...you may as well quit,
because you'll never do it as stylishly as these two.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
All the Voices in Your Head
MISS GLORIA SWANSON
March 27, 1899 - April 4, 1983
And the Aries birthdays continue fabulously on...
The Skinny One in the Middle...
...turned a fabulous 65 yesterday. Like the other misunderstood Great Lady, Joan Crawford, Diana Ross's famed temperament and legendary demands often overshadow her very real, very important contributions and talents. As the first black female superstar to achieve the level of celebrity previously only afforded whites, Diana Ross should be mentioned each night in the prayers of everyone from Halle Berry to Oprah Winfrey to Tyra Banks. She also, directly or indirectly, influenced and paved the way for at least three generations of singers, from Donna Summer to Whitney Houston, Janet Jackson to Madonna, Beyonce to Rhianna. Indeed, Diana Ross nearly single-handedly invented and defined what we now accept as the template for the "pop diva."
No one would ever accuse Diana Ross of being Motown's best or most soulful singer; but she had, and still has, a precise, crisp, completely accessible style. Motown mogul Berry Gordy's favorite singer was Doris Day, of all people, because of her conversational style and perfect enunciation: you can hear how this influenced his shaping of Ross's sound.
Love her or hate her (and both camps are legion), Diana Ross simply cannot be denied. Her name was written in stone in the pantheon of greats long, long ago. Much of the mean-spiritedness with which so many of her colleagues, music historians, and her successors disparage her name and reputation can be traced to the fact that not only did Diana Ross have the audacity to be black and beautiful, but she also made it seem so easy -- and she wasn't sentimental about cutting her losses and leaving people behind who couldn't help her achieve her goals. How dare she!
At the end of the day, however, the numbers and tallies don't lie: nearly 50 years in the business, 18 Number One hits, an Oscar nomination, a special Tony, a Kennedy Center Honor, Billboard magazine's "Entertainer of the Century" citation, two stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame... why shouldn't we bow down and call her Miss Ross?
MISS DIANA ROSS
March 26, 1944
March 26, 1944
THANKS
Isn't it a Shame...
...that movie stars no longer smolder? Back in the day, even the B stars were required to sparkle, smolder, and serve glamour. And wear a mean turban.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
We Didn't Know Dick...
...but now, thanks to Vintage Male Physique, we do. And for that, we are eternally grateful.
MODEL: Dick Dene
PHOTOGRAPHER: Bruce of L.A.
MODEL: Dick Dene
PHOTOGRAPHER: Bruce of L.A.
To Serve Man
It's no secret that one of SSUWAT's guilty pleasures is the square-jawed 1960's heartthrob, slightly seedy, older, used model: see earlier entries for Efrem Zimablist, Jr. and Hugh O'Brien. One of our guiltiest pleasures is the late, great Lloyd Bochner, a smoothly sexy cat with a mellifluous voice which, to cop a phrase apropos of Franchot Tone, "jerked off the consonants and sucked off the vowels."
He also, apparently, had quite a way with toothpicks.
Anyway, Mr. Bochner made countless appearances on television, most memorably expiring after a roll in the hay with Joan Collins on Dynasty, and as a summer stock lothario romancing all of The Golden Girls. On film, he had a somewhat less lofty career: "highlights" would have to include such trash classics as Barbara Stanwyck's entry into the Aging Dame In Distress sweepstakes, The Night Walker (1964); the Carol Lynley version of Harlow (1965) (although he also co-starred with the "other Harlow," Carroll Baker, the same year in the even-trashier Sylvia); and, crowningly, Pia Zadora's penultimate grotesquerie, The Lonely Lady (1983). Frankly, after viewing Bochner waving a garden hose in Zadora's face and sneering, "Is this more your kick?!", we're surprised he didn't win the Golden Globe instead of his chipmunk-cheeked leading lady.
Aside from the legacy he left behind in his work, Bochner also gifted the world with an equally talented and beautiful offspring, Hart Bochner.
Perhaps Lloyd Bochner's greatest career achievement came in the form of "To Serve Man" (1962), one of the most celebrated episodes of The Twilight Zone. It's chilling in its precise evocation of the barely-contained repression and paranoia of the Cold War era. Of course, we also love the slim-cut suits, shirts and ties which Bochner wears: and we practically fainted at the closeup shot of his polished black laceups snuffing out a cigarette. Watch, enjoy, and remember.
LLOYD BOCHNER
Sparkle, Vonda, Sparkle!
Due to the overwhelming response (thank you, Donna Lethal!), we have spared no expense in bringing you more Vonda Kay Van Dyke. Not only was she a Miss America, but she also recorded a Christian pop album (shades of Anita Bryant), and, along with every third female fringe celebrity of the 1960's, penned a self-help beauty and poise guide, in which she advised her readers to strive for "that inner sparkle that only Christ can give."
Incidentally, Ms. Van Dyke was also "an actress, a ventriloquist, a public speaker, [and] a licensed pilot" (thank you, The Anicent Star Song)! One imagines that she wiped the floor with the other contestants during the talent competition.
Incidentally, Ms. Van Dyke was also "an actress, a ventriloquist, a public speaker, [and] a licensed pilot" (thank you, The Anicent Star Song)! One imagines that she wiped the floor with the other contestants during the talent competition.
Celebrate Good Times
Celebrating birthdays today...
Choreographer Onna White (March 24, 1922 - April 8, 2005) was nominated for eight Tony Awards, and won a special Oscar for her work on the film version of Oliver! (1968). She was also responsible for Lucille Ball's "dancing" in the infamous movie adaptation of Mame (1974), for which I'm sure she had to answer to Saint Peter.
Known as "The Sultan of Sequins," the boyishly dapper Bob Mackie (March 24, 1940) is so charmingly conservative and traditional in his own appearance, it's hard to believe that he's responsible for the outrageous creations worn by the likes of Cher, Carol Burnett, Diana Ross, Ann-Margret, Raquel Welch, Mitzi Gaynor, and countless other divas who would never be described as shrinking violets. Although the vogue for his bombastic, attention-grabbing designs peaked and ebbed in the 1980's (perhaps Brooke Shields' Brenda Starr finished him off in 1989), Mackie is still respected as a master of flamboyant showmanship and, of course, fabulous beadwork and sequins. And, having seen him as recently as February, we can say that, at 68, he still cuts a dashing, youthful, elegant figure.
Finally, George Wagner, better known as Gorgeous George (March 24, 1915 - December 26, 1963), is a footnote -- if that -- to contemporary pop culture addicts, but in his heyday, he was as big a television phenomenon as Lucille Ball or Milton Berle, as well as a recognized and acknowledged influence on everyone from fellow athletes like Muhammad Ali (to whom George advised, "Keep on bragging, keep on sassing and always be outrageous!") to R&B legend James Brown, to Bob Dylan (!). As the first wrestler to use theatrics and publicity to build up his own celebrity, as well as for the sport itself, George was a pioneer in peroxided pin curls, chiffon, and Chanel No. 5.
Choreographer Onna White (March 24, 1922 - April 8, 2005) was nominated for eight Tony Awards, and won a special Oscar for her work on the film version of Oliver! (1968). She was also responsible for Lucille Ball's "dancing" in the infamous movie adaptation of Mame (1974), for which I'm sure she had to answer to Saint Peter.
Known as "The Sultan of Sequins," the boyishly dapper Bob Mackie (March 24, 1940) is so charmingly conservative and traditional in his own appearance, it's hard to believe that he's responsible for the outrageous creations worn by the likes of Cher, Carol Burnett, Diana Ross, Ann-Margret, Raquel Welch, Mitzi Gaynor, and countless other divas who would never be described as shrinking violets. Although the vogue for his bombastic, attention-grabbing designs peaked and ebbed in the 1980's (perhaps Brooke Shields' Brenda Starr finished him off in 1989), Mackie is still respected as a master of flamboyant showmanship and, of course, fabulous beadwork and sequins. And, having seen him as recently as February, we can say that, at 68, he still cuts a dashing, youthful, elegant figure.
Finally, George Wagner, better known as Gorgeous George (March 24, 1915 - December 26, 1963), is a footnote -- if that -- to contemporary pop culture addicts, but in his heyday, he was as big a television phenomenon as Lucille Ball or Milton Berle, as well as a recognized and acknowledged influence on everyone from fellow athletes like Muhammad Ali (to whom George advised, "Keep on bragging, keep on sassing and always be outrageous!") to R&B legend James Brown, to Bob Dylan (!). As the first wrestler to use theatrics and publicity to build up his own celebrity, as well as for the sport itself, George was a pioneer in peroxided pin curls, chiffon, and Chanel No. 5.
Who Coaxed the Blues Right Outta the Horn?
We posted about various and sundry Mames earlier, but only recently discovered these fantastic shots of the Texas Fireball, Miss Ann Miller, on her wonderful tribute website. The producers created a tap dance showcase for Miss Miller when she stepped into the role; as it should be.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Miss Understood
Miss Crawford ponders whom she shall kill before breakfast.
It's impossible to separate Joan Crawford from The Mommie Myth, although a "reclamation project" (to cop a phrase from Charles Busch) has slowly been building over the years. To distill Crawford's legacy and essence down to a one-note wire hanger joke is not only unfair, but virtually erases a huge, vital chunk of film history. Whatever her character flaws may or may not have been, Joan Crawford was a superstar of the first rank from the 1920's through the 1970's -- arguably, the greatest of them all (with apologies to Miss Desmond).
It's also worth remembering that, although the iconic image of a hardened, shoulder-padded Crawford is forever frozen in time and memory, she was actually brilliant at constantly reinventing herself, never -- revisionist history to the contrary -- allowing herself to become an anachronism. One doesn't remain a superstar for five decades by staying in a rut, kiddies. The flapper of the 1920's, the clotheshorse of the 1930's, the proto-feminist of the 1940's, the lusty older woman of the 1950's, the Grande Dame of the 1960's and 1970's -- these were all clearly defined epochs in the Crawford canon, each one distinct and different. She was not a one-note performer.
Here at SSUWAT, we are unabashed in our admiration for JC. For all of her legendary temperament, her overly-exacting standards, her mania for perfection, Miss Crawford, it must be said, never expected any more from her colleagues, co-workers, employees or children than she expected of herself. The fact that mere mortals could rarely, if ever, work or conduct their lives with the 200 percent commitment and discipline which Joan Crawford demonstrated throughout her entire career probably never even crossed her mind.
So, we think, a little love and a lot of respect is due. She came from nothing -- for all her Grand Lady pretentions and affectation, Miss Crawford made no bones about her own squalid childhood -- and although she clearly benefitted from the pampering services of Metro in the halcyon days of the Studio System, JOAN CRAWFORD, Star, was almost entirely the result of her own iron will, ambition, talent, and ferocious drive to escape her past. La Crawford's greatest creation, her towering performance, was being Joan Crawford, and she lived and loved it 24 hours a day. For that, we offer our thanks and gratitude. Bless you, Joan! Wherever you are, we want you to know: We Understand.
MISS JOAN CRAWFORD
March 23, 1906 - May 10, 1977
March 23, 1906 - May 10, 1977
A Flawed Equation
plus
plus
...should equal fizz, froth, and hilarity. And, in small doses, the current revival of Blithe Spirit offers just that -- all too fitfully. Noel Coward's Design for Living-meets-Topper 1941 comedy shows its age around the edges, and while the cast is up to the challenge of making it fresh and funny, Michael Blakemore's direction is curiously stodgy and plodding, the staging claustrophobic and uninspired.
Angela Lansbury, of course, is one of the Great Ladies of the Theatah, and her reviews have been nothing short of glorious. It's true that her role as the dotty Madame Arcati is written as a scene-stealing, showy star turn, but Lansbury more than earns the adulation. She imbues the addled (yet 100% sincere) occultist with a charming, tattered dignity and warmth; and, at 83, she's still able to contort her remarkably lithe and lean body into comic dancer's poses which recall burlesque Egyptian hieroglyphics.
Of course, one expects nothing less than perfection from Miss Lansbury; the real surprise was Rupert Everett's well-nuanced performance, delivered with his trademark panache, but with much more subtlety than his recent film appearances would suggest. It was also a performance filled with a remarkable amount of give-and-take with his fellow players, and no sign of the undisciplined mugging or winking irony Mr. Everett has sometimes been guilty of.
As his ghostly wife, Christine Ebersole is, sadly, the weakest link among the cast members (the delightfully dry Jayne Atkinson is marvelous as the solidly upper-class second wife). We want to love Ms. Ebersole, we really do; she's a glamorous, madcap blonde with an oversized diva personality, a lovely singing voice, and a camp sensibility aimed directly at the hearts and wallets of Confirmed Bachelors With Interests in Musical Theater. But she is one beloved performer who consistently leaves us cold; and while she's certainly not awful in Blithe Spirit, she never really convinces us that she's a sprightly spirit. Ms. Ebersole is decidedly earthbound, for lack of a better phrase, and her accent too often wobbles from the British drawing room to a Bronx barroom. Despite her brittle, 1930's-esque demeanor, Ebersole never quite captures the gleefully pixie-ish/devil-ish charm of Elvira the way Kay Hammond did in the film, or the way we imagine Tammy Grimes did in the 1964 musical version, High Spirits. Our biggest problem with Christine Ebersole is that she seems to think that she's Constance Bennett, but she really is more Joan Blondell.
A trio of Elvira's: Kay Hammond (top), Tammy Grimes (center), Christine Ebersole (bottom)
All in all, it was entertaining enough, but ultimately unsatisfying. Still, it was worth it all just to see Angela Lansbury doing her stuff, live, on stage. It's one of our great regrets that we didn't have the chance to see her perform in any of her great musical roles: Mame, Sweeney Todd, Gypsy. When she's on stage in Blithe Spirit, it suddenly feels lighter, brighter, gayer. If only she could be in every scene.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)