Showing posts with label Magnificent Obsession. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Magnificent Obsession. Show all posts

Friday, July 8, 2011

Aaaahhh, Feel the Rush!

We got off a little bit on the wrong foot with today's featured actress due to the fact that, as an impressionable child watching Magnificent Obsession on TV, she came across as petulant and uncompromising. Later, when the range of her performance could be appreciated from an adult perspective, and after having seen her in many other projects as well, her talent and beauty could be admired. Besides her obvious good looks and her talent, she was and is, hands down, one of the most poised and elegant ladies ever to come along in Hollywood. We're referring, of course, to Miss Barbara Rush.

Born with that same marquee-friendly name in Denver, Colorado on January 4th, 1927, Rush was blessed with large, liquid eyes and full lips (she was born with the type of lips people inject themselves to try to achieve now!), perfect for use on the silver screen. After high school, she enrolled at the University of California where she sought to hone her acting skills. Additionally, she worked with the University Players and enrolled as a student at the Pasadena Playhouse. It was here that she caught the eye of a Paramount Pictures talent scout who started the ball rolling to a contract with the studio in 1950.

Just as her movie career was about to unfold with a featured part in The Goldbergs, she met a fellow actor who was under contract at 20th Century Fox, the deliriously beautiful Jeffrey Hunter. The Goldbergs (a feature based on the highly popular radio show-turned-television series) gave her a featured role as a young girl torn between two gentlemen. By December of 1950, she'd appeared in her first movie and married her first husband, Hunter.

She was next placed in the period film, Quebec, which was filmed on location and starred John Drew Barrymore (billed at the time as John Barrymore Jr.) and Corinne Calvet. The story concerned the revolt of Canada against England in the 1830s. Following this, she was lent to director Douglas Sirk for use in his film The First Legion, all about the effects of a miracle on a select group of people. She played a disabled girl, driven by faith and it marked the first of four occasions that she would act for the gifted filmmaker.

Back at Paramount, Rush was the leading lady in the sci-fi classic When Worlds Collide. Concerning a newly discovered planet that is hurtling towards Earth, a cache of scientists decide to send a rocket ship filled with young men and women (a sort of contemporary version of Noah's ark) to the new planet since it is expected to survive the collision while Earth is decimated. As the daughter of one of the scientists, she is able to secure an aisle seat .

Her third film of 1951 was a western called Flaming Feather with Sterling Hayden and Forrest Tucker. Her role was mostly decorative as one of an Arizona settlement which is being terrorized by some renegade Ute Indians (led by a duplicitous white man.)

Rush gave birth to her and Jeffrey Hunter's son Christopher in 1952 and was offscreen that year due to the pregnancy. When audiences next saw her, it was in 1953's Prince of Pirates, a low-budget period picture costarring John Derek. She was lent to Columbia Pictures in order to make the lackluster affair that had her playing a Spanish princess.

Restless at the way Paramount was handling her career, she switched to Universal Studios in 1953 and was promptly placed in another sci-fi film that has since become something of a classic as well, It Came from Outer Space. Costarring with Richard Carlson, she played a pretty schoolteacher in a remote Arizona desert town. They witness a meteor crash that turns out to be the arrival of a spaceship that contains a hideous alien life form.

The '50s are dotted with creepy films of this type, some of which are dreadful and some of which are highly memorable (Invasion of the Body Snatchers and War of the Worlds, for example.) Rush was fortunate to be cast in two that were decent and not ridiculously shabby and campy. In fact, this last one, It Came From Outer Space, earned Rush the Golden Globe for Most Promising Newcomer-Female of 1954. (She shared the honor with both Pat Crowley and, um, Bella Darvi.)

1954 brought two more films for Douglas Sirk (and they couldn't be more far apart in subject matter or setting!) First, there was Taza, Son of Cochise, all about an uprising of recently peaceful Apaches with Rock Hudson as the title figure and Rush as his beloved Oona. Hudson's actually the good guy here, battling his brother Rex Reason, the newly arrived Geronimo and a bigoted member of the U.S. Cavalry. Hudson is slathered with body makeup and the sophisticated Rush is wildly miscast as an Indian maiden. Despite the campy aspects and the lunacy of the casting, this was reportedly Sirk's own favorite film due to his always having wanted to direct a western.

Later that year, the far more appropriate and enduring (if unrealistic in its own ways as well!) Magnificent Obsession was released. Jane Wyman starred as a young widow whose husband dies when a local playboy has tied up the use of a vital resuscitator. When the playboy (Rock Hudson) tries to approach Wyman (to simultaneously apologize and sort of put the moves on her!), she is accidentally injured, perhaps irrevocably.

Rush plays Wyman's step-daughter (in the source novel, the same age as Wyman's character, but here a tad younger than her.) She is steadfast in her loathing of Hudson and blames him for her father's death and her step-mother's injury. It's only when she finally realizes the true depth of Hudson's feelings and his desire to make everything right that she relents and treats him favorably.

I may have noted elsewhere in The Underworld that one of my surefire tear-inducements is the depiction of someone either forgiving another person for an injustice or otherwise burying the hatchet after a prior conflict. Maybe it's because I tend to be a fairly unforgiving person myself and am touched to see others doing it. I don't know. I just know that I find myself moved by these scenarios more often than not and this is one of the cases in which I am.

Relating to nothing is the fact that this movie also contains quite possibly the most fantastic lipstick I have ever seen. I don't know what it is, but both Wyman and Rush sport rich, saturated lip color throughout, enough to make me notice it significantly more than in virtually any other movie.

While Magnificent Obsession put Hudson on the path to superstardom (just as it had Robert Taylor in the original 1935 version), Rush was given little similar career momentum. Still incredibly lovely no matter what she was placed in, she was given fourth billing (behind Tony Curtis, his wife Janet Leigh and David Farrar) in the period film The Black Shield of Falworth, her third film of 1954. This was the year that also saw Rush's television debut on a program called Lux Video Theatre.

She made her fourth and final appearance in a Douglas Sirk film (as well as her third and final appearance opposite Hudson) in 1955's Captain Lightfoot. The story of an Irishman turned highwayman, Rush was prettily situated as the love interest yet again. At this same time, Rush's marriage to Jeffrey Hunter was unraveling. One of the town's most sparklingly attractive couples was no more.

Universal cast her in 1955's Kiss of Fire as, once again, a Spanish princess (there is nothing remotely Spanish about Barbara Rush!) This time, her leading man was Jack Palance, though Rex Reason and Martha Hyer (shown with here to the right) were also on board. Palance played a rogue named Il Tigre, who is employed by Reason to help get Rush back to Spain in order to claim her place on the throne, but trouble ensues when she begins to fall for Palance (in an uncharacteristically romantic and traditional part, especially on the heels of Shane, in which he was a cruel, heartless gunslinger.)

In 1956's The World in My Corner, Rush played an appealing society girl who is loved by a boxer from the wrong side of the tracks, but who is desperate to make good in order to marry and support her properly. The boxer was played by Audie Murphy, a much-decorated WWII hero-turned-actor. God only knows what sort of contortions were necessary for Rush to appear this much shorter than the diminutive Murphy.
One of Rush's more prestigious projects came along in Bigger Than Life. The story of James Mason's struggle with, first, arterial inflammation followed by a mind-altering and violent addiction to cortisone offered plenty of dramatic conflict since she played his frightened and concerned wife. Mason repeatedly abuses their young son mentally and worries Rush with his drug-addled antics. Walter Matthau plays a neighbor and friend who ultimately helps contain the dangerous husband.

Next, Rush starred opposite Rory Calhoun in Flight to Hong Kong, a B-movie about the title trip that involves a hijacking of diamonds, followed by a romance between Rush and Calhoun. The following year, she was part of a star-packed, but disappointing, adaptation of a Broadway comedy. Oh, Men! Oh, Women! put her with David Niven, Dan Dailey, Tony Randall and Ginger Rogers, but the result was a series of colorful, but shrill and grating histrionics.

She was now working at ex-husband Jeffrey Hunter's studio, 20th Century Fox and, as a result, was in a film that also featured him – No Down Payment! Their relationship was amiable, however. He was already remarried to his second wife, Dusty, with whom he would father three children. In this soap opera story of four married couples in a California housing development (precursor to Knots Landing, anyone?), she was married to Pat Hingle and Hunter to Patricia Owens. The other stars were Joanne Woodward, Sheree North, Tony Randall and Cameron Mitchell. In the story, Rush's character pressed her husband to conform to the standards set by others. It was not the last time she'd be utilized as the straight-laced, traditional sort of wife.
1958's The Young Lions featured the trio of Marlon Brando, Montgomery Clift and... Dean Martin. While May Britt and Hope Lange paired up with the first two gentlemen, Rush portrayed Dino's wife. Martin's dramatic capabilities paled somewhat in comparison to the other, more celebrated actors in the film, but Clift worked with him behind the scenes and Rush's solid support showed her in a strong light during her limited screen time. Ads for Lux soap (whose television program she'd worked on previously) announced her appearance in the movie.

For that same year's Harry Black and the Tiger, she portrayed the plucky girlfriend of hunter Stewart Granger, who accompanies him on safari. She was featured prominently in some of the artwork of advertisements for the film, though it is practically forgotten today. What little acting accolades there were to be found were reserved for East Indian costar I.S. Johar, who nabbed a BAFTA nomination.
She worked with Paul Newman (who she had gotten to know through his wife Joanne Woodward during the filming of No Down Payment) in the Warner Brothers film The Young Philadelphians. As Newman's society girl fiancee, the role was initially meant for Natalie Wood, but she refused to play it and went on suspension. Newman portrayed an upwardly mobile lawyer who puts off his marriage to Rush, costing him her love. The star-filled drama featured Brian Keith, Alexis Smith, Billie Burke, John Williams, Adam West and an Oscar-nominated Robert Vaughn.

This same year, Rush married for the second time to Warren Cowan, a top-notch publicist. Their marriage would last for a decade and produce one daughter, Claudia, who is today a television news reporter.

Now working at Warner Brothers, Rush found herself cast in plush melodramas with high-level talent surrounding her. First came The Bramble Bush, a Richard Burton film based on a novel of the same name. He played a doctor who commits euthanasia in order to help a childhood friend (Tom Drake) escape the horror of terminal illness. He falls for the friend's lovely wife (Rush) while in the meantime, a shapely nurse (Angie Dickinson) pines after him as well. She's involved with troublesome Jack Carson, however. So the bush was indeed full of brambles! The lovely ladies, Rush and Dickinson, have a tet a tete in the street as bemused gentlemen of the small town look on.
She also starred as Kirk Douglas' wife in Strangers When We Meet, a beautiful soap opera about an architect (Douglas) who falls for a local housewife (Novak) whose husband is (implied) impotent or gay, take your pick. Rush was, as usual, elegant and pretty, but couldn't quite glean the same attention as curvy, lavender blonde-haired Novak was able to. In a reverse of an earlier scenario (in Bigger Than Life), Walter Matthau here played a neighbor who savagely and crudely injects himself upon Rush, rather than helping her.

Now thirty-three years of age, she began appearing more frequently on television than in movies. She had already appeared in the two-part Sunday Showcase production of What Makes Sammy Run? and now proceeded to pop up on Frontier Circus, The Eleventh Hour, The Dick Powell Theatre and several episodes of the Nick Adams investigative show biz reporter show Saints and Sinners. In 1963, she was one of several ladies placed alongside Frank Sinatra in the movie Come Blow Your Horn, based on a Neil Simon play. It was about this time that she switched from long brunette locks to the fluffy, forward-combed frosted look that she kept (with occasional, minor variations) for a very long time thereafter, rendering her almost unrecognizable from the dark-haired girl she'd been previously.
Frankie thought enough of her to use her in practically the only female role in the following year's Robin and the 7 Hoods. A throwback to the Prohibition Era, it concerned (in a light-hearted way) the gangster shenanigans of Sinatra and fellow Rat Pack members Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr. (Peter Lawford was out by this period, per Sinatra's dictum, and was replaced by Bing Crosby.) Peter Falk also starred. The characters each took their names from the personalities in the story of Robin Hood so Rush was, of course, named Marian. Her appearance in this film warranted the creation of a wax figure as there were ones of each of the lead actors used in a promotional campaign. Here she poses for the sculptress amid various disembodied noggins.


More television continued including an episode of The Outer Limits with Vera Miles, a pair of episodes of Dr. Kildare and a two-part episode of The Fugitive, notable in that she played the wife of regular character Lt. Gerard (Barry Morse), the pursuer of the title character, played, of course, by David Janssen. She, like so many other great stars, appeared on the game show Password and was visibly concerned about doing whatever was best to aid her partners.

In 1967, she joined an all-star cast and was reunited with Paul Newman in the western Hombre. Newman played a white man, raised by Apaches, who is on a stagecoach full of disparate types eventually held up by a sadistic criminal. Rush's haughty, condescending character was the wife of Fredric March and gets a horrible comeuppance when she is taken hostage and tied up in the blistering heat. It was a somewhat rare role for her in that she was a) mostly unsympathetic and b) decidedly unglamorous by the end.

She joined the ranks of other celebs before her when she appeared on Batman as a guest villainess. As Nora Clavicle, a women's rights activist who takes over Gotham City and replaces the men in positions of power with female counterparts, she was in one of the more lackluster entries of the series. Since Batman would never strike a woman, there isn't even a “Batfight” in this installment, though Batgirl was on the scene to help take the bad lady down.

Neil Hamilton, who played Commissioner Gordon on Batman, figured into her next movie as well. He was third-billed behind Rush and hunky Hugh O'Brian in Strategy of Terror, a minor tale of a policeman and a reporter teaming up to investigate a potential assassination attempt against a U. N. ambassador.

By now, Rush had also joined the cast of the popular nighttime soap Peyton Place for a limited engagement. She made the rounds of other shows like Mod Squad, Rod Serling's Night Gallery, Marcus Welby, M.D., McCloud, Ironside and even Maude, as Bunny Nash, one of Maude's old school chums whose looks and lifestyle bring out a hint of jealousy in her. She also embarked on a stage career, winning The Sara Siddons Award for her work in Forty Carats in Chicago in 1970.

She was making periodic TV-movie appearances as well. There were 1972's The Man, about how freak circumstances lead to a black man (James Earl Jones) winding up as President of The United States, The Eyes of Charles Sand, about a young man with ESP trying to solve a mystery, and Moon of the Wolf, with David Janssen and Bradford Dillman.

By 1973, her movie career amounted to working for Walt Disney in the dreadful Bob Crane comedy Superdad. While she was still lovely to look at, the weak project offered little to no challenge as an actress (other than trying to get through it without looking preposterous!) A four-year marriage (her last) to bit actor Jim Gruzalski stretched from 1971 to 1975.

Dick Van Dyke had a sitcom, practically forgotten now, that aired between 1971 and 1974 called The New Dick Van Dyke Show. He played a talk show host in Arizona (where Van Dyke actually lived. In fact, a studio was built there in order to film this series, which was very much desired by CBS!) Barbara Rush made three appearances along the way, always as the same character, and one such event was deemed important enough to warrant the cover of a newspaper TV schedule.

Throughout the remainder of the '70s, Rush continued to work on episodic TV whether on Mannix, Ellery Queen, The Bionic Woman or The Love Boat. Always elegant, always fresh and pretty, though frequently troubled or in danger. Do read the ludicrous caption of this promo shot from a stint on The Eddie Capra Mysteries in which she appeared with Troy Donohue, of all people. Barbara Rush an ex-prostie?! Never. Somehow, she was hornswaggled into playing Steve Guttenberg's mother in the craptastically heinous Can't Stop the Music, the disco-flavored story of the creation of The Village People. It seems that this must surely be the nadir of her career, but I haven't seen everything she's ever done, so maybe there's something worse out there. At least it's good for some unintentional laughs!

Rush had filmed several unsold pilots in the mid 1960s and had done a ton of TV through the years, but in 1980, she landed a regular role on television for the first time since Peyton Place. She played matriarch Eudora Weldon on the prime time soap Flamingo Road. The stars of the show were really Mark Harmon, Morgan Fairchild and Cristina Raines, but the performances of stalwarts like Howard Duff, Kevin McCarthy and Barbara Rush added much to the tawdry goings on. John Beck and Stella Stevens also starred. In the second season, Rush's character grappled with an addiction to painkillers. It only ran less than two seasons, though, before being cancelled. NBC was never able to get a proper foothold in the genre that other networks had excelled with.

Rush's final feature film role came in 1982 with Summer Lovers, a sun and sand-filled story set in Greece with Peter Gallagher and Darryl Hannah taking on a third sexual partner (Valerie Quennessen) while Rush (as Hannah's mother) and pal Carole Cook show up in shock. It was a small role, mostly meant as comic relief, and not a particularly fitting way for her to wind up a thirty-year movie career. In 1984, she appeared in a one-woman show, first in Los Angeles and then on Broadway, called A Woman of Independent Means, a recollection-driven story of a remarkable woman. (This same material, based on a book by Elizabeth Forsythe-Hailey, was also the basis for a 1995 miniseries starring Sally Field.)

Television continued to offer more work and a variety of roles, though, again, it was seemingly impossible for Rush to appear as anything other than graceful and attractive. Then again, this was the '80s and glitz was the order of the day. Grunge wasn't even on the radar. She made the rounds on Fantasy Island, Hotel, Murder, She Wrote and Magnum, P.I. (on one occasion, playing Tom Selleck's aunt.) She also had a brief stint on All My Children as a character called Nola Orsini.
When she worked on the 1998 revival of The Outer Limits, she joined an exclusive club of only five actors (with her being the only female) to have done both the original series and the reincarnation. She played, appropriately, an older woman who is made younger through the use of an age-reducing machine developed by a doctor trying to cure cancer.

At age seventy, it seemed there was little room for Barbara Rush on TV anymore, but she wasn't quite finished yet. The family drama 7th Heaven, which starred Stephen Collins and Catherine Hicks (and a gaggle of children) employed her periodically (ten times in all) to portray Collins' mother. During most of her episodes, she was joined by Peter Graves as her husband “The Colonel.” Following her last appearance in 2007, Miss Rush (now eighty) retired from acting, seemingly for good.

That's not to say that she doesn't occasionally get out! Recently, (at age eighty-four) she was a guest at a TCM film festival where she was interviewed by beloved host Robert Osborne. Not surprisingly, she still looks amazing and was dressed immaculately. A gracious, charming star who never landed that one role that would give her iconic fame, she nevertheless added so much to the many film and TV projects she worked on during her nearly sixty-year career.


Considering, too, that she worked alongside Hudson, Douglas, Sinatra, Martin, Burton, Newman and so many others, along with being married to the tragic Jeffrey Hunter and worth for the great Douglas Sirk, one would have loved to read a book by her, but none has ever come forth. It's not to late, Miss Rush, get a collaborator and start reminiscing!


Friday, April 9, 2010

Couldn't We All Use a Little Moorehead?

Apart from any mystical, witchy attributes that her successful role on Bewitched may have lent to her persona, today’s featured actress was one shrouded in mystery long before and remains that way even now to a great extent. And the interesting thing about it is that that is exactly the way Miss Agnes Moorehead wanted it to be! The actress, who seemed to be able to portray practically any type of character during her busy career, was careful to reveal only as much as she wanted to to whomever she was interacting with, and it wasn’t always the same facets of her persona that were shared.

Born in 1900 (though she later backpedaled the date to 1906), Agnes Moorehead was born just that to a Presbyterian minister in Clinton, Massachusetts. A fanciful and creative child, she would impressively imitate the members of her father’s congregation. Her father wanted her to have a reliable occupation and a strong education and so, though he didn’t discourage her love of acting, he “encouraged” her to a bachelor’s degree in biology. Agnes was a schoolteacher for several years before diving into the acting realm fulltime.

She eventually embarked on a theatre career, though one that had its share of dry spells. A spate of particularly rough times caused her to go hungry for several days and, from that, she learned the value of a dollar. In 1930, she was married for the first time (a marriage which lasted until 1952) and she found success working in radio dramas. Radio was a milieu in which Miss Moorehead thrived. Always one possessing a distinctive, yet magically varied and skillful, voice, she swiftly became a favorite with producers in the field, not to mention audiences. One of her greatest successes was Sorry, Wrong Number, which she performed many times over the years, though Barbara Stanwyck was granted the role on film (and much later, thankfully after Agnes was gone, Loni Anderson did a TV movie version!)

In 1937, she met Orson Welles and became part of his fabled Mercury Theatre Group, eventually taking part in the (in)famous War of the Worlds broadcast. The troupe relocated to California within a couple of years and Miss Moorehead was granted her first feature film role through her association with the genius Welles. She played his character’s mother in a little film called Citizen Kane! (This, in case you don’t know, is considered one of the all-time classics in the history of cinema, a very distinguished way to start in the business!)

His next film was primed to succeed even further, but instead it was tampered with extremely heavily, causing Welles no end of torment and ending forever his relationship with the film's (and Kane’s) esteemed editor Robert Wise, who was enlisted to chop 5o minutes from it and shoot some new material to help patch it back together. The film was The Magnificent Ambersons and, even in its ravaged form, there is and was an interest in it. For this, Moorehead’s second screen role ever, she was nominated for an Oscar in the Best Supporting Actress category even though her most momentous scene was cobbled together from new footage blended with bits of the old!

After this, she proceeded to fill out the casts of many films, some now obscure, some memorable. Some of the better-known ones include Welles’ Journey Into Fear, Jane Eyre (in which Welles starred, but did not direct) and Since You Went Away. In 1944, her supporting role in Mrs. Parkington (A Greer Garson-Walter Pidgeon film) netted her a second Oscar nom. She also appeared in the hooty Tomorrow the World! about a young, blonde child who is a Nazi at heart and does any number of things to destroy the people around him, most of whom are treating him with incredible kindness.

Moorehead could play so many types. She would be a simple, plain farmwoman one time and then a snooty, sophisticated lady the next. Never a “beautiful” woman in the conventional sense (though the period photo of her at the top of this post at least reveals an attractive one), she nevertheless was able to wear ornate period clothing without ever looking swallowed up in them. A long neck and regal bearing helped to pull this off. She has a small, but key, role in The Woman in White in which she played the massive Sydney Greenstreet’s wife. That same year, she was Oscar-nominated again for her part in Johnny Belinda, a Jane Wyman movie about a deaf/mute. Wyman, herself, did take home the Oscar that year.

In The Stratton Story, she played the mother James Stewart, who enacted the role of a baseball player who loses a leg. She was only 8 years his senior, though this type of casting was not at all out of the ordinary for her. Now an important “go to” actress for deep, complex or tricky character parts, Moorehead was working with many significant stars and directors of her era.

In the late 40s, Warner Brothers had planned to use Bette Davis and Joan Crawford together in a prison movie, but that all fell apart. In 1950, the project came to light as Caged starring Eleanor Parker as a female inmate and Agnes Moorehead as a sympathetic warden. It was one of the rare times she enjoyed almost co-starring billing, though her name was smaller than Parker’s in the promotional materials.

Around this same time, she embarked on a theatrical venture, one that would mean very much to her and rank among her very favorite and proudest projects. She, along with noted actors Charles Boyer, Charles Laughton and Sir Cedric Hardwicke, were part of a concert-style reading of George Bernard Shaw’s Don Juan in Hell (itself a large segment from the playwright’s enormous work Man and Superman.) Moorehead would play in this production several times, including a recorded album of the performance. A brief second marriage to (eventual) film director Robert Gist took place in the early 50s. He was gone within a year, though the divorce took longer to occur.

Moorehead continued to accent various movies including Fourteen Hours, about a frantic man planning to jump from the window of a building, Show Boat, the colorful Broadway musical that starred Howard Keel, Kathryn Grayson and Ava Gardner, and The Blue Veil, a Jane Wyman tear-jerker about a young widow who fills her days caring for young children. Wyman and Moorehead worked together in five feature films in all. Their next two would become cult classics.

1954’s Magnificent Obsession was a colorful remake of a Robert Taylor-Irene Dunne film from 1935. The weepy story of a newly widowed woman blinded by a young playboy who then strives to restore her sight made a huge star out of Taylor. This time out, Jane Wyman starred as the blinded woman and Rock Hudson appeared as the playboy. Again, the role translated to major stardom for the actor in the male role. Moorehead played a nurse who winds up caring for Wyman fulltime. Her unbridled, drop-everything devotion has led some viewers to detect a lesbian undercurrent. She did have one now-campy scene in which she threatens to take injured, uncooperative Rock’s temperature anally and, incredibly enough, he is aghast at the idea and allows her to put the thermometer in his mouth instead!

The film’s stunning success led to another teaming in All That Heaven Allows. This one had Wyman as another young widow (it just wasn’t safe to be married to her in the 1950s!) with two teenage children who suddenly falls for her hunky, somewhat younger gardener played by Hudson.

Moorehead played Wyman’s friend who can’t help but reel from the idea of her pal hooking up with someone of not only another age group but also (and perhaps more importantly) from another class. She has the memorably reactive line, “Really, Cary, your gardener?” deftly utilizing the voice that she was famous for. In short time, though, she becomes an ally to Wyman when the people of the town (as well as her selfish, insufferable children) react negatively to the match.

Both Obsession and this film were directed by the masterful Douglas Sirk, who delighted in exploring the underbelly of upper middle (and high) class, suburban American life as well as the restrictive social mores of his time. He used color, shadow, framing and symbolism to enhance his films and they are fascinating to watch (Written on the Wind and Imitation of Life are two others that come to mind.) A “homage” to his films of this type, called Far From Heaven, came out in 2002 and starred Julianne Moore, though I found it to be very disappointing on several levels.

1956 was a key year in that this was when Agnes filmed The Conqueror. A ludicrous epic about Genghis Khan that had the audacity to feature John Wayne in the title role (!), it costarred Susan Hayward and an army of others. Moorehead played Wayne's sour-faced mother. What’s remarkable about it is not that it was any good or any bad (though many people have chuckled themselves silly while watching it), but that it was filmed in the desert amidst a nuclear test site and, as a result, over 90 of the cast and crew developed some sort of cancer. Sadly, Wayne, Hayward, the director Dick Powell and Miss Moorehead were among the many, many people who worked on this film who were cut down by cancer within two decades of filming it.

More regal roles (such as in The Swan) as well as amusing ones in colorful messes (such as The Opposite Sex, the musical remake of The Women with June Allyson and Joan Collins) continued, however the late 50s and early 60s brought a slowdown in her cinematic output, mostly due to the ending of the “Studio Era.” She began to work more and more on television, though the occasional film role popped up, such as in the campy horror flick The Bat with Vincent Price and the Disney family film Pollyanna (again with Jane Wyman!)

In 1961, Moorehead starred, practically alone, in one of the all-time memorable episodes of The Twilight Zone. She portrayed a farmwoman, living in a ramshackle old house, who is suddenly invaded by a small spaceship. There was no dialogue in the episode to speak of and she filled the half hour program with her customary professionalism, using every (considerable) acting tool at her disposal. She was brilliant in the episode and it has a nifty twist ending as the cherry on top.

The following year, Moorehead took a role in the sprawling, gigantic, Cinerama western How the West Was Won. She played Karl Malden’s wife and the couple, along with their children who included Debbie Reynolds among them, were making the perilous journey westward in order to settle. It wasn’t a large role, but she got to enact some (rear-projected) action scenes and be part of a very successful venture. That's her on the far right, straining to keep the raft on course. She and Debbie formed a very close friendship during this, one that would eventually prove controversial.

Agnes may have believed that her days of scoring Oscar noms were behind her since, after all, it had been 1948 since her last one. However, her audacious role in the black and white chiller Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte secured her a fourth and final nomination. The gothic thriller was meant to star Bette Davis and Joan Crawford, but Joan took an early hike when she and Bette began to squabble. Davis had had it in for her ever since she swept in to accept Anne Bancroft’s Oscar the year Bette was up for it for What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, so Olivia de Havilland was brought in instead.

Moorehead played Velma Carouthers, the slatternly, unkempt, but protective, maid of Davis, a half-mad plantation heiress who is fighting off developers who want to tear down her decaying mansion. Viewers used to seeing Agnes in stylish, well-appointed, intelligent roles must have spit out their popcorn at the sight of her in poorly fitted clothes, her grey-streaked hair askew, chopped off as with a cleaver! I mean, seriously, take a fucking look at this picture of her! Ha! There is no possible way to describe the way she talks and acts in the film. It simply has to be seen in order to be believed.

Needless to say, every single frame of her performance is golden to me because of the spectacularly trashy, grammatically incorrect way in which she delivers her lines and the slough-footed way in which she shuffles and clomps through the house. Her confrontation with Liv on the staircase is a camp scream. It’s just a shame she isn’t in the movie a little bit more. Also in the cast is her old Orson Welles cohort Joseph Cotten. These sort of cast connections have always fascinated me.

That same year, she started filming what would become her signature role. Though she wasn’t entirely satisfied with the project, she signed on to play Elizabeth Montgomery’s mother Endora on TV’s Bewitched. Montgomery’s character was a witch herself and had married a mortal (ad salesman Dick York), much to the dismay of Moorehead. A dynamic in which Endora continually complicated or otherwise made trouble for the couple was set in motion. She often referred to the husband Darrin as “Derwood.”

For the show, Moorehead adopted a wildly outré look with large, pointed collars, hair piled up in thick curls and false eyelashes that could have been cut into thirds and used on three other women! First shown in black and white, the effect was eye-catching, but not too bizarre. In color broadcasts, as the show soon turned to, she was a cornea-scorching, garish medley of green, purple, orange and most any other color!

Her decades of experience lent her the ability to utilize her arms and face and voice to their fullest extent. She would often enter with a flourish and delight in saying and doing all sorts of impish things. Moorehead never wanted to be identified with just this one characterization (and, in fact, was deliberately limited in her appearances at first so that she’d be free to pursue other things) but when a character is this arresting and lives on in rerun after rerun after rerun, there is very little choice in the matter!

While employed on Bewitched, Moorehead was nominated for SEVEN Emmys in a row, every year the program was on, but didn’t win, at least not for Bewitched. In 1967, she picked up an Emmy for her guest role on The Wild Wild West instead. When York was forced to leave the series due to recurring health issues, the replacement Dick Sergeant and Moorehead didn’t seem to hit it off as well. He described her as a “tough old bird.” In truth, Moorehead only allowed certain people to get to know her closely and he apparently wasn’t one of them.

In that time frame, she found work in a variety of other projects with roles as varied as portraying a nun in The Singing Nun with Debbie Reynolds, enacting The Red Queen in a TV version of Alice Through the Looking Glass, playing an Indian in the TV series Custer and an Aimee Semple McPherson-esque evangelist in What’s the Matter With Helen?, a hag-in-distress flick with Shelley Winters and Debbie Reynolds. These are only a few of the many things she worked on during this prolific time.

In 1973, she played the voice of The Goose in the animated Charlotte’s Web and even sang some in Bewitched sometimes co-star Paul Lynde’s number in which he portrayed the gluttonous rat Templeton. And who was Charlotte? Why, Debbie Reynolds again!

This deep friendship between Agnes and Debbie became the subject of speculation amongst many people. It really came to a head, and, unfortunately for Debbie, started growing even more when Debbie’s ex-husband Eddie Fisher was writing his autobiography and she found out he was going to publish the story that the two ladies were more than friends. She threatened him with legal action and the topic was excised from the book. However, then and now, people still wonder about it.

Debbie went on TCM with Robert Osborne and made a particular point of emphasizing that Agnes was a very devoted Christian and one who would be quite hurt by the gossip-mongering about her sexuality. Moorehead was indeed very religious and was spotted at times with a script in one hand and a Bible in the other. However, she was also a very savvy, wickedly wry and funny person who, while capable of being judgmental, prudish and old-fashioned, also enjoyed the company of gay men very much. She and Cesar Romero were practically a double-bill at many a Hollywood occasion before she died. The bottom line is that, whatever the truth is, Moorehead was an intensely private person with carefully selected friends who, whether straight, gay or into bestiality, would not have shared that aspect of her life with strangers.

One lesser-known fact about Moorehead is that she adopted a son, Sean, in 1949. Her son ran away from home at one point and was eventually discovered living in Europe with, of all people, Paulette Goddard! In any case, he was not mentioned in her will. When she died of cancer in 1974, her estate was divided amongst various charities, schools and so on.

While, even now, most of the details of Agnes Moorehead’s private life are, just that, private, her performances remain for audiences to marvel at. She always found a way to exact as much out a part as she possibly could. A detractor of the legendary Method way of acting, I couldn’t help but be amused by her assessment of it: “The method school thinks the emotion is the art. It isn't. All emotion isn't sublime. The theater isn't reality. If you want reality, go to the morgue. The theater is human behavior that is effective and interesting.” Those are two things Agnes definitely was, effective and interesting!