Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Without her there may not have been. . . .
I heard someone say today, "Who was Shirley Temple?"
Well, she was a little girl.  She grew up to be a lovely person with a family.  She had a mother and father that loved her very much and brothers and a home.  Her father was a banker.  He didn't try to run her career.  Mrs. Temple was good to this little child, she did not push her into the business and her interest was that of a mother who loved her little child with all her heart and soul.  In the 30's you hear of stage mothers but Mrs. Temple was a person who saw a baby that loved music.  In Shirley's autobiography she tells how her mother played pretty music and kept flowers and things of beauty around the house so she would have a little girl.  Shirley already had brothers.  She was the baby and from the moment she could stand or support herself on her crib she danced.  She wiggled.  We see this in all our babies, the first time they react to something and smile.  Her mother saw a child that needed an outlet for energy and got her in dance class.
She was discovered by a small studio and did short films -- it was the only time she recalls any abuse as a child--punishment for a mistake was locking the child in a closet.  Her relationship with her mother was such that when she told her what happened her mother put a stop to it.  No threat that her child would 'never work in films again' deterred Mrs. Temple.  Fine, no films, but you will not harm or scare my child.  Period.  Her mother made all her little costumes and stayed close and kept Shirley secure.
Then she was discovered by Fox.   In the depression the only studios doing 'well' were MGM and Warners.  Fox was not but Shirley saved that studio.  Her films made people happy, it took them away from whatever fears they had and encouraged them.

Another thing I heard today was her films are racist or dated.  They only show black people as slaves or beneath the whites in her films. This is not true.  Bill Robinson was the GREATEST tap dancer that ever lived.  He shared with Shirley a great love for dance, treated her like a equal and was so proud of her.  She didn't count her steps--she was too little.  She listened.  And no one could dance better together than her and Bill.
And hey, he bought Shirley her very first car.  She was the terror of the studio until someone put a muffler on it.  It was no longer fun after that.  Her parents taught her that there was no color when it came to people.  She lived that way her whole life, as an ambassador, as a person, as a parent.  Her films, if anything, show equality and the goodness that is there, deep down, when a child loves someone.
This is probably my favorite image of Shirley.  It is not a publicity photo taken by a big studio.  Her parents had it taken like all parents do, when they want a memory of their baby and put it in a frame to keep that moment always.  A little smock, a pretty bow in her hair and that beautiful, solemn face.  Twinkle, Shirley.  You are a star now and forever.

Friday, January 3, 2014

I've Been Watching Joan Crawford Since 8pm Yesterday....
I am astonished.
Not that I haven't been amazed by her before, she is dazzling.  Especially in her younger days.  Not just some Moon face with lots of makeup and tulle.
Ok, so she's wearing a lot of makeup.  Without it she was pretty, too.
No makeup.  Oh, you're thinking she abused her kids, what a horrible person.  So they say.  I was abused as a child. I was beaten up at night for no reason except I was in the same house with my stepmother.  She hit me with brooms across my back, screamed abuse and all that stuff.  I can smell a fake when I see one, someone who is luxuriating in the interest and sympathy.  Christine Crawford had her issues with her mother and has been as honest as she saw it.  I wasn't there.  I do love the talent this woman had and I guess I will leave it at that.
As I sat and watched everything from "The Unknown" with the GREAT Lon Chaney Sr to "Laughing Sinners", sound and silent, I can not believe the work this woman did.  Today's actresses /actors seem to complain if they work more than 2 movies back to back.  Imagine being in your office, not only doing your job, but the next persons and the next persons and even the manager.  She did every type of part.  From the ones she is known for--the campy ones--to these delicate parts where she is with Clark Gable and she's the star.  Imagine that no one knew who that guy with the big ears was???  But she glows. And every kind of part, from circus performer to taxi dancer, to wealthy, to very poor.  Not just one type but all types.  And she worked until she was well past the age she could stop because she loved it.
And yes, she loved the attention she got, too.
This little kid--her father gone when she was very little and her mother working here and there, and always telling her that her brother was so much better than she was.  Joan paid for their lives with the work she did.  No wonder she scrubbed her own floors and raised her kids to do chores and get a backbone.  She danced on stage, and went to Hollywood and by baby steps became a big star.  She did what she had to, to become a Star.
When she won her Oscar she was home in bed.  She said she was sick.  I think she was scared.
She never neglected her fans, or her family.  Just before she died she gave away her beloved dog, a little poodle, because she knew it was the end and she didn't want her baby to be placed with someone that would be any less loving than she was.
And did you think this would be a brutal, critical thing?  No.
I love Joan Crawford.  January on TCM will be a good month--she's on every Thursday night.  Take in some films.  It's a lot of fun and and maybe you will love her, too.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Big Otto - My Love for Roscoe Arbuckle

I spent a good part of yesterday afternoon watching my dvd set, "The Forgotten Films of Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle.  I am so grateful to the Laughsmith and Mackinaw Media for producing this amazing collection. I have owned it about eight years, and I have watched it over and over and over.  What a lovely, lovely, man he was.  Do you remember only one thing about Roscoe?  That he was somehow involved in the death of a woman?  Labor Day Weekend 1921 was when Roscoe decided to go to San Francisco -- he should have taken Buster Keaton up on the trip on his boat.  
There are quite a few things I love about Roscoe.  He was not fat--he was STRONG.  In truth, his weight was never really out of control, he was amazing.  He swam like a fish--there is a story about him swimming with dolphins and I can believe that!  There is a photo of him diving--he had wings in the water.
He loved his dog-- and his dog was brilliant.
That is Buster Keaton, Roscoe, (his friends never called him Fatty), Luke, and Al St. John his nephew and a brilliant comedian himself!
I think the best of his shorts (and this is my opinion) is "Coney Island" and any of his Keystones.  I love "Coney Island" because it shows the amusement park as it was in the teens, a warm place where people had fun.
Just a taste--go to You Tube to see the rest.  He is the BEST cross dresser of the silent era, although Buster and Charlie Chaplin are a close second.  I think that Roscoe was a person who was in love with the world until the world turned against him.
He doesn't just move in his films, he floats. Louise Brooks said dancing with Roscoe was like floating in the center  (I may miss-quote) giant donut.  He was tender with his friends, and so kind.  Look, I may only have read about him, and seen his films, but you see, his friends never forgot what a good person he was.  Buster Keaton defended him til the day he died.  "Roscoe could not have done this thing," Chaplin said the day he was told about the arrest.
A girl did die, Virginia Rappe.  She was a actress, she attended a party in Roscoe's suite at the hotel in San Francisco.  Her bladder ruptured and she died of peritonitis several days later.  At the time, people believed the papers, the news.  What they said had to be the truth?  Right?  No.  It was proven, after a fashion that Roscoe was innocent and free of all blame.  Will Hayes had him banned from film.  Women's Groups were very influential then.  VERY.  One time, Roscoe was just out, I forget if it was a movie or a premiere.  One of a crowd of these crows said, "Women, do your duty!" and they spat on him.
Children loved Roscoe's films.  Women loved him.  I love him, I love his wide smile, and his blue eyes, although I have never seen a color photo of him, I still love those lovely eyes.
When Roscoe lost his career, his friends helped him.  Buster Keaton gave him part of his income, he directed.  Paul Gierucki said he was a brilliant director, and from what I've seen of the collection of films I have he was good.  This is my favorite photo of Roscoe.
This was a happy day.  Even Buster was smiling!  The sun was warm on their heads.  A carefree day, a day that everything went right.  You ever see three happier men?

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

I'm In Love With Ned Sparks....
What the hell is she talking about, you may ask?  Who is Ned Sparks?  Good grief, is your head in the sand?  He's a HUNKASAURAUS REX!  And darned cute, too!
He had a voice somewhere between a leaky drainpipe and a frog with high pitch.  Low key, sarcastic, always frowning (although not in this photo!) and once in a while appearing to be the only person who really knows what is going on.  I guess I fell in love with him when I saw him in the 1934 version of "Imitation of Life".   He was in Mary Pickford's last film, "Secrets" and was wonderful, intense, a wonderful proof of what a fine actor he was.   Barney in "Goldiggers of 1933" and "42nd St".  Every sweet story needs a Ned Sparks.  As food does not taste good without salt, a good musical needs something to flavor it.  As I glanced through his credits I found he was in my favorite musical of all time, "Going Hollywood"!


Who stands out?  Ned does.  Sure Bing Crosby can sure sing a tune, and M-G-M can really stage 'em, but look at Ned!!  He's the whole scene...ok, in my opinion.  And sexy?  Who needs these so-called cute guys nowadays?  Not me.  I want Ned.  What a guy!  Who needs adorable when you got character?

Just a little to whet the appetite.  For once we have a hero that knows how to tell 'em where to go and how to get there!  He lights up the room.  And sometimes, during a program film like those Busby Berkeley films seemed to be, Ned is the one and only person (with perhaps the exception of Guy Kibbee and Bebe Daniels) who makes the film REAL and takes it out of the fluffy fantasy that a lot of the musicals of the period seem to be.  Ned has that down the nose look DOWN.  Right down and BOOM!  Drops a bomb on 'em.  Even Walt Disney knew there was a magnificent opportunity to animate the man.  From a guy that was so still, so damned smart and sassy, and probably one of the greatest characters we will always love and enjoy.  You just rock, Ned.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Quantum Leap and Giving Thanks

I don't give a hang for Thanksgiving.  That is, the eatabigmealgettotallyfullandsleepallafternoon, Thanksgiving. Most certainly I think that it's become a holiday for anticipation of not Christmas, but that Black Friday jazz that I find not only herd mentality, but a disgusting and rather in your face way for the retailers to milk every buck out of the holiday season.  And the gullible shoppers who seem to think saving a dollar ninety-five on a Barbie Dreamhouse is going to get them into Heaven.
No.  It will not.
What Thanksgiving should be about is simple. Giving Thanks.  I am thankful for my best friend Beth, my family, who are quite far away, and my cats, Chaney, Olivia, and most of all, Archer.  Oh he is so darned cute.  And no, I will not put up some barfy video of how adorable he was as a baby....
Well, maybe I will....




Now wasn't that delightful?  And I couldn't find the baby vid so I have this one which was about 2 months ago.
As most know, I've been in love with a tv show and an actor on that show for nigh on twenty years.  Quantum Leap had a terrific Thanksgiving episode, "Leap Home".  Sam, who is alone, travelling in time, leaps back to his childhood home in 1969.  The guy jumped in his own time machine to prove it worked and ended up exiled in his own lifetime for pretty much the rest of the series.  There are many things that put this show above all others but the one I must point out the most is, here is Sam Beckett, the ultimate man without a country.  There is no comfort in being alone in time, setting right what something or someone made wrong. And the holidays seem pretty important to him, as this episode illustrates.  There are several things he can set right--save his brother's life by keeping him from leaving for Vietnam, saving his fathers life by changing his unhealthy lifestyle, and keeping his little sister from marrying Chuck, an abusive drunk.  Does he succeed in doing these things?  Yes and no, that remains to be seen.  It is a story about being with a family for Thanksgiving and being grateful, in the long run, for having this second chance to be with them.  In the end, as his friend Al says how he would like to have another moment with his father and sister and Sam should be grateful that whoever is leaping him around is giving him the great gift of being with them again.

 If I get a little miserable missing my Mom or my Dad I think about how lucky I am that I live in a warm apartment, three cats and a best friend who is constantly reminding me how much she loves me, and plenty of food and a JOB.  I belong to a church that I love.
And, as Beth (my best friend) pointed out today and over and over again, if it wasn't for Sam and Al we might never have been friends.
Now I will go back to blogging about my actors and things--but be happy with what you have--Happy Thanksgiving!
Why We Should Care About Wally Reid....

He outlived a tornado that hit St. Louis in 1896.   He was a writer, a skilled director, and subtle actor.  I've seen very little of his work.  And it's sad.  He has this wonderful face, deep set eyes, a light smile.  He sort of glows from photographs taken of him.
Why am I so crazy about dead actors?  Is there something wrong with me?  Wally, in particular, shines and seems so alive.  He had a pretty modern way of acting, he was natural and had a really wonderful glow from within that comes with confidence, and a family brought him up to be proud of himself and his achievements. He had a strong marriage and a young family.  
I'm not a biographer, I just know a little about him. A lot of his pictures go VERY FAST-about cars and speed.  He was athletic and handsome.   I know he was in a picture with Gloria Swanson, "The Affairs of Anatol"--
You can see in this photo something is wrong with Wally.  He was only thirty when he died.  He did a movie called "The Valley of the Giants".  There was a train accident and he had a head injury. Instead of making sure he was taken and given the best medical care, he was stitched up, and, in time, given morphine so he could finish the film.  He finished it and the addiction which led to alcohol and other drugs, finished Wally.  (Wow!  I just had a Kenneth Anger moment...and if you don't get that reference, I sentence you to a week of staring at Hollywood Babylon.  That's punishment for anyone!)  When he was hospitalized for his addiction it was too late.   I'm sure what I'm proudest of is that he did die clean.  He refused the morphine that they would use to 'wean' him off the stuff.  He was clean, he was gonna stay clean.  And he died.
This was taken just before he had his last illness.  Why am I focusing on his death and not his film career?  Well, I'm feeling pretty blue, and had this book about Wally I read from time to time.  Maybe he was nudging me to say a few words about him, to let people know he existed and was a good person.  You see from the smile in the photo above he loved his family.  The drugs in the silent days were nefarious ... they were a stronger cut.  Mabel Normand dealt with it, Lottie and Jack Pickford.  A little went a long way and they were not expensive.  Some were even sold over the counter.   I doubt that Paramount purposely addicted Wally to the morphine.  He was their moneymaker and by golly, he had to finish that film so he could do the next, and the next.  No one learned a lesson from it except to work harder to cover up things neatly if there is an issue with drugs and a celebrity.
Dorothy, Wally's wife, made a movie about drugs, "Human Wreckage".  Like ninety percent of silent film, it is lost to the ravages of Nitrate Doesn't Wait.  Rotted and gone and probably not remembered much except that it graphically showed addiction at it's lowest.  In my heart Wally still glows very nicely, thank you.
He died about ninety years ago.  If he stepped onto a screen now he would still be stunning.  We should care about Wally Reid because he was the first actor who was brave enough to want his addiction publicized.   Because his death was a true tragedy in a time of innocence.  We like to think the silent era was this sparkling time of dancing and parties and larger than life personalities but it had it's dark side, too.  How Wally tried to beat that darkness is a story one should try to read.  E.J. Fleming wrote a terrific book about Wally and his life.  If you even think of reading this or that book or even glancing around the net for a few things of his, you have given Wally the one thing he should have--a lingering affection for a sweet, long-lost boy.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Love, Life, and Laughter

Dear Doug Fairbanks,
You wrote a book once telling all your secrets of life, to be happy, to love your friends, to keep your life clean and whole and all will be well.  Isn't that so?  Do you know I've been a fan of yours long before I had seen one of your movies?  You have this glow about you, strength, confidence,  Sure could use some confidence.  
When fall comes I think of you often.  The trees are ablaze with color, brilliant blue sky.  This really, really fresh air that you want to be a part of.  They say you made people feel that way when you entered a room and when you left all the glow went with you.  To be that supremely happy and giving must be a joy to you in Heaven now.  Maybe God has you greet the film fans when they come up so they don't worry so much about what they left.  What a wonderful ambassador you would have made.  
Douglas, did you have any idea that people would think of you after you died?  Certainly, your friends would.  

Your dearest friend was Charlie.  You two were great buddies, shared secrets and business.  You, with Mary Pickford, DW Griffith, and others formed the United Artists, which is the very first company for the actor, by the actor.  There was a lot more there than a quick grin and a witty quip.  You were clever, and protective and all the things they write about you.  
Well, I love you, Doug.  To see you fling yourself across a screen makes my heart soar.  Watch this--feel your heart soar!
I suppose I should have picked this one, but "A Modern Musketeer" is my favorite of your earlier pictures.  It shows the kind of man a girl would like, clean, full of joy of life, confidence, and a dreamer.  You'd exhaust a lesser man and did many times.  Oh we have all these so-called 'stars' now, none of which I'll mention, but none with your verve, your sparkle.   Or your good looks.  My goodness, if you suggested some of the tumbles you took (the ones your stunt man didn't do!) they'd scream for their union!  
I sure hope you don't mind me visiting you where you rest in Hollywood.  It's quiet there, and very pretty.  Just over the wall the Paramount studio still thrives, buzzing with activity and the energy that you so thrived on!  I love you very much, Douglas.  I love the thought of you, a man so full of movement and life.  You may have been the greatest egotist but who cares?  What I wouldn't have given to meet you.  Your voice would ring out--yes, he did have a voice.  He had a lovely voice.
Dear Doug as as the last drop of fall wrings its way to the Earth, I think of you today.  Mary Pickford, the wife you loved, said, "He was an arrow in full flight."  Surely that is the best way to describe you.  An arrow that went through the air and met it's target every single time.