated acting.

The infamous makeup job on the set of Bride of Vengeance (1949, Paramount)

Practically overnight, Goddard slipped from studio contract star to making cheapies like the infamous Babes from Bagdad (1952) and Sins of Jezebel (1953), the titles of which pretty much say it all. She turned to summer stock and television, and was reputedly down to her jewels and a few hundred dollars in cash when she married husband number four, author Erich Maria Remarque, in 1958. Goddard was now able to indulge fully in the life of a wealthy socialite, amassing a remarkable collection of art with her husband as they divided their time between Europe and New York.

Paulette Goddard, circa 1954

During her final marriage, Goddard only made one minor film; after Remarque's death in 1970, she made one last television appearance on an episode of The Snoop Sisters (1972), a 90 minute mystery-comedy series starring Helen Hayes and Mildred Natwick. She continued to make the rounds of New York society, still svelte, beautiful and bejeweled, often in the unlikely company of Andy Warhol. But age and illness were taking their toll, and Goddard, who had always been known for her prickly personality, was beginning to exhibit bizarre, sometimes outlandishly cruel behavior.

Richard Avedon photo used for Blackglama's What Becomes a Legend Most? campaign, 1971

In 1975, amid great secrecy, Goddard had a radical mastectomy; for a woman who had spent nearly her entire life parlaying her good looks into material wealth, the after effects were devastating: physical deterioration, depression and a series of suicide attempts. Goddard retreated to her lakeside Swiss villa, where she finally died of heart failure in 1990.


Had she played by the rules, Paulette Goddard may have become a more enduring name in Hollywood, with a career that could have lasted far beyond the 10 year span of her greatest success. Certainly, she had the sparkle, talent and looks to become a superstar. But instead of international headlines and grief-stricken fans, upon her death the only mourners at her sparsely-attended funeral were her immediate household staff. In the end, the spirited, defiant, unapologetic Goddard probably wouldn't have cared. As her longtime housekeeper later reflected, “She always told me that she had three husbands and several fiances waiting for her in heaven.”

* For more on Paulette Goddard's later years, please visit our friend Brooks Peters at An Open Book

Wood Wiggery

The mystery wig, and Natalie Wood wearing it in a publicity still for All the Fine Young Cannibals (1960)

In spite of such novel guesses as Errol Flynn, John Travolta and Tony Curtis, our latest Mystery Guest was, indeed, decidedly female: Miss Natalie Wood! The wig in question was worn by Natalie in the all-star potboiler, All the Fine Young Cannibals (1960). Besides Nat, the jaw-dropping cast also included her then-hubby, Robert Wagner; Susan Kohner, fresh off of her brilliant performance as the tragic mulatto passing for "white, white, WHITE!!!!" in Imitation of Life (1959); rising young smoothie George Hamilton; and Pearl Bailey (!).

This foray into the "love hungry world of the sophisticated young moderns" was another tentative step towards full-fledged adult stardom for Natalie, who had grown up in front of the camera. As a child star, she appeared in such classics as The Ghost and Mrs. Muir and Miracle on 34th Street (both 1947); as a budding teen starlet, she scored with Rebel without a Cause (1955) and The Searchers (1956). But as a bona fide leading lady, Wood had yet to make an impression; her first attempt, Marjorie Morningstar (1958), was considered something of a misfire, and a lesser credit for her established co-star, Gene Kelly.


In spite of its glamorous cast, plush trappings, and melodramatic plot, Cannibals fared even worse with the critics, and it seemed that adult stardom was going to elude Natalie's grasp. However, within a year, she surprised everyone with the hat trick of West Side Story and Splendor in the Grass (both 1961) and Gypsy (1962). Suddenly, Natalie was not only a star, but a superstar -- a box office draw and an Oscar-nominated actress. Love with the Proper Stranger (1963) continued her critical and commercial streak, culminating in another Oscar nod; but then it became all too easy to knock on Wood again as Natalie found herself alternating between glossy, inconsquential sex comedies like Sex and the Single Girl (1964) and Penelope (1966); and glossy, improbable melodramas like Inside Daisy Clover (1965) and This Property is Condemned (1966).


Apart from the all-star Blake Edwards comedy, The Great Race (1965), all of Natalie's 1964-66 output was met with lukewarm critical response, and some outright reviling. She was off the screen for nearly three years, battling emotional issues (and turning down Bonnie and Clyde in the process) before making a comeback in the now-dated, but then-sensational Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice (1969). Although the film was one of the Top 10 box office hits of the year, Natalie decided to concentrate on raising her family rather than take advantage of her newly-restored popularity. She did periodically make celebrated television appearances, most notably in the telefilms Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1976) and The Cracker Factory (1979), and the mini-series From Here to Eternity (1978). Her movie ventures were less carefully considered; Meteor (1979) was a disaster film in every sense of the word, and The Last Married Couple in America (1980) was middling entertainment, at best. Still, the lingering stardust of Natalie's storied history as one of the last links to the Golden Age of Hollywood was enough to give her legendary status -- at least according to Blackglama, who tapped her for their campaign in 1981.


The "What Becomes a Legend Most" ad featuring Natalie was running worldwide when the shocking news of her death at age 43 made headlines. Having harbored a lifelong fear of water, Natalie died in a drowning accident when she fell overboard from the yacht she shared with Robert Wagner, whom she had remarried in 1972. Strangely, Natalie's mysterious, early death has somehow failed to make her as mythic as, say, James Dean, her former co-star and friend. We hope that occasional tributes like these contribute in some small way to keeping her flame alive; she may not have been the greatest of actresses, but Natalie Wood was, indeed, a genuine movie star -- one of the last created by the greatest myth of all, Classic Hollywood.