Thursday, June 20, 2013

"Dinah"? Shore!

Holy mackerel... That's almost all I can say. (Well, if you frequent this site you know that I can say and say and say plenty!) Over the course of my several-decades-long immersion into vintage movies and TV, I have occasionally heard mention of a little-known film called Dinah East (1970), but it's been off the radar for so long and so difficult to lay eyes on that it sort of drifted out of my consciousness for quite a while until recently when a fellow blogger (and an excellent one!) unearthed it for a tribute at his wonderful site.

Having gotten a taste of the movie there, I had no choice but to order myself a copy of the newly-restored, wide-screen DVD, for it seemed like my type of movie: soapy, glossy, melodramatic, containing late-'60s/early-'70s clothing and hair and, in no way lastly, a parade of men in various stages of undress! I was not disappointed. So obscure is this movie that I could find no original poster, stills or lobby cards to use for this post!

Dinah East (originally to be called, “The Great Put-On of Dinah East”) is an exploitation movie made with an eye for capitalizing on the age-old rumors that stage and screen legend Mae West was, in fact, a man all along and not a biological female! (I think if it had been me, I might have named the film “June East” instead... get it?!) What's ironic (or was it purposeful at the time?) is that the rather drag-queeny West herself was making a long-awaited return to the screen in 1970, appearing in the then-X-rated Myra Breckinridge alongside Raquel Welch, John Huston and others.
The writer-director-producer-composer of Dinah East, Gene Nash (eat your heart out, Eddie Murphy!), ran into tax problems with the low-budget movie and it was pulled from circulation after only limited showings. Most likely in a bid to add notoriety and publicity to the movie, he began to claim in ads that Mae West had managed to block and suppress the film because of its ostensible connection to her and her career. In truth, there is precious little about the film that bears any relation to Mae West. The moldy rumor about her gender is merely a starting point for a film that recalls many “Old Hollywood” scenarios from “Norma Desmond” to Greta Garbo to Jean Harlow.

Have you ever watched a movie, be it anything from Up Periscope (1959) to The Magnificent Seven (1960) to Ride the Wild Surf (1964) to Cool Hand Luke (1967), and wondered what it would be like to see the men of the film naked? (I sound like Peter Graves in Airplane! right now!) Good luck with that. The rules were different, though, for exploitation movies with no stars in them to speak of. Producers opting to target the oglers out there could pretty much set their own standards.

But most of the time, even in lots of exploitation films then and right up to the present day (with Andy Warhol protegee Joe Dallesandro, seen here with Sylvia Miles, a notable exception), male nudity was scant, fleeting, obscured and de-emphasized. The focus was often on women and their bodies. Not so with Dinah East. Yes, there are some naked females, but unquestionably the limelight is shone most prominently on the men. When one watches this movie, an exploitation flick dressed in Ross Hunter's bargain-basement thrift store donations, and wonders what the men might look like naked, the wishes are often granted! No less than seven actors go full-frontal, matter-of-factly captured by the camera as they go about their melodramatic business.

The film begins with a young, blonde man (Reid Smith) swimming in a luxurious pool without benefit of trunks. As he exits the pool and enters a Hollywood mansion, draped in a towel, he is stopped in the hallway by his mother, who proceeds to tug at his towel, causing it to fall off. His casual response as he stands there naked is, “I suppose being one's mother gives one the right to look every once and awhile.” In other words, the kink and the skin is present in this film from the get-go before the credits have even rolled! (The mansion was reportedly that of ventriloquist Edgar Bergen, left mostly empty with Candice grown up and living in Europe at the time. Hopefully, Charlie McCarthy was safely in his case and didn't witness all the nude goings on!)
Reid's mom, the Dinah East of the title, then heads out in her Rolls Royce limousine for a toddle around Beverly Hills. Seemingly suffering from dizziness and shortness of breath, it's a struggle to get to the car. Her driver (Matt Bennett) turns around at one point to see that she has passed out and in short order discovers that she has actually died in the backseat of the car! When an ambulance comes and takes her away, Bennett is distraught.
Soon, we find that the ambulance drivers have been paid off in order to take the body to a specific mortuary/ funeral home where the shiftless embalmer likes to have celebrities deposited. Eager to get his hands on the departed star, he heads into the room with the slab and begins to undo her clothing. He is startled to see that her bra isn't actually filled with breasts, but is downright stunned when he hikes down her underwear and finds a penis!
His reaction to this news is to recoil in horror, run down the hallway and ravenously gnaw on a Baby Ruth candy bar (when he had JUST eaten one prior to going into the room with the body!) How's that for Freudian imagery? He then alerts the newspapers of his discovery.

Yes, Dinah East, played by Jeremy Stockwell, was a man all along. We learn in flashback how Stockwell was a young cinema hopeful who could never get a job in the movies. He would report to cattle calls and be sent packing without any sort of entree to the sets. When he realized that the big need was for chorus girls and other female talent, he decided to cross-dress his way into the world of film-making!

From a simple dress extra to a supporting player to a major star, Stockwell manages to maintain the illusion of female gender, building wealth and legions of fans in the process. As the movie progresses, we come into contact with various people whose lives were either affected by or intertwined with Stockwell and each one flashes back to a key period of time in the relationship.

One is Margaret Rolfe as the wife of a security guard who was one of the first (and few) to discover Stockwell's secret, but who was kind enough to keep it. In return, Stockwell made sure that his widow was financially secure, her house paid off in full.
Studio costume designer Ultra Violet is caught by Stockwell in a lesbian clinch with one of her clients, causing a minor furor, but in time the designer becomes aware of Stockwell's peculiar situation and the two become devoted friends and confidantes. (It might be noted that Mae West had a strong connection to Oscar-winning designer Edith Head, who sexual orientation was often in question. Head designed West's costumes for Myra Breckinridge, but flatly refused to see the actual film, which, by today's standards is tame indeed.)
We next meet a flamboyant actor (Ray Foster), known for his derring-do on the silver screen, but now washed up and drowning his sorrows in a gay bar. The bar, which must be seen to be believed, has a Lawrence Welk bubble machine on overdrive and a cage containing a dancer partially clothed in pirate gear. I say partially because the well-endowed dancer's private parts (belonging to porn star Joe Frost) are swayin' in the breeze as he gyrates around inside the cage! A collection of catty queens in various modes of outre dress sits at the end of the bar gossiping (almost forty-five years later, how much of this part has really changed?!)
Foster recalls, in a rollicking and quite preposterous flashback scene, himself prancing around the studio backlot in revealing tights, debating with his agent the pros and cons of using Stockwell as a beard in order to throw people off the scent of his homosexuality. The two head out on a date to a swank dinner club where they scope each other out warily, but with a certain level of captivation. (Stockwell briefly imitates Louella Parsons in this sequence, an act that a handful of people – out of the slightly larger handful who have actually scene this movie – have mistakenly interpreted as a Mae West impression!)

He wines her, dines her and almost 69s her, but when push comes to pump, he finds that he just can't go through with it. It's okay, though, because Stockwell is able to use Foster for his own purposes as well, given that as a man posing as a woman, he can't just date anyone!

Back in the present day, we then come to know Stockwell's attorney, played by Andy Davis. Davis is being fired by the head of his conservative law firm from his connection with Dinah East, the scandal now raging furiously. Davis is disturbed by the fact that this secret has become public and has now severely damaged his career and livelihood. He studies a portrait of his son and his own late wife, which segues into a scene with that son (Joe Taylor.)

Taylor is at the seashore awaiting his girlfriend (Susan Romen), pensively processing the fact that his father has been the longtime lawyer and, allegedly, once the lover of a legendary female star who has now been revealed to be a man! His thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of his gal pal who insists that the two take advantage of the free time to make love. They hold hands and frolic (in 1970s slo-mo!) to a secluded section of the woods where they get it on. Afterwards, she starts running her mouth about his father and he angrily hits her and takes off, allowing us a momentary glimpse of his naked body.

He confronts his father Davis who then reveals in flashback how he became Stockwell's lawyer and was able to arrange the adoption of his/her son Smith. With Stockwell petrified that anyone might find out the big secret, he/she reveals it to Davis, who is apoplectic. Filled with a mixture of resentment, revulsion, betrayal and, truth be told, arousal, he proceeds to rough Stockwell up a little and then attempt to sexually abuse him/her, though it ultimately comes to nothing.
Davis, confused, frustrated and, eventually, drunk, proceeds to his girlfriend's apartment. The girlfriend (Vicki Carbe) and he have not yet had sex together, but he's decided that this will be the night. In this scene Davis finally shucks his pants and the after-effect of their love-making is their son Taylor, who is horrified to learn the details of his conception.

Taylor departs to Stockwell's mansion where he hopes to console his friend Smith, who is himself in shock over losing his adoptive “mother” who was actually a man! I cannot tell you how much I was hoping that these two buddies were going to somehow “turn to each other” in their respective hours of need, but, sadly, it wasn't to be...

Smith is facing a tidal wave of scandal and scorn including the loss of his fiancee, whose parents refuse to let her see him after hearing the news. In yet another flashback, we see Smith cavorting naked with the girl (Kitty Carl) in his backyard swimming pool. They are deliriously happy at the prospect of marrying, but first he must break the news to his mom. Again, as before, Smith is nude throughout most of the scene.

Overhearing Smith's grief, we then spy chauffeur Bennett again, who is desolate after the death of his employer. In the movie's final flashback sequence, we discover that Bennett was a professional boxer, hired to train with swashbuckling (and swish-buckling) actor Foster, which led to his meeting Stockwell. Bennett and Stockwell begin to see more of one another and, in one of the film's corniest, yet somehow most irresistible, moments they are shown jogging together, Stockwell riding a bicycle alongside a running Bennett and sailing together. A cheesetastic song called “Thank You Alex,” sung by Jon and Sondra Steele, plays over this sequence.
Bennett falls in love with Stockwell and, as it turns out, couldn't really care less that Stockwell is actually a man! (As Joe E. Lewis said at the end of 1959's Some Like it Hot, “Well... nobody's perfect!”) The two carry on a clandestine romance that transcends their outward roles of boss and driver. Bennett does have a nude scene in the movie, but primarily a rear one, though one can see from his white sailing britches that he's no slouch. Amazingly, in this ostensibly lurid and exploitive flick, the love affair between these two more-than-complicated characters is treated with surprising tenderness and acceptance.

The finale of the movie involves Dinah East's wordless funeral service with the chief participants gathered around (but, strangely, NO ONE else!) Naturally, though I have revealed much in this synopsis, there is still a lot that I have chosen not to tell in order to maintain a level of surprise for those of you (I should think most of you!) who have yet to see this. I can not recommend the movie enough to fans of camp and old-style Hollywood soap.

The men are handsome (and with a variety of body types and hair levels), but not unusually "hung," displaying a welcome comfort with their bodies that is foreign to what we generally see today outside of folks like Ewan McGregor or Michael Fassbender. So often we only catch a glimpse of naked stars or quasi-stars who feel they have something worth showing. The others contort or obscure themselves out of (legitimate!) fear of ridicule as the standard for what is acceptable has become distorted by repeated exposure to pornography or to those who are justifiably confident in letting it all hang out. (Even many of the men on pay cable series with frontal nudity rely on either digital enhancement or prosthetics -!- in order to meet this standard.)

What's most staggering about Dinah East, though, is that its budget is low and its acting is of highly variable quality, yet the participants seem to really be trying to give their all. None of the people in the film (with the exception of the clammy, hammy mortician at the beginning) plays his or her role for laughs or even with tongue in cheek. They are serious about what they are doing and, as a result, occasionally obtain a fleeting level of excellence! Of course, this dire seriousness can also be quite funny when things go the opposite way. And we can't discount the mindblowingly sympathetic, progressive and accepting way in which subjects like homosexuality and gender-bending issues are handled in an era when most other films presented these things as either garish comedy or grotesque sickness.

This was the screen acting debut of Houston-born Stockwell and he was not seen again for almost two decades after. (IMDB.com lists this Jeremy Stockwell as the same man who later became a TV actor, panelist and sought-after acting coach in the U.K., but I could not pin down this information as fact!) So many times, Stockwell has been derided for not looking enough like a woman, yet I can't see where he's any less feminine-looking than, say, actress Lindsay Crouse:
To me, he looks damned similar to omnipresent 1970s TV actress Laraine Stephens, shown below:

Yes, the voice is a bit low, but I'll take that any day over the forced, high-pitched falsetto that so many men playing women have adopted. He's also done no favors by a few wretched wigs amid the occasional okay ones. But for a pronounced chin and an occasional unease in gait, I think Stockwell pulls it off very well! He is small-framed, has petite, attractive hands (often another dead giveaway) and an appealing, even sparkling, smile. I really appreciate the understated, realistic quality that he brings to the part. There's a thick Texas accent that he is unable to disguise despite trying, but, listen, this could have been a lot worse! Incidentally, some of the clothing he wears in the movie belonged to co-producer Paula Stewart (comedian Jack Carter's wife!) as they wore the same size!

This just in! (12/20/23) - Stockwell was part of the near-legendary Sal Mineo-directed production of Fortune and Men's Eyes in 1969. He played Mona, who was tormented by fellow inmates at a tough prison. This would have been just prior to the filming of Dinah.

The person in the film with the most personal fame was Ultra Violet, a French actress (born Isabelle Dufresne) who spent significant stretches of time with noted iconoclastic artists Salvadore Dali (shown with her below) and Andy Warhol. A minor screen acting career lasted through the early-'70s and she published a book about her time with Warhol in 1988. Her own accent creates an occasional chuckle in the film such as when she refers to the studio “grape VINE” at one point. She is currently seventy-seven.
Foster had been working on TV and in movie bit roles since the mid-'50s, but Dinah East seems to have slammed the lid on anything further. Though his performance is sometimes too broad, he does have several sincere and quiet moments that are played quite skillfully and it's a shame he disappeared from view after 1970. He is apparently still alive today at age seventy-eight, but like most people in this movie, information is hard to come by.

Loveable lug Bennett had played a small role in Tony Curtis' The Boston Strangler (1968) and went on to small parts in Hickey & Boggs (1972), a Robert Culp/Bill Cosby big-screen teaming, and such TV projects as Little Ladies of the Night and Alexander: The Other Side of Dawn (both 1977) as well as How the West Was Won, a 1978 miniseries, before petering out in the mid-'80s. He died of a brain tumor at only age fifty-seven in 1991.

Three young men received “Introducing...” credit in Dinah East. Reid Smith proceeded to a surprisingly busy, though minor, career in television and the odd movie. He had a role in Anne Baxter's The Late Liz (1971), was a regular with Mitchell Ryan on the short-lived police show Chase (1973-1974) and guest-starred on many shows from Columbo to Mork & Mindy to Remington Steele to Dynasty before retiring in the mid-1990s. He is sixty-four today.

The second, Joe Taylor, proceeded to a role in the gay-themed movie Some of My Best Friends Are... (1971) that featured an eclectic cast including Fannie Flagg, Rue McClanahan, Carleton Carpenter, Sylvia Syms, Gil Gerard, Candy Darling and Gary Sandy, followed by a couple of bits. His last credited part was in 1974. I am fascinated by his thick eyebrows, huge, pouty lips and voluminous hair. He is about to turn sixty-seven, presuming he is still with us.

The other actor who was “introduced” in this film was Andy Davis as Taylor's father. Remark- ably, Davis was four years YOUNGER than Taylor, but I really must say that he pulled the casting off with considerable skill. Davis was twenty when he worked on the picture.

Davis had actually worked for a couple of years in the business prior to this as a guest star on Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C. and The Wild Wild West along with a role in the low-rent, awful, sci-fi flick Journey to the Center of Time (1967), which featured Scott Brady, Anthony Eisley and Gigi Perreau. He was to perform just one more tiny role after East in 1971's The Resurrection of Zachary Wheeler before sliding off the radar. He is currently sixty-two. He is my favorite performer in the film, thanks in no small part to the fact that his looks and build are exactly what I like (and scarce as all-get-out to find these days... everyone around me seems to fall into three categories now: gaunt, six-pack cut-or obese!)

When it came to titling this post (my pithy, punny titles either seem to come to me very easily or else I agonize over them), I had quite a few! I settled on the one I did because I wanted to try to use the word Dinah and because Dinah Shore also had some rumors about her, true or not, whether regarding her sexuality or her ethnicity. Some of the discarded ones include: “Help! I've Got an 'East' Infection,” “The Wild Wild 'East',” “Go 'East', Young Man” and “Let's Grab a Seat at the 24-Hour 'Dinah.” One imdb.com user had a great one, "Dinah Sore." Grateful as I am to the folks who put out the restored, wide-screen DVD (which is still of so-so quality thanks to the low-end original materials), it would be sensational for somebody to dig up this cast and get them to talk about it themselves!

Thursday, June 13, 2013

I'm About to Spring a Rod!

Today we celebrate another gentleman looonng overdue for a tribute here in The Underworld, the husky, handsome, Australian leading man and sometimes adventure hero Rod Taylor. Though primarily famous for two early-'60s films in particular, Mr. Taylor actually worked for half a century as a film and television actor and provided many diverse and entertaining performances. (Along with the usual movie stills and so forth, I'll be peppering this post along the way with delicious shirtless shots of Mr. T. whenever possible!)
Rodney Sturt Taylor came into the world on January 11th, 1930. His unusual middle name sprung from the last name of a great-great uncle (Charles Sturt), who was a noted explorer of the mysterious, sometimes punishing, rivers of untamed Australia. Taylor, always a fit and athletic young man, had some adventure in his blood through Sturt, but his parents also provided a dichotomy of focus in their own professions. His father was both a steel construction contractor and a commercial artist while his mother was a prolific short story writer and author of children's books. So a blend of the rugged and the fanciful came to him naturally.

Taylor attended a technical and fine arts college and intended to become a commercial artist like his father until fate stepped in. He attended a touring performance of Shakespeare with legendary leading man Laurence Olivier starring in it and it ignited an interest in acting in the young man. He began to find work in radio programs and auditioned for (and won) roles on the local stage. In between these gigs, he supported himself as a department store artist and display designer. He married for the first time in 1950 to a model named Peggy Williams.

Again, fate lent a hand to Taylor's career when producers were making a short film re-enacting Charles Sturt's river expeditions as part of a national celebration of 50 years as a Federation. Grant Taylor played Sturt while Charles “Bud” Tingwell was cast as his associate George Macleay. When Tingwell dropped out suddenly to take a role in the feature film Kangaroo (1952), Taylor was fortunate enough to win the part, though the other Taylor was playing his ancestor instead of him.

Scores of Australians saw this short film, though it didn't lead right away to further screen work. It took him until 1954 to debut in a feature film, that being King of the Coral Sea, ironically costarring Bud Tingwell! He portrayed an American in the Australian film, something he would do again and again later with ease. He won another role, Israel Hands in Long John Silver (1954) because the original actor Guy Doleman declined to grow a beard and wear special contact lenses. Grant Taylor, his costar from the Sturt short film, was in this, too, a testament to the tightly-knit circle of film actors in Australia at the time.

His talented, prolific work in radio won him an award whose prizes included a trip to London, but with a stopover in Los Angeles. Taylor made the stopover, but never proceeded to London! Instead he went to work on TV (on Studio 57 and Cheyenne) and landed small parts in movies such as The Virgin Queen, Hell on Frisco Bay (a very rare example of his playing a villain) and Top Gun (all 1955.) The writer of Frisco Bay had worked with Taylor on Long John Silver and created a role specifically for him in this movie. Also, he and Peggy had divorced in 1954.
In 1956, he had a supporting role in the sci-fi thriller World Without End as one of a team of astronauts who wind up in Earth's future in the wake of a nuclear war. He was then signed to a contract at MGM based upon his recent work in Hollywood. First up was the fondly remembered family drama The Catered Affair (1956) which starred Bette Davis (who'd been the star of The Virgin Queen), Ernest Borgnine, Barry Fitzgerald and, as Taylor's fiancee, Debbie Reynolds. While considered a minor classic now, the low-budget film actually lost money on initial release.
Now ensconced at MGM, Taylor found himself working in big-budget epic films with major stars. He had a small role as Elizabeth Taylor's brother-in-law in Giant (1956), a positively mammoth film that also featured Rock Hudson and James Dean among many others. Then, after pleading with studio bosses, he won a role in Raintree County (1957), which starred Montgomery Clift, Elizabeth Taylor, Eva Marie Saint and Lee Marvin. The expensive production was dealt a creative and financial blow when Clift nearly died in a severe car accident and lost money despite its popularity at the box office.

In 1958, he appeared in Separate Tables, but with Rita Hayworth, Deborah Kerr, David Niven, Burt Lancaster and Wendy Hiller leading the way, there wasn't much room for him to have a lot of impact. (His role wasn't even in the original stage play, but he was eager to be part of a prestige production such as this and so he took the inconsequential part.) he also kept busy working on several installments of Playhouse 90 and even an episode of The Twilight Zone.

Also in 1958, Taylor worked on Step Down to Terror, a rehashing of Hitchcock's Shadow of a Doubt (1943) that featured Charles Drake uncharacteristically playing a psychotic serial killer. Taylor and Drake would later be reunited in one of Taylor's most memorable movies, The Birds. 1959 brought Ask Any Girl, which starred Shirley MacLaine. Taylor was fourth-billed, but made enough of an impression to warrant (at last!) a starring role of his own. The movie would become his signature piece, one treasured by sci-fi and fantasy fans all over the world, even if parts of it come off as extraordinarily campy now.

Director George Pal, who specialized in fantasy films with eye-popping art direction and special effects, was putting together a cinematic adaptation of an H. G. Wells novel concerning an inventor who manages to create a device that takes him back and forth in time. The Time Machine (1960) was initially to feature a mature British star like Paul Scofield, Michael Rennie, David Niven or James Mason in the leading role, but ultimately (thanks to budgetary concerns along with a desire to have a more youthful, athletic lead) the relatively unknown Taylor won the part.

His character, a young Victorian gentleman of 1899 London, devises a contraption that transports him to the future (the far-flung future of 1966!) where man has only barely survived a nuclear holocaust. A lazy, noncommittal, blonde race of humans frolics amid lush greenery and rushing water while another strain of green mutants periodically attack and capture them. (This sort of scenario is not dissimilar to 1968's Planet of the Apes, a movie that Taylor was considered for prior to the casting of Charlton Heston – whose character was named “Taylor!”)

As one of the blonde females in particular who captures Taylor's attention, a newcomer named Yvette Mimieux was cast. Taylor had hoped to get Shirley Knight for the part, but grew to enjoy working with Mimieux who improved with each passing shot until the director Pal ultimately went back and redid some of her earliest scenes in order to improve the film and her performance in it.
Funny how, in this black and white shot, the “green” Morlocks look like just burly men who have a different head attached! Though, as I mentioned above, certain aspects of the movie are campy and unintentionally funny, the concept was a novel one at the time and the movie was a delight to audiences then and now. With it, Taylor proved he could handle the starring role in a complicated motion picture.
Still, true screen stardom eluded him for now. He journeyed to Italy to make the sword and sandal flick Colossus and the Amazon Queen (1960), in which he looked tremendously out of place (though no more than many other big stars who took on similar roles such as Rory Calhoun and Alan Ladd.)

He was given a TV series of his own, Hong Kong (1960-1961), which probably impeded what might have become a more important film career at this stage. He costarred with Lloyd Bochner, playing an investigative journalist to Bochner's chief of police. Next, he put his radio training to use by providing the voice of Pongo in Walt Disney's 101 Dalmatians (1961.)

His next starring role was in Seven Seas to Calais (1962), another Italian-made film distributed by MGM. In it, he played Sir Francis Drake (sporting a jaunty goatee) opposite Keith Michell and with Irene Worth as Queen Elizabeth I. While in Italy, he fell in with Swedish bombshell Anita Ekberg and the two were engaged, but the marriage never took place.

Instead, he married another model, Mary Hilem, in 1963 and they had a daughter, Felicia, the following year. (Felicia Taylor would later grow up to become a CNN business anchor and correspondent.) But 1963 was a big year for Taylor for other reasons as well. It marked the time of his other highly memorable role, Mitch Brenner in Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds.
For his follow-up to Psycho (1960), Hitchcock turned to a Daphne Du Maurier short story about seemingly unprovoked attacks on a coastal community by hordes of birds. He jettisoned most of the original story, opting instead to fashion a sophisticated romance that would be threatened by the birds. He envisioned Cary Grant and Grace Kelly in the lead roles. As Kelly was now Princess of Monaco and unable to take the role, newcomer Tippi Hedren was groomed for it instead and Taylor was cast as her love interest.

Taylor's character was a San Francisco attorney who ventures home on weekends to Bodega Bay where his widowed mother, little sister and ex-girlfriend all reside. When Hedren arrives unexpectedly to pull a prank on him, it coincidentally seems to signal the beginning of horrible unrest amongst the avian population of the town.

With increasing ferocity, the seagulls, crows and other bird species begin pecking away at the townspeople while Taylor has his hands full with the women surrounding him. There is more to be found here about The Birds and here about Miss Hedren for those interested in reading more about them.
Incidentally, I've always thought that Rod's outfit in the latter part of the movie, a white oxford with army green cargo pants and brown boots, was strikingly classic and contemporary, fitting for every era from then to now!  I don't know if Edith Head worked on that look or if it was something he and Hitch decided upon.
The Birds was only one of four releases that featured Taylor in 1963, however. He also costarred with Rock Hudson in A Gathering of Eagles, playing an old war buddy of his who eventually comes into conflict with him (and comes close to having an affair with his wife, Mary Peach, though the affair was cut from the final print.)

There was also the glossy, multi-star drama The V.I.Ps, which featured Richard Burton, Elizabeth Taylor, Louis Jourdan, Maggie Smith, Orson Welles, Margaret Rutherford and Linda Christian. The bulk of his scenes were with Smith and Christian and, remarkably, this was the very first time in his movie career that Taylor was permitted to play an Australian character! He augmented his dialogue slightly in order to depict the character's home accent.

His final film of this year was the cutesy sex comedy Sunday in New York, which costarred Cliff Robertson and Jane Fonda. Fonda was playing a twenty-two year-old virgin with Taylor one of her potential lovers (Robert Culp being another.) Based on a stage play, Taylor's role had been played by Robert Redford during the original Broadway run. Jane doesn't seem to be admiring the correct scenery here!

In 1964, he played an airline pilot suspected of causing a fatal plane crash through his drinking habit in Fate is the Hunter. Glenn Ford starred as one of Taylor's old friends who endeavors to see his reputation cleared up. Many other stars dotted the cast list including Suzanne Pleshette (of The Birds), Nancy Kwan, Dorothy Malone, Wally Cox and Jane Russell.

Another very busy year came in 1965 when Taylor figured into a wide variety of movies. There was 36 Hours, which placed him with James Garner and his old Raintree County costar Eva Marie Saint. In it, he played a German intelligence officer posing as a U.S. psychiatrist in order to extract top secret information from U.S. army major Garner, who is being put through a complicated and elaborate hoax. The film's concept would be cribbed and used in many later TV shows.

A considerable opportunity came with Young Cassidy, the story of Irish playwright Sean O'Casey, but the trouble-plagued production wound up being only marginally successful. Richard Harris had been set to star, but departed, allowing Sean Connery to inherit the lead. However, he had to leave to honor his contract for Thunderball, so – as had happened so many times in the past – Taylor won the role.
Then the director, the legendary John Ford, fell ill and production shut down for a couple of weeks. Cinematographer Jack Cardiff took over, but Siobhan McKenna was lost in the interim, to be replaced by Sian Phillips. Then O'Casey himself (who did approve of Taylor's casting) died before the film was finished! Taylor was reunited with Maggie Smith for this as well as paired with a young Julie Christie, who would break out that same year with both Darling and Doctor Zhivago.

Two more 1965 films were still to come, Do Not Disturb was one in a considerable line of Doris Day confections, this one featuring Taylor and Day as an American couple relocating to England who encounter cultural hurdles and a variety of screwball marital misunderstandings and complications.
His fourth film of the year was actually held for release until 1966 because of legal wranglings. It was first in what was conceived to be a series of films, ala James Bond, but ended up being a one shot. The Liquidator had him playing a British intelligence agent named Boysie Oakes (a part that was offered first to Richard Harris.) Oddly, Taylor had by now become so familiar with acting using an American accent that he opted to do so here as well, even when playing an Englishman! This was helmed by his Young Cassidy director Jack Cardiff.  Jill St. John costarred.
1966 brought another, better and more successful, re-teaming with Doris Day in The Glass Bottom Boat. Filmed partly on and around Catalina Island, he played a research scientist who becomes involved with Day just as she is being investigated by an overzealous security chief (played memorably by Paul Lynde) as a potential Soviet spy! This second pairing of the stars revealed a more relaxed and comfortable chemistry between them and the movie took in double its budget.
He played the lead in an all-star adaptation of a popular Arthur Hailey novel in 1967's Hotel. As Peter McDermott, manager of the (fictional) St. Gregory Hotel in New Orleans, Louisiana, he was acting alongside most of the other performers including Melvyn Douglas, Karl Malden, Kevin McCarthy, Catherine Spaak, Michael Rennie, Merle Oberon and Merle Oberon's hair. Years later, James Brolin would play the same part in the successful TV series Hotel (1983-1988.)
Taylor, now thirty-seven sought to augment his image to that of a more rugged, adventuresome type and to that end began to produce his own film projects. First up was Chuka (1967), a western about troubled souls at a remote army fort that is in danger of attack from Arapahoe Indians. With a cast that included Sir John Mills, Ernest Borgnine, James Whitmore and Luciana Paluzzi, it promised a bit more than it delivered, was perhaps more trouble than it was worth and, in the end, Taylor chose not to produce again. Certainly, that awful title didn't help (which was pronounced “Chuck-a.”)

A truly great adventure film was next in line for him, though, with Dark of the Sun (1968.) He played a mercenary hired to head into the Belgian Congo in order to rescue the mostly European residents of a remote town. He's been hired to do that, but actually has his eye on $50 million worth of diamonds that are located in a mining company's vault. Along on the mission are his old buddy, the towering Jim Brown, an alcoholic doctor Kenneth More and a vicious former Nazi (Peter Carsten) who provides expert skill in performing the tasks at hand.

Things hit a snag when the train the rescuers are on (which has already picked up recent widow Yvette Mimieux, by now a star in her own right) is delayed in order for the time-locked safe to be relieved of its diamonds. This allows Simbanese rebels the chance to descend upon them in a grisly attack. Later, an infamous fight involving a chainsaw raised eyebrows among critics and audiences.
Once again and for the final time, Taylor was directed by Jack Cardiff, whose terrific career as a cinematographer ensured that the movie had strong visual appeal along with its exciting story. Though the movie was compelling and impressively vivid, it was lambasted at the time for its depiction of violence and torment (some of it sexual in nature.) This makes viewing the film now a somewhat startling occasion since it was much ahead of its time on such counts. Martin Scorsese and Quentin Tarantino are but two of the current directors who have cited the movie as a favorite (and Cardiff proclaimed that the violence and savagery he depicted was but a sixteenth of what was actually occurring in that area at the time.)

In 1968's Nobody Runs Forever he played an Australian policeman in London to bring Christopher Plummer (the Australian High Commissioner, The High Commissioner later serving as a re-title of the movie) back to face a recently-discovered twenty-five year-old murder charge. Plummer brooks no resistance, but requests a delay of a few days because of some sensitive peace negotiations set to take place. The glamorous cast also included Lilli Palmer, Camilla Sparv, Daliah Lavi and Daliah Lavi's hair. (Make no mistake, I LOVE the 1960s' hair that Lavi and, earlier in this post, Oberon were sporting!)

His last film of the year was The Hell with Heroes, an African-set WWII drama that paired him with curvaceous beauty Claudia Cardinale and also starred Harry Guardino, Kevin McCarthy (of Hotel) and Peter Duel. The inexpensively mounted film took advantage of a contract with Universal he'd signed in 1962, promising one more picture and is rarely screened in the U.S. today.

He managed to get involved with director Michelangelo Antonioni (then white-hot from Blowup, 1966) in his next enterprise, the one and only film Antonioni made in America, Zabriskie Point, but the protracted project, riddled with issues, didn't see release until 1970 and was a massive failure. It cost $7 million and brought in $1 million. Only many years later did some folks begin to appreciate the cinematography and use of music, but no one has really ever expressed any appreciation for the storyline or the acting, involving sexy teens and a stolen airplane in the Arizona desert.

In the meantime of filming Heroes and seeing the release of Zabriskie, Taylor's marriage to Mary disintegrated. He would remain single until 1980 when he married for a third and final time. Another 1970 film was Darker Than Amber, an adaptation of a novel concerning an investigator for hire who becomes unintentionally embroiled in a murder attempt and a prostitution ring. Also on board were Suzy Kendall, Theodore Bikel, Janet MacLachlan and, in her final movie role, Jane Russell. Taylor was still showing off some chest (and look at the amusing shot below with his gymmies and a flash of undies!)
A climactic fight scene between Taylor and handsome William Smith turned real when one of them accidentally struck the other and the one on the receiving end retaliated. The two men (who've never revealed which one started the “true” fight) began pummelling each other with fists (and teeth!) flying and real blood flowing! This violent scene has made the movie a cult favorite in some circles though there is no full, original, American print to be found.

A lighter project, but decidedly not a better one, was the British comedy The Man Who Had Power Over Women, which cast Taylor as an Australian talent agent who must not only grapple with a troublesome rock group, but an unhappy marriage and an affair with his best friend's wife (played by Carol White.)

Taylor had been solely a movie star and had not acted on American TV since 1962's The DuPont Show of the Week, but in the wake of these lackluster movies he must have felt it was time to try another series. The show was an adventure series called Bearcats! in which he and towheaded Dennis Cole played 1914 soldiers of fortune in the American southwest, taking on various jobs in a Stutz Bearcat. The fondly-recalled 1971 series only lasted 14 episodes before being cancelled.

He filmed a movie of the week called Family Flight in which he, alcoholic wife Dina Merrill and troubled son Kristopher Tabori crash their private plane in the desert and have to work together to survive the ordeal. Next, he teamed up with John Wayne in The Train Robbers, though most of the attention in that one went to a young and curvy Ann-Margret.

A cheapjack version of Trader Horn (1973) was compared quite unfavorably to the 1931 original and costarred Anne Heywood, Jean Sorel and Don Knight (who had also been in Taylor's The Hell with Heroes.) That same year, he costarred with a man who had so often been first choice for the roles he played, Richard Harris, in the rugged outdoor drama The Deadly Trackers. It was practically the first villainous role he'd played since first entering films in the 1950s! The two played antagonists with former-pacifist Harris out to get Taylor for killing his family.

A variety of lesser-known international productions followed until he made another stab at a television series. This time, in The Oregon Trail, he played a pioneer widower who is taking his three children (one of them played by cute Andrew Stevens) to a new life out west via a wagon train.

In one ep, Andrews Stevens' mother Stella guest-starred, sporting uncharacteristically dark hair! Like Bearcats!, it only lasted 14 episodes before being cancelled.

In 1979, he joined a handful of other stars whose “best if sold by” date had either been met or was fast approaching in Jamaican Gold. He, Stuart Whitman, Elke Sommer, Jeremy Kemp and Keenan Wynn figured into the low-budget diving for treasure drama. He then married for the third and final time in 1980 to Carol Kikumura (shown here), who he remains wed to today.

Several TV-movies followed including Cry of the Innocent (1980), with a weathered looking Taylor and Joanna Pettet in dual roles (and looking quite annoying in this photo!), Hellinger's Law (1981), an unsold Telly Savalas pilot, and Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy (1981) in which he played the father of Jaclyn Smith who was starring as Mrs. Kennedy.

A couple more movies came about in the early-'80s. A Time to Die (1982) had him playing with Rex Harrison, Edward Albert and Raf Vallone in a story about a WWII veteran avenging the death of his wife at the hands of the Nazis. On the Run (1983) cast him as a shady businessman whose young nephew is forced to flee some hit men with Paul Winfield. He was also one of the stars cast in support of the leads in Charles & Diana: A Royal Love Story (1982.)

1983 brought still another attempt at a regular series, Masquerade, about a spy organization that recruited civilians who were deemed helpful for a particular mission, with Taylor as the head of it. (Think Mission: Impossible, but with everyday people in place of most of the agents.) His young costars were Kirstie Alley and Greg Evigan and, similar to his previous efforts, this one was toast after thirteen episodes.

After a Canadian-made thriller called Mask of Murder (1985) with Christopher Lee and Valerie Perrine, Taylor made yet another TV series. Outlaws starred him as an 1886 sheriff who, along with four bad guys he'd been pursuing, is catapulted through time to 1986! His casting recalled the fact that he'd made his first big mark in The Time Machine, but the show just couldn't find a large enough audience and was canned after eleven episodes.

Perhaps feeling it would be better to simply join an existing successful show than try to mount his own, he became part of Falcon Crest's sizable cast in 1988 and indeed spent thirty episodes there, longer than any of his own shows had ever individually lasted. He stayed there until almost the end of the series' run in 1990.

Occasional projects came along from TV-movies like Palomino (1991) which reunited him with Eva Marie Saint once more, a few appearances on Murder, She Wrote and a recurring role on Walker, Texas Ranger. In 1997, he costarred with Jonathan Schaech in the Outback-set film Welcome to Woop-Woop. He then retired around 2000 after a two-part episode of Walker.

He was lured out of retirement in 2007 to take a role in the tacky horror movie Caw, about flesh-eating ravens, no doubt thanks to his association with The Birds. That might have been his final movie, but thank Jesus it was not. Quentin Tarantino, who'd been a fan of his ever since Dark of the Sun, contacted him about appearing as Winston Churchill in his movie Inglourious Basterds (2009.) Taylor resisted, citing Albert Finney as a more apt choice, but Tarantino persisted until he got his man. Thus, Taylor took the part and avoided something like Caw representing his movie swan song.
Presumably happily retired to, first, Los Angeles, then, New York City with his wife of over thirty years, Carol, Mr. Taylor can look back on a considerable career in which his charming, charismatic personality, often-rugged, forthright persona and delicious barrel chest has pleased countless fans over the years. He is now eighty-three and, unless some other terrific opportunity comes along, is most likely content to enjoy his well-deserved retirement.