"Send" in the Clowns

You know, Rock Hudson and Doris Day only made three movies together, but the two actors were so entertaining as a team that the partnership has taken on legendary proportions and many folks believe that there were more movies than there were (this is likely due to Doris making a lot of films of a similar vein, but with Cary Grant, Rod Taylor and, especially, James Garner taking on the male role.) First came 1959's Pillow Talk, a fluffy, fun, sophisticated concoction that allowed both stars to show off previously untapped talents and assets. That spectacularly successful movie was followed up in 1961 with Lover Come Back. It is enjoyable as well, but is my least favorite of the three because R & D aren't together enough in it for my tastes. Finally, in 1964, they were again teamed up in Send Me No Flowers.

This time out, the stars played, for the first and only time, a married couple. Thus, there was no need for wolfish Rock to try to break down the (ostensibly) virginal Doris. They had already done the deed (and clearly, regardless of any other issues, continue to enjoy a healthy sex life) and were now ensconced in laminated suburbanhood. The conflict here stems from the fact that Hudson is a hypochondriac, so bent on having things wrong with himself that he eventually winds up thinking he's near the end of his life and begins to make plans for Day when the time comes. She misunderstands and there you have the setup for their requisite exasperated face off.

The property first saw the light of day as a Broadway play, performing only forty performances in late-1960 to early 1961. David Wayne and Nancy Olson starred in it. Adapted for the screen by Julius Epstein, he was best known for co-writing the script for Casablanca and is also noted for having given a clever answer to the House Un-American Activities Committee. After Jack Warner, who appreciated him and his twin brother Philip's talent, but disliked their approach to working, gave their names to the committee, they were sent a questionnaire that asked, “Have you ever been a member of a subversive organization?” They replied, “Yes, Warner Brothers.”

Director Norman Jewison, then under contract to Universal Studios, was in the middle of a string of frothy comedies foisted on him in his early career. He would later segue into more serious works as well as musicals and other types of comedies resulting in Oscar nominations for In the Heat of the Night, Fiddler on the Roof and Moonstruck. In 1999, he was given the Irving Thalberg Memorial Award for his body of work.

A bouncy Burt Bacharach-Hal David title song, sung by Day, opens the movie, followed by shots of Hudson asleep in his pajamas being tormented by visions of various television commercials hawking medicines and treatments for this ailment and that one. He awakens to his en suite bathroom where he seems to have every medicinal product known to man. While he proceeds to take his shower (with a thermometer in his mouth!), Day is slipping out to the front yard in her robe to grab the morning paper.

The chatty, gossipy milkman arrives and fills her in on some of the latest juicy gossip while filling her arms with the various specialty dairy products that Hudson seems to require. As she's coming back inside, she spies the mail in the mail slot of her front door and tugs at it, inadvertently locking herself out with arms full! That's only the beginning of her trouble as she desperately tries to extricate herself from the situation. It's a fun scene that shows off Doris' physical comedy ability nicely.
Later, back inside, Rock is having his breakfast, a series of vitamins and supplements, while informing his wife of a pain he's experiencing in his chest. Try as we might, we can't get a real good look at Rock's chest because his robe is wrapped around him snugly. This publicity shot (black & white inset) seems to show more than what's available in the film, though he does have the occasional, if brief, shirtless scene. He decides he needs to see his doctor again even though it's only been two weeks since he had a full physical!

Before his appointment, he lunches with an acquaintance who's known for being a merciless skirt-chaser and who preys on freshly divorced (or nearly divorced) ladies by pretending to be there for them in their hour of despair. (The restaurant, by the way, symbolically features dismembered statues of women!) The irony here is that the straight-in-real-life actor, Hal March, comes off as extremely effeminate while the gay-in-real-life Hudson comes off as straight as an arrow by contrast!

Hudson's harried doctor, played in an entertainingly sardonic way by Edward Andrews, continually moans and groans about how other doctors in specific fields have come out on the better side of things financially. He scarcely has time to deal with Hudson's minor affliction. However, Hudson, feverishly afraid that something's wrong, misunderstands a phone call he overhears and is led to believe that he will be dead of heart failure in just a couple of weeks!

On the way home from work, Hudson breaks the news to his next door neighbor and good buddy Tony Randall. Randall takes the matter worse than Hudson and promptly starts drinking himself into oblivion. By the way, despite the famed status that Hudson and Day enjoy as a legendary screen couple, the presence and participation of Randall as the third point of the triangle (in all three movies) cannot be underestimated. He worked exceedingly well both stars, especially Hudson.

From the minute Randall hears about Hudson's impending demise, which is discussed with their faces only inches apart, Randall, half lit, can't seem to keep his hands off of Hudson! His character is married (to an unseen wife) but he is completely focused on Hudson and is continually given chances to paw on him, compliment him and, later in the film, share a bed with him, though obviously all within the realm of comedic discomfort.
Hudson, earnestly believing his time on Earth is nearly over, starts making plans. He decides to withhold the dire news of his terminal illness from his seemingly clueless wife. Day (in an element that does ruffle some feminist viewer's feathers) shows absolutely no signs of understanding or wanting to understand anything related to the financial running of the household, so Hudson feels he has to take matters into his own hands.

First, he goes off to visit a cemetery where the hilariously gregarious Paul Lynde is on hand as a plot salesman. Lynde, in his typically smarmy, snarky way, delights in sharing all the benefits of his establishment, but is disenchanted when he finds out that Hudson's family consists of only him and his wife. It's an amusing vignette that Lynde milks for all the humor he can get out of it without ever heading completely over the top. Despite his fourth billing, he only has this scene and one more brief one near the end of the movie.
Next, after dreaming of Day willingly falling into the clutches of their snappy teen dry cleaner delivery boy (where Day is shown cavorting energetically with a rose in her teeth and dancing wildly with the kid), Hudson decides that he'd better find Day a prospective husband to take his place. He and Randall head to the country club to spot check the most eligible bachelors. This gives them the opportunity to ogle and size up various men such as this tightly packaged specimen playing tennis. He and a couple of other gents are ruled out, so the guys take a cart onto the golf course to see if there are any further prospects. Day is playing a few holes and happens to have chosen a cart that's brakes give out, causing her to careen out of control, eventually soaring through a section of the course that's being watered by some heavy duty sprinklers!
Luckily, she is rescued by someone dashing who happened to be riding a horse in a nearby field. This turns out to be none other than the dreamy Clint Walker, one of the handful of actors who could dwarf Hudson in height and brawn. It seems he is an old boyfriend of Day's and she's thrilled to have come across him again. Hudson and Randall start to feel that he might make the next Mr. Right for Doris, so he is invited to a dinner dance at the country club that night.
Now, since this is a movie that I am watching, naturally The Underworld's own favorite extra Leoda Richards just has to make an appearance. See the shot here on the right with Ms. Richards, in a customarily attention-getting red dress, to the left of Clint and Doris on the dance floor. For more on Richards, click on the tag Mystery Extra in the column to the right. She had been one of my greatest mysteries until one of my valuable online friends helped me figure out who she was.
At this same dance, March shows up with his latest conquest, a woman heading to divorce court played by Patricia Barry. Hudson feels he has to warn her against March's nefarious schemes to get her into the sack. Now... Barry is fifth-billed, but has only this one scene. Almost all of it is played either with her back mostly to the audience or in profile. Furthermore, she plays the better part of her scene in a coat room behind several coats and with one particular hanger dangling right over her face! Either this was the worst planned shot of the film or director Norman Jewison despised this woman!

Day, unfortunately, mistakes Hudson's kindness for sexual attraction and thinks that he's been distant due to an affair. This kicks off an argument (mostly taking place in a parking lot with a plethora of gorgeous 1960s cars that enthusiasts will love seeing) that is only remedied when Rock finally has to break the news that he isn't long for this world.

Now Day is utterly devoted to her husband and dotes on him, nestles into him and generally fawns all over him, though not giving up hope. She makes plans to take him to the Mayo Clinic for diagnosis and cure. Trouble is, she finds out by sheer chance that Hudson actually has nothing wrong with him at all besides indigestion! Hudson, who really does think he's sick, is baffled by Day's sudden change of heart as she tosses him (and all of his medicines) out.

This is where Hudson has to head next door to Randall's house to spend the night. Doris has doused his pajamas with the contents of a hot water bottle, so Rock has to change into one of his pal's nightshirts. Innocent as it all is, these still photos of the men almost look as if the two gentlemen are getting prepared for a night of passion! (This is partly because Tony is miffed at Rock and is staring him down. Hey... there's a thin line between love and hate, right?) They bicker like two old queens about whether or not to leave the window open and pile into bed where they complain about each other's feet and toenails. The next morning, poor Tony is shown in a fetal position taking up about one fourth of the mattress while Rock is sprawled out on his belly with all the covers on.

Walker takes this opportunity to slip in and be there for Day. He has a fun sight gag in an otherwise rather thankless part. He pulls up in a teeny, slender sports car that can barely contain his massive frame. The joke, like many others in the film, is punched across with the aid of Frank De Vol's whimsical and pointedly amusing musical score. Some folks don't like this type of zany music, but I find it charming and appreciate the embellishments it gives to the visual humor.

Further misunderstanding occurs until the inevitable happy ending comes about. It's spoiling nothing to reveal that everything finally comes out in the open. This isn't Camille, after all! (I always make it a point in my film recaps to leave out bits of information that I think a first time viewer shouldn't know. I don't like to ruin things by giving away too much of the details of scenes, dramatic or comedic, for those who haven't seen the movie yet.)

Hudson is handsome and trim here, though, surprisingly enough, you can see the start of some bags under the eyes, perhaps from some wild living after hours. He was only thirty-nine here. He wisely, as should be done in most any comedy, takes his role and its contents quite seriously.

Day, in spite of all the wacky goings on, has such a wonderful way of delivering her lines in a way that gives them such a natural authenticity. For example, when she speaks with cereal or toast in her mouth or when she offhandedly refers to her wet hair when seeing Walker for the first time in ages. Always an actress who felt her parts personally and deeply, she mostly avoided dramatic parts because of what they did to her inside. My favorite Day moments are when she gets completely frustrated and starts an indignant tirade. Something about her voice and body language in these scenes cracks me up.

Randall is superb here. I'm not even a really huge fan of his in general, but he's just wonderful. His timing, delivery and physicality are all working perfectly. I don't see how any of the Academy Award nominated supporting actors of that year were demonstratively better than Randall. Comedic acting is so often overlooked in lieu of drama and we don't always appreciate what it takes to be a really fine funny man like Randall.

I all but worship Clint Walker and am happy that he was given a chance to do something different here, but he's mostly wasted. The story lacks a true villain and there's no way that amiable Clint could bring about anyone's true ire. Even Rock has difficulty getting too worked up over him, though he tries to toss a few barbs at him from time to time, which Walker just laughs off good-naturedly. The clothing they have him in, especially in his first scene is very awkward and ill-fitting. He seems so constricted and hunched in it, which is very much at odds with the proud, tall, expansive way he usually stood in his western films and TV shows. And would it have killed them to toss Walker one brief close-up of that gorgeous mug and his ice blue eyes?!

This being a suburban romp rather than a big city, professional story, Jean Louis' creations for Doris are mostly less glamorous than fans had become accustomed to in these pictures, but she wears a fun pair of satin pajamas, a flowy chiffon nightgown and one long, tailored dress with a matching jacket. I remember once having to do hair for a stage production of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and using Doris' look with the bow stuck in the top/center for the character of Honey. Her costume was a long dress that was cut off and hemmed for the show and I fashioned her a bow from the leftover material, making sure it matched, all-important for that era! As the drama wore on, of course, the bow came out and the hair started to look more and more disheveled.

Send Me No Flowers is perhaps just a tad too long to support its premise and every once in a while something comes along that is allowed to linger a little bit further than we might like. However, it is mostly a colorful, crisply clean, amusing movie with many little details that help give it life. It's not anything that's going to change the world, but, if you're in the right frame of mind, it could change your mood!

Top o' the Mornin' to Ye!

Whether your St. Patrick's Day is “Quiet”







































Or you choose to look for the pot of gold at the end of the “Rainbow”

I just hope your luck doesn't run out!

And, incidentally and pertaining to nothing, did you ever notice how startled Irish people look in the movies during their weddings?!

As for me, while “Darby” is fooling around with his “Little People,” I'll be making time with cute li'l Sean. Have a very safe and happy St. Patrick's Day!

Fun Finds: Motion Picture Magazine - June 1964

This is yet another new type of posting that I hope to turn into a series, though I don't believe I will number them. I'll just label them as such. I go to a lot of antique shops, antique shows, flea markets, thrift stores, old book stores and so on, always on the look out for that stray piece of film or TV memorabilia that I can rescue from eventual demise. Some of my very favorite books have been located this way.

About a week ago, I went to a large antique show and was wandering around when I came upon a stack of old movie magazines. Some asshole was charging $20 to $25 apiece for them, which I thought was exorbitant (and I wasn't the only one thinking that since they were still there at the end of a long day!) I turned a corner and saw another table with all sorts of magazines, most of them new. An odd thing stuck out, though. I saw what seemed to be an old one and the corner read “We Go To Liz' Wedding.” Hmmmm.... I picked it up and saw that Jackie Kennedy was on the cover and immediately thought, “Oh, God... They're gonna want an arm and a leg for this.” (It always seems that anything with Elvis, Marilyn, The Kennedys, James Dean or John Wayne somehow gets jacked up to the sky. And what Jackie had to do with motion pictures, I still don't know!) There was a handmade sign that said, “MAGAZINES - 50 CENTS.” I thought surely this wouldn't apply in this case, so I asked the man, “How much is this magazine?” He said, “Fifty cents.” You never saw anyone rifle through his pocket for two quarters so fast in your life!

It was an issue of Motion Picture Magazine from June, 1964. Already, according to the inside, the title had been in print for fifty-three years, which would have meant that it began in 1911. Could that really be true? Anyway, being a freak for all things '60s, '70s and '80s, I was fine with the fact that it was a “later” issue. The thing was still older than me! Now, you know in The Underworld, my good fortune is your good fortune, so I'm going to post some of the pictures and articles that were found inside!

First up is the gossip section. I thought you might like to see Sheilah Graham's column in its entirety. There isn't any stunning news in it, but it gives you a cross section of who was hot at that moment in 1964. (Today, such a column would be filled to the brim with tidbits about all sorts of tawdry starlets, sleazy singers and various reality TV performers. Contrast that with the sort of names mentioned here!)

I do apologize for the smeariness of at least one of the scans. I was pressed for time, had issues with the setup of the scanner and was trying not to bend up the original magazine too much. I think you can still make out most, if not all, of the text when you click to enlarge.

You can see an example of how Richard Chamberlain was trying to dodge marriage questions as well as a shot of Tony Curtis and the young woman he left Janet Leigh for (when he acted with her during Taras Bulba and eventually got her pregnant.) Incidentally, Christine Kaufmann would give Tony two more daughters, no sons. His third wife had two boys, giving him a total of four girls and two boys.

Then there's a shot of '30s dancing star Eleanor Powell and her son by Glenn Ford, Peter. By Hollywood standards, Eleanor and Glenn were married a fairly long time, about sixteen years. Peter appeared in a lot of publicity photos as a child with his famous parents and tried to become an actor in his own right, but the older he got, the most bizarrely disproportionate his ears got! (Even Clark Gable and Loretta Young's daughter didn't have it this bad, I don't think.) I have never seen ears like this on anyone in my life, which surely made it difficult for him to sustain a considerable career in the movies and on TV. Sweet guy, and a cute one, but I just don't think it was gonna happen...

As Sheilah's column continues, we see blurbs about Connie Stevens and her husband James Stacy. James, of course, would in time divorce Connie and later marry Kim Darby of True Grit fame. Then, in 1973, he was severely injured in a motorcycle accident when a drunk driver hit him and his current girlfriend. She was killed and he lost his left arm and left leg. In a touching demonstration of support for him, both ex-wives did everything they could, including arranging benefits, in order to get him back to work. He did work sporadically, despite his life-changing injury, but was, understandably, never quite the same.

Then we have an update on the stormy divorce of Bette Davis and Gary Merrill as well as an indication that Bobby Darin's health was not the greatest. (He would be dead by 1973 at the age of thirty-seven.) There's also a mini-obituary for the recently deceased Peter Lorre.

The final page of her column catches us up on Sophia Loren and Carlo Ponti's marital and child-bearing woes, speculation on Judy Garland and Sid Luft's relationship and ruminations on the art of campaigning for Oscar nominations, something that still raises eyebrows today (not to mention baffling people as to which approach works – lying low or getting your face out there. Both seem to create results!) We find out which costar of Grace Kelly's was her least favorite. We also get some reliable info on the impending romances of Cliff Robertson and Dina Merrill and Roger Vadim and Jane Fonda. Really, Sheilah's column includes a lot of things that turned out to be accurate. Good going!

At first glance, this next article seems surely to be one about the phenomenally successful musical group The Beatles. However, closer inspection reveals that it is actually a picture taken at a Screen Writer's Dinner in which four well-known actors donned wigs and parodied the hot singing foursome! A quartet whose members one doesn't immediately associate as being found together, they included Dick Van Dyke, Gene Barry, Jackie Cooper and Rock Hudson! They called themselves The Beverly Hillbeatles and were each redubbed with an O on the end of their name in "homage" to Beatle member Ringo Starr. (Note, too, that in 1964 to call someone Jackie-O had no special significance. It was a moniker still lingering in recent widow Jackie Kennedy's future.) It is because of oddities like this little article, of a now long-forgotten incident, that I love to stumble upon old magazines like this and see how things were back in the day.

There's also a two-page spread on the wealth of baby girls to be found in Tinseltown. That's not Sophia's own child, however, but her niece. In order to (later) have her two sons, Sophia would undergo horrendous complications and remain in bed for practically the entire durations of her pregnancies. They would be the source of much joy to her, however, as Carlo Jr. became an orchestra conductor and Edoardo a film director, both married with children of their own now.
On the opposite page, we see Andy Williams and his daughter Noelle. Andy's wife was little more than a dancer who acted a bit at this time, though a little over a decade later she would become infamous and splashed across the headlines of many periodicals. (See right) Nineteen year-old Claudine Longet married Andy in 1961 and they had three children together before divorcing in 1975. Then in 1976, she, one way or another, shot and killed her lover, skier Spider Sabich and stood trial, with Andy returning to her side. Despite this, she ended up marrying her defense attorney and serving her thirty-day jail sentence here and there, mostly on weekends, until it was complete. They remain married even now and reside in Aspen, Colorado.

We also meet little Mariska Hargitay who is now, of course, a television star in her own right, and Joan Collins' eldest daughter Tara Newley. Arlene Dahl was already in semi-retirement by this time, having backed away from acting somewhat after the birth of her son Lorenzo Lamas. This daughter, Carole, was by another husband, Christian Holmes, and they were already on their way to divorce court by the time of this publication. She would marry three more times (six husbands in all!) and have a third child by her fifth husband. At least the last husband, Marc Rosen, who she married in 1984, is still wed to her as I type!

Now. Here's a sort of odd thing, to me, anyway. The cover of the magazine says “We Go To Liz' Wedding.” That would sort of indicate that the wedding was to someone not particularly famous in his own right, wouldn't it? But, no, the wedding was Elizabeth Taylor's first wedding to Richard Burton! Liz and Dick! The world-famous couple whose romance shook the globe! He was not an unknown actor. It's really odd, but is also a testament to how, at least at this point, she was the dominant point of interest in all of this.

So who do you think was in attendance at the ceremony? I'm betting that the first two names to trip off your tongue are not the ones who were there. Try Hume Cronyn and Jessica Tandy! Cronyn had appeared in the epic Cleopatra, where Taylor and Burton had met and fallen for each other despite being married to others. He was appearing in Toronto (where the wedding took place) with Burton in a staging of Hamlet. Note how the text to the left continues to refer to "Liz Taylor's Wedding" as if Burton were just a mere part of it all!

The happy couple declared that there would be no more marriages, but of course this was not to be. Not only did they divorce in June of 1974 only to remarry in October of 1975 (divorcing again in July of 1976!), but they had another two spouses apiece after that. His last wife, Sally, survived him when he died in 1984. Liz's last husband, Larry Fortensky, was divorced from her in 1996 and she hasn't married again since that despite many rumors over the years.

Elizabeth's wedding ensemble, by the way, was a bit of a variation on one of the looks she sported in Cleopatra! A yellow chiffon dress with honeysuckle tucked into her hair, it was reminiscent of a similarly-hued gown she wore in the period epic which she had also paired with a floral headpiece.

There's a little spread on Miss Natalie Wood that fans of hers should enjoy. Most of them know how she loved to play with her hair, clothing and makeup and this blurb expresses that same notion, while also mentioning her industriousness at being and staying a star. The film before this was Love with the Proper Stranger (with Steve McQueen) and she was in the midst of Sex and the Single Girl (with Tony Curtis), with The Great Race to come the following year. She had been divorced from Robert Wagner for two years by now and would marry her second husband about five years after this.

Finally, there's this beautiful color set of Miss Ann-Margret, taken when she was in her painted, pouting, pussycat phase. Viva Las Vegas was under her belt (and elsewhere in the issue, her relationship with Elvis is speculated upon) with Kitten with a Whip on the horizon, soon to be followed by The Pleasure Seekers and Bus Reilly's Back in Town. It would be another seven years or so before her acting would begin to be appreciated over her physical assets. This spread was presented sideways across two pages. In case her fans wanted a copy of the larger photo in one piece, I soldered them together and that appears beneath on its own.

I'll be back in the future with more Fun Finds from my escapades around town. I hope you enjoyed this installment!

Oh, What a Character! Part One: Frank's the Thring

Thanks to an ungodly busy schedule these days (I rehearse five nights a week for an upcoming play in addition to my job now!) and continued issues with the computer I use to blog, I'm probably going to lean more towards some shorter posts for a while rather than the more exhaustive ones I've been doing. In that respect, I'm kicking off today what I hope will be a series. Little tributes to character actors and actresses who don't always get their time in the spotlight. So, off we go with the first one!

Once seen in action, it's tough to forget the imposing, outrageously flamboyant Frank Thring. Born in Melbourne, Australia in 1926, he was an actor from practically the time he was in diapers until his death. His father, F. W. Thring, was a filmmaker who is notable for having implemented the use of the clapperboard (“Scene 7, Take 23!”), an item still in use today! Though his father would be deceased by the time young Frank was ten, he had already been put to use in his father's films from the time he was a toddler. A wealth of stage work eventually followed.

After having taken over an Australian repertory theatre (where he took part in some electrifying work including plays of Oscar Wilde and William Shakespeare), he eventually relocated to England when a rival company sprang up and hampered the success of his own. More stage work in England, including playing Captain Hook against Peggy Cummins' Peter Pan and a blistering production of Titus Andronicus with the prestigious cast of Laurence Olivier, Vivien Leigh and Anthony Quayle, followed. In fact, Leigh was matron of honor when Thring (despite being a homosexual) married his wife, Joan Cunliffe.

American film star Kirk Douglas happened to attend a perfromance of Titus Andronicus and strongly suggested that Thring pursue a career in Hollywood films. Thring made his debut in the 1958 Douglas picture The Vikings, which also starred Tony Curtis, Janet Leigh and Ernest Borgnine. As the regal, nefarious (and over-the-top!) King Aella, Thring's die was cast. Though most, if not all, of his characters were straight, he played them with an extraordinarily gay attitude and expression. This was a conceit that audiences basically had to just overlook and most of us gladly did and do! His incredibly distinctive voice, his large frame and his intimidating, sinister and unforgettable face meant that he could have had a lifelong career playing nasty villains on the big screen.

As it turned out, he did so, but really only four times to speak of. Next up was 1959's Ben-Hur, in which he played Pontius Pilate in the mammoth epic. The incredible hit won eleven Oscars, including Best Picture, and held a record in that vein which stood until 1998, four decades later. Though he was not nominated for his arresting performance amidst a crowded landscape of actors, his contributions were memorable. Decidedly unhandsome by conventional standards, he nevertheless possessed a sneering, authoritative face that was captivating to behold.

In 1961 there was the Samuel Bronston-produced epic El Cid (which, like Ben-Hur, starred Charlton Heston) where Thring played Al-Kadir, Emir of Valencia, another threatening, malicious and dangerous character. Again, he found himself appearing in a massive hit that, like Ben-Hur, has endured today as a classic example of the historical spectacle genre. In this one, he was bedecked in turbans, golden jewelry and dark makeup with heavy eyeliner. One of his scenes has his private lair burst in upon while he is entertaining a group of people including this "lovely." As usual, his expressions throughout the film are priceless. (Also, in a surprising continuity gaffe, long shots have his headwear pushed far further back on his head than the closeups do.)That same year, Thring had a featured role in a King of Kings, the story of Jesus Christ and really the first motion picture to allow his face to be completely, regularly shown. (That the role was played by the stunningly handsome Jeffrey Hunter is another story.) Thring was Herod Antipas, married to evil Rita Gam and salivating over her daughter Brigid Bazlen (as the infamous Salome.) So enraptured by Bazlen is he that he is willing to decapitate John the Baptist in order to witness her dance seductively for him. He, quite unforgettably, mugs and grimaces as she flits and gyrates around. And dig that headpiece!
Despite this string of successes, Thring decided to depart Hollywood and go back to Australia where he continued to work in the theatre (quite a few times as Sheridan Whiteside in The Man Who Came to Dinner) and in film and television projects filmed there. Thus, he can be seen in a small role as an art dealer in the 1969 film Age of Consent, starring James Mason and a young, nudely cavorting Helen Mirren. The year after that, he played a judge in one of Mick Jagger's few acting exercises, Ned Kelly.

The next time Thring was likely to be seen by a U.S. audience was in 1985 when Mel Gibson's Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome was released. Third in the series, Thring played The Collector, head of a slave-trading place called Bartertown. Two years after that, he had a small role in another third installment of a film series, this time Howling III. He also appeared in one episode of the 1993 Mission: Impossible TV series redux, which was filmed in Australia. Prior to his death from cancer the year after that (at age 68), Thring had become an acidic, but very popular, stage and television critic and toured in a devilish one man show about himself that kept audiences engrossed. Fittingly, the last thing he did was to provide the voice of Zeus in Hercules Returns, a spoof of sword & sandal flicks in which an actual 1963 film was redubbed with Australian voices saying all sorts of inappropriate things.

His nefarious roles during his brief stay in Hollywood are among some of the most entertaining ever put to film and he was really one of a kind. Frankly, we'd salute Thring for these performances even if he had never done another thing (which he certainly did!)