Showing posts with label Ida Lupino. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ida Lupino. Show all posts

Friday, February 18, 2022

TinselTales: Hair-Raising Gossip!

I think by now, most of us are familiar with the epic screamfest Valley of the Dolls (1967), the gloriously garish film presentation of Jacqueline Susann's runaway best-seller of the same name.  Brimming over with late-'60s clothing, hairstyles and makeup and filled with quotable dialogue, it's the pinnacle of tasteful tastelessness, coming as it did just when the standards for what could be said and shown on-screen were loosening considerably, yet studio pictures (such as this one's 20th Century Fox) still sought a degree of restraint in their product.  During one particularly howling moment, Patty Duke (as the vitriolic singing actress Neely O'Hara) comes home stumbling and drunk to find her husband naked in their pool with another woman.

Unable to locate her hubby upon arriving home late at night, she hears suspicious sounds while grabbing yet another drink.
Having already been aware that her husband had been gay before their marriage, Duke is particularly perturbed to find that he's cheating on her with another woman!
During her tirade against the gal who's been caught skinny-dipping with her spouse, Duke empties a bottle of booze into the water to "disinfect" it.
When she confronts her husband (Alexander Davion), he explains that his little plaything makes him feel "ten feet tall."
 

I've loved this movie from the first moment I ever laid eyes on it (sometime in the late-1980s) and also enjoyed reading the source novel. Recently, as part of a Christmas present (derived from Amazon gift cards), I received and read the book Dolls! Dolls! Dolls! by Stephen Rebello. If you don't know, Rebello was once half of "The Hollywood Kids," gossip mavens of Movieline magazine (basically the best film-oriented magazine ever to have been published as far as I'm concerned!) He and his late writing partner Edward Margulies interviewed celebs who were often past their "best if sold by" date and would run saucy blind items in their column. They also had a regular feature called "Bad Movies We Love" which led to the compilation book of the same name, my own cultural Bible... Rebello had done a very well-received book on Psycho (1960) in 1990 before penning this highly in-depth examination of Dolls. (The Contents page shown above-right from Movieline depicts The Opposite Sex, 1956, as that month's "Bad Movie We Love" and Mamie Van Doren as the Q&A subject, along with a feature interview by Rebello with then-hot Sharon Stone.)

Anyway, the scenario involving Duke walking in on her cheating husband was hardly a novel concept (in fiction or in life!), but in Dolls! Dolls! Dolls!, Rebello made a suggestion as to what inspired Susann to include that interlude in her novel. Nestled in the fact-heavy tome of his was this gossipy nugget:
"Kingsley" refers to one of the scriptwriters assigned to adapting the novel for the screen. Rebello quotes his close associate Margulies for this tinsel-tale, which I must say I had never heard before (nor could I locate any reference to it anyplace else!) But it was so startling I just had to examine it a little bit further.

Ida Lupino was a noted actress, born in London to a family long-immersed in show business. She had no longing to be a performer herself, preferring writing, but was pressured into it as a result of her family legacy. Nevertheless, she excelled and was playing juicy supporting roles on stage and screen while still in her mid-teens! Initially working in England, she ultimately wound up in Hollywood in 1933 and was presented in Search for Beauty (1934) as one of many young people who exemplified physical excellence. Her hair bleached platinum and her eyebrows tweezed nearly away, she scarcely resembled the woman we'd later come to know.

Her costar in Search for Beauty was the deliriously handsome Buster Crabbe, who later became known for his serials as Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers.

As far as I'm concerned, the search for beauty definitely came to its conclusion when the cameras landed on Mr. Crabbe...!

You'll forgive this brief diversion from the topic at hand, I'm sure?

Eventually reverting to a more believable hair color and allowing her brows to come back in, Lupino emerged in the 1940s (following a breakthrough in 1939's The Light That Failed) as a popular and dependable leading lady in many key films, many of which have only grown in appreciation over the years. They include: They Drive by Night (1940), High Sierra (1941), The Hard Way (1943), Devotion (1946) and Road House (1948.) Slim and pretty, Lupino had a lifelong disdain for her looks, never finding herself beautiful, though movie cameras sometimes proved otherwise. She had particularly lovely eyes, which reflected light in a striking way on screen.

Lupino had been married to actor Louis Hayward from 1938-1945 and to writer Collier Young from 1948-1951, but she left him for Howard Duff. She was actually pregnant with Duff's child when they wed in 1951 and their only child, Bridget, was born the following year. She and Duff had met during the filming of 1950's Woman in Hiding.

From the outside looking in, The Duffs were happy as clams. They made four more movies together in the 1950s, worked on TV in the same shows and dove into the movie magazine publicity machine with gusto.

They even starred in a TV sitcom of their own called Mr. Adams and Eve, a series created and produced by her ex-husband Young using (and exaggerating) events from her current marriage into comic showbiz fodder. It ran for two seasons.

Their off-screen life was quite tumultuous, however. (Scene above is from their collaboration with humpy Steve Cochran, Private Hell 36, 1954.) There were disagreements, blowups, separations... These were followed by periods of happy reconciliation. Lupino was known to have a stubborn streak and Duff was rough & ready with his fists, occasionally indulging in physical altercations over this and that. But did he really ever step out on her with a man??

Forlornly handsome Duff parlayed his service in the US Army Air Corp as a radio broadcaster into a post-war gig on the radio with "The Adventures of Sam Spade." His rich voice was familiar to many a listener from 1946-1950. (He also pursued work in movies from 1947 on. His debut in Brute Force, 1947, billed him as "Radio's Sam Spade" Howard Duff.)

Duff had long been known as a real ladies man and was very fond of puss - no, I won't say it! Ha ha!! But nonetheless he was crawling in it during his early days as a radio and motion picture actor.

One of his most publicized romances early on was with feisty Ava Gardner. The two had a roller-coaster relationship (as did most anyone when it came to her!) Many years later, these two reunited on Knots Landing as the parents of William Devane's character!

Thanks to their affair and the resultant pregnancy, there wasn't a lot of choice at that time when it came to marrying Lupino. But regardless of anything else, there was genuine feeling between them. They clearly enjoyed one another's company. Still, speculation has also been raised that his marrying an established and much-liked star such as Lupino helped him avoid being blacklisted during the McCarthy witch hunt. You see, Duff had been named in the infamous publication Red Channels as a possible Communist. And Universal did not renew his contract when it expired. But what about this Leif Erickson thing?

6'3" Leif Erickson was a US Navy combat photographer who was shot down twice during WWII and earned Purple Hearts in the process. Working as a cowboy in some Zane Grey serials, he was married to the highly unstable Frances Farmer from 1936-1942, followed by a month-long union with actress Margaret Hayes. In 1945, he wed for a final time, which lasted until his death in 1986.

He and Duff did know one another, working together in 1949's Johnny Stool Pigeon. That's Erickson standing near the coffin, with Duff at crotch level. (You know I had to choose this pic for this post!) Could they really have become fond enough of one another to later be discovered canoodling by a distraught Miss Lupino...??

Erickson enjoyed a long career in movies and also on stage (he originated the role of the overcompensatingly masculine coach in Broadway's Tea and Sympathy, repeating the part in the watered down film version.) He also popped up in fun flicks like Strait-Jacket (1964), The Carpetbaggers (1964) and I Saw What You Did (1965) among many others. He's probably best-known, though, for his leading role on the TV western The High Chaparral, seen here with costar Cameron Mitchell. We've already taken note of his eye-popping "gun" elsewhere in Poseidon's Underworld.

You can see for yourself from the pics of Lupino and Duff that she took to wearing (sometimes okay, sometimes horrible) wigs during the course of their marriage. She had suffered a bout of polio upon her arrival in Hollywood (allegedly attributed to contaminated swimming pools!! Scotch anyone?!) But was that why her hair fell out later? Or was it delayed effects from all that early bleaching? Or is there something to this lascivious rumor?

On paper, The Duff's marriage lasted till 1984, but it really ended in 1966. Even separated, they continued to work together occasionally, such as in this 1968 appearance on Batman as Dr. Cassandra and her husband Cabala, who are able to turn invisible and commit robberies.

Duff was always in demand for television (and was a far greater actor than ever given credit.) He starred on The Felony Squad, did some fine work on Police Story and had a moment of glory as the slimy villain Titus Semple on the short-lived Flamingo Road (seen here with Mark Harmon and Christina Raines.) He died of a heart attack in 1990 at the age of 76, not long after doing The Golden Girls (as the subject of one of Sophia's jinxes.)

Lupino also acted often, but usually to pay the bills and to allow her the leeway to write and direct. She was an accomplished director of tight melodramas with touchy themes like bigamy and rape. Her body of work as a director has been cherished by many film fans and critics and is considered progressive for the time. Those who worked for her were generally highly appreciative of her insight and guidance. She exited the screen by 1979 and her final years were punctuated by alcohol abuse and ill health. She died in 1995 of colon cancer at age 77.

I haven't solved anything about this rumor, only examined it a bit as I said I would. It says a lot about "the telephone game" of gossip in general; how the story gets distorted slightly with each telling. I.E. - was the alleged act on a pool table or in a pool?! But perhaps Susann had heard about it and placed a similar scenario in her roman à clef best-seller. (Though I am aware of another rumor in which a young starlet discovered her dreamboat husband getting it on with his butler, leading to divorce! So the Duff-Erickson tale is hardly the only example that was out there.)

It's surely nothing but coincidence, too, that in Valley of the Dolls, Susan Hayward's wig is similar to the sort that Lupino wore. There were only so many popular styles available. Remember Eva Gabor coming out with a dazzling line of them?!

If Lupino didn't inspire the swimming pool adultery sequence, maybe she helped give Susann the idea to have Helen Lawson hiding (in the book, at least) a nearly bald head under her wigs. Eventually, Miss Lupino had almost no real hair at all, poor thing.

And that's about all I can add about this subject before I flush it along...!

Till next time, dah-links!

Wednesday, June 20, 2018

Ready to Earn Your "Letters?"

Fix it, Jesus...! I'm still caught in the TV Movie Time Tunnel. The truth is, my life is crazy (as always) and I can do these posts completely from work, thanks to youtube and photo programs on my computer. But nevertheless, this one - The Letters (1973) - is an awesome entry that I highly recommend. Nearly ALL of the old movies of the week go down like buttah because they are only about 72 minutes long without commercials (being filmed for a 90-minute spot versus the obligatory 2-hour movies that were to follow, often annoyingly padded to fill out the running time.) P.S.-Don't touch that dial before the post is over because there's a fun Designer Douple-Dip at the tail end!

The Letters was a TV series pilot that didn't sell. (Oddly enough, Aaron Spelling produced two movie-length pilots - the other being the second Letters From Three Lovers, which aired later that year! The concept just didn't catch on despite a promising premise.) In it, US postman Henry Jones introduces three different stories (a series would have had two) involving letters that were delayed from delivery for one year, with personal consequences being the result in most instances.

Up first, we see a suburban couple heading out to the station wagon, loading luggage into the back.

The man turns out to be John Forsythe (later the voice of Charlie on Charlie's Angels and the star of Dynasty, both Spelling productions.) He's about to head off to Mexico for a business trip.

The wife is Miss Jane Powell! My pea brain had so much trouble picturing these two in the same universe as I always thing of her as a 1940s and early-'50s movie star while he is more of a late-'50s and 1960s personality to me, yet he is indeed ten years her senior.

Anyway, they have a poignant farewell at the airport as he readies himself to fly off on another trip. She is particularly emotional about it for some reason, perhaps sensing some tension or dissatisfaction in their relationship despite having two young children together.

Turns out there is some good reason...! He sidles in next to another passenger, the almost thirty years younger Lesley Ann Warren and they immediately clasp hands! Cinderella is all grown up now and has landed herself a successful businessman...

They enjoy one of those oh-so-'70s romantic montages full of bike-riding, horseback and seaside sunsets. (Didn't anyone just go to Mexico and create a two-headed monster in their hotel room?? LOL) Despite their bliss, Warren is miffed that he didn't tell his wife about them, but he promises to in a letter.

Sadly, he comes down with what appears to be a killer case of Monte- zuma's Revenge and cannot take her to dinner with another couple as they'd planned. This being the nearly always staid Forsythe, he wears dress slacks under his goldenrod robe even as he is presumably heading into the bathroom every few minutes!

Next day on the beach, the "happy" couple is situated in rather circus-like cabana with Forsythe in the same robe (...) and Warren becoming bothered by some roughnecking children who've kicked a ball into their space.

Forsythe, who has two snot-nosed brats already, isn't particularly bothered by it, but Warren is a bit ticked, especially when the point is raised that he already has his children and she has none yet, nor does he seem interested in more.

Later on, they have another (or perhaps the same) disagree- ment and he has informed her that they are basically through already... She accuses him of never having truly planned to leave Powell and of never having even written the "Dear Jane" letter. He whips it out (the letter) to prove that he had.

As he goes to slip it into his suit jacket pocket, he misses and the letter hit the (fugly) carpet unnoticed instead.

She, as Ms. Warren often was in her many 1970s miniseries, is overcome and overwrought by his lack of willingness to continue their relationship. After he walks out on her, she signs for the dinner they were to have together, then spots the letter and, even knowing that he's headed back to Powell, mails it! (Warren had worked for Spelling in the prior telefilms Love Hate Love (1971) and The Daughters of Joshua Cabe (1972) and would appear in other TV projects of his in the '70s.)

Cut to... the second story. We see a concert pianist tinkling the ivories before a small crowd.

The performer turns out to be Leslie Nielsen, a talented, but career-frustrated, artist who longs to be put on tour. (He's a prematurely gray forty-four at this point! What's he been doing all this time?)

He has an ardent fan in Miss Dina Merrill, who is clearly besotted with him. (Merrill had worked in a few Spelling TV shows as a guest and would later pop up on The Love Boat and Hotel.)

She implores him to have faith in himself, explaining that she will aid him in fulfilling his dream of a professional tour in which he can show off his pianissimo talents.

He heads over to her home the following day, a mansion to be precise, and looking over the contents (including fingering a low-hanging crystal chandelier) cannot help but mentally note that he's picked a winner!

But, as Popeye used to say, "There's a fly in the oinkment!" Before he can see Merrill again, a mystery woman in a fur-collared coat comes wafting in looking like she owns the place...

It turns out, she does! Miss Barbara Stanwyck, in full-on glamour bitch mode, strides in and looks over Nielsen like he's on the appetizer menu.

Nielsen takes note of her, but sees no reason to alter his devotion to Merrill as a lover and potential meal ticket.

Merrill is jarred and highly uncomfortable by the arrival of Stanwyck. It seems the older dame was to gone for a longer time than she has been, but has suddenly returned and it threatens Merrill no end. She begs Stanwyck not to ruin things as she has before.

Just when we think Merrill may exclaim, "Oh, mother....!" she instead informs us that this is her SISTER! Now, not to knock Stanwyck, who looks dazzling, but she is sixteen years Merrill's senior. I guess the director felt that Merrill's Mar-a-Lago sun damage paired with gauze over the lens for Missy Stanwyck would help to bridge the age gap somewhat. (And having Nielsen, who was one year younger than Merrill, but with Babs' white hair, helped as well perhaps.)

We soon find that Stanwyck indeed wants what Merrill has and makes no bones whatsoever about planning to take it (as she clearly has countless times before...) Again, though, I ask... at sixty-three why hasn't Stanwyck already figured out who and what she wants? Or maybe they all ran away in fear.

Later, Stanwyck explains to Nielsen that the gals' father seemed to have a sick sense of humor. He gave all his love to Merrill, but left all his money (except a paltry $10,000/ year trust fund) to Stanwyck.

$10K went a hell of a lot further in 1970 than it does now, but Merrill still comes up practically penniless when compared to her big sis.

Sure enough, Stanwyck moves right in, mostly claiming Nielsen because she can... She buys out the concert hall just so he can play his piano solely for her, to Merrill's eternal chagrin.

She lays it all on the line with Merrill and, not long after, marries the man in the gardens of the estate.

We are never shown the blissful couple except from behind in the movie because of the way the situation is revealed, but you didn't think I was going to let that stop me did you? I found this press photo of the bride and groom which shows their faces. (The image was watermarked by the current possessor, but you get the idea...)

Now wed to millions, Neilsen can presumably have the high-toned career he wants. However, a new wrinkle comes in the fact that Stanwyck actually does like him and wants him around! Or, at least, likes having "a" man around full time. She forbids him from touring. Oh, and she also sends her sister a letter!

This ticks him off after all the trouble he's gone to dumping Merrill for Stanwyck, so he devises a scheme to get rid of his new wife which partly includes dumping copious amounts of alcohol down her throat! (As one imdb.com reviewer put it, "never a good sign.")
  
Now we come to leg three of The Letters. We meet up with young lovers having a discussion about their future.

The female, Pamela Franklin, wants to make it legal with hunky Ben Murphy (who figured into our recent profile of Runaway! and later worked on The Love Boat, Fantasy Island, Hotel and other Spelling shows.) He loves her quite significantly, but there's a problem...

In a flashback we find that he, a one-time auto racer, was prodded by Shelly Novack, into racing one on one. The cocksure jerk goaded Murphy into it, feeling it would be a breeze to beat him.

Unfortunately for Novack, the race ends in a fiery conflagration which he doesn't survive!

His brother and friend swear vengeance and report Murphy as having crashed into Novack deliberately, killing him, which turns Murphy into a fugitive when he runs away to another city and takes up work as an auto mechanic.

One of the cars he's working on belongs to Miss Ida Lupino, who happens to be the mother of his young love Franklin.

Lupino has had him checked out and knows that he is a fugitive from justice and not at all suitable as a husband for her daughter. She tells him to forget about her and never try to contact her again.

Murphy, miserable after this beat-down, decides to leave this town, too, and start over again, though his feelings haven't changed and his heart is crushed.

Lupino tells Franklin that Murphy is gone for good and that she won't ever see or hear from him again. Under- standably, this crushes Franklin's heart, too.

Murphy contin- uously calls, trying to convince Lupino to relent but she will not. (Apparently, she sits on the phone like a hen on an egg since he can never ever get Franklin to pick up!)

The last time he calls, he begs Lupino to listen to him, but she will have none of it and hangs up angrily, threatening to involve the police if she dials her number even once more.

Lupino has just slammed the phone down when Franklin enters and informs her mother that she wishes Murphy would call or come home... because she's pregnant with his child! A distraught Lupino realizes that she doesn't even have Murphy's number to call him back. And Franklin is keeping the baby. (I do wish that Franklin would have stood in a way that put one crystal bottle stopper over each boob, just to make this movie even hootier - hooterier? - than it is!)

Murphy doesn't even know about the upcoming bundle of joy, but has decided that he's going to go to work on clearing his name, no matter the risk or cost. He writes a letter to Franklin (in care of her mother since she'll intercept in no matter what) explaining his plans and lets his landlady know of his intentions, too.

Problem is, the lovesick youth walks right out into the street in front of a passing car and is mowed down and killed...! The landlady picks up the letter and calls the addressee (with help from an operator) to inform her of Murphy's death.

Lupino must now tell a shell-shocked and very pregnant Franklin that Murphy is truly gone for good...
The letters from all three authors are seen making their way through the U.S. Postal Service. Now, you know they aren't going to allow us to believe that any mail was misplaced or mishandled, despite the existence of a "dead letter office" that was probably packed to the rafters...

No. Here we get DISASTER! A plane carrying sacks of mail crashes in the mountains, exploding the craft, but sending one full bag of letters careening off to the side of the explosion.

About a year later, a pair of mountain climbing hikers stumbles upon the wreckage and the long-lost mail. (I guess when the plane crashed, presumably killing to pilot or pilots, no one bothered to look around the scene at all then?)

Thus, here comes Jones the postman with these delayed missives, each of which must be signed for by the addressee thanks to their "special circumstances." First he shows up at Forsythe's home, where the businessman - now safely ensconced back in his wife Powell's good graces - tries to intercept the letter he wrote himself a year ago and believed gone.

There's no swaying Jones, though, so Powell is handed a year-old letter in which her husband wrote that he was leaving her for another, younger, woman...! What will happen now?

One sort of gets the idea that Forsythe was only capable of so many colors in his acting. This persona is awfully close to the one he demonstrated in Madame X (1966) a few years earlier (his last name is even Anderson again!) and not so far afield from his later Blake Carrington, though I guess he did run something of a gamut of emotions on Dynasty.

Though she was but forty-four at this point, Powell just somehow seems older since she began in movies as a very young girl. She would practically recede from view in the mid-'70s, only to pop up on Spelling's The Love Boat and Fantasy Island along with a recurring part on Growing Pains and a series of successful Polident commercials.

In the second storyline, we find Nielsen fully ensconced at the mansion he inherited from his marriage to the late Ms. Stanwyck. He's busy on the phone with his agent, refusing to play Carnegie hall again unless he gets a European tour first.

Meanwhile, the letter Stanwyck wrote to her sister Merrill is finally delivered to her by Jones. (Her character's amusingly upper crust name in this, by the way, is "Penelope Parkington!")

Merrill now wears her hair curled under, rather than flipped out, but retains an 8x10 glossy of Nielsen in her compar- atively modest apartment living room.

After reading its contents, she heads over to her old digs and confronts Nielsen with its contents. It seems that Stanwyck, even before Nielsen got her drunk and did her in, had suspicions about him and his motives and wrote them all down for her little sister...

How does it all wind up for shifty Nielsen and the put-upon Merrill?

Finally, Lupino is shown with the newborn baby girl of Franklin's. The cranky li'l tyke is all but ignored by her mother, leaving Lupino to be not only the granny to it, but the mommy as well!

Lupino tries to break through to Franklin how much the baby needs the attention of its mother, but the words fall on deaf ears. Franklin cannot completely accept the baby because she feels that her father didn't really love her and the child is a bitter reminder of this...

(Franklin, who was a fairly ubiquitous presence during the 1960s & '70s, abruptly retired from the screen in 1981 at age forty-one and never acted on TV or in the movies again! She had also done The Love Boat & Fantasy Island tour of duty and her last role was on Spelling's Vega$.)

Just then the letter from Murphy arrives and Lupino reads it with keen interest and pointed emotion. In my estimation Lupino has the most demanding role in this TV-movie and handles it with alomb and skill. In real life, she had become an accomplished director, though she would wind up her movie days with low-rent screamers like The Devil's Rain (1975) and The Food of the Gods (1976), her final TV role coming with Spelling's Charlie's Angels as a reclusive movie queen.
Jones wraps things up with an address to viewers, presumably the format that would have been present had the concept wound up going to series.

Fifteen years earlier, these stars would have been able to work in or even carry a feature film of their own, but as time goes by, "best if sold by" dates tend to creep in for most performers. One reason I adore TV-movies like these is the fact that they utilize stars we once knew and loved for earlier projects and they allow them to shine again, if perhaps in a dimmer spotlight.
As mentioned previously, Miss Barbara Stanwyck was costumed elegantly and rather dazzlingly in this TV appearance. The reason for it is that she had developed a working relationship with one Nolan Miller, who'd assisted with clothing on The Big Valley in the late-1960s.

She used him in her two prior telefilms The House That Would Not Die (1970) and A Taste of Evil (1971) and he was the resident designer on Charlie's Angels when she guested there and later on Dynasty and The Colbys, where he kept her dressed to the nines prior to her sudden retirement in 1986.

Less fortunate, though she still looked pretty great throughout, was Miss Dina Merrill. In this scene, she wears a burgundy velvet skirt and vest combo with a vivid pink blouse. Something about this look was just niggling at me mercilessly. Finally, I was able to ascertain why....

Two years prior, albeit with a different blouse, Kim Hunter wore this very same get-up in Escape from the Planet of the Apes!!! You can bet your ass that the heiress to the Post cereal and E.F. Hutton brokerage firm fortune had no clue during The Letters that one of her costumes had previously been sported by a chimpanzee!! And there you have one of our most amusing Designer Double-Dips yet...! (The Letters can be viewed here.)