Your Good Girl's Gonna Go Bad

Jane Powell

Doris Day

Janet Leigh

Jeanne Crain

Mitzi Gaynor

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Dueling Irenes

Wiglet-to-wiglet combat.

Lend Me a Crooner

In the pantheon of great American male pop singers, there's an unfortunate tendency to place them into only two designations: Sinata, and Everybody Else. The temptation is understandable: when Sinatra exploded onto the scene in the 1940's, his contemporaries, and his immediate successors in the early 1950's, all covered the same kind of romantic ballad repertoire; all possessed clean cut good looks; and almost all were Italian-American.

Young man with a song: Vic Damone, 1947

Today's birthday celebrant is Vic Damone, born Vito Rocco Farinola, the skinny Brooklyn boy who went from Paramount Theater usher to singing sensation almost overnight (discovered by another Sinatra competitor, Perry [formerly Pierino] Como). He seemingly shadowed Sinatra even more closely than the rest; twice in his career, Damone was signed by Sinatra's former record labels in a bid to replace their golden gander -- in 1956, by Columbia, after Sinatra had defected to Capitol; then in 1961, it was Capitol who came calling, after Sinatra jumped ship to begin his own imprint, Reprise. And when Sinatra had a row with Louis B. Mayer and was fired from MGM in 1951, guess who was signed to a movie contract?


But it would be wrong to dismiss Vic Damone as a mere Sinatra clone. For one thing, the sheer beauty of his voice is dazzling: more classically trained than Sinatra's; prettier and more supple than Tony Bennett's; more muscular than Jack Jones'. And for another, in his relatively brief film career, Damone demonstrated a natural, easy charm in front of the camera, as well as a more traditionally handsome face and form than his idol.


Unfortunately, none of Damone's films for MGM were particularly memorable. He made his debut in Rich, Young and Pretty (1951) -- the title referring, incidentally, to Metro's resident operatic chirper, Jane Powell, not Damone! Although he made a positive impression, especially with the female audience, the film itself was no more than a charming diversion.

Vic Damone (top) with Wendell Corey, Jane Powell and Fernando Lamas in Rich, Young and Pretty (1951, MGM)

A stint in the Army placed Damone's career on hold briefly; upon his return, he was quickly cast in four musicals: Athena (1954), Deep in My Heart (1954), Hit the Deck (1955), and Kismet (1955), all but the last with Powell.

Deep in My Heart (1954, MGM)

Hit the Deck (1955, MGM)

Vic Damone and Jane Powell on the set of Athena (1954, MGM)

All were resounding failures, and such participants as Damone, Powell, Howard Keel, Ann Miller and Dolores Gray found themselves unceremoniously dropped from MGM's roster of stars. Damone's musical fortunes, however, continued to shine brightly: since his meteoric debut in 1947, Damone had notched up an impressive run of Top 10 hits, and in 1956, he scored one of his biggest, a cover of "On the Street Where You Live" from My Fair Lady. The following year, Damone could be heard crooning the lachrymose title song to An Affair to Remember (1957) starring Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr, and scored yet another major hit.


Almost overnight, however, the hit records dried up, as rock and roll swept the country. Damone's personal life was in shambles, as well: he had married Italian-born starlet Pier Angeli in an unexpected 1954 ceremony -- surprising everyone, including Angeli's lover, James Dean, who, according to urban legend, sat outside of the church during the wedding, weeping astride his motorcycle.

Vic Damone and Pier Angeli marry, November 24, 1954

When the Damone/Angeli marriage ended in 1958, it was amid ugly accusations of gambling, infidelity, alcohol abuse and wife beating. The publicity didn't help Damone's public image, which was already tainted by what many perceived as cockiness and brazen egoism. He was dropped by his press agents, blasted by his own manager as a "S.O.B.," and was in and out of courtrooms as he and Angeli waged a bitter custody battle over their son, Perry; at one point, Angeli actually had Damone arrested for kidnapping when he violated a visitation order.

Perry Damone, Pier Angeli and Vic Damone (with second wife, Judy Rawlins) following a custody hearing, 1965

Redeeming Damone's image somewhat was the surprise success of a 1962 summer replacement series called The Lively Ones, which Damone hosted, aided by two comely sidekicks, Joan Stanley and Shirley Yelm. Showcasing an impressive array of jazz talent, ranging from Peggy Lee and Ella Fitzgerald to Dave Brubeck and Shelley Manne, the program was clearly aimed at a sophisticated, adult audience, and Damone was praised for his hosting skills, as well as his musical abilities. It was considered such a hit, Capitol quickly issued a "tie-in" album by Damone to cash in on the show's success.


The Lively Ones returned for the summer of 1963, this time with Quinn O'Hara and Gloria Neill supporting Damone. And, once again, Capitol decided to "capitol"-ize on its popularity by titling one of Damone's albums after it: The Liveliest captured Damone's slick nightclub act at New York's famed Basin Street East -- and, in a nod to the show's sponsor, Damone, O'Hara and Neill were prominently photographed with a gleaming new Ford Galaxie 500.


Strangely, despite his obvious appeal and talent, Damone never had a regular series of his own, although he hosted several other summer replacements, starting back in 1957 with, appropriately enough, The Vic Damone Show; and, in the summer of 1967, The Dean Martin Summer Show with Broadway vet Carol Lawrence and Dino's daughter, Gail Martin.

Vic Damone with Carol Lawerence and Gail Martin, The Dean Martin Summer Show (1967)

Although Elvis, and then the Beatles, spelled the death knell for the crooners on the charts, Damone and his contemporaries retained a steady, popular presence throughout the 1960's, thanks to television and nightclub work. Things started to bottom out in the 1970's, however; Damone declared bankruptcy in 1971, and that same year, his ex-wife, Pier Angeli, died at age 39 from a drug overdose. Three years later, his second wife, Judy Rawlings, committed suicide in the same manner.

L-R: Twin sister Marisa Pavan, son Perry Damone, mother Enrica Pierangeli, drama coach Helen Sorrell, and ex-husband Vic Damone arrive at Pier Angeli's funeral, September 13, 1971

Damone paid of his debts by touring constantly, particularly the lucrative Las Vegas circuit, and enjoyed a resurgence of popularity in the 1980's, particularly when he married fourth wife Diahann Carroll, who was just coming off of the height of her Dynasty fame. The two performed a well-received act together, but would eventually divorce in 1996. Despite their nearly 10 year union, the breakup was not a pleasant one, with Carroll later revealing some harrowing details about what she described as his demeaning behavior towards her, and Damone suggesting that Carroll's hard-as-nails ambition and show business drive were at odds with what was by then his more laid-back lifestyle.

Vic Damone and Diahann Carroll, 1990

Since 1998, Damone has been married to fifth wife Rena, and seems content to have left his tumultuous past behind in favor of a relaxed family life. He has aged well and gracefully, and although he's been effectively retired since 2001, friends and family report that his gorgeous pipes are still in fine shape -- he simply would rather play golf and spend time with his six grandchildren than make the concert hall rounds again. In his best recordings, and in the glimpses of potential shown in his MGM films, Damone steps out from behind Sinatra's shadow to leave a lovely legacy of song.

VIC DAMONE
June 12, 1928

Girlfriends

Ethel Merman, Mae West and Judy Garland

Irene Dunne and Barbara Stanwyck

Susan Hayward and Ingrid Bergman

Dorothy Lamour, Gracie Allen and Betty Hutton

Jane Powell, Noel Coward and Zsa Zsa Gabor

Three's a Crowd...

...Talu's a party!

That Gibson Girl

SSUWAT's good friend Michael O'Sullivan of Mike's Movie Projector recently posed the query: "Who is Virginia Gibson?"

Frankly, we had no idea. But you asked, Mike; we researched. It would seem that Virginia Gibson is the former Virginia Gorski (born April 9, 1928) of St. Louis, MO. A triple-threat singer, dancer and actress, Virginia became a Warner Brothers contract player in 1950, making her debut in the Doris Day box office bonanza, Tea for Two. A year later, Gibson was appearing in a straight, non-musical role with an even more formidable star, none other than Joan Crawford. Goodbye, My Fancy (1951) was a misfire, with a miscast, leaden Crawford in a role originated on the stage by the patrician British beauty Madeleine Carroll.

Lulu Hubbard and Madeline Carroll in the stage version of Goodbye, My Fancy (1948)

Joan Crawford and Eve Arden in the film version of Goodbye, My Fancy (1951)

Perhaps the miscasting as a congresswoman visiting her alma mater had Crawford even more on edge than usual; instead of taking the young actresses playing the fictional university's co-eds under her wing (a la her championing of Ann Blyth, who played her daughter in Mildred Pierce), Crawford went on the attack, famously calling out Janice Rule in front of the cast and crew: "Miss Rule," Queen Crawford intoned icily, "you'd better enjoy making films while you can. I doubt you'll be with us for long." Gibson apparently played it safe by staying as far out of Crawford's immediate eyesight as possible: that's her in the below still, to the very far right, next to a rather apprehensive-looking Miss Rule.

The atmosphere was undoubtedly sunnier on the sets of Gibson's next few films: friendly, cheerful, inconsequential, low-budget musicals presumably churned out to finance Doris Day's extravaganzas: Painting the Clouds with Sunshine (1951) with reliable B-unit bombshell Virginia Mayo; About Face (1952), about hidden pregnancies at a military academy (!), teaming Gibson with Gordon McRae; and Stop, You're Killing Me (1952), a slight Damon Runyon tale with old pros Broderick Crawford and Claire Trevor as Gibson's parents.

Lucille Norman, Virginia Gibson and Virginia Mayo in Painting the Clouds with Sunshine (1951)

Bill Hayes, Virginia Gibson, Claire Trevor and Broderick Crawford in Stop, You're Killing Me (1952)

Gibson traded up from Warners to go to Metro in 1954, immediately landing a role as one of the lucky seven in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. She was paired with the New York City Ballet star Jacques d'Amboise, who, in the full flush of his youthful virility, may have been even prettier than she at the time.

Seven brides: Jane Powell, Virginia Gibson, Norma Doggett, Ruta Lee, Betty Carr, Nancy Kigas, Julie Newmar

Her next MGM feature, Athena (1954), cast Gibson as one of three sisters, once again with Jane Powell, and this time with the indefatigable Debbie Reynolds to round out the trio. Athena is one of those supremely weird, cobbled-together musical curiosities that Metro was putting out at the time, as it flailed wildly in an attempt to do battle with television; the refreshingly straightforward, old-fashioned Seven Brides was, sadly, an exception to the rule in 1954. If Athena is remembered at all today, it's for the campy presence of such bodybuilding talent as then-Mr. Universe, future Hercules Steve Reeves and Mae West plaything Dick DuBois.

Dick DuBois, Debbie Reynolds and Steve Reeves

Jane Powell and Steve Reeves

Once the gold standard of movie musical making, MGM made some of the worst ever between 1954 and 1955, including Athena, Kismet, Jupiter's Darling and Hit the Deck. Obviously, the timing couldn't have been worse for a new musical talent like Virginia Gibson to join the payroll; she was let go, although judging from her imdb.com entry, Gibson was kept fairly busy through 1956 with steady television work, including a regular gig on The Johnny Carson Show (1955-56), a precursor to his work on Tonight.

Virginia Gibson, Johnny Carson and Joan Carson

From there it was to Broadway, and perhaps Gibson's finest hour: the ill-fated, yet still-talked about Ethel Merman vehicle, Happy Hunting. Although it had tremendous advance sales, and was a respectable hit, the show became more famous for its backstage battles than for anything happening in front of the audience. The bickering between Ethel and her devastatingly handsome leading man, Fernando Lamas, is legendary; he responded to her characteristic scene-stealing, as well as her personal antagonism, by wearing his costumes so tight, that the audiences literally gasped at the sight of his manhood. Even The Merm couldn't steal focus from that. On April 7, 1957, Lamas appeared as the Mystery Guest on What's My Line?; starting at the 3:51 mark, that naughty, naughty Arlene Francis slips and slides around the subject of Fernando's costumes and his manliness, while Mr. Mahvelous himself jokingly quips that the censors wouldn't allow him to be seen on television as he did on stage.

The score, too, had its share of naysayers (the most vocal of whom was Merman!), although in retrospect, it's as bright, entertaining and hummable as any other hit or near-hit show of the period. "Gee, But it's Good to Be Here" is classic Merman all the way, and her duet with Gibson, "Mutual Admiration Society," was popular and catchy enough to become a minor standard on its own. Gibson was nominated for a Tony as Best Featured Actress in a Musical, and the show ran for a healthy (if emotionally draining) 412 performances. And, because the ghost of Kay Thompson seems to running amok around here lately, we feel compelled to mention that Ethel quietly brought Thompson and Roger Edens in to "spruce up" Matt Dubey and Harold Karr's score, adding "I'm Old Enough to Know Better (and Young Enough Not to Care)" and "Just a Moment Ago" to the song list. Also, Gibson made a final, fleeting film appearance with the divine Kay as one of Maggie Prescott's assistants in Funny Face (1957), which was filmed just before Happy Hunting opened on Broadway in December 1956.




After that, Gibson made a handful of dramatic television guest appearances, before settling in for a nine year run as the host of the ABC Sunday morning children's show, Discovery (1962-71). Presumably, that was more benign than the Merman-Lamas battling she had endured. After that, the trail goes cold; perhaps some SSUWAT-er out there "in the know" can tell us what ever happened to Virginia Gibson?