Clarine Seymour was born on December 9, 1898, in Brooklyn,
New York, New York. She was born to Albert and Florence Seymour, a wealthy
Methodist couple. Her father ran a ribbon manufacturing business until 1916,
when an illness forced him to close the business.
When she was a child, Seymour appeared in church
performances. The family relocated to New Rochelle, New York, where Seymour
continued performing at the Thanhouser Film Company as a film extra to further
support her family. She appeared in two shorts while in their employ: Pots-and-Pans Peggy (1917) and It Happened to Adele (1917). Later, she
appeared in a Pearl White serial for Pathé.
Seymour’s career began to rise when she appeared in Mystery of the Double Cross (1917) for
Pathé. Producer Hal Roach saw her performance and offered her a contract with
his Rolin Film Company, which she accepted. She moved to Los Angeles,
California, to portray the lead actress in the Toto the Clown series and also
had a supporting role opposite Stan Laurel in the comedic short Just Rambling Along (1918). However, Seymour
claimed that Roach fired her for refusing to do her own stunts. She sued
Roach’s company for breaking her contract and won $1,325 in damages. All the
while, she was appearing in comedy shorts for Al Christie.
In 1918, director and producer Victor Heerman directed a
screen test showcasing Seymour and director D.W. Griffith’s Artcraft stock
player, Robert Harron. Griffith was pleased with the performance and hired her
as part of the stock company. She would appear in a succession of films,
including The Girl Who Stayed Home (1919),
True Heart Susie (1919), and Scarlet Days (1919).
True Heart Susie
In 1920, Seymour was cast in Way Down East (1920), but became ill halfway through filming due to
intestinal strangulation. She was admitted to Misericordia Hospital in New York
City but did not improve. After undergoing emergency surgery, she contracted
pneumonia and died four days later on April 25, 1920.
Actress Mary Hay was cast to replace Seymour’s role in the
film, though Seymour can still be spotted in the film’s long shots.
Though Seymour claimed Roach fired her over not executing
her own stunts, Roach, in later years, shared that Seymour associated with a
group of Hollywood stars who were known for partying and drug use. On September
26, 1920, a joint memorial service was held for not only Seymour but also Orner
Locklear (a daredevil stunt pilot and actor who perished in an airplane crash),
actress Olive Thomas (who passed from an accidental overdose), and actor and
fellow Griffith stock player Robert Harron (who passed from an alleged
accidental self-inflicted gunshot wound two days after the Way Down East premiere). All were eulogized by director William
Desmond Taylor, whose own still unsolved murder would occur 18 months later.
Seymour is buried at Greenwood Union Cemetery in Rye, New
York.
In 1900, Seymour and her family resided at 1249 Degraw St.,
New York, New York. The home has since been razed. In 1910, Seymour and her
family lived in Brooklyn at 939 Sterling Pl., New York, New York. That building
stands today.
939 Sterling Pl., New York, New York.
By 1920, the family had moved to 12 Thomas Pl., New
Rochelle, New York. That home also stands.
Greenwood Cemetery is located at 215 North St., Rye, New York.
Annette Bochenek, Ph.D., is a film historian, professor, and avid scholar of Hollywood’s Golden Age. She manages the “Hometowns to Hollywood” blog, in which she profiles her trips to the hometowns of classic Hollywood stars. She has also been featured on the popular classic film-oriented television network, Turner Classic Movies. A regular columnist for Classic Movie Hub, her articles have appeared in TCM Backlot, Silent Film Quarterly, Nostalgia Digest, The Dark Pages Film Noir Newsletter, and Chicago Art Deco Society Magazine.
Back in 2019, I
kicked off the new year with some of my favorite quotes from some of my
favorite noirs. So much has changed in our world since then – but one thing
that’s remained the same is the awesome lines that can be found in the films of
classic noir. Because one good turn deserves another, I’m ringing in 2025 with
even more great quotes. Enjoy! And happy noir year!
…..
Fallen Angel
“I got
everything by talking fast in a world that goes for talking. And ended up with
exactly nothing.” – Eric Stanton (Dana Andrews) in Fallen Angel (1945)
“I want a
monopoly on you, David, or whatever it is that people have when they don’t want
anyone else to have any of you.” – Louise Howell Graham (Joan Crawford) in Possessed
(1947)
“The next time
you must indulge your hot, Spanish passion for dramatics, put on a uniform with
polished boots and stomp around your wife’s bedchamber. Do not attempt
brilliant decisions.” – Marcel Jarnac (Luther Adler) in Cornered (1945)
Leave Her to Heaven
“All my life I’ve tried to love you, done everything to please you. . . . And what have you done? With your love you wrecked Mother’s life, you pressed Father to death, and you’ve made a shadow of Richard. I don’t envy you – I’m sorry for you. You’re the most pitiful creature I’ve ever known.” – Ruth Berent (Jeanne Crain) in Leave Her to Heaven (1945)
“I don’t like
blackmailers – nor would you, if you were in my business. They constitute a
very bad industrial hazard.” – Frank Hugo (Fred Clark) in Ride the Pink
Horse (1947)
“How far could
I get with you? What do you want me to do, let him get us both? You have to
watch out for yourself – that’s the way it is, I’m sorry. What do you want me
to do, throw away all this money?” – Anna Dundee (Yvonne DeCarlo) in Criss
Cross (1949)
The Big Combo
“He used to be
my boss. Now I’m his. . . . First is first and second is nobody.” – Mr. Brown
(Richard Conte) in The Big Combo (1955)
“I said I liked
it – I didn’t say I wanted to kiss it.” – Laurel Gray (Gloria Grahame) in In
a Lonely Place (1950)
“Anybody who
puts the finger on me is living on borrowed time.” – Harry Colton (Lawrence
Tierney) in Shakedown (1950)
Out of the Past
“You’re no good
and neither am I. We deserve each other.” – Kathie Moffat (Jane Greer) in Out
of the Past (1947)
“You seem like
a reasonable man. Why don’t we make a deal? What’s it worth to you to turn your
considerable talents back to the gutter you crawled out of?” – Carl Evello
(Paul Stewart) in Kiss Me Deadly (1955)
“You like
poetry, hon? George hated poetry. He hit me once when I recited Robert Burns.
He hit me right in the eye. George was no good. George had no manners at all.”
– Harriet Sinton (Jean Hagen) in Side Street (1950)
Danger Signal
“Face it – if
you’re smart, you can get just about anything you want. If you can’t get it one
way, you can get it another.” – Ronnie Mason (Zachary Scott) in Danger
Signal (1945)
“A girl has to
keep her head one step of her heart if she wants to get along.” – Francine
Huber (Signe Hasso) in Strange Triangle (1946)
“One thing
about me, I never stick my nose into business that don’t concern me. It don’t
pay.” – Shorty (Harry Morgan) in The Gangster (1947)
Among the Living
“You afraid of
those ghosts they’re all talking about? I guess I made a mistake. I thought you
were a man. Sorry.” – Millie Perkins (Susan Hayward) in Among the Living (1941)
“One more crack
like that and I’ll slap your kisser off ya. Believe me?” – Barney Nolan (Edmond
O’Brien) in Shield for Murder (1954)
“You said I
didn’t know the difference between right and wrong. What’s right for Walter and
myself? For us to tell the truth? And hang for it? For what? What was she? A
mean, vicious, hateful old woman who never did anything for anybody. What was
he? A thief, a drunk, someone who would have died in the gutter anyway. Neither
one of them had any right to live.” – Martha Ivers (Barbara Stanwyck) in The
Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946)
Sudden Fear
“I’ve got to
think fast. Got to think of a nice, foolproof little accident.” – Lester Blaine
(Jack Palance) in Sudden Fear (1952)
“Don’t think you’re going to walk out on me. It isn’t as easy as all that.” – Vivian Heldon (Jan Sterling) in Mystery Street (1950)
…
– 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:
No, that’s not a joke. It’s the opening scene of a 1956
low-budget film with the straightforward and generic title of The Werewolf.
And if you’ve seen other werewolf films, you’ll guess right away that the
disheveled and anxious man who stumbles into a small-town bar with no memory is
the title creature.
A close-up of the solid makeup work by Clay Campbell in the 1956 film The Werewolf.
Why? Well, he’s clearly distraught and depressed, characteristics we’ve seen in other classic film werewolves. Yes, werewolves violently rip necks open but have a heart – it’s not a life they chose. Thanks to Lon Chaney Jr. in his Universal films, I’ve always seen the werewolf as a pitiful creature, caught in a tragic life through no fault of its own. Often, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, like Chaney was in The Wolf Man. Or they are the victim of a family curse, a popular fate in films like Cry of the Werewolf (1944) and The Curse of the Werewolf (1961).
Chaney’s Wolf Man films worked so well because they were as much about Larry Talbot, the man, as they were about the wolf he became. When he was resurrected in the Universal mash-up films Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1942), House of Frankenstein(1944) and House of Dracula(1945) he become sadder and more tragic in each film, begging to be killed so he can escape his cursed life.
“Back to a life of misery and despair – I only wanted to
die,” he says in House of Dracula.
(He at least got to be the hero in the comedy Abbott and
Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948).
* * * * *
Poor freezing-cold amnesiac Duncan March (played by Steven Ritch) has no idea why he woke up in the snow without his socks in The Werewolf.
For Duncan Marsh, our amnesiac lycanthrope in The Werewolf, his sad twist of fate happens after a car crash when he’s treated by two unscrupulous country doctors who use him as a test subject by injecting him with irradiated wolf serum they created to survive a nuclear apocalypse. (You’re right, that doesn’t make sense.)
When the disoriented Duncan (played by Steven Ritch) arrives
at the bar with a twenty-dollar bill, he’s marked by a thug who follows him
outside for the money. That’s how we learn this werewolf doesn’t transform by
the light of a full moon; he simply needs to be afraid or angry. The thug never
had a chance and the odds are stacked against our man-wolf who spends most of
the film afraid or angry.
The only bit of luck Duncan has is stumbling into the office of the kind town doctor Gilchrist (Ken Christy) and his assistant/nurse Amy (Joyce Holden) who believe that something bad has happened to the pitiful and remorseful man. Though he’s starting to remember pieces of the past few days including the crash and the doctors, he is so skittish that he runs off. Gilchrist and Amy try to discover the truth and convince the sheriff (Don Megowan) to take Duncan alive. That will be a tough task with the whole town dressed in their hunting hats while out to destroy the “killer wolf.” (The scene of the vengeful torch-bearing mob is a throwback to Frankenstein and other Universal films.)
Dr. Gilchrist (Ken Christy) and his assistant/nurse Amy (Joyce Holden) try to help a stranger with amnesia (Steven Ritch) in The Werewolf.
Arriving in town are Duncan’s loving wife and young son, as well as the two “evil” doctors who are out to protect their experiment – or at least make sure their secret dies with Duncan. All these elements will, of course, converge.
* * * * *
I discovered The Werewolf while looking for werewolf films to watch in anticipation of two new films, Wolf Man from Blumhouse and The Beast Within.
Unfamiliar with it, I barely expected The Werewolf to reach “B-movie” level quality. But it has some surprisingly solid attributes including the wolf makeup and transformation, cinematography and how deeply affecting it is (try not to be touched in scenes with Duncan, his wife and son).
Shadows of prison cell bars loom behind the wolf man and evil scientist in the hunting hat in The Werewolf.
The makeup was created by Clay Campbell (The Return of the Vampire) and the wolf’s extra-long facial hair and ferocious pointed teeth hold up to other werewolves. The transformation is through time-lapse photography that is appropriate for genre. I appreciate that the creature is a true wolf and man as he stays the same size as both (even his suit stays intact).
Director of Photography Edward Linden (King Kong, Son of Kong), who died shortly after this film was completed, crafted stylish scenes. My favorite is when the evil doctors attack Duncan in his prison cell and the immense shadows cast from the bars are angled in a way to suggest that life is crashing down on the three men.
* * * * *
The opening credits give the “introducing” banner – used to herald a (hopefully) rising star – to Steven Ritch, who does a better-than-admiral job as our man-wolf. His pain is evident throughout and I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him from the get-go, so I was expecting to see a nice line of acting credits for him after this film. Though he had a steady career, the roles that followed don’t depict that he given parts in recognition for the skills he showed in The Werewolf. He had small roles in a few movies and in many TV shows, plus writing credits including the 1957 film Plunder Road in which he also acted, along with episodes of such TV shows as 77 Sunset Strip, Hawaiian Eye and Wagon Train.
Though the film’s low budget is evident, and I felt cheated by the end, I still came away as a fan of The Werewolf.
* * * * *
A TRIO OF WEREWOLF FILMS
Here are three other notable werewolf films – one for
historic reasons, the other two simply because I find them interesting.
The Werewolf (1913)
Canadian actress Phyllis Gordon was the original Universal monster in this silent film. The two-reeler was produced by Bison Film Co. and released by Universal Film Manufacturing Co., a precursor to Universal Studios.
The silent film, The Werewolf.
Unfortunately, the film was destroyed in a 1924 fire and is considered lost so we can’t watch it but shouldn’t forget that it is part of film history.
It is based on a Navajo legend, which is mentioned in other werewolf films. This time, a spurned Navajo woman, a witch, raises her daughter, Watoma (Phyllis Gordon), to hate white men like her father, and teaches her how to change into a werewolf.
Watoma suffers her own tragedy and returns to life 100 years after her death seeking vengeance on the man who killed her boyfriend.
I love this
little-known horror film. It’s low budget, but high quality through the
atmospheric cinematography of Lucien Ballard and a fun cast of actors with
unfamiliar names.
What could those ferocious howls in the dark mean for the House of Hammond in The Undying Monster.
It’s set at one of those cliff side mansions so omnipresent in British horror films, this one being the magnificently grand House of Hammond.
Talk is immediate of legends of the Hammond monster and of the relative who sold his soul to the devil and now lives in a secret room in the castle. Adding to the drama is a spooky old Scottish saying – also carved into a basement wall – that portends tragedy ahead: “When stars are bright on a frosty night, beware thy bane on the rocky lane.” (A clear variation of the classic quote from The Wolf Man.)
Current castle residents are the spunky Helga (Heather Angel) and her brother Oliver (John Howard) who don’t believe all of that nonsense, but still live under the weight of it all.
A motley group searching for the legendary hidden room inside the Hammond mansion find all sorts of artifacts in The Undying Monster.
The film is highly atmospheric with action set mostly inside the candlelit castle that is colored by moody shadows. There are plenty of howls in the night – “lost souls,” the creepy maid says, and the cliffs are punctuated by large boulders and striking wind-swept trees frozen in movement.
When Howard is attacked on a moonlit night near where the body of maid is found mauled, it brings in a Scotland Yard scientist and his comical female sidekick Christy (Heather Thatcher) to investigate.
Is there really a curse? Is the killer beast or man? Sit around the campfire that is The Undying Monster and let the old yarn unravel and entertain you.
* * * * *
Calvin Lockhart plays a millionaire who has outfitted his island estate with microphones, cameras and televisions so he can hunt a werewolf in The Beast Must Die.
Right before a full moon, millionaire big-game hunter Tom Newcliffe (played by Calvin Lockhart) invites five guests to his island mansion. (How rich is he? He has invested in a security system with cameras and microphones throughout the island that will track every move and sound that is made.)
Each guest has one thing in common: He or she has been at a site of mysterious and gruesome murders, and Tom is sure one is a werewolf. It gets uncomfortable right away as the guests and Tom’s wife learn why they’re there. Peter Cushing is among those invited. People will be tested (here, touch this silver item and prove you’re not a werewolf), guests will turn on each other (“The backs of your hands are covered in hair!” – one exclaims) and yes, there will be blood (1970s-style) and people will die.
Peter Cushing, left, Calvin Lockhart and Tom Chadbon are pictured in this lobby card for The Beast Must Die.
While this is a horror movie from trustworthy Amicus Productions, it’s also a detective story that asks the viewer to guess the identity of the werewolf.
So be warned: You will be given a 30-second countdown to share your answer before the wolf is revealed. You might even get a couple of chances to do so. How did I do? I botched it up, but it all made sense in the end.
Toni Ruberto, born and raised in Buffalo, N.Y., is an editor and writer at The Buffalo News. She shares her love for classic movies in her blog, Watching Forever and is the board president and a member of the Classic Movie Blog Association. Toni was the president of the former Buffalo chapter of TCM Backlot and its offshoot group, Buffalo Classic Movie Buffs. She is proud to have put Buffalo and its glorious old movie palaces in the spotlight as the inaugural winner of the TCM in Your Hometown contest. You can find Toni on Twitter at @toniruberto.
Silver Screen Standards: On Dangerous Ground (1951)
Deep frost permeates Nicholas Ray’s 1951 noir classic,
On Dangerous Ground, freezing both the soul of its protagonist and the
stark winter landscape that dominates the second half of the film. Both
constitute the “dangerous ground” of the title, with Robert Ryan slipping into
violence as an urban cop whose disillusionment has chipped away his humanity
until the next suspect he meets might well end up on the cold slab of the
morgue. It’s a story with two very distinct parts, the first a gritty noir in a
nighttime world of cops, crooks, and dark alleys, and the second a snowy Western
where the open white space holds dangers of its own but also the opportunity
for self-knowledge and even redemption. There are certainly aspects of On
Dangerous Ground that don’t play as well today as they might have in the
1950s, particularly where police violence is concerned, but the movie still has
a lot to recommend it, including lead performances by Ryan and Ida Lupino,
striking cinematography in the snowy landscapes, and a noteworthy – and
frequently familiar – score by Bernard Herrmann.
The women Jim Wilson (Robert Ryan) meets on the job do little to counter his cynicism, although he responds to the sex appeal of Myrna (Cleo Moore).
When jaded city cop Jim Wilson (Robert Ryan) vents his
frustrations with the job by roughing up a series of suspects, his boss sends
him to cool off out in the country, where the murder of a young girl has rocked
the small community and sent her grieving father, Walter Brent (Ward Bond), in
search of retribution. On the trail of their main suspect, the pair of men find
Mary Malden (Ida Lupino), a blind woman who wants to protect her mentally
unstable younger brother (Sumner Williams) but also feels a powerful sympathy
for Jim. As he watches both Walter and Mary confront their own suffering and
grief, Jim begins to reclaim his ability to care about other people, even those
on the wrong side of the law.
Walter (Ward Bond) at first doubts that Mary (Ida Lupino) is really blind, and Jim must stop from Walter from hurting her.
The first half of the film presents us with an
anti-hero so dark and troubled that it’s hard to imagine redemption as an
option. Ryan’s hard features sell us on Jim’s bitterness even before we see him
lay hands on a suspect, but his brutality is shocking, even by the standards of
the 1950s. Jim’s partners, Pete (Anthony Ross) and Pop (Charles Kemper) are
also disturbed by his behavior; they are both married and have lives outside
their jobs to keep them in touch with their own humanity, while Jim lives alone
in a miserable one room apartment. Jim’s boss, Captain Brawley (Ed Begley),
warns him that his violent outbursts cannot be allowed to continue, although Jim
still seems surprised when he’s banished to “Siberia” after his abuse puts one
suspect in the hospital. There’s no sense of Jim being invested in ideals like
justice or fairness; he’s just another creature of the night, a predator whose
prey happen to be wanted men. The city he prowls is filled with teenage
prostitutes, crooks, and murderers, but even the ordinary citizens sense his tarnished
nature and recoil from him. “Cops have no friends,” Jim opines. “Nobody likes a
cop.” Thanks to his actions, it’s easy to see why.
Mary’s courage and warmth quickly thaw Jim’s heart, even though he knows that she’s trying to protect her brother from capture.
Fortunately for Jim, the plot casts him out of the
city’s dark heart and into the dazzling whiteness of a snow-covered countryside,
where he encounters people who force him to rethink his perspective. Grief has
hardened into bloodthirst in Walter Brent, who mirrors the kind of man Jim has
also become but realizes he cannot continue to be. Walter intends to kill the
suspect on sight, forcing Jim to become the one who practices restraint. Walter
even attempts to strike Mary because he thinks she’s only pretending to be
blind, and Jim must step in to protect her. If Walter offers Jim a grim
reflection of the man he is now, Mary offers him a glimpse of the man he could become,
someone who both gives and receives much-needed love in a cold, lonely world.
Mary might be too much of a noble martyr to be wholly credible (why would she
think allowing herself to go blind is a better option when it comes to caring
for the unpredictable Danny?), but Ida Lupino invests the character with depth
and interest through her performance. Even Danny, who only appears briefly, has
a profound impact on Jim. The sea change in Jim’s perspective might be hurried
in such a short film, where most of the action takes place within 24 hours, but
the story in many ways resembles A Christmas Carol without the
supernatural elements, and in Dickens’ tale the spirits also accomplish their aims
with Scrooge very quickly. It would be nice to see more of Jim’s redemption arc
so we feel that he really deserves his second chance; the theme of the picture,
however, is the importance of forgiveness and sympathy even to those who don’t
seem to deserve them, so we have to choose to believe that Jim will live up to
the opportunity extended to him.
The treacherous winter landscape provides a different kind of dangerous ground for Mary and Jim.
Director Nicholas Ray is remembered for his excellent contributions to classic noir, including They Live by Night (1948), In a Lonely Place (1950), and Johnny Guitar (1954), although his crowning achievement is the coming-of-age drama, Rebel without a Cause (1955). Ida Lupino played ingenues in her early career but eventually found her way into grittier roles more worthy of her talent, with some of my favorites being They Drive by Night (1940) and Ladies in Retirement (1941). Robert Ryan was equally at home in both Westerns and noir and often played villains, but I particularly admire his performance as the sympathetic boxer in The Set-Up (1949). You can see both Lupino and Ryan in Beware, My Lovely (1952), and Ray also directs Ryan in Born to be Bad (1950), The Racket (1951), and Flying Leathernecks (1951). The Western ambience in the second half of On Dangerous Ground is enhanced by the presence of genre regular Ward Bond, of course, but also by Olive Carey as Walter Brent’s wife and Frank Ferguson as Mr. Willows.
In this
month’s column, as we turn the corner into the new year, I want to particularly
focus on several Westerns celebrating their 75th anniversaries in 2025.
1950 was a key year in the Western genre. Important new
directors emerged on the scene, and their films demonstrated the continued
evolution and maturation of the genre. A number of Westerns now considered
classics broke new ground, featuring psychologically troubled heroes or
heroines and boldly tackling racism toward Indians.
Meanwhile, the great John Ford released two of his
loveliest works in 1950.
Troubled Heroes
Director Anthony Mann had been learning his craft in
“B” films and crime movies throughout the ’40s; his career took a
major step forward in 1950 with the release of three major Westerns. The first
of those films, Winchester ’73 (1950), was also the beginning
of his noteworthy eight-film collaboration with James Stewart.
In Winchester ’73 Stewart plays Lin
McAdam, who travels the west in search of a man named Dutch Henry Brown
(Stephen McNally) and the titular rifle. Stewart continued his postwar
character evolution first glimpsed in It’s a Wonderful Life (1946):
He’s likeable as always, yet with a substantially darker side. Viewers don’t
learn the reason for Lin’s trauma until late in the movie; the script is
remarkably well-written (by Borden Chase and Robert L. Richards) and performed
by Stewart. When Lin gets angry, he can be downright terrifying, yet he also
has a tender side, gallantly looking after a young woman played by Shelley
Winters.
Mann’s next Western was The Furies (1950),
in which Barbara Stanwyck plays Vance, a very, well, messed-up woman.
Vance has masochistic tendencies, which become apparent in her relationship
with Rip (Wendell Corey), and she also has a strangely physical and possessive
relationship with her father (Walter Huston) which leads her to violence
against her new stepmother (Judith Anderson). Meanwhile Vance rejects a
permanent, healthier relationship with the ill-fated man who truly loves her
(Gilbert Roland). This film laid the groundwork for later Western melodramas
featuring significant female leads such as Rancho Notorious (1952), Johnny
Guitar (1954), and Forty Guns (1957).
From director Henry King that year came The
Gunfighter (1950), one of Gregory Peck’s best-known Westerns.
Gunfighter Jimmy Ringo (Peck), the fastest gun in the west, is tired of
constantly being challenged by foolish men hoping to beat him to the draw. He
visits his estranged wife (Helen Westcott) on the way to what he hopes will be
a new, anonymous life in California, but several men are on his trail and it
seems his quiet life is not to be. Peck is moving as a man who can’t even drink
a cup of coffee without carefully positioning himself with his back against a
wall, demonstrating that commonly accepted Western violence had an unhappy dark
side. The story by William Bowers and Andre de Toth was nominated for the
Oscar.
Injustice Toward Indians
Returning to director Anthony Mann, his third Western
released in 1950 was Devil’s Doorway (1950), one of a couple
very significant films about the treatment of American Indians. The other key
1950 title viewing Indians in a sympathetic light was Broken Arrow (1950),
the first Western directed by Delmer Daves, who would become an important
writer and director in the genre. Daves’ later Westerns included The
Last Wagon (1956) and 3:10 to Yuma (1956).
It’s interesting to note that leading up to 1950, Devil’s
Doorway and Broken Arrow were preceded by
“B” films which expressed greater sympathy toward Native Americans,
such as Tim Holt’s Indian Agent (1948) and Gene Autry’s The
Cowboy and the Indians (1949). With Devil’s Doorway and Broken
Arrow, issues of bigotry and injustice toward Indians moved front and
center in major studio releases with top stars.
In MGM’s Devil’s Doorway, Robert Taylor plays
Broken Lance Poole, who returns to his Wyoming home after serving in the Civil
War. He discovers that his having been awarded a Congressional Medal of Honor
doesn’t impress his neighbors, who have become hostile in his absence and are
using homesteading laws to steal his longtime home. Taylor is superb in a
searing film which is almost hard to watch, as bit by bit an honorable man’s
life is torn asunder for no reason other than his ethnicity. Intriguingly, I’ve
read more than one reference to this film being a forerunner of Martin
Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon (2023).
In 1950 James Stewart followed his work in Universal
Pictures’ Winchester ’73 with 20th Century-Fox’s Broken
Arrow, in which his character tries to broker peace between white
settlers and Apache Indians, only to suffer an enormous personal loss due to
hatred of Apaches; though Stewart’s character is initially less dark than
in Winchester ’73, he again finds himself in the midst of
tragedy. Broken Arrow was nominated for three Oscars,
including screenplay. Director Delmer Daves would return to the subject of
Indians and peace a few years later in Drum Beat (1954) with
Alan Ladd.
Classics From the Master
Director John Ford made two of my all-time favorite films
in 1950, Rio Grande (1950) and Wagon Master (1950).
Rio Grande, the last of Ford’s
Cavalry Trilogy, is a more traditional Western in terms of the clash between
frontier soldiers and Indians; the Indians kidnapping children near the movie’s
climax shows them in a very bad light indeed.
At the same time, the movie has a beautiful theme of
postwar reconciliation, as John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara play a couple
estranged for many years due to events which took place during the Civil War.
It’s a lovely story as they find their way back to one another. The exuberance
and bravery of young cast members Ben Johnson, Harry Carey Jr., and Claude
Jarman Jr. adds to an optimistic picture of Americans settling the West.
Wagon Master, in which Ford cast young
actors Johnson and Carey in the leads as wagon train trail guides, is to my
thinking one of the most beautiful Westerns ever made. Everything about it,
from the casting to the music to the locations, is exquisite, and I love the
film’s naturalistic feel, incorporating unexpected incidents such as a horse
fall and Ward Bond’s pants being ripped by a dog. It’s another ultimately
upbeat film about the courage of pioneers in our nation’s westward expansion.
Other Significant Films of 1950
1950 was also an important year for Audie Murphy, who
became a Western star with the release of three films, including Sierra (1950).
Joel McCrea had a quartet of Westerns in 1950, including the lovely Stars
in My Crown (1950) – which perhaps more fairly might be called a
“frontier settler” film – and one of my personal favorites, Saddle
Tramp (1950). It was also a good year for Randolph Scott, with three
Westerns including The Nevadan (1950) and The Cariboo
Trail (1950). Short Grass (1950) with Rod Cameron was
another favorite Western released in 1950, one of three Cameron Westerns
released that year.
The impact of television on “B” Western
production was still a few years off, and they continued to be released at a
fast pace in 1950, with half a dozen films apiece for stars Tim Holt, Gene
Autry, and Roy Rogers. Rogers’ releases included the fondly recalled Christmas
Western Trail of Robin Hood (1950).
I invite Western RoundUp readers to celebrate the 75th anniversary of all these films by viewing as many of them as possible in the year ahead. Happy New Year!
…
– 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.
As 2024 is drawing to a close, I’m reminded
that a number of iconic silent films are now 100 years old: Sherlock Jr, The Thief of Bagdad, Greed. These
kinds of milestones always spark my curiosity: were these films as popular back
then as they are today? What were the U.S.A.’s top 10 highest-grossing films
from 1924?
Last year I wrote a similar list focusing on 1923, and like last
year I’ll caution that it can be very difficult to figure out silent film box
office numbers. Some films were released in specific regions, some were more
expensive to exhibit than others, and others were rented by exhibitors for a
flat fee and shown multiple times without anyone keeping exact track. Thus,
1920s box office numbers will always be somewhat muddled. So perhaps our list
can start with the “best bets” for inclusion on the list (consider the
following box office numbers “rough estimates”), followed by some possible
contenders.
….
Best
Bets:
Girl Shy – $1.5 million
Not for nothing was Harold Lloyd one of the 1920s’ biggest box office draws! Lloyd plays a bashful young man who can’t bring himself to talk to girls, but nevertheless wants to publish a “how-to” book about winning over the opposite sex. Then, of course, he just happens to cross paths with the lovely Mary Buckingham. This was the first full-length motion picture Lloyd released under his own production company, and it features a number of his own dangerous stunts.
….
Hot Water – $1.35 million
Another winning comedy from Lloyd, this followup to Girl Shy had an episodic structure featuring Lloyd as a family man. The first part focuses on his exploits trying to get a live turkey home after winning it in a raffle, while the next two show him at odds with his in-laws. More of a series of comedy shorts than your typical feature, Hot Water was nevertheless a huge hit.
…..
The Iron Horse –$943,000
John Ford’s romantic tale of the “taming of
the west” recreated the building of the trans-continental railroad. Cast and
crew endured freezing temps and blizzards while filming on location in Nevada.
Described today as “the Grandfather of the Western epic,” it was a major
success for Fox and only cost half as much to make as Paramount’s The Covered Wagon blockbuster from the
year before.
…..
America – $1.75 million
D.W. Griffith’s epic telling of the American Revolution might appear to have been a success, but its budget of nearly a million dollars made it more of a flop. While grand in scale, its earnest tone, jumbled timeline and liberal use of title cards made it seem quaint next to the jazzy comedies and sophisticated dramas that were more in vogue.
…..
The Thief of Bagdad – $1.5 mill
All-American megastar Douglas Fairbanks spared
no expense in making this lavish adaptation of the Arabian Nights, full of lush
costumes and magical special effects. Considered his finest film today, The Thief of Bagdad was a mega hit–and
if you count Canadian box office receipts, it grossed around 3million.
And the #1 champ of the box office in 1924?
That was most likely:
…..
The Sea Hawk – $2 million
Milton Sills is the star of this seafaring
adventure about the baronet Oliver Tressilian who is shanghaied, sold into
slavery, and then escapes to become the pirate leader Sakr-el-Bahr. Director
Frank Lloyd insisted on building full size replicas of 16th century ships. His
battle sequences were so well done that when The Sea Hawk was remade in 1940 several of the 1924 action scenes
were simply spliced into the film.
…..
Possible
Contenders:
Secrets: – $1.5 million?
This touching historical drama, showing an
elderly woman reflecting back on her decades living in the frontier, shows up
in a number of online sources about 1924 hit films. The “1.5 million” statistic
might stem from the unreliable 1937-8
Motion Picture Almanac edited by historian Terry Ramsaye, and the film
itself was treated pretty routinely by 1920s trade magazines. At any rate, it
does feature a masterful performance by Norma Talmadge, one of the era’s
brightest stars.
…..
Feet of Clay – $900,000
Shot on Catalina Island, this Cecil B. DeMille
society drama apparently had a bit of everything–romance, tragedy, scandal, and
touches of light comedy. Ads declared it “had a story so modern it might have
been written an hour ago.” And if its reported box office is any indication, it
must have had something for nearly everyone.
…..
He Who Gets Slapped – $880,000
Audiences marveled at Lon Chaney’s acting
skills and incredible ability to transform himself into freakish characters. He Who Gets Slapped is the sorrowful
drama of a man who loses both his life’s work and his beloved wife, who betrays
him. He begins working in a circus, where he creates a comedic clown act where
he’s repeatedly slapped in the face. It received rave reviews, with some critics
considering it a near-perfect film.
…..
The Navigator – $680,000
Buster Keaton’s brilliant, breezy comedy was
the biggest hit of his silent career. Following the adventures of a rich but
naive young man who ends up adrift on a ship with his former sweetheart, it’s
every bit as funny today as it was 100 years ago.
…..
Peter Pan – $630,000
Lastly, let’s forget one of the finest film versions of this popular tale. Hollywood was buzzing about it long before it entered theaters, and many young actresses vied to be cast as Peter Pan. Betty Bronson was eventually awarded the role, reportedly thanks to J.M. Barrie himself. Beautifully photographed and full of charm and warmth, it was a hit in its time and it’s still an excellent family film today.
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 Quarterly and has also written for The Keaton Chronicle.
I’ve been a fan of The Postman Always Rings Twice
(1946) for as long as I can remember – it was one of the first noirs I ever saw
as a child. (I recall that I didn’t initially understand what the title meant –
and how thrilled I was when I finally figured it out.) But when I think of it,
the first, and often only, character who comes to mind is Cora Smith, played by
the luminous Lana Turner. In the spirit of turnabout being fair play, I’m
devoting this month’s Noir Nook to John Garfield’s Frank Chambers and five
reasons why he deserves some love.
John Garfield, The Postman Always Rings Twice
That breath that Frank visibly intakes when he sees Cora for the first time. Until that moment, he’d come off like kind of a hard-shelled guy. Somebody who was completely comfortable in his skin and with his lifestyle, who didn’t take any guff, and who was up for any adventure, challenge, or obstacle. And then he gets a load of Cora and, for a couple of seconds, he’s just a blushing, thunderstruck schoolboy in the presence of the school’s most popular girl. (I like that in a man.)
Frank’s cocky side. Once he gets over his initial reaction to Cora (and, really, it takes literal seconds), we see his penchant for smartassery. First, after picking up Cora’s dropped lipstick from the floor, Frank cheekily ignores her outstretched hand and makes her cross the room to retrieve it. And in the next scene, while Cora tries to get his goat by spitting out orders and threatening to fire him, Frank sits with his feet propped on a table, reading the newspaper, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, matching her malice with nonchalant impertinence.
Frank’s ability to think fast on his feet. There was the scene where he convinced Nick (Cecil Kellaway) to replace his old diner sign with a new neon version, and then casually ensured that Nick thought it was his own idea. And when the District Attorney came snooping around after Nick’s “accident” in the bathtub, Frank quickly came up with a plausible reason for the ladder being propped against the house, using the sight of the dead cat to bolster his explanation. And, later when Kennedy (Alan Reed) showed up with blackmail on his mind, Frank quickly assessed the situation and decided on the best course of action – beating Kennedy to a pulp.
John Garfield, Lana Turner, Alan Reed
Frank’s skill in serving up the Kennedy
beatdown. I just love the way he carried it out – with a combination of punching
proficiency, cucumber-cool, and absolute control of the situation. He broke a
sweat, but he rarely raised his voice, and he was completely fearless, like he
dealt with this kind of situation every day of the week. (And that final,
unexpected jab, delivered so that Kennedy would “act right” when his partner
arrived, was the cherry on top of the sundae.)
Frank’s love for Cora. Frank was clearly
attracted by Cora’s long legs, shapely figure, and stunning face, but his
feelings were more than surface lust; it was obvious that he truly loved her.
If we weren’t sure, he proved it – like he proved it to Cora – by helping her
back to shore after that last late-night swim. And it also showed in his jail
cell conversation with the priest at the film’s end: “Father, would you send up
a prayer for me and Cora?” he plaintively requests. “And if you can find it in
your heart, make it that we’re together, wherever it is.”
So, if you can find it your heart, the next time you watch The Postman Always Rings Twice, give a little extra attention to Frank Chambers. He deserves it!
…
– 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:
Joe Dante’s Passion for Classic B-Movies is a Gift for Film Buffs
In Piranha, thousands of tiny fish – already known for their carnivorous appetites – go bonkers for human flesh after being genetically modified by the government. Among the film’s stars are Barbara Steele, Kevin McCarthy,Bradford Dillman and Dick Miller.
Matinee has a William Castle-type of showman hawking his latest film, Mant!, about a half-man, half-ant beast. Look for McCarthy, Miller and Robert O. Cornthwaite.
And the cute little creatures in Gremlinscome with the warning that you must never, ever feed them after midnight – or else.
Welcome to the sci-fi and horror B-movies of the 1950s – in spirit, that is, since Piranha was released in 1978, Gremlins in 1984 and Matinee in 1993. All are from talented filmmaker Joe Dante, whose more than 40-year career has the soul of classic sci-fi and horror, the very movies he watched as a kid.
“Those movies made us believe a tarantula was coming down the street,” Dante said, referencing the 1955 film “Tarantula” during one of his multiple appearances on the recent Turner Classic Movies Classic Cruise. On the cruise, he introduced a few of his films and sat for two insightful hour-long interviews with TCM hosts treating audiences to behind-the-scenes stories about his work, his lifelong passion for movies and his “film schooling” under Roger Corman.
Director Joe Dante, left, often had Turner Classic Movie host Ben Mankiewicz and the audience laughing during his entertaining conversations on the TCM Classic Cruise in October 2024. (Photo courtesy of Turner Classic Movies)
But what really
stuck with me was how his career was undeniably linked to those 1950s creature
films he watched as a kid, and how one of his films, above all, is the “closest
movie to me” – Matinee.
“I am the kid in
the movie,” he says about the movie-loving teen at the heart of Matinee.
“It’s very personal to me. It’s a movie about why I love movies.”
Originally about a haunted movie theater, Matinee morphed into a story about a film huckster (robustly played by John Goodman) that was set during the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962 – a very scary time for Dante as a teen.
“That was the
weekend we didn’t know if we were going back to school,” Dante said. “The
weekend we feared the world was going to end.”
Joe Dante’s love of 1950s B-movies can be seen in Mant!, the movie-within-a-movie in Dante’s 1993 film Matinee. That’s Cathy Moriarty with the title creature.
Dante wanted the
film to be a scrupulous re-creation of 1962 and that meant everything in the
film had to look like it was state-of-the-art in 1962, not 1993 when Matinee
was made. Nowhere is that more apparent than in the nostalgic and entertaining
movie-within-a-movie, Mant!
“It was a tribute to all ‘50s sci-fi movies I saw as a kid,” Dante said about Mant! “And I saw a lot as a kid at the Saturday matinees.”
How many? Well, if you wanted to know where Joe Dante was as a kid, he said, you would be told “Dante’s at the movies.”
“It was my church. When
the lights go down, you don’t know what you will see, but it will change your
life,” he said.
Initially, Dante went to matinees to watch the cartoons – he had dreams of being a cartoonist – and didn’t like the movies that were being shown afterward. But it took only one film to change his mind.
“One day I stayed to see It Came from Outer Space – and thought ‘hmm, these movies with grown-ups can be pretty good,’ ” he shared.
“I became enamored
with movies. I never thought I would make them,” Dante added. “But I did find
making movies was what I was supposed to do.”
We can thank Roger
Corman for helping him along the way.
The Corman effect
“If Roger Corman
hadn’t hired me, I would not be sitting here and wouldn’t have a career – and I
wasn’t the only one,” Dante said on the TCM Cruise, referring to the many filmmakers
who learned the ropes by working with Corman including Martin Scorsese, Peter
Bogdanovich, Ron Howard and James Cameron.
Corman had a talent
for finding people who “really, really wanted to make movies and they were
gonna make the best ‘Woman in Cages’ movie,” Dante laughed, referencing a
string of women behind bars films made by Corman’s New World Pictures.
“The great thing
about Roger Corman is that he would hire people with no experience in the movie
business,” Dante said. “He didn’t like to pay a lot of money. He would get
these kids and pay them nothing and I was one of those kids.”
Dante got his start creating trailers along with his friend Allan Arkush for Corman. The two made their first film when Corman took on a bet to make the cheapest film ever for New World Pictures. The film – and winner of the bet – was Hollywood Boulevard, co-directed by Dante and Arkush in 10 days for about $50,000. They used footage from previous Corman movies in their film about a B-movie studio called Miracle Pictures where “if it’s a good picture, it a miracle.” That economy was the cornerstone of Corman films.
“There are many
obstacles to making a Roger Corman film,” Dante said. “And no matter what he
would throw at you, you would find a way around it. And all of the things you
learned working with Roger were things you would use working with people who
had money, but none of them knew as much about films as Roger.”
When asked what
Corman taught him, Dante quickly said “to make decisions.”
Bradford Dillman, left, and Kevin McCarthy face carnivorous fish in Joe Dante’s Piranha.
Piranha, Jaws and Spielberg
Two years after his
co-directing work on Hollywood Boulevard, Dante made his solo
directorial debut with Piranha, which he laughingly – but affectionately
– called “another $1.98 special.”
It was also, he told
the TCM audience, a film that would not have been released except for the help
of another young filmmaker, Steven Spielberg.
Universal Studios was preparing to release Jaws 2, the sequel to Spielberg’s 1975 blockbuster Jaws, and as happens in Hollywood, the copycats had been coming fast. To protect the box office for Jaws 2, Universal was doing what it could to block competition and that would include Piranha.
Universal was “was
very, very unhappy to have an upstart Jaws” rip-off at the same time Jaws
2 was being released, Dante said.
In an early scene in Piranha, Heather Menzies plays a Jaws video game. Joe Dante said it was a way to acknowledge his film’s ties to Jaws.
Luckily for Dante, as
he later learned, Spielberg stepped in. “He said ‘you guys don’t get it – it’s
a spoof not a rip-off.’ … Well of course
it was a rip-off,” Dante laughed to the delight of the audience.
And Dante knew that
while he was making Piranha. “We had a character play a Jaws game
just to say, ‘we know it’s a Jaws rip-off,’ ” Dante said.
What set it apart
from the other Jaws rip-offs was the writing.
“The secret is to
have a great writer,” Dante said. “The characters are good, and the movie was
much better than the Jaws rip-off it was intended to be.”
More from Joe Dante
I have notebooks filled with what Dante shared during the TCM Classic Cruise and, as a classic horror fan, I couldn’t get enough. His stories were entertaining, funny, sometimes bittersweet and always genuine.
My story was how the karo syrup used for blood in Piranha created a fungus – a new life, environmental experts told the filmmakers – that had to be exterminated. Dante seemed proud as he shared that tale and I thought it would make a perfect plot for one of films.
Here are just a few
more.
Filmmaker Joe Dante is a champion of Turner Classic Movies, calling the network “a gem” on the recent TCM Classic Cruise. (Photo courtesy of Turner Classic Movies.)
On his early
days making movie trailers for Roger Corman: “I made it my crusade that if
I knew a scene was being cut out of a film, I would put it in [the trailer] for
posterity.”
Watching a movie
in theaters: “What a communal joy it is to experience that kind of
entertainment. It’s why we’re still here, why we still do this. We just love
seeing movies and seeing movies with an audience is the cream of the crop.”
On Targets, the directorial debut of Peter Bogdanovich: “It is one of the best first movies by a director.”
On Turner Classic Movies: “The gift that has been given to us by TCM …. The one place you know you can see a movie the way it’s supposed to look is TCM. It’s such a gem and people need to appreciate it.”
On the movie
theater scene when the film broke in Gremlins: “Projectionists hated
me. If you didn’t tell them right away, they thought the film really broke.”
On Gremlins:
“Warner Brothers didn’t like the project but OK’d it because he (Steven
Spielberg) wanted to do it. The script was very violent; at its heart, it was a
horror movie.
On his Trailers from Hell web series: “It’s always rewarding to me when people say I saw a trailer on your site and it led me to watch the movie and now I’m a big fan of the director. I feel like I’m giving back.”
A lobby card for Attack of the Crab Monsters shows Leslie Bradley, left, Richard Garland, Pamela Duncan and Russell Johnson.
Dante approved films
Dante has often talked about his favorite classic horror films. Here are 10:
Macabre(1958). Showman William Castle – an inspiration in Dante’s Matinee – gave moviegoers a $10,000 insurance policy in case they died while watching his film.
Die, Monster, Die!(1965). Karloff stars in loose adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft story.
This Island Earth(1955). Jack Arnold had a hand in co-directing this tale of atomic scientists unwittingly brought together to help visitors from another planet.
The Return of the Vampire (1943). Bela Lugosi stars as a vampire not named Dracula in film from Columbia Pictures.
Target Earth(1954). Richard Denning is one of a small group of survivors in a deserted city during an alien robot invasion.
Tarantula(1955). Jack Arnold directs one of the great B-movies about a giant tarantula terrorizing a desert town.
Toni Ruberto, born and raised in Buffalo, N.Y., is an editor and writer at The Buffalo News. She shares her love for classic movies in her blog, Watching Forever and is a member and board chair of the Classic Movie Blog Association. Toni was the president of the former Buffalo chapter of TCM Backlot and led the offshoot group, Buffalo Classic Movie Buffs. She is proud to have put Buffalo and its glorious old movie palaces in the spotlight as the inaugural winner of the TCM in Your Hometown contest. You can find Toni on Twitter at @toniruberto and on Bluesky at @Watchingforever.bsky.social.
While I’ve never had any interest in diamonds, I do
enjoy watching Marilyn Monroe sing about them in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes
(1953), the Technicolor film adaptation of the 1949 stage musical based on
Anita Loos’ flapper era novel. Monroe’s big number, “Diamonds are a Girl’s Best
Friend,” is a truly iconic moment in film history that has been copied,
referenced, and parodied countless times (including, most recently, in Ryan
Gosling’s show-stopping performance of “I’m Just Ken” at the 2024 Academy
Awards ceremony). While the film’s ultimate message leaves a lot of room for
debate, Monroe’s charisma as material girl Lorelei Lee is undeniable, while
Jane Russell handily debunks the title’s claim with her appealing performance
as Lorelei’s brunette bestie.
Marilyn Monroe creates an iconic movie moment with her performance of “Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend.”
Monroe and Russell play showgirls Lorelei and Dorothy,
who look out for each other above all as various men enter their lives. On the
verge of landing meek millionaire Gus Esmond (Tommy Noonan) over the objections
of his father, Lorelei embarks on a transatlantic cruise to Paris with Dorothy
as chaperone, but temptation appears in the form of smitten diamond mine mogul
Sir Francis Beekman (Charles Coburn). Lorelei tries to match Dorothy with a
millionaire of her own, but Dorothy feels more attracted to Ernie Malone
(Elliott Reid), not knowing that Ernie is really a private detective hired by
Esmond’s father to spy on Lorelei.
Lorelei’s charms have thoroughly conquered millionaire Gus (Tommy Noonan), but his father hopes to break up the match.
1953 was a big year for Monroe, which also saw her
starring in the color noir Niagara and How to Marry a Millionaire,
but Gentlemen Prefer Blondes gives her the most screen time and
opportunity to demonstrate her skills as a musical performer. Her particular
version of the comedic “dumb blonde” character is so persuasive that it obscures
the talent such a role requires, but Lorelei isn’t as dumb as everyone assumes.
While Dorothy might be considered the smart one of the pair, Lorelei has a much
better understanding of her value as a desirable commodity in a patriarchal
society where men control access to wealth. Her speech to Gus’s father at the
end of the movie points out that men don’t value intelligence in women, and
therefore Lorelei finds it prudent to hide hers from suitors who only care
about her looks. She might not know what to do with a tiara, but Lorelei
recognizes a double standard when she sees one, as she rightly observes that
men blame women for wanting rich husbands even as they forbid their own
daughters from taking poor ones. The gold digger is another classic feminine
stereotype, going at least as far back as Becky Sharp in Vanity Fair,
but Monroe invests hers with wide-eyed sweetness that never seems artificial. Like
the plucky gals in the Gold Diggers movies of the 1930s, Lorelei has
developed her mercenary marital views as a practical strategy for survival.
That’s not to say that Anita Loos intended Lorelei to be read as a heroine or
that the movie, with its emphasis on marriage as a woman’s only life goal,
really works as a coherent critique of patriarchy. Both women, after all, end
the picture at the altar and presumably give up their stage careers for
domestic life. Monroe, however, makes us like and root for Lorelei even when
her behavior is most questionable, and the women’s unwavering loyalty to one
another reminds us that their friendship always comes first.
Dorothy (Jane Russell) and Lorelei (Marilyn Monroe) are always loyal to one another, and their friendship is more interesting than any of their romances.
Of course, the film boasts considerable star power in
addition to Monroe, with Jane Russell taking top billing and commanding plenty
of screen time for herself. Her performance of “Ain’t There Anyone Here for
Love” is particularly robust, and her impersonation of Lorelei in the courtroom
scene is a hoot. Russell’s Dorothy, who is streetwise but still an idealist
about romance, is a perfect foil to Monroe’s Lorelei, and we like Dorothy even
more for making it clear to Ernie that he will only win her love by respecting
her devotion to her friend. Everyone else takes a backseat to the pair of
leading ladies, but Tommy Noonan and Elliott Reid are fun as their most ardent
admirers, while little George Winslow always cracks me up as Henry Spofford
III. Charles Coburn makes for an amusing old heel as “Piggy” Beekman, waggish scamps
of advanced years being something of a character specialty for him. Behind the
camera, director Howard Hawks keeps the action moving with help from Charles
Lederer’s energetic screenplay and Jack Cole’s choreography.
Dorothy’s impersonation of Lorelei in a Parisian courtroom is one of the picture’s comedy highlights.
The box office success of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes spawned a 1955 sequel called Gentlemen Marry Brunettes, which also adapts an Anita Loos story and stars Jane Russell, but it’s not nearly as celebrated. Russell is better remembered today for her roles in The Outlaw (1943) and His Kind of Woman (1951), but Monroe’s enduring fame towers over that of her costar. For more of Charles Coburn’s old rogues, see The Lady Eve (1941), The More the Merrier (1943), and Heaven Can Wait (1943). You can also see Monroe, Coburn, and George Winslow in Howard Hawks’ Monkey Business (1952). Tommy Noonan and Coburn both feature in How to Be Very, Very Popular (1955), which was intended as the next project for Monroe but ended up starring Betty Grable with Sheree North in Monroe’s role after Monroe refused to do the picture.
Frances “Fanny” Rose Shore was born on February 29, 1916, to
Anna and Solomon Shore in Winchester, Tennessee. She had a sister, Elizabeth,
who was eight years older. When Fanny was eighteen months old, she suffered
from polio. After extensive care, an exercise program, and therapeutic
massages, Fanny recovered but coped with a deformed foot and limp.
Fanny enjoyed singing from an early age. Anna, a contralto
who dreamed of working in the opera, encouraged her to sing. Solomon often
brought Fanny along to his store, where she performed for customers.
By 1924, the family relocated to McMinnville, Tennessee,
where Solomon opened a department store. During Fanny’s fifth-grade year, the
family moved to Nashville, Tennessee, where Fanny completed her elementary
education. She participated in sports and was a cheerleader at Hume-Fogg High
School. While attending Hume-Fogg High School, she also participated in music
club and theatrical productions.
When Fanny turned 16, her mother passed away from a heart
attack. Fanny continued her education at Vanderbilt University and graduated in
1938 with a sociology degree. She soon made her radio debut on WSM, a Nashville
radio station.
Fanny decided to pursue her interest in singing and moved to
New York City, where she auditioned for various orchestras and radio stations.
Initially, she traveled there while she was on summer break from Vanderbilt. By
the time she graduated, she intended to live in New York permanently. As part
of her audition repertoire, she performed the song “Dinah.” When Martin Block,
a disk jockey, could not recall her name, he instead introduced her as “The
Dinah Girl.” They name soon became her stage name: Dinah Shore.
Shore was hired on as a vocalist for the WNEW radio station,
singing alongside Frank Sinatra. In addition, she performed with the Xavier
Cugat Orchestra and signed a recording contract with RCA Victor Records.
In 1939, Shore debuted on national radio for CBS Radio’s Ben Bernie’s Orchestra radio program.
During the following year, she was a featured vocalist on NBC Radio, performing
Dixieland and blues songs. The Chamber
Music Society of Lower Basin Street program on which she was performing
became so popular that it was moved to a primetime slot.
Her popularity soon caught Eddie Cantor’s attention and he
signed her as a regular performer on his Time
to Smile radio program. In 1943, she appeared in her first film, Thank Your Lucky Stars (1943), starring
Cantor. Shore went on to the Paul
Whiteman Presents radio program.
Shore married actor George Montgomery in 1943. They had a
daughter named Melissa Montgomery in 1948, who became an actress. The couple
adopted a son, John Montgomery. Shore and Montgomery divorced in 1962.
Shore transitioned to other radio shows and record labels
throughout this period. Her largest commercial success of her recording career
was “Shoo-Fly Pie and Apple Pan Dowdy” for Columbia. She also started her own
radio show, Call for Music, for CBS
and, later, NBC.
Shore appeared in additional films including Up in Arms (1944), Belle of the Yukon (1944), and Till
the Clouds Roll By (1946). She also provided vocals for two Disney films: Make Mine Music (1946) and Fun and Fancy Free (1947). Her final
starring film role was in Aaron Slik from
Punkin Crick (1952).
In the 1950s, Shore returned to recording with RCA Victor.
BY 1959, she transitioned to Capitol Records until she was dropped by them in
1962.
After numerous radio guest spots over the years, she made
her commercial television show debut on The
Ed Wynn Show in 1949. In 1951, she was the star of her own television show,
The Dinah Shore Show. In 1956, she
hosted one hour-long, full-color productions of The Chevy Show, which was renamed The Dinah Shore Chevy Show. Shore appeared in 125 hour-long
programs across the show’s 12-season run from 1951 through 1963.
In 1963, Shore married tennis player Maurice F. Smith. They
divorced the following year.
In the 1970s, Shore hosed two daytime programs: Dinah’s Place and Dinah! (renamed Dinah and
Friends). During this period, Shore had a six-year romance with actor Burt
Reynolds.
Off-screen, Shore enjoyed playing golf and supported women’s
professional golf steadfastly. She helped found the Colgate Dinah Shore Golf
Tournament in 1972, which is now the Chevron Championship and one of the major
golf tournaments of the LPGA Tour. The tournament was held annually at the
Mission Hills Country Club near Shore’s former Rancho Mirage, California, home
until 2022. The event moved to Texas the following year because of a new
sponsor. Nonetheless, Mission Hills retains the Dinah Shore Course, which now
hosts the Galleri Classic tournament. Shore was posthumously elected an
honorary member of the LPGA Hall of Fame in 1994 due to her contributions to
golf and also became a member of the World Golf Hall of Fame in 1998.
In 1993, Shore was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and passed
away from the illness in her Beverly Hills, California, home on February 24,
1994. Her remains were cremated and divided among niches at Hillside Memorial
Park Cemetery in Culver City, California, and Forest Lawn Cemetery—Cathedral
City in Cathedral City, California. Additional ashes went to her relatives.
Today, there are numerous tributes to Shore, particularly in
the Palm Springs area.
In 1920, Shore and her family resided at 8 9th
Ave., Winchester, Tennessee. In 1930, they lived at 3106 33rd Ave.
S., Nashville, Tennessee. These homes have since been razed.
Hume-Fogg High School stands at 700 Broadway, Nashville,
Tennessee.
Hume-Fogg High School, Nashville TN
Both Cathedral City, California, and Rancho Mirage,
California, have streets named after her.
Shore’s hometown, Winchester, Tennessee, also has a Dinah
Shore Boulevard.
In 1940, Shore lived at 111 Britton Ave., Queens, New York,
which no longer stands.
In 1960, Shore lived at 400 Drury Ln., Beverly Hills,
California. This home remains.
400 Drury Ln., Beverly Hills, CA
In 1964, Shore maintained an estate at 432 Hermosa Pl., Palm
Springs, California, which stands.
432 Hermosa Pl., Palm Springs, CA
In 1996, Shore received a Golden Palm Star on the Palm
Springs Walk of Stars.
Shore has three stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame,
honoring her work in radio, recording, and television. Her stars are located at
1751 Vine St., 6901 Hollywood Blvd., and 6916 Hollywood Blvd., Los Angeles,
California, respectively.
Mission Hills Country Club is a private country club located
at 34600 Mission Hills Dr., Rancho Mirage, California. The clubhouse has the
Dinah Shore Board Room, spotlighting information about Shore’s life and career.
On the course, the Dinah Shore Wall of Champions contains a tribute to Shore
with a sculpted golf club protruding from a depiction of Shore. Additionally,
there is a statue of Shore on the course, sculpted by George Montgomery.
Dinah Shore statue, sculpted by George Montgomery
Shore’s ashes are interred at Hillside Memorial Park, located at 6001 W. Centinela Ave., Los Angeles, California. Her ashes are also interred at Forest Lawn Cemetery—Cathedral City, located at 69855 Ramon Rd., Cathedral City, California.
Annette Bochenek, Ph.D., is a film historian, professor, and avid scholar of Hollywood’s Golden Age. She manages the “Hometowns to Hollywood” blog, in which she profiles her trips to the hometowns of classic Hollywood stars. She has also been featured on the popular classic film-oriented television network, Turner Classic Movies. A regular columnist for Classic Movie Hub, her articles have appeared in TCM Backlot, Silent Film Quarterly, Nostalgia Digest, The Dark Pages Film Noir Newsletter, and Chicago Art Deco Society Magazine.
