Celebrating Women Pioneer Filmmakers! We’re Giving Away 5 Alice Guy-Blache Documentary DVDs this Month!
A scrupulously well-researched documentary about one of early cinema’s greatest pioneers and the world’s first woman filmmaker – The Hollywood Reporter
This month we kick off our Women Pioneers Filmmaker Celebration with a very special giveaway! We are happy to say that we’re giving away FIVE COPIES of the Classic Movie Documentary “Be Natural: The Untold Story of Alice Guy-Blache”, courtesy of our friends at Kino Lorber and Zeitgeist Films!
Alice Guy-Blaché, pioneer woman filmmaker, wrote, directed, and/or produced about 1,000 films…
In order to qualify to win one of these prizes via this contest giveaway, you must complete the below entry task by Saturday, Oct 5 at 9PMEST. However, the sooner you enter, the better chance you have of winning, because we will pick our winners on five different days within the contest period, via random drawings, as listed below… So if you don’t win the first week that you enter, you will still be eligible to win during the following weeks until the contest is over.
September 7: One Winner
September 14: One Winner
September 21: One Winner
September 28: One Winner
October 5: One Winner
We will announce each week’s winner on Twitter @ClassicMovieHub (or this blog, depending how you entered), the day after each winner is picked at 9PM EST — for example, we will announce our first week’s winner on Sunday September 8 at 9PM EST.
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About the DVD. Alice Guy-Blaché was a true pioneer who got into the movie business at the very beginning — in 1894, at the age of 21. Two years later, she was made head of production at Gaumont and started directing films. She and her husband moved to the United States, and she founded her own company, Solax, in 1910 — they started in Flushing and moved to a bigger facility in Fort Lee, New Jersey. But by 1919, Guy-Blaché’s career came to an abrupt end, and she and the 1000 films that bore her name were largely forgotten. Pamela B. Green’s energetic film is both a tribute and a detective story, tracing the circumstances by which this extraordinary artist faded from memory and the path toward her reclamation. Narration by Jodie Foster. Directed by Pamela B. Green.
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ENTRY TASK (2-parts) to be completed by Saturday, October 5 at 9PM EST— BUT remember, the sooner you enter, the more chances you have to win…
1) Answer the below question via the comment section at the bottom of this blog post
2) ThenTWEET (not DM) the following message: Just entered to win the “Be Natural: The Untold Story of Alice Guy-Blache” #DVDGiveaway courtesy of @KinoLorber and @zeitgeistfilms #CMHContest Link: http://ow.ly/MQeC50vU4BY
THE QUESTION: Why would you like to win a copy of this Alice Guy-Blache documentary?
*If you do not have a Twitter account, you can still enter the contest by simply answering the above question via the comment section at the bottom of this blog — BUT PLEASE ENSURE THAT YOU ADD THIS VERBIAGE TO YOUR ANSWER: I do not have a Twitter account, so I am posting here to enter but cannot tweet the message.
ALSO: Please allow us 48 hours to approve your comments. Sorry about that, but we are being overwhelmed with spam, and must sort through 100s of comments…
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Please note that only Continental United States (excluding Alaska, Hawaii, and the territory of Puerto Rico) entrants are eligible.
And — BlogHub members ARE eligible to win if they live within the Continental United States (as noted above).
And if you can’t wait to win this DVD, you can click on the images below to purchase on amazon:
I promised then that I’d be looking at additional leading ladies of “B” Westerns in the future, so here’s a sequel to that column. This time around we’ll take a look at Marjorie Reynolds, Lola Lane, and Anne Jeffreys.
Marjorie Reynolds and Carlyle Moore in The Overland Express (Drew Eberson, 1938)
Marjorie Reynolds was born in Idaho in 1917. Like Virginia Grey, one of the actresses I wrote about earlier this year, Reynolds started out in the movies working as a child actress before moving into bit parts as an adult.
Reynolds’ first opportunities as a leading lady were in “B” Westerns opposite Western stars such as Buck Jones, Tex Ritter, George O’Brien, and Ken Maynard. Marjorie was 20 when she appeared opposite Jones in The Overland Express (1938) for Columbia Pictures. It was one of her first couple of credited leading roles, just after she made Tex Rides with the Boy Scouts (1937) with Ritter.
Overland Express is the story of a Pony Express line started in Sacramento, California, by Buck Dawson (Buck Jones). Californians have grown weary of delays receiving mail from the East, especially after they only belatedly learned of the start of the Civil War.
Marjorie plays tomboyish Jean Greeley, who alternates wearing
pants and cowboy hats with pretty dresses and bonnets. Jean has a crush on Pony
Express rider Tommy (Carlyle Moore Jr.), but Tommy’s life will soon be in
danger due to the machinations of the owners of a stage line who want the mail
contract for themselves.
Still from The Overland Express (1938)
The movie is somewhat interesting, depicting the establishment of
Pony Express stops in real locations such as Friday’s Station, California, and
Genoa, Nevada, but the combination of “just the facts” story with
lots of stock footage of riders and Indian battles doesn’t leave a great deal
of room for character development or emotion. The latter is supplied only due
to Marjorie’s performance, when about halfway through the film Jean witnesses
Tommy’s limp body return to town slung across a horse; her ensuing scenes are
moving and provide the film’s only real emotional pull. Without Marjorie’s
performance, this lesser Buck Jones Western would have been dull fare indeed.
“Smashing Saga of The Pony Express!”
After appearing in numerous Westerns, Marjorie hit it big dancing with Fred Astaire and introducing “White Christmas” (albeit dubbed by Martha Mears) with Bing Crosby in Holiday Inn (1942). While many of her films after that point would continue to be relatively minor, she also had notable roles in a few additional films, including the classic Fritz Lang thriller Ministry of Fear (1944) and the Abbott and Costello comedy The Time of Their Lives (1946). She also starred with William Bendix in the TV series The Life of Riley from 1953 to 1958.
Lola Lane in Lost Canyon (Lesley Selander, 1942)
You never know who will turn up in a Hopalong Cassidy Western, and in this case, it’s lovely Lola Lane of the Lane Sisters. Lane was born in Indiana in 1906; while she started in films in 1929, she was perhaps best known for starring with her younger sisters Priscilla and Rosemary in Four Daughters (1938) and its sequels. Lola continued to work in roles large and small in a variety of films, including a couple of Westerns, before retiring from the screen in 1946.
Here she stars with William Boyd in the Paramount Pictures release Lost Canyon (1942), a remake of an earlier Hoppy film, Rustlers’ Valley (1937). Lola plays Laura Clark, who is engaged to Jeff Burton (Douglas Fowley, remembered by many as the director in Singin’ in the Rain).
Jeff doesn’t want Laura to be friendly with her old family friend Hoppy, which perplexes her; Laura is unaware Jeff and Hoppy had come to blows when Jeff made a crack about the death of Hoppy’s sidekick Johnny (Jay Kirby). Johnny is believed to have robbed a bank, but naturally, no friend of Hoppy’s would be a bank robber, and thankfully he’s not really dead, either.
Jeff has been up to no good and becomes increasingly obnoxious
every time he happens to see Laura being friendly with Hoppy. Jeff isn’t very smart,
as it doesn’t seem to register with him that driving his fiancee away will
spoil his plan to acquire her father’s ranch along with their marriage. As
Hoppy sets out to clear Johnny’s name, things are unlikely to end well for
Jeff.
Lane is a very pleasant addition to this film, and although Laura and Hoppy aren’t romantically involved, it was rather nice to see Boyd play opposite an actress who was much closer to his age than many of the actresses who appeared in the series. Boyd and Lane convey a comfortable and appealing friendship in their scenes together. I especially enjoyed a couple of scenes where they listen to The Sportsmen Quartette — including future “Tony the Tiger”/Disney voice Thurl Ravenscroft — singing “I Got Spurs That Jingle Jangle Jingle.” The only thing that would have been nicer would have been if Lane had the opportunity to sing as well!
Anne Jeffreys in Calling Wild Bill Elliott (Spencer Gordon Bennet, 1943)
Anne Jeffreys, born in North Carolina in 1923, had just started making films in 1942, yet the 1943 release Calling Wild Bill Elliott was her 12th film! It was the first of eight Westerns she made at Republic opposite Bill Elliott. She then moved on to RKO in 1944, where one of her first roles was starring opposite Robert Mitchum in the “B” Western Nevada (1944).
Calling Wild Bill Elliot Theatre Card
Anne doesn’t enter Calling Wild Bill Elliott until
around halfway through the 55-minute running time, but she quickly has a very
nice scene where she sings while “Wild Bill” is listening outside a
window.
The plot concerns a greedy governor (Herbert Hayes) driving
ranchers off their land, and Wild Bill Elliott comes to the help of his
friends. Spunky Edith (Jeffreys), newly arrived in town, initially has the
wrong impression of Bill, especially when she believes he’s murdered her father
(Forbes Murray), but when shown she’s wrong she quickly takes action to set
things right.
Calling Wild Bill Elliot movie poster
While I would have loved for Anne to have more screen time, she
does a nice job in this fast-paced and enjoyable film, showing the same
forthright confidence the actress radiated in her later movies.
Anne was interviewed by Michael G. Fitzerald and Boyd Magers for their book Ladies of the Western, where she remembered her frequent costar Bill Elliott as “a very nice gentleman.” She said, “He had it all planned what he was going to do and how he was going to do it. And he accomplished it. He became a big Western star practically overnight. He was always sort of reserved and quiet, but fun…had a nice sense of humor.”
Anne would later appear in a pair of Randolph Scott “A” Westerns, Trail Street (1947) and Return of the Bad Men (1948). After the latter film, Anne only appeared in a handful of additional movies, but she went on to very successful careers in both musical theater and television, where her credits included starring with her husband, Robert Sterling, in Topper from 1953 to 1955.
Watch for looks at additional leading ladies of the “B’s” here in the future!
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– Laura Grieve for Classic Movie Hub
Laura can be found at her blog, Laura’s Miscellaneous Musings, where she’s been writing about movies since 2005, and on Twitter at @LaurasMiscMovie. A lifelong film fan, Laura loves the classics including Disney, Film Noir, Musicals, and Westerns. She regularly covers Southern California classic film festivals. Laura will scribe on all things western at the ‘Western RoundUp’ for CMH.
Cooking With the Stars: Dolores del Río’s Enchiladas
Dolores del Río
As summer continues, the temperatures are still rising over at Cooking with the Stars HQ! While I’ve been staying inside and preparing for the epic programming of TCM’s Summer Under the Stars, I’ve been giving a lot of thought as to which recipe and star would be the perfect one to honor during the month of August. While there are many amazing actors and actresses appearing on TCM this month that I would be thrilled to write about, I decided to mix things up a little bit and take a trip south of the border to whip up some authentic enchiladas and pay tribute to my favorite actress of color for the wonderful occasion of her 114th birthday: Dolores del Río!
Dolores del Río is shown here during her early days in cinema
Dolores was born on August 3, 1905, under the name of María de los Dolores Asúnsolo y López-Negrete in Durango City, Mexico. It was reported that her family was one of the wealthiest in the country, as her father was the director of the Bank of Durango and her mother descended from Mexican aristocracy and Spanish nobility. On her mother’s side, Dolores was also a cousin of two other Hispanic pioneers in cinema, famed Latin silent star Ramón Novarro, and actress Andrea Palma.
Despite her family’s wealth and success, the Mexican Revolution stripped them of their assets and threatened their lives. While Dolores’ father decided to flee to the United States, Dolores and her mother boarded a train for Mexico City in disguise, barely escaping the power and influence of Pancho Villa. The patriarch of the Asúnsolo family would soon reunite with his wife and daughter, and in 1912 they were able to settle in the nation’s capital due to the protection offered by Dolores’ mother’s cousin, President Francisco Madero.
As Dolores grew up, she became inspired by the theater and yearned to become a dancer. She began studying under famed teacher Felipita Lopez, and by the age of seventeen, she was invited to perform at a local hospital benefit, where she met Jaime Martínez del Río y Viñent, who would become Dolores’ first husband just two months later on April 11, 1921. Their honeymoon lasted two years, during which the couple sailed all over Europe and Dolores danced for the King and Queen of Spain. The two eventually settled at Jaime’s cotton ranch in Mexico City but soon faced destitution when the price of cotton took a nosedive. Around the same time during early 1925, Dolores met influential American filmmaker Edwin Carewe, who was immediately taken with the young dancer and became determined to make her a star. She and Jaime saw the chance meeting as an opportunity to save themselves financially and boarded a train to Los Angeles.
Dolores del Río alongside Edmund Lowe and Victor McLaglen in a publicity photo for her most acclaimed silent film, What Price Glory? (1926)
As soon as she arrived in Hollywood, Dolores del Río took Carewe on as her manager, agent, and primary collaborative partner, and the two went to work in order to mold her into the female equivalent of Rudolph Valentino. They used her aristocratic background to get her foot in the door to Hollywood glamour, and within the same year of meeting Carewe, she appeared in her first film, Joanna (1925), in a minor part. As the mystique surrounding the Latina actress grew, so did her roles, and she quickly worked her way up in features such as High Steppers (1926) with Mary Astor and The Whole Town’s Talking (1926) produced by the legendary Carl Laemmle.
Her first starring role was in the comedic picture Pals First (1926), which is now considered lost, but del Río soon followed up the movie’s success with what’s now known as one of the most acclaimed silent films of all time, What Price Glory? (1926) co-starring Victor McLaglen and Edmund Lowe. The picture became the second-highest-grossing film of the year. At the same time, Dolores became one of 1926’s WAMPAS Baby Stars, an honor which was also received by Joan Crawford, Janet Gaynor, and Fay Wray that year. From there, Dolores’ career could go nowhere but up, and she continued to star in successful silent features right up until the end of the decade while also proving her singing and talking abilities on the radio.
After breaking off her professional relationship with Carewe due to his inappropriate advances, del Río starred in The Bad One (1930), her first talkie. That same year, the actress also met the finest art director in Hollywood and winner of 11 Academy Awards, Cedric Gibbons, who would go on to become her second husband just as she secured a deal with RKO.
Dolores enjoyed continued success in groundbreaking features at the studio, including Bird of Paradise (1932) with Joel McCrea, and Flying Down to Rio (1933), where she played the leading lady in Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers‘ first picture together. Before long, however, RKO’s rising costs led to the studio not renewing del Río’s contract. In a move that would be career-ending for many stars, it was still just the beginning of her incredible career in film, as she was quickly picked up by several studios and placed in starring roles such as Wonder Bar (1934) and the lavish pre-code Madame du Barry (1934) for Warner Bros, my favorite feature of hers, The Devil’s Playground (1937) for Universal, and even a two-picture deal opposite George Sanders for 20th Century Fox.
Dolores del Río is shown here alongside Orson Welles in 1941
From there, Cedric Gibbons attempted to use his clout in order to star his wife in MGM pictures, but aside from her film The Man from Dakota (1940), the studio simply wasn’t interested in furthering the career of a Latina actress. To make matters worse, del Río was also placed on a list of actors who were considered “box office poison” alongside stars like Norma Shearer, Greta Garbo, and last month’s Cooking with the Stars celebrity Katharine Hepburn.
However, fate stepped in once again for the actress, who met visionary filmmaker Orson Welles in 1940. The two began a clandestine affair which also led to her getting work in live shows with his Mercury Theatre company as well as in his film Journey Into Fear (1942), but when Welles decided to leave the production on a goodwill tour in Brazil and step out on Dolores, she ended the relationship and realized that she should return to Mexico and continue her career, stating: “I wish to choose my own stories, my own director, and cameraman. I can accomplish this better in Mexico. I wanted to return to Mexico, a country that was mine and I did not know. I felt the need to return to my country.” She won three Ariel Awards (the Mexican equivalent of the Academy Award) over the following two decades, cementing herself as one of the finest Mexican actresses of all time.
Dolores del Río continued her successful career in both English and Spanish films right up until her retirement in 1978 and passed away of kidney failure on April 11, 1983, at the age of seventy-eight. In the years following her death, horror icon Vincent Price signed his autographs under her name, and when he was asked why, the actor responded: “I promised Dolores on her deathbed that I would not let people forget about her.” The world certainly hasn’t forgotten about this cinematic pioneer, as countless memorials still stand in her memory in both Mexico and in Hollywood. She most notably stands as one of the four pillars of the Four Ladies of Hollywood Gazebo which marks the beginning of the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
Dolores del
Río’s Enchiladas
2 small cans of Ortega green chiles
1 pint of sour cream
1 pound fresh tomatoes
1 medium onion (I used white)
1 dozen tortillas (I used flour)
4 asaderos, a Mexican cheese
Scald tomatoes and peel.
Cut onions fine and fry in lard.
Add tomatoes to mixture and mix.
Cut chiles fine and add to mixture, seasoning with salt.
Add asaderos and mix until it begins to melt. Remove from fire.
Fry tortillas, one by one, in lard, leaving them soft.
Place tortillas on a plate and put the tomato mixture in the center of each.
Roll each filled tortilla and cover with sour cream. Serve immediately.
My execution of Dolores del Río’s enchiladas. These definitely don’t get points for presentation
I can tell just by looking at this recipe that it’s very old, possibly one of the oldest recipes I’ve ever made even though I’m not sure of the year that the recipe is from.
The use of lard and the word “fire” instead of stove really makes me wonder, and the use of asaderos is quite interesting. It took a good deal of research to figure out exactly what cheese I should use in place of asaderos, which I couldn’t find at my local grocery store. On one hand, any of the typical Mexican shredded cheese blends claim to contain asaderos, and in hindsight, I should have probably used that. Instead, I used the queso fresco cheese that I believed would be more authentic.
I wouldn’t recommend doing this at all as the cheese should really only be used as a topping; adding it to my enchilada filling mixture turned out to make it a flavorless, watery, and crumbly mess. Despite that, I enjoyed frying the tortillas and I really loved all of the other elements of the mixture, including the chiles, the onion, and the fresh tomato. I absolutely adore sour cream, but the idea of covering my whole pan of enchiladas with it and not baking the entire dish as I would in most enchilada recipes really turned me off.
Still, for the sake of authenticity, I went ahead and followed the recipe, which led to a strange result. Even after all these changes from my go-to enchilada recipes, Dolores del Río’s enchiladas were very good. I ate all of the leftovers (of which there were a lot), but I think this recipe needs a huge update for modern times. It could be an awesome staple in my weeknight dinner menus, but if I were to make this dish again, I would probably use canned diced tomatoes cooked with the onion, chiles, and shredded Mexican cheese. I would still fry the tortillas, but I would cover the dish with a modern green or red enchilada sauce and top the whole thing with more cheese, baking until everything is golden and bubbly, and only then would I use sour cream in moderation.
As it stands, this recipe receives three Vincents from me, but with some modernization, it could be taken into the stratosphere! No matter how you decide to interpret Dolores’ entrée, you’ll still have a hearty Mexican meal that will serve your entire family, and this dish is the perfect way to salute this icon in Latin cinema.
Dolores’ Enchiladas get 3 Vincents!
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–Samantha Ellis for Classic Movie Hub
Samantha resides in West Chester, Pennsylvania and is the author of Musings of a Classic Film Addict, a blog that sheds light on Hollywood films and filmmakers from the 1930s through the 1960s. Her favorite column that she pens for her blog is Cooking with the Stars, for which she tests and reviews the personal recipes of stars from Hollywood’s golden age. When she isn’t in the kitchen, Samantha also lends her voice and classic film knowledge as cohost of the Ticklish Business podcast alongside Kristen Lopez and Drea Clark, and proudly serves as President of TCM Backlot’s Philadelphia Chapter. You can catch up with her work by following her @classicfilmgeek on Twitter.
Exclusive Interview with Ted Donaldson about his career, special memories of Cary Grant, Harry Cohn, Elia Kazan and more…
I’m so excited to say that I was able to sit down with Ted Donaldson for an exclusive video interview! I met Ted at the 2018 TCM Film Festival and had such a lovely chat with him, that I just had to ask if he would do us the honor of officially chatting with us for a YouTube interview while at the 2019 Festival. And to my delight, he graciously agreed!
Ted starred in two of my personal favorite films… opposite Cary Grant and Janet Blair in Once Upon a Time (1944) and with Dorothy McGuire, Joan Blondell, James Dunn and Peggy Ann Garner in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945). In our interview, Ted shares special memories about meeting Cary Grant for the very first time, as well as his experiences behind the scenes with Grant. He also talks about Cary Grant attending his high school graduation, and how he received a very special phone call from Grant about 30 years later. Ted shares his thoughts about Elia Kazan and the cast of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945), as well as how he got his start in radio and on Broadway before his audition for Harry Cohn that kicked off his film career.
Just want to extend a Big Thank You to Ted for spending time with us – and for all those who helped make this interview possible including Thomas Bruno, Kelly J Kitchens, Theresa Brown and Kellee Pratt…
Classic Conversations: Oscar Winners Sandy Powell and John Myhre on How the Classic Film Inspired Their Work on ‘Mary Poppins Returns’
Julie Andrews in Mary Poppins (1964) and Emily Blunt in Mary Poppins Returns (2018)
Mary Poppinswas one of the first films I saw in a movie theater as a child and I remember it as a life-changing experience. I was so obsessed with the film that my mother used to put us to bed with the LP playing on our old Sears record player in the corner of the room I shared with my brother and sister. To this day, I remember every lyric of every song, including the plea from Jane and Michael Banks that brought Mary Poppins down from the clouds:
Never be cross or cruel Never give us castor oil or gruel Love us as a son and daughter And never smell of barley water…
When I heard a sequel to the film was coming more than half a century after the original, I was concerned. How could they possibly recapture the magic? Who could possibly fill the sensible shoes of “practically perfect in every way” Julie Andrews who won a Best Actress Oscar for her film debut? There was only one person I could think of, and director Rob Marshall was smart enough to hire her. As Mary Poppins, Emily Blunt conveys all of the no-nonsense sternness of Julie Andrews’ Mary, sprinkled with the same magical underpinnings that help troubled souls find their paths and regain their faith in humanity. In this film, it’s the grown-up Michael Banks (Ben Wishaw) who desperately needs Mary’s help as he struggles with his sister Jane (Emily Mortimer) to find peace after a series of hard knocks. The new film also featured delightful performances by Lin-Manuel Miranda, Meryl Streep, Julie Walters, Colin Firth, Angela Lansbury, and a cameo by the beloved Dick Van Dyke who starred in the original.
Two of the people most responsible for the success
of the new film, which just debuted this week on Netflix, are production
designer John Myhre and costume designer Sandy Powell. The extraordinarily
talented pair have been nominated for countless Academy Awards and have won five
Oscars between them: John for Chicago and Memoirs of a Geisha and
Sandy for The Young Victoria, Shakespeare in Love, and The Aviator.
I was delighted to sit down with this pair recently for Classic Movie Hub and
talk with them about the ways that the classic film from 1964 had an impact on
their work in Mary Poppins Returns.
John Myhre and Sandy Powell with two of their five Academy Awards
Danny Miller: I so
enjoyed Mary Poppins Returns, and trust me, as a Mary Poppins fanatic, I
was very worried when I heard that a sequel was coming. As far as I’m
concerned, your costumes and production design are the stars of the movie every
bit as much as wonderful Emily Blunt. I saw it twice the first week it came
out.
John Myhre: Thank you! One of the nicest things I’m hearing is that so many people want to watch the movie again and again.
Sandy Powell: I know I did when it first came out. I think when we first see our films, we’re mostly looking at our own work and we tend to be very critical about it. But on subsequent viewings, I’m able to really enjoy the story and forget my part of it!
I was five years old when the original Mary Poppins came out and it was a pretty seminal moment in my childhood. I wanted Julie Andrews to be my nanny and Matthew Garber and Karen Dotrice to be my brother and sister!
Karen Dotrice, the original Jane Banks, on set with Lin-Manuel Miranda
Sandy Powell: Did you spot Karen Dotrice in the film?
Yes, I was thrilled to
see her pop up in that scene with her grown-up counterpart! My daughter
actually went to school with Karen Dotrice’s daughter here in L. A. and I would
constantly ask Karen about working on Mary Poppins when I ran into her
at school! I loved all the touches you both added to appease to the nostalgia
crowd like me while still creating a totally new story.
Sandy Powell: We wanted to keep it fresh while also making subtle nods to the original
film.
Hermione Baddeley, Glynis Johns, and Reta Shaw in Mary Poppins (1964)
Going in, my one
obsession is that I really wanted to see Mrs. Banks’ “Votes for Women”
suffragette banner. To see it just sitting there in the garbage at first and
then to have it become such an important part of the film with Michael’s old
kite, well, that was the first of several times I cried while watching this
movie!
Sandy Powell: Oh, that’s nice!
I assume your primary source material for your work was the 1964 film but did you also go back to the original books by P.L. Travers?
Sandy Powell: A little bit. To be honest, I mostly looked at the illustrations as I was preparing to work on the film, and those were very helpful. Did you read them, John?
John Myhre: I did! I read as many as I could get my hands on, and I thought they were just fantastic. I remember I was reading them on airplanes for a while and I kept wondering what people thought when they saw this old man sitting there reading children’s books!
Haha. “Honey, don’t sit
next to that guy!”
John Myhre: Yes, people kept looking at me a bit strangely. But they’re so
fun because the books are just a series of adventures, there’s not really a
beginning, middle, or end. They’re just lovely and they inspired me a lot.
Sandy, was it a specific
goal of yours to make a clear distinction between Julie Andrews and Emily Blunt
in terms of Mary Poppins’ look? I mean, I realize several decades have passed
since the events of the first film so that’s already going to change things.
Sandy Powell: Yes. I mean, I definitely wanted to make her recognizable as the
same character but updated to 1934 so I obviously wasn’t going to put her back
in Edwardian clothing. Luckily, 1930s fashion, or at least that particular bit
of it in 1934 lent itself very well to that transition because they used a long
line for women along with a mid-calf hem length that evoked the Mary Poppins we
all knew and loved. I could do some elegant coats in the style of the Edwardian
coat from the original but updated with new patterns and fabrics.
And, of course, Mary
herself is somewhat otherworldly.
Sandy Powell: It’s true, Mary is otherworldly but someone like Mary is also going to be very up-do-date and chic — in a reserved kind of way. Rob and I discussed giving her little hints of eccentricities. So, for example, she’s all demure and done up, but then you suddenly see a flash of the bright red polka dot lining in her coat or the little robin with the curly tail on her hat. Just to provide little hints of her unusual nature!
Emily Blunt as Mary Poppins with Michael’s three children
John, since we’ve all
seen the movie a hundred times, did you use that as the blueprint for your
gorgeous set design? Did you recreate the 1964 version of the house at 17
Cherry Tree Lane and then imagine how it would have changed over the years?
John Myhre: We all grew up loving the film, it was the first film I saw as
well, but Rob reassured me from the very beginning that he didn’t want me to
slavishly recreate anything from the original movie. There were really only a
handful of things that we recreated exactly but we had a bit more of a free
hand because our story was so different.
Oh, that’s interesting. Of course, certain things just had to be there like the admiral’s house shaped like a ship next door.
John Myhre: Yes, it’s true. We had to have Admiral Boom’s house and there
were certain elements that seemed necessary. For example, when the door opened
at 17 Cherry Tree Lane, I needed to see the staircase in front of me and then
the living room to the left. But it’s not like we were constantly making
side-by-side comparisons.
Oh, really, so it’s not
like the patterns on the floor or the wallpaper were necessarily the same.
John Myhre: No, not at all. First of all, remember that many years have passed. Second, the family living in the house in the first film was a very different family — the father was absolutely the head of the household and the children had very little imprint on the house. In our film, the children were practically running the house! Everything is much more colorful here than the original — there’s a bit of a Bohemian feel and it’s all very lived in. Do you remember that in the original there wasn’t even a sofa in the front room?
Sandy Powell: Is there not? How weird!
John Myhre: That house in the original was not built with comfort in mind.
Sandy Powell: Oh, it’s true, they’re often standing up, aren’t they, now that I think about it. Coming in and having conversations standing up.
John Myhre: Right, and our house is much more based on the family’s current reality, especially with Michael’s wife being gone. The kids are there, their mess is all around, children’s books everywhere, teacups on the side. It’s a real lived-in place.
The interior of 17 Cherry Tree Lane
But I did so appreciate
all those subtle touches that reminded us of Jane and Michael Banks’ childhood.
That scene when they’re looking through their old things in the attic was so
poignant.
John Myhre: The bit with the children’s snow globe was lovely. Rob Marshall
and I went to the Disney Archives early on and asked if there were things we
could see from the 1964 film. They had one of the three carpetbags made for
Mary but believe it not, they hadn’t saved any of them so they had to buy it
back at an auction from someone who had won it in a magazine contest! But Disney did have the building blocks from
the children’s nursery that you see in “Spoonful of Sugar” along with the
Jack-in-the-box and the snow globe. When they pulled out the box with the snow
globe, it had broken and so was empty, there was no longer any water. Rob and I
just looked at each other and thought, oh my God, this tells everything we need
to convey about how Michael feels about his childhood. So we used it.
Oh, wow. Sandy, I have
to say how much I loved Emily Mortimer’s clothes as Jane Banks. How did you
determine her grown-up look?
Sandy Powell: I put Jane in pants because I wanted to show that she was her
mother’s daughter, still very progressive and fighting for change. I wanted to
show her as a modern emancipated woman. That wasn’t in the script or anything,
I just wanted to get her in pants!
Love it. How about
Michael?
Sandy Powell: We knew that Michael wanted to be an artist but was forced to
work in the bank for financial reasons. We decided he should always have an air
of dishevelment.
So different from his
dad!
Sandy Powell: Right. Even when he puts on his suit to go to work, he still
looks disheveled because it’s just not his thing.
Emily Mortimer and Ben Wishaw as the grown-up Jane and Michael Banks
What’s the process like
of working with the actors and Rob. Is there a lot of interplay with the
designs? Not that I can imagine anyone questioning your instincts.
Sandy Powell: Oh sure, lots of little things, nothing really drastic. I think
I’d be very bored if it was just me designing something with no one having any
comments about it. Ultimately, I’m working for the director.
John Myhre: Yeah, the fun part is the collaboration.
Sandy Powell: Exactly. I love when someone questions something and it makes me
think about it. It might force me down a different avenue where I can find
something better.
And I assume that the collaboration
between you two is very strong as well.
Sandy Powell: Yes. We work in very close proximity to each other. My room was
very close to John’s and I would very often look at his plans and the colors
and think about how the costumes would look in those sets. I need to know what
the room is going to be, you don’t want characters blending into the background
or clashing with the wallpaper!
John Myhre: I remember how exciting it was when we did our first camera
tests. We just used the most simplistic backgrounds but in the right colors and
then your beautiful work came in Sandy, and it was so exciting for me to see
them come together for the first time.
Sandy Powell: It would be impossible to do something like this in isolation.
You can’t have John doing his thing over there and have me doing my thing over
here, and just hope it all comes together. That would never work.
Mary Poppins Returns (2018)
Mary Poppins Returns is now available on DVD and Blu-ray and can be viewed on various
digital platforms including Netflix.
Win tickets to see “The Shawshank Redemption 25th Anniversary” on the Big Screen! In Select Cinemas Nationwide Sun Sept 22, Tues Sept 24 and Wed Sept 25
“I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy living, or get busy dying.”
CMH continues with our 4th year of our partnership with Fathom Events – with the 11th of our 14 movie ticket giveaways for 2019, courtesy of Fathom Events!
We’ll be giving away EIGHT PAIRS of tickets to see “TCM Big Screen Classics: The Shawshank Redemption 25th Anniversary” on the Big Screen — starring Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman.
In order to qualify to win a pair of movie tickets via this contest, you must complete the below entry task by Saturday, Sept 7 at 6pm EST.
We will announce the winner(s) on Twitter on Sunday, Sept 8, between 6PM EST and 7PM EST. If a winner(s) does not have a Twitter account, we will announce that winner(s) via this blog in the comment section below.
ENTRY TASK (2-parts) to be completed by Saturday Sept 7 at 6pm EST…
1) Answer the below question via the comment section at the bottom of this blog post
THE QUESTION: Although not officially a classic-era film, what in your opinion makes “The Shawshank Redemption” a classic? And, if you haven’t seen it, why do you want to see it on the Big Screen?
2) Then TWEET* (not DM) the following message: I just entered to win tickets to see “TCM Big Screen Classics Presents: The Shawshank Redemption 25th Anniversary” on the Big Screen courtesy of @ClassicMovieHub & @FathomEvents – you can enter too at http://ow.ly/UofZ50vF8mM
IMPORTANT: If you don’t have a Twitter account OR if your Twitter account is private, you can still enter the contest by simply answering the above question via the comment section at the bottom of this blog — BUT PLEASE ENSURE THAT YOU ADD THIS VERBIAGE TO YOUR ANSWER: I do not have a Twitter account (or it is private), so I am posting here to enter but cannot tweet the message.
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Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman in The Shawshank Redemption (1994)
About the film: From a novella by best-selling author Stephen King comes a poignant tale of the human spirit. Red (Morgan Freeman), serving a life sentence, and Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins), a mild-mannered banker wrongly convicted of murder, forge an unlikely bond that will span more than twenty years. Together they discover hope as the ultimate means of survival. This 25th anniversary event includes exclusive insight from Turner Classic Movies.
Please note that only United States residents are eligible to enter this giveaway contest. (see contest rules for further information)
BlogHub members ARE also eligible to win if they live within the Continental United States (as noted above).
Film noir is teeming with well-known starring roles for women — Jane Greer in Out of the Past, Barbara Stanwyck in Double Indemnity, and Gene Tierney in Laura come immediately to mind. But there are also lots of one-scene wonders, those female characters whose physical presence may come and go, but whose impact packs a wallop. This month’s Noir Nook serves up a new series by taking a look at these characters – my inaugural entry in the series shines the spotlight on one such character in one of my favorite noirs, The Big Heat(1953).
Dorothy Green
This first-rate film stars Glenn Ford as Dave O’Bannion, a tough, uber-righteous big-city detective who is determined to unearth the truth behind the suicide of a fellow cop, Tom Duncan, and his connection to a local mob boss, Mike Lagana (Alexander Scourby). Others in this multi-layered feature include Lagana’s right-hand man, the sadistic Vince Stone (Lee Marvin); Vince’s money-loving girlfriend, Debby Marsh (Gloria Grahame), who’s flighty on the outside but steely on the inside; and Bertha Duncan (Jeannette Nolan), the not-so-grieving widow of the dead cop.
Dorothy Green and Glenn Ford in The Big Heat (1953)
Aside from these featured roles, there’s another character in the film
who, while appearing in only one scene, plays a pivotal role in the film’s
plot. She’s Lucy Chapman (Dorothy Green), a world-weary, self-described “B-girl,”
who contacts the dead cop’s superiors, insisting that Duncan couldn’t have
committed suicide. Dave O’Bannion is dispatched to meet with the woman, and he
promptly learns that she was Duncan’s mistress. Lucy maintains that, contrary
to his wife’s claims, Tom Duncan was in perfect health and had been in
especially good spirits since his wife had agreed to a divorce. O’Bannion’s
response is skeptical, bordering on insulting: “What’s your pitch, Lucy?” he
asks her. “You trying to use us for a shakedown?” Despite O’Bannion’s derisive
reaction to her claims, Lucy is earnest and resolute, even threatening to take
her story to the newspapers. O’Bannion maintains his doubts during their
interview, but Lucy’s story gives him pause, and he ends up returning to the
home of Duncan’s widow for more questioning. Sadly, his change of heart comes
too late for Lucy – the following day, she is found strangled to death.
Lucy’s abbreviated, seemingly inconsequential interaction with O’Bannion becomes the catalyst that leads to his relentless investigation of Duncan’s death and ultimately connects Duncan and his wife to the criminal enterprise run by the refined but ruthless Mike Lagana. While Lucy’s life and death are dismissed by O’Bannion’s boss (“Some of these babes keep pretty shady company,” he says. “They know nobody cares much what happens to them”), O’Bannion believes her story and her courage in coming forward is invaluable.
An autographed photo of Green
The character of Lucy was played by Dorothy Green, who was born in Los Angeles in 1920. She wasn’t bitten by the acting bug until she was in her early 30s after she was married and had started a family. After a chance meeting at a charity event with the wife of an agent, the woman introduced Green to her spouse and the agent encouraged Green to pursue acting. Her first acting gig was in 1953 on an episode of TV’s The Jack Benny Program; later that year, she made her feature film debut in The Big Heat. Green went on to appear in small parts in such big-screen features as Them! (1954); Trial (1955), another Glenn Ford starrer; and The Helen Morgan Story (1957), as well as numerous television shows, most notably on the daytime soap The Young and the Restless. Her last appearance was on a Canadian television show in 1997; she died nine years later at the age of 88.
Stay tuned to the Noir Nook for more minor but memorable women (and men!) in film noir. And let me know if you have any suggestions for future posts!
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– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub
Karen Burroughs Hannsberry is the author of the Shadows and Satin blog, which focuses on movies and performers from the film noir and pre-Code eras, and the editor-in-chief of The Dark Pages, a bimonthly newsletter devoted to all things film noir. Karen is also the author of two books on film noir – Femme Noir: The Bad Girls of Film and Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir. You can follow Karen on Twitter at @TheDarkPages. If you’re interested in learning more about Karen’s books, you can read more about them on amazon here:
Silents are Golden: Before Valentino – 6 Heartthrobs Of The 1910s
When Rudolph Valentino became a 1920s superstar thanks to the megahits The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse(1921) and The Sheik(1921), he basically changed the definition of “matinee idol” forever. Unlike many popular actors at the time, who tended to be steady, “regular guy” types, the young Italian often played characters with a dangerous edge and definite air of sensuality. Even today, it’s not hard to see why women became obsessed with him.
Which might make you wonder: before Valentino, which leading actors were considered major heartthrobs? After all, when we list handsome silent film actors today, 1920s personalities like John Gilbert or Ramon Novarro will spring to mind–but who were the “hotties” of the Edwardian era?
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6.
Harold Lockwood
Harold Lockwood
You’ve probably never heard of Harold Lockwood, but in the mid-1910s his name was known from sea to shining sea. Raised in Newark, New Jersey, in his late teens Lockwood felt drawn to the stage, at which point his father promptly (and unsurprisingly) convinced him to go to business school. After his studies, he became a drygoods salesman — all of which pretty much cemented Lockwood’s desire to become an actor. After several years in the theater, in 1911 Lockwood sent a letter of introduction to director Edwin S. Porter. Having a hunch about the good-looking young man, Porter made Lockwood one of his lead actors.
Porter’s hunch was correct, for Lockwood swiftly became one of the biggest names in Hollywood, acting in over 130 films. He was frequently being paired with actress May Allison, and they were considered an adorable screen pair. Unfortunately, Lockwood’s stardom wouldn’t last long; like millions of other unfortunates, he contracted the Spanish flu during the great 1918 epidemic. He passed away at a hotel in New York City, at the mere age of 31.
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5.
Francis X. Bushman
Francis X. Bushman
This portrait might hold some clues as to why Francis X. Bushman was so popular. As a youth, Bushman developed an interest in bodybuilding, eventually worked as a sculptor’s model, and in 1911 got into “pictures.” During his busy career, he would star in almost 200 films, and was dubbed “The Handsomest Man In The World” and “The King of the Movies.” He also donated land on Hollywood Boulevard to showman Sid Grauman, who used it to build the world-famous Chinese Theater.
All wasn’t smooth sailing for Bushman, however. In 1918 there was a nation-wide scandal when it was revealed he was having an affair with actress Beverly Bayne (Bushman would be married four times in all). He career had a downturn by 1919, and he attempted a comeback with the role of Messala in the wildly-anticipated Ben-Hur (1925). But even Ben-Hur couldn’t bring him back to superstardom, so eventually, he turned to keeping busy in radio and television until his death from a heart attack in 1966.
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4.
Earle Williams
Earle Williams
In the Edwardian era, Earle Williams’s popularity was at such a height that fan magazine polls voted him “most popular actor” in 1915. After acting stints in the theaters of San Francisco, he got a head start in “moving pictures” in 1908. Becoming a lead player at the pioneering Vitagraph Studio, he was frequently paired with the popular Anita Stewart. Some of his biggest hits included The Juggernaut (1915), a thrilling disaster drama that involved crashing a real train, and the serial The Goddess (1915).
His career stayed strong throughout the 1920s when he became one of Paramount’s most dependable players. But he wouldn’t live to see the talkies — he passed away from bronchial pneumonia in 1927. His pallbearers would include such esteemed Hollywood figures as Irving Thalberg and Louis B. Mayer.
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3.
Sessue Hayakawa
Sessue Hayakawa
Of all the 1910s heartthrobs, Sessue Hayakawa was the biggest kindred spirit to Valentino’s dangerous 1920s sheik. His background was tinged with both drama and good fortune: after failing to get into a Japanese naval academy, a rift came between him and his father and he attempted suicide. Upon his recovery, he went to study at the University of Chicago. While in Los Angeles planning on taking a ship back to Japan, he decided to visit the Japanese Theatre in Little Tokyo. Fascinated, he decided on a career in the theater.
His innate talent led to being spotted by movie producer Thomas H. Ince. His popularity took off and soon, Hayakawa was one of the top-paid actors in cinema. Frequently playing suave, “exotic” villains, his brooding good looks made him a major sex symbol of the era. In the 1920s he turned his attention to Japanese and European cinema, and his most famous talkie role would be in The Bridge on the River Kwai. He passed away in 1973, having made over 100 film appearances.
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2.
Antonio Moreno
Antonio Moreno
A native of Spain, Antonio Moreno emigrated to the U.S. as a teenager and became an actor in the Massachusetts theaters. Heading to Hollywood in 1912, he signed with the prestigious Biograph studio and then moved to Vitagraph where he co-starred with the popular Norma Talmadge. His prolific work in serials earned him the title of “King of the Cliffhangers.”
In the 1920s, Moreno’s smoldering looks made him a worthy rival to Valentino’s “Latin Lover” roles. His versatility led to acting with numerous superstars like Clara Bow, Greta Garbo, Gloria Swanson, and Colleen Moore. His thick Spanish accent made the talkies difficult for him, however, and he would supplement his Hollywood work with roles in Mexican films. Reinventing himself as a character actor, he had a number of lauded roles in the ‘40s and ‘50s, including appearances in The Searchers, Captain from Castileand Creature From the Black Lagoon. Retiring in the ‘50s, he lived out his days in Beverly Hills, passing away in 1967.
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1.
Wallace Reid
Wallace Reid
Often called “Wally” by his adoring fans, Wallace Reid was perhaps the biggest matinee idol of the 1910s. Born into a show business family from St. Louis, Reid began working in cinema after his father Hal started writing and directing films around 1910. A clean-cut, athletic type with an easy sense of humor, Reid was soon cast in leads (he also enjoyed directing) and his star rose very quickly. A car enthusiast, in the late 1910s he became a kind of action hero, playing race car drivers in thrillers like The Roaring Road(1919) and Excuse My Dust(1920).
By the end of the decade, Reid’s film schedule grew increasingly hectic. In 1919 he was injured in a trainwreck, and a doctor prescribed morphine for the pain — and to help keep Reid churning out 8-9 features a year. Reid quickly became addicted, however, and tragically the beloved actor passed away in 1923. His wife, actress Dorothy Davenport, would release a film called Human Wreckage(1923) warning of the dangers of drug addiction.
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They came from different backgrounds, different countries, and are largely forgotten today, but all of these actors managed to make their mark on Hollywood history — and on countless adoring fans. And today, watching these clean-cut Edwardian gentlemen in their well-tailored clothes reminds me that really, tastes haven’t changed all that much.
Lea Stans is a born-and-raised Minnesotan with a degree in English and an obsessive interest in the silent film era (which she largely blames on Buster Keaton). In addition to blogging about her passion at her site Silent-ology, she is a columnist for the Silent Film Quarterlyand has also written for The Keaton Chronicle.
It was an early afternoon in June as I trooped along from Edinburgh’s Royal Mile near George IV Bridge with my family in tow. We were headed for Greyfriars Kirkyard to poke around the tombs until our tour time at Edinburgh Castle, and the old city heaved with tourists from around the globe, all jostling for selfies with the statue of Greyfriars Bobby and gawking at the inevitable bagpipers kitted out in full Highland garb and blasting “Loch Lomond” for spare change. I was winded, hungry, and rather out of sorts after the long uphill climb from Princes Street, which my knees very much resented, when I looked up and found myself staring into the enormous face of Frankenstein’s monster. Frankenstein! I laughed out loud. Boris Karloff had been haunting me through our whole UK trip, and now here we were, face to face, at the entrance to a pub called Frankenstein.
Boris Karloff is a quintessential name in classic horror, leaving one to wonder if William Henry Pratt would have been so successful had he not adopted the ominous Continental pseudonym. He was born in Camberwell, now part of South London, in 1887, the youngest of nine children. He left England for Canada and then Hollywood, but he returned to his native country late in life and died there in 1969. His most famous role, that of the nameless creature in Frankenstein (1931), doesn’t particularly connect him with England or make use of his rich, distinctly British voice, but it wasn’t only Frankenstein that kept Karloff on my mind as I toured London, York, and Edinburgh over a ten-day trip.
In Bedlam, Karloff’s evil keeper terrorizes the inmates of the notorious 18th century London mental asylum.
In London, I thought of Karloff as the club-footed henchman to Basil Rathbone’s Richard III in Tower of London (1939) and as the keeper of the infamous madhouse in Bedlam (1946). We toured the west side of Highgate Cemetery, where the guide’s lecture on Victorian cemetery security measures put me in mind of Corridors of Blood (1958), in which Karloff’s London physician gets mixed up with cadaver trader and murderer Resurrection Joe, played to menacing effect by Christopher Lee. Highgate is a mecca for classic horror fans, having appeared as a location in Taste the Blood of Dracula (1970), The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971), and Tales from the Crypt (1972), among others. If it doesn’t set your imagination swirling with images of horror icons nothing will. As I stood in a dark crypt surrounded by moldering coffins I could almost hear Karloff, in the slow rumble of Frankenstein’s creature in Bride of Frankenstein (1935), insisting “We belong dead.” It sent a shiver up my spine.
In Corridors of Blood, Karloff plays a pioneering surgeon in Victorian London whose pursuit of medical innovation leads to addiction and murder.
The rest of our journey continued the Gothic mood as history and horror entwined at every stop. York has its own connections to Richard III, of course, but a ghost bus tour on a rainy night prompted thoughts of The Old Dark House (1932) and The Ghoul (1933) and a visit to a castle prison helped to keep Tower of London and Bedlam stirring in my thoughts while adding The Strange Door (1951) into the mix. We stayed in a 17th-century convent where we peered down into the gloomy confines of a priest hole in the chapel, but we didn’t get a glimpse of their most prized possession, the severed hand of the Catholic martyr Margaret Clitherow, whose execution by pressing was as gruesome as any horror film could devise. It was just the sort of thing that Mord, Karloff’s character in Tower of London, would have enjoyed inflicting on his victims in Richard’s dungeon.
Karloff stars as the grave robber John Gray in The Body Snatcher, which is set in Edinburgh and inspired by the crimes of real-life resurrection men Burke and Hare.
By the time we reached Edinburgh, I had a head full of cemeteries, monsters, and murder, which is probably the perfect attitude in which to tour a city so famous for dark deeds. No wonder the Frankenstein pub is situated there! We got a thorough review of Edinburgh’s history of horrors at the Edinburgh Dungeon, where a segment of the tour is devoted to the infamous grave robbers Burke & Hare, along with their accomplice Dr. Knox. That, of course, reminded me of Karloff’s role in the 1945 film, The Body Snatcher, adapted from a short story by Edinburgh’s own Robert Louis Stevenson and directly inspired by the notorious grave robbers. It was the perfect conclusion to a trip where Karloff’s presence had constantly haunted me.
The persistence with which Karloff recurred in my thoughts during our journey reminded me how essential he is to our sense of classic horror. Whatever he plays, whether henchman or monster or tormented gentleman, Karloff always excels, and he looks equally at home in medieval torture chambers and gaslit Victorian alleys. Imagine Universal or Val Lewton or even Roger Corman without his talents. Frankenstein (1931) made him famous, but The Mummy (1932) showed his uncanny ability to mesmerize the audience with his rich voice and dark, piercing gaze. Lewton was very good at giving Karloff later roles that made the most of his tremendous screen presence, especially in The Body Snatcher and Bedlam, while Corman gave him the chance to show his comedic side in the last years of his career, particularly in The Comedy of Terrors (1963).
When he died, Karloff was cremated, and his ashes were deposited at Guildford Crematorium in Surrey, but you don’t need to visit Guildford to feel close to him. Any shadowy cemetery crypt or foggy cobblestone street can conjure him, especially in the history haunted settings of his native country. Frankenstein’s monster might be long dead, but Boris Karloff lives on, not just in his roles but in the delicious, dreadful thrill of familiarity we feel when we find ourselves in places where horror films and history overlap.
How many Films did Barbara Stanwyck and Robert Taylor Star in Together?
Barbara Stanwyck and Robert Taylor were married on May 14, 1939, after about three years of ‘dating’… They divorced in February 1952 (some sources say 1951), and although they did not star in any films together during their 12-plus-year marriage, they did make three films together over the course of their careers.
Stanwyck and Taylor starred in THREE FILMs together, two before their marriage, and one 12+ years after their divorce.
His Brothers Wife (1936) (romantic drama directed by W.S. Van Dyke)
This is My Affair (1937) (crime drama directed by William A. Seiter)
1. Stanwyck and Taylor got their marriage license about a week prior to tying the knot, keeping their plans a secret, and registering under their legal names Ruby (Catherine) Stevens and (Spangler) Arlington Brugh.
Newlyweds Brugh and Stevens, aka Taylor and Stanwyck
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2. The couple eloped to San Diego and were married a little after midnight on May 14th, superstitious of getting married on the 13th.
3. Zeppo Marx ‘s wife, Marion, who introduced Stanwyck to Taylor, was Stanwyck’s Matron of Honor.
Barbara Stanwyck, Zeppo and Marion Marx, and Robert Taylor, 1939.
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4. Stanwyck and The Marxes were steadfast friends, and together they established Marwyck (now Oakridge Estate), a thoroughbred ranch and state of the art horse breeding facility.
