Hidden Jewell

Gertrude Lawrence

Joan Davis

The most popular guesses for our latest Mystery Guest were, respectively, musical comedy legend Gertrude Lawrence and comedienne Joan Davis. Popular, but wrong. Personally, while we can see shades of Gertie in our MG, we don't see Davis at all -- but we would have understood, had any of you guessed Katherine Cornell, Ilka Chase, or even Gloria Guinness!

Katharine Cornell

Ilka Chase

Gloria Guinness

You would, however, still have been wrong. No, our Mystery Guest is not any of these soignee, gracious ladies of the thea-tah or society pages; she's Isabel Jewell, the snappy broad who will be forever immortalized as "that poor white trash, Emmy Slattery" in Gone with the Wind (1939).

Miss Jewell specialized in playing tough cookies; she was even romantically linked in real life with the fast-talking actor Lee Tracy, which would have been a marriage made in pre-Code heaven. Among her more notable appearances were Manhattan Melodrama (1934), which is remembered as the first pairing of William Powell and Myrna Loy, as well as the last film John Dillinger ever saw (he was gunned down by federal agents upon exiting the theater); and as one of Bette Davis' fellow dance hall "hostesses" in Marked Woman (1937).

L-R: Mayo Methot, Lola Lane, Bette Davis, Rosalind Marquis and Isabel Jewell in Marked Woman (1937, Warner Bros.)

Aside from her gallery of various floozies, chippies and molls, Jewell also won notice for her against-type portrayal of a doomed seamstress destined for the guillotine in A Tale of Two Cities (1935). Her most substantial role, however, was as the sympathetic prostitute in Lost Horizon (1937).

Publicity for Lost Horizon (1937, Columbia)

Despite her strong showings in an impressive number of major, A list features, Jewell's career went into an almost immediate decline following Gone with the Wind; she appeared in such unsavory productions as Babies for Sale (1940) and the Poverty Row comedy Danger! Women at Work (1943).

Lobby card for Danger! Women at Work (1943, PRC)

By the end of the 1940's, Jewell was back in prestige productions like The Snake Pit and Unfaithfully Yours (both 1948), but in unbilled bit parts. Around this time, she also began cultivating a considerably more refined image, after years of being typecast as the brassy blonde.

Isabel Jewell, ca. 1940's

During the 1950's, television brought a steadier flow of work, but like so many unfortunate cases before her, Jewell fell on hard times: she was arrested in 1959 for passing bad checks, and again a few years later for drunk driving. She died at age 64, from undisclosed causes, in 1972; and posthumously entered the cult film annals via her appearances as Edie Sedgwick's mother in Ciao! Manhattan (1972) and a snoopy landlady in Tab Hunter's sleaze-shocker Sweet Kill (1973).

Isabel Jewell, ca. 1964

The profile-less "David" correctly guessed Miss Jewell, as did our ever-astute Toby Worthington -- a "jewell" of a fellow, himself. As always, thanks for playing, darlings; and for being patient while you waited for the reveal!

Guess Who?

(If you already know, let everyone else guess first, darlings!)

A Ghost Story

This is not a pre-surgery Joan Rivers...

Joan Rivers and Ed Sullivan, ca. 1968

...nor is it Florencia Bisenta de Casillas Martinez Cardona (a.k.a. Vikki Carr).

Vikki Carr, ca. 1965

No, this lovely lady is our latest Mystery Guest: the deliciously throaty thrush, Miss India Adams!


Miss Adams is, of course, best known as the "ghost voice" employed by MGM for Cyd Charisse and Joan Crawford in the 1953 pictures, The Band Wagon and Torch Song, respectively. In the former, Adams dubbed Charisse for "New Sun in a New Sky," as well as the ensemble finale, "That's Entertainment."

Oscar Levant, Cyd Charisse, Jack Buchanan, Fred Astaire and Nanette Fabray perform "That's Entertainment!" in The Band Wagon (1953, MGM)

Charisse actually filmed another solo spot, dubbed by Adams, for The Band Wagon, entitled "Two Faced Woman." It was ultimately cut from the film, but when Adams was assigned to supply the singing voice for Joan Crawford in Torch Song, the number was resurrected -- only to be staged, inexplicably, in a "tropical" setting, with Crawford and her chorines made up like refugees from a minstrel show.

Joan Crawford is a "Two Faced Woman" in Torch Song (1953, MGM)

The other numbers recorded by Adams-as-Crawford included the already well-known pop hit, "Tenderly"; "You Won't Forget Me," which was apparently considered memorable enough for popular jazz starlet Helen Merrill to include on her With Strings album two years later; and "Follow Me," which Crawford herself recorded (in hopes of providing the vocals for her entire characterization).

Re-edited video of "Follow Me" from Torch Song with Joan Crawford's own vocal

Interestingly, Adams would later recall her experience with Crawford quite fondly, while remembering Cyd Charisse as cold and unfriendly. Unfortunately, Adams' friendship with Crawford -- which lasted beyond filming -- came to an abrupt end when MGM released a recording of the numbers from Torch Song, giving Adams full credit for the vocals -- something which was rarely done at that time, with the studios (and the stars themselves) preferring to let the fans believe that the actors were doing the actual chirping. MGM had expressly told Adams not to let Crawford know about the record until its release, and the perceived deception hurt Crawford deeply. Still, to this day, Adams has nothing but praise for Queen Joan.


Following her brief run as a celebrity ghost at MGM, Adams relocated to New York, where she performed in theatre (including Can-Can and The Most Happy Fella); toured nightclubs, such as the famed Latin Quarter; and recorded a highly sought after album for RCA, Comfort Me with Apples (1959), which is a masterpiece of the "sex kitten chanteuse" genre popularized by the likes of Eartha Kitt, Abbe Lane and Lola Albright.


The next stop for India Adams was England, which she made her home base from 1965 until 1981. In 1969, she was the stand by for Ginger Rogers when the latter starred as Mame at the Drury Lane Theater; in true old trouper fashion, Rogers never missed a performance, even when ill, so Adams never had the chance to make her West End bow.

Ginger Rogers and India Adams


Newsreel footage of Ginger Rogers as Mame

She may have made a career out of singing, subbing or standing by for superstars, without ever becoming one herself; but among the discerning few, India Adams is a fondly remembered talent -- and she's still going strong, having performed most recently in Hollywood this past January. We think she's just sensational!


We're sorry we've been so ghost-like ourselves of late, but we hope to be back to our normal pace very soon. As always, thanks for playing, darlings!



Official website HERE.

Guess Who?

(Remember, darlings -- if you already know, let everyone else guess first!)

Gilding the Lily

For nearly thirty years, Lily Pons was the principal coloratura soprano at the Metropolitan Opera. Moreover, she transcended the rarified opera world to become a bona fide movie star, a radio fixture, a major concert draw, and an international symbol of glamour, charm and grace.


Born near the turn of the century in Draguignan, Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur, France, Pons first studied piano as a child. Her formal voice training didn't begin until 1925; remarkably, she made her professional debut in 1928 in the difficult title role of Léo Delibes' Lakmé. Pons continued to build her reputation and repertoire, appearing at various provincial opera houses throughout France.

At the beginning of her opera career in France, circa 1928

Pons successfully auditioned for the Metropolitan Opera in New York in 1930, at the urging of her mentor, Giovanni Zenatello, who, in the twilight of his stellar singing career, offered guidance to upcoming talent. As it happened, the Met had recently lost their resident coloratura, and in an operatic twist on the classic Ruby Keeler "You're goin' out a nobody, kid, and comin' back a star!" riff, the unknown Pons was quickly put into that spot, making an unprecedented Met debut in January 1931. She became, literally, a star overnight; the acclaim was extraordinary, though not without dissenters -- notably, the New York Times felt she showed more promise than actual talent. The most oft-heard criticism throughout her career was of Pons' supposedly "small" voice; although what it lacked in volume, her admirers felt it made up in delicacy and overall strength: she could hold a high "D" for one minute.

Just before leaving for Hollywood, 1935

Now firmly ensconced as the Met's new star coloratura, it was only a matter of time before Pons was courted by Hollywood. The operetta musical was at the apex of its brief popularity, making a superstar out of MGM's Jeanette MacDonald, while Pons' fellow Metropolitan soprano, Grace Moore, earned an Oscar nomination as Best Actress for Columbia's One Night of Love (1934). Pons signed with RKO, and made three moderately successful films: I Dream Too Much (1935), That Girl from Paris (1936) and Hitting a New High (1937).

With Henry Fonda in I Dream Too Much (1935)

Making music with Jack Oakie, Lucille Ball and Frank Jenks in That Girl from Paris (1936)

Hitting a New High (1937) with John Howard

Although movie critics generally praised Pons' "bird-like charm" and, predictably, her singing talents, the films were rightly assessed as mere diversions, and Pons turned her attentions back to the Met and, in 1944-45, an ambitious concert tour. Canceling her fall and winter season in New York, Pons traveled overseas with the USO, performing for the troops in such far-flung places as North Africa, Burma, the Middle East, and the Persian Gulf, often under grueling conditions. The tour continued through China, Belgium, France and Germany (in a performance delivered close to the front lines), then returned to America. Pons was accompanied on the tour by her second husband, the colorful conductor André Kostelanetz, with whom she shared a 20 year marriage -- and an even longer professional union. The secret to their deep-seated affection, even after divorce, perhaps can be found in a 1942 interview. "I love cra-zee hats," Madame Pons squealed, "and it is my luck that my husband is one of the few men who love cra-zee hats, too!"

Life with André: the bottom photo was taken at the Brazilian Pavillion of the 1939 World's Fair in New York.

In spite of what would total 300 performances on the Met stage, in some of the most famous roles in history, Pons seemed to have a refreshing lack of pomposity, as well as possessing a sly, Gallic sense of humor. In 1950, at benefit for the San Francisco Opera, Pons made a splashy appearance "in a sleazy, strapless, slit-skirted and low-cut black dress," doing a burlesque pantomime to a recording of "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend" by Carol Channing. "I forgot some of my routine," Pons gleefully recounted, "so I just added some extra bumps and grinds!"





Well into her own fifth decade, Pons reached a new level of fame in the 1950's, thanks to the new medium of television. True to her celebrity status, and her impish humor, the diva could be seen getting folksy with Tennessee Ernie Ford, trading jokes with Jimmy Durante, playing lookalikes with Imogene Coca, or warbling with Nat King Cole. She also, like nearly every other celebrity of the day, made a memorable appearance on What's My Line?

The dawn of the 1960's brought Pons' eventual fading from public view; with the fiery, publicity-driven Maria Callas dominating the headlines and gossip columns with her tempestuous private life, and thrilling listeners with her emotional, full-blooded approach to the coloratura, the charming, dainty Pons suddenly seemed quaintly old-fashioned. Her final performance at the Met was on December 14, 1960; after that, Pons made infrequent concert appearances until finally retiring. In one last burst of virtuosity, she emerged from that retirement to give one final concert on May 31, 1972, at New York's Philharmonic Hall. The event reunited Pons with André Kostelanetz, who conducted. The reception was rapturous, and Lily Pons enjoyed one final triumph. She died, on February 13, 1976, of pancreatic cancer in Dallas, Texas.


The overwhelming choice for our Mystery Guest was Marlene Dietrich, which no doubt would have made Lily Pons giggle with delight! And, in actuality, on more than one occasion, there was a very glancing resemblance.

We'll leave you, once more, with a recipe -- for Lily Pons' Pink Party Salad! Which is, basically, turkey salad dyed pink with pomegranate seeds. "It sounds frilly and feminine, but then, why do he-men in uniform fight for it?" trilled Madame Pons. Make it and find out for yourselves! As always, thanks for playing, darlings!

Lily Pons' Pink Party Salad

4 cups diced cooked turkey
2 cups chopped celery
Seeds from 2 large pomegranates
2 cups blanched shredded almonds
2 tablespoons cream
Mayonnaise
Salt to taste
Lettuce

Lightly toss turkey, celery, pomegranate seeds, and almonds together. Add cream, sufficient mayonnaise to moisten, and salt. Serve on lettuce leaves. Serves 12.

Guess Who?

(Hint: her name is not Lola, and she's not a showgirl.)

Pola Opposites

"Damn sympathy! I don't care whether they love me or not. I don't care whether I am beautiful or not. I want a chance to act." - Pola Negri

"The biggest phony in Hollywood, dahling! A lying lesbo, a Polish publicity hound. Had a mustache and couldn't act her way out of a paper bag!" - Tallulah Bankhead on Pola Negri

Whatever you may think of her, Pola Negri was, for a brief time, a Very Great Star. Born in what is now modern-day Poland, Negri originally came to prominence in German films, then was offered a contract with Paramount in 1922. Negri's exotic glamour and theatrical mannerisms caught the public fancy, and she became the closest thing the reigning Queen of the Paramount Lot, Gloria Swanson, could call a rival. In fact, their fan magazine-created "feud" was even bigger than the later battles between Bette and Joan! Although friends and colleagues of both ladies (and Negri and Swanson themselves) confirmed that, while never bosom buddies, the two divas were never mortal enemies, their supposed mutual hatred made for much better copy. One oft-told tale had the silent screen queens cat fighting -- with real cats, each one's pet mauling the other!

Gloria Swanson with a gift from Pola Negri?

Negri was also infamous for her allegedly torrid romance with Rudolph Valentino, which may or may have not included his desire to marry her. Valentino's sudden death in 1926 also spelled the death knell for her career, as her flamboyant display of grief, real or enacted, left many in Hollywood shaking their heads in disgust -- and if you can get Tallu to shake her head in disgust, that's saying something!

Pola Negri arriving at Valentino's funeral

Negri made her entrance at Campbell's Funeral Home in New York (later the frenzied scene of Judy Garland's last public appearance), dressed in $3000 worth of mourning robes, flanked by bodyguards who supported her as she stumbled and collapsed. She struck poses for the assembled photographers, then dramatically flung herself on Valentino's open casket, wailing and weeping. It became too much for the already near-riotous crowd of thousands of "fans" outside of the funeral home; following Negri's suit, the shrieking masses stormed the home, breaking windows, trampling flower arrangements, and clawing at Valentino's casket. This tour de force performance was repeated endlessly: Negri accompanied the body back to California by train, posing outside of the rear car for photographers as she sobbed and fainted on cue. For the Hollywood funeral, Negri had a $2000 arrangement of red roses, with white roses spelling out "POLA" in center, placed on the casket. Once again, she repeated her crying and fainting routine, as the cameras clicked away.

Happier times: Rudolph Valentino and Pola Negri at the wedding of Mae Murray and Prince David Mdivani

Even for the time period, when the public expected their movie stars to be outrageously larger-than-life, Negri's behavior was considered in poor taste. However, either in spite of the skeptical and negative press, or in a stubborn attempt to refute it, Negri continued to insist that Valentino had been the love of her life, for the rest of hers. Infamously, she once waxed rhapsodic about Valentino's culinary skills, and inadvertently gave the press one of her most quotable howlers: "I will never share with anyone the secret of his...meat sauce."


After that, Negri's once-glittering career went into sharp decline. Her marriage to Prince Serge Mdivani (whose brother, David, had married Negri's good friend Mae Murray) attracted much attention -- but, in the wake of her professed fanatical devotion to Valentino, much of it was scornful. The Wall Street crash of 1929, in which Negri lost much of her fortune due to Mdivani's mishandling, and the advent of talkies, closed the curtain on her Hollywood career. She retreated to Europe, where she made a handful of films, including the acclaimed Mazurka (1935) in Germany. It was reputedly one of Adolph Hitler's favorite films; this, coupled with some cobbled-together bits of gossip, led to the incorrect story that Negri and the dictator were lovers. The story was actually printed as fact in a French magazine, which led a furious Negri to file a libel lawsuit, which she won.


Eventually, Negri returned to Hollywood, but remained in semi-retirement. She, along with Mae Murray and Mary Pickford, were among the actresses approached by Billy Wilder when he was casting the role of faded silent star Norma Desmond in Sunset Blvd. Mary Pickford adored the story, but demanded that the role of Joe Gillis be made practically invisible, with Norma always at the center of attention. Mae Murray, for her part, threw Wilder out of her home. And Wilder recounted that Negri "threw a tantrum at the mere suggestion of playing a has-been." The role, of course, went to Negri's old rival, Gloria Swanson, who revitalized her career in the process and won perhaps even greater fame than in her 1920's heyday. For her "comeback" vehicle, Negri waited another fourteen years to do the pleasant Disney thriller-comedy, The Moon-Spinners (1964), with Hayley Mills.


Negri's return to the screen was greeted politely, if not rapturously; and subsequent offers never materialized. As one wag put it, "Demand was small for elderly ladies who looked like Vampira crossed with Marilyn Manson." She retreated to San Antonio, Texas, where, even in retirement, Negri continued to cause scandal and gossip: she lived with her best friend, oil heiress Margaret West, causing many to speculate that the ladies were more than mere friends. In her own, not-entirely-candid autobiography, Negri wrote, "It is difficult for some of the so-called sophisticates to understand the there had not been until then, nor would there ever be in the future, the slightest tinge of the sexual to what [Margaret and I] shared together." The rumors, however, continue to persist to this day.


Pola Negri went out as would be expected: as a drama queen to the end. Near death, suffering from pneumonia and a brain tumor, she was attended by a handsome young doctor who didn't register any recognition of her name when he looked at her chart. Indignantly pulling herself up into a regal, upright position, Pola Negri demanded, "You don't know who I am?!?!" She died on August 1, 1987. Her body was placed on view, clad in a gold chiffon gown and a matching gold turban.


The first person to recognize Pola's Polish profile as our latest Mystery Guest was the somewhat-mysterious-himself Iván! For him, we have discovered the recipe for Rudy's "secret" spaghetti sauce so that you, too, can share his meat. As always, thanks for playing, darlings!

Rudolph Valentino's "Secret" Spaghetti Sauce

2 Tablespoons olive oil - divided use
1 large onion - diced
1 and 1/2 cups sliced mushrooms
1 (8 oz.) can tomato sauce
1 (8 oz.) can tomato paste
1 (16 oz.) can whole tomatoes, chopped and undrained
1 pound Italian sausage
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1 tablespoon oregano
1 tablespoon rosemary
1 (2 oz.) can anchovies

Heat 1 tablespoon oil in skillet over low flame, cook mushrooms and onions until soft, adding a little water to pan while cooking so contents don't over-heat. Set aside.
In a large Dutch oven pot, combine the tomato sauce, paste and whole tomatoes, along with cooked mushrooms and onions, reserving skillet to cook meat. Simmer over very low flame.

Add 1 tabespoon of oil to coat skillet and add Italian sausage (depending on grade of Italian sausage, meat may need to be removed from casing and crumbled.) Cook over a medium flame and brown sausage.

While sausage is cooking, add 1 heaping teaspoon minced, fresh garlic or the equivalent of dry garlic powder, stirring constantly to combine.

Add the cooked meat, undrained, to the sauce pot, along with oregano and rosemary, continuing to simmer. Add 1/2 cup red wine to the skillet and heat for a few minutes over low flame to 'de-glaze' the skillet, using a spatula to move the wine around and release all of the bits from the pan. Add this to the sauce.

Add 1/2 can of anchovies, stirring vigorously until combined into sauce. Simmer 10 minutes, taste for flavor and desired taste, and add two more anchovies, repeating step if desired.

Simmer sauce for 30 more minutes.