CAST AWAYS: Part VII

Rita Hayworth throws herself into the bullring and takes

down Tyrone Power in Blood and Sand.

Blood and Quicksand


In the Golden Era, the battle of Stars vs. the Studios was a constantly waged and painstakingly contained one. A star could use his or her box-office power to get away with a lot of things that the top dogs would otherwise refer to as "deviant behavior," but the moguls too had ways of getting their performers to toe the line. One method was "career threat." When a celebrity got too pushy or started to go too far, another, younger actor would be presented-- one who was almost a double of the alleged offender. This was the studio's way of saying: "Go ahead. Misbehave. There are plenty of people waiting to take your place." This ominous warning would often cause whatever diva was having a tantrum to back down. It was but one of many games in the dog-eat-dog world of Hollywood, where biting the hand that feeds was the appetizer de rigueur. Victims and villains were hard to tell apart: moguls thought that they were betrayed by the childish, narcissistic stars they had helped to create, and stars thought that they were abused, overworked, and under-appreciated by the greedy men behind the metaphorical curtain. In such an environment, if you weren't a business mastermind, it was often hard to keep your head above water. Suffice it to say, there were rarely winners, and mostly losers.

Carole Landis (left) was one of the many who played the game and lost, though her complete victimization by the system is not up for debate. An actress who was very far from the accepted cinematic Drama Queen, Carole was selfless, friendly, and hard-working. This did not, however, leave her free from punishment. Just being a woman in Hollywood was burden enough on its own. When Carole was signed at Twentieth-Century Fox, she quickly became accustomed to this fact. Early in her career, her beauty, singing talent, and natural charisma in front of the camera made her a prime pawn of actress intimidation. Low on the totem pole, Carole wasn't immediately given leading roles, for her box-office power hadn't been tested. Thus, her presence was used to intimidate other actresses-- whom she resembled in some respect-- and keep them in line. Alice Faye and Betty Grable were two unenthusiastic recipients of this maneuver. Her presence reminded them of their own career vulnerability. Carole, of course, was innocent of these studio machinations, and merely used whatever opportunity she had to better her standing and hone her acting skills. Slowly, with the help of the publicity machine and the public's growing attentions, Carole found her popularity rising. She gained a little position and started using it. Thus, she in turn found herself being equally intimidated by other actresses, some of whom snagged plum roles right out from under her.

A favorite beauty that Zanuck loved to use against Carole was Rita Hayworth (right), who was signed at rival studio Columbia Pictures. Zanuck's disdain for Carole had nothing to do with her professionalism and everything to do with her refusal to go to bed with him. After an initial affair, Carole put her foot down and claimed her independence, refusing to be further manipulated or taken advantage of. Zanuck thereafter went about trying to destroy her career, finding that nursing a bruised ego was more important than cashing in on a viable, talented asset. When a remake of Blood and Sand was presented to Fox for production, Carole was a front-runner for the role of Dona Sol, and she wanted it badly. But, instead of giving Carole a rich part that she could really sink her teeth into, not to mention one that could help to further her career, Zanuck paid Harry Cohn five times Rita Hayworth's salary to borrow her on loan-out for the role. He would commit the exact same crime when My Gal Sal was filmed, though Carole was allowed to remain in this picture. However, that time around she was forced to play a minor role beneath her stature, still under the starring Rita Hayworth. Rita, like Carole, was not guilty of any malevolence. In fact, the two had a lot in common, and were simply sweet women stuck in a rotten game. Today, it is hard to imagine anyone else beside Rita playing the seductive and heartless Dona Sol opposite Tyrone Power's toreador, but with Carole's equal talent and sex appeal, it makes one yearn for what could have been had she landed the part. The reason for the final outcome had less to do with perfect casting, and more to do with the fact that-- between the two of them-- the sensitive Rita was more apt to do as she was told. Carole??? She had less of a problem speaking her mind.


Love Me or Leave Me? Given the option...

Speaking of feisty women and toreadors, Hollywood's favorite She-Wolf, Ava Gardner, didn't take too kindly to orders. She too had had her fill of harsh studio treatment, and after playing nice for many years, she was no longer in the mood to sit back and do as she was told. After an arduous shoot on The Barefoot Contessa and an enduring, tumultuous marriage to Frank Sinatra, Ava now found herself in the hospital suffering severe pangs from kidney stones. MGM ordered her back to work starting on Love Me or Leave Me, but Ava was having none of it. For starters, they were ignoring her illness, claiming that she was "faking it," which ticked her off. Then, they offered her a part in a biopic musical (about the life of Ruth Etting) in which her voice would certainly be dubbed, which ticked her off more. After the humiliation of singing her heart out in Show Boat (left) only to have her voice replaced by Annette Warren, Ava was not about to go through an embarrassing repetition. She refused, mostly because she didn't like lip-syncing and looking like "a goddamn goldfish." At her wit's end emotionally and physically, she said "hell no" and headed for Europe, leaving the way free and clear for Doris Day, for whom co-star James Cagney had been enthusiastically rallying. Doris was known up to now as a pretty, ever-smiling songstress, but this role allowed her to indulge in her underutilized talents. The depth and pain she gave to her interpretation opened a lot of eyes, though she would rarely get this serious again. She soon after hit her stride in romantic comedies opposite the likes of Rock Hudson. As for Ava, she preferred Spain... and its bullfighters.

James Cagney fought to have Doris Day star opposite him in 

Love Me or Leave Me. He chose a perfect sparring partner, and the duo

 produced some poignant and painful scenes together.

Opportunity Always Rings Twice

The hot and heavy film noir masterpiece The Postman Always Rings Twice, whose success depended very much upon the chemistry of its leading characters, could have been a very different film. Originally, Joel McCrea was offered the role of Frank Chambers. However, Joel was always very astute about his career and his star persona, and he turned the role down, not thinking himself right for it. So, the offer was given to the darker, more rugged John Garfield, who was ecstatic at the opportunity. Unfortunately, just as filming was about to begin, WWII came roaring onto the scene, and John backed out of the film to fight overseas. Then, John was refused entree into the service because of his heart condition. Deeply upset, he felt that he had missed out on two golden opportunities: the role of a lifetime and the chance of a lifetime to serve his country. Luckily, MGM offered him the role again, and this time Chambers was his. This was a fortunate result. The steamy connection between John and Lana Turner (together, right) remains one of the most romantic and dangerous cinematic couplings of all time. Becoming thick thieves and pals behind the scenes helped them to create a trusting and relaxed environment, which left them free to explode on the screen. Joel McCrea could certainly hold his own with the ladies, but his boy-next-door, "aw' shucks" persona did not have the same edge nor sexual dynamism of Garfield. John would recall this film as one of his favorites, and his partnership with Lana did not end when the filming stopped: they remained lifelong friends.


Queen Kong???

When Merian C. Cooper embarked on his now iconic adventure film, King Kong, he had a clear vision. From the outlandish story to the bold and fascinating new special effects that he intended to use, he was determined to create an incredible new world for his viewers. However, he was also aware that making a film that starred a huge, stop-motion monkey was going to be a hard one for audiences to buy. He needed to give viewers an emotional connection, one which would allow them to suspend their disbelief and get swept up into the unimaginable universe which he had invited them. The key was in casting the right girl to play Kong's captive/daughter/love interest, Ann Darrow. The actress would need to be able to relay sincere reactions and emotions, ranging from feminine sensitivity to abject fear. Merian needed an unparalleled beauty, both inside and out, to kill his beast. He found it in Fay Wray, (left) who seemed born for the role by name alone, as her horrified shrieks provided a vast amount of the film's resulting soundtrack. When Merian first offered her the part, he told her very little other than that she would be starring opposite the "tallest, darkest leading man in Hollywood." Fay's heart, which was all aflutter at the prospect of working with Cary Grant, was quickly palpitating for other reasons when she learned the truth! Her part in King Kong remains her most famous performance, which has kept her very much alive in the public consciousness. This is fortunate for her, since the role almost when to Dorothy Jordan...or Jean Harlow! Jean's version certainly would have been interesting and perhaps a bit more provocative, though it would be hard to imagine a sweet and sexy Jean screaming at an ape for an hour. With her demeanor, they probably would have hunkered down and played a hand of cards after the first 5 minutes... All the better for Merian's decision: he needed a girl who could scream, not seduce!

A match made in Movie heaven. Fay's probably missing Cary about now...

DIDJA KNOW: Part I

The latest addition to the L.A. La Land blog is the article category "Didja Know?" This quick-takes column of cinema trivia will hopefully introduce little known facts and miscellaneous brain food for the ever-hungry, movie-savvy devotee. Dig in!

Didja know, on this famous "I Love Lucy" episode, the co-worker Lucy is left 

alone to work with was an actual candy maker, cast by Desi. In the scene, the

 focused, yet inexperienced, bit player was not acting when she slapped Lucy. 

She really let her have it, and left Lucy seeing stars 

(with chocolate running down her face).

TV Loves Desi:

Though the success of "I Love Lucy" is accurately credited to the zany performance of Lucille Ball, her paramour and partner Desi Arnaz had a great deal to do with the show's popularity, as well as some new innovations that he introduced, not only to "I Love Lucy," but to television in general. Firstly, CBS insisted that the show be filmed before a live audience-- which in itself was a first for a sitcom. Consequently, the now familiar cue cards were invented for the audience: "APPLAUSE," CHEERS", and "LAUGHTER." However, it was quickly noted that the 'LAUGHTER' card was unnecessary. The audience guffawed ably enough on their own thanks to the comedic sensibilities of the entire cast: Lucy, Desi, William Frawley, and Vivian Vance. Desi added his two cents to this novel idea by stipulating that each episode be filmed with three cameras filming simultaneously, thus cutting down on shooting time. It was not an easy sell, but with Karl Freund's photography, it worked so efficiently that the three camera setup became a staple of the televised situation comedy. Another added piece that Desi contributed related to the commercials. After watching the first season's episodes, he concluded that the transition between the show and the advertisements was too awkward. Thus, he contrived to have an animated segue added before each commercial break to inform the viewer of the brief intermissions. So, one now sees in re-runs the cartoon versions of Lucy and Desi smooching at the drive-in or playing with the camera before the interruption of the latest miracle toothpaste, cleaning fluid, or (at the time) cigarette brand.


Rasputin and the Jury:

Ever wonder where those annoying disclaimers in the opening credits come from? You know, the ones that say, "Any resemblence to persons alive or dead is complete coincidence..." yadda yadda yadda? Well, we have director Richard Boleslawski's Rasputin and the Empress to thank for that. When the film-- which dramatizes the notorious Grigori Rasputin's relationship with the last Czar (et familia)-- was released in 1934, MGM was sued by Princess Irina Alexandrovna Youssoupoff for libel when she claimed to recognize herself  in the character Princess Natasha. In the film, John Barrymore's character too represents Prince Chegodiefl, who had a direct part in Rasputin's (played by Lionel Barrymore, with John right) murder. It was not this macabre revelation that bothered Chegodiefl and his wife-- he in fact took pride in his part of the assassination; it was the idea that the Princess, or rather her character, was presented in the film as having been seduced by Rasputin, like the many other Russian women of the time. Because of this, the disclaimer was added, and to protect their backsides from future financial attacks, MGM and other studios started adding these shields of dissociation to all films based upon biographical material. Another interesting tidbit about the film is that it is the only time all three Barrymores appeared together onscreen. Though Lionel and John would work together in films like Dinner at Eight and Grand Hotel, Ethel (portraying the Empress in this film) was too attached to the stage to be wooed into too many Hollywood pictures, with her brothers or not.


The "Dirty" Lie:

Since I have been on a bit of a gangster kick lately, I thought I would introduce the following tidbit. Many of us have heard the phrase, "You dirty rat..." which we associate with mobster flicks. Commonly, this derogatory exclamation is attributed to the eternal Movieland hood, James Cagney. However, this credit is undeservedly bestowed, as Cagney himself would attest. The true source of the now iconic utterance is none other than Lon Chaney, whose Black Mike Silva said it, albeit silently, in the 1920 Tod Browning picture Outside the Law (left with Priscilla Dean and Wheeler Oakman). Before Lon became associated with his outlandish makeup concoctions and the macabre and sometimes monstrous performances that would become his token, he popularly played the character heavy and bad guy in a slew of early silent films that explored the dark underbelly of city life. His contribution to the slowly evolving genre of the gangster pic set the groundwork for later cinematic derelicts like Cagney, Robinson, and Raft to tread upon. Other films depicting Lon in a similar vein are The Blackbird, The Wicked Darling, and The Penalty.
 


Miss Quoted:

Another incorrect quote credit involves Ginger Rogers (right), that saucy lady of steps. Beautiful, graceful, and possessing both acting chops and a biting humor, Ginge' made everything she did look seamless and easy. Obviously, this was not the case. Behind all of her street smart characters and effortless dance moves, opposite Fred Astaire, went a hefty bit of diligence, rehearsal, and training. For this reason, because of the woman she was and the success she was able to accomplish, she was in her time, and still today, a popular feminist icon. It is often recalled that she said: "I did everything Fred Astaire did, but backwards and in high heels!" However, she never made this statement herself. The true source was the popular comic strip created by Bob Thaves, "Frank and Ernest," and in particular the cartoon printed in 1982. Yet, because it bore the ring of truth, the famous quote became one of the continuing slogans for girl power. Whether Ginger said the actual words or not, she did indeed live the example, for which women everywhere remain eternally grateful.

The famous Ginger comic strip.  

City Noise:

In the early days of the talkies, directors were trying to find new and innovative ways to not only record and synchronize sound appropriately, but also use it to a film's best advantage artistically speaking. All of a sudden, in addition to awkward staging to allow recorded dialogue, filmmakers began toying with sound effects, atmospheric sound, audio transitions, etc. It was all a little rocky, which explains why so many silent film players were certain that the latest invention was just another fad. Yet, the transition carried over, and slowly the kinks were ironed out and new ideas perfected. One such example comes via Rouben Mamoulian's City Streets (1931) starring Gary Cooper and Sylvia Sidney (left). Mamoulian is credited through the film of introducing the wonder of the "inner monologue." For the first time, a character's thoughts are heard by the viewer while the character herself remains silent. In this case, Sylvia Sidney ponders worriedly about her lover, Gary Cooper, and she hears his voice in her mind, as does the viewer. This technique was poo-pooed by many at the studio, who thought it came off as ridiculous and would never work, but it became a landmark moment. In the same year, Fritz Lang employed the same practice in his first sound film M, starring Peter Lorre as a twisted, child murderer. At one point in the film, Lorre covers his ears and rocks himself back and forth. The audience hears the whistling of "In the Hall of the Mountain King," which is occuring only inside the psycopath's head, both calming him and firing him up for the kill at the same time. This method was soon copied by others until it became a commonplace staple of cinema narrative. No longer does an audience have to guess what a character is thinking. We can hear it too! (Another interesting bit of info from City Streets is that originally, Gary's former lover Clara Bow was to appear in the picture, but she was replaced by Sylvia after she suffered one of the tragic nervous breaksdowns that would send her career on a downward spiral).

HISTORY LESSON: Movie Stars and the Mob

Hollywood's favorite Gangster: James Cagney

There is something intoxicating about the element of danger, isn't there? All of our favorite actors possess it. Who is Brando without it? For that matter, who is Davis without it? Just as different celebrities hypnotize us through their various characters, so too were they mesmerized by a certain breed of the male animal that was even more intoxicating than themselves-- the gangster. Brutal, violent, merciless, not to mention unlawful, the birth of the thug came with the death of alcohol. In protecting human beings by taking away their booze, prohibition ironically unearthed an even more foul, yet even more tempting, villain. Iconically remembered with Tommy guns, cigars, and sometimes baseball bats (thanks to Robert De Niro's turn in The Untouchables), these tough guys emerged from a world of hard knocks and ruthlessness with no other agenda than to make a buck off other men's weaknesses. Businessmen and bruisers, they became rich and powerful through drugs, gambling, white slavery... You name it. Their legacy is a strange and dark mutation of the American dream. Living as the Royalty of the Underworld, it wasn't long before live villains started rubbing elbows with screen heroes. Elbows... and then some.

Why do good girls always want the bad boys? You'd think a lady would know to run far and fast when a man with a more-than-disreputable reputation came into view, yet the opposite effect more popularly occurs. Even some of our most beloved starlets have been hoodwinked by the charms of a devious gangster. Be it the allure of being that close to danger, the attraction of power, the money and spoils the "hood" is able to provide (however his means of obtaining them), certain women have temporarily muted their common sense for a forbidden adrenaline rush. One such lady was Lucille Ball (looking very much the gangster's moll in her role for Dance Girl Dance, left). As a fourteen year-old youngster, her first major boyfriend was a local hood named Johnny DeVita, whose resume included "chauffeuring" for his sketchy father-- aka transporting whiskey. Johnny was tough, which Lucille found a turn-on, and the fact that he carried a gun around made her even more enamored. However, not long after his dad was shot and killed, Johnny would find himself in Jail for his own transgressions. Lucy's taste didn't change much when she became a struggling model in NY. Working for Hattie Carnegie, she often came across gang members looking for good-looking dames to show a swell time. Lucy struck up friendships with many of these fellows, which helped her get a free meal or two, not to mention a false sense of protection. After a neighborhood shootout, she earned the nickname "two-gun." Just why remains a mystery.

Another tough guy Lucy would date and befriend was George Raft. Raft (right) had a lot of mobster ties dating all the way back to his boyhood. He had no ambitions to rise in the ranks of that type of "business," but he ingratiated himself to a number of wise guys who would later call on him for favors when he became a movie star. Mae West would recall meeting Raft for the first time when he was a mere chauffeur for Owney Madden. They had a brief fling, which left Mae reminiscing in later years that George was "all man." Mae, like Lucy, had a taste for the bad boys, but was too smart a business woman to get involved too deeply with them. Emotions remained out of the equation. Strangely, she tried to coerce Raft into appearing in her latest stage production, "Sex," but George had no ambitions toward being an actor either. He had no ambitions at all it seemed, other than to just live as comfortably as possible. It was thus a shock to Mae when, later, George made it to Hollywood before she did and secured a role for her in what would be her film debut: Night After Night. It was a welcome reunion. Despite this, Raft was known by some as hot-tempered and threatening. He still carried around a gun, cozied up to thugs, and had no qualms about slapping someone around. He would even testify on behalf of Bugsy Siegel when the latter was brought up on bookmaking charges. Yet, George seemed to have a soft spot for certain ladies. In addition to Mae, he was helpful to Lucy when he loaned her the money to rent her first bungalow in Hollywood. It was a touching move, for it allowed her to move her entire family from Jamestown to L.A. It would take her more than six years to pay him back, but her pal said that there was no rush.

Pat DiCicco also had mob connections. Publicly an acting agent, privately he was good friends with the likes of Lucky Luciano. Luckily, whatever fling Lucy Ball had with Pat was brief, but Carole Landis was too suckered by his deceptive charms. Initially turned on by his confidence and swagger, she soon found that her Prince Charming had some major rage issues. Their affair would quickly come to an end after a mysterious hospital visit: she was reported to be undergoing cosmetic surgery on her nose, though it is commonly believed that she was repairing the physical damage of a brutal beating. The girl was perfect, after all; she didn't need plastic surgery. Whatever the source of her visit, it marked the end of their relationship. Most notoriously, it was comedienne Thelma Todd who was all too seriously involved with Pat. The two were married in the 1930s (see newlyweds left). Like the others, Thelma fell for what she mistook as Pat's strength, only to find herself constantly on the receiving end of his anger and jealousy. A common error, most women sought these men in hopes of finding protection but put themselves in the line of fire instead... literally. As their marriage was ending, Pat introduced Thelma to Lucky Luciano aka Charles Lucifer, and the two began their own affair. But, as Lucky put the pressure on Thelma to give him space in her Sidewalk Cafe to use as a gambling center, Thelma adamantly refused. Consequently, she was found dead in her garage on December 16, 1935. Though Lucky was certainly the mastermind behind her "accidental" demise, many believed Pat too played an intricate part in ending his ex-wife's life. Since all of Tinsel Town knew this, it makes it strange that any other woman would give Pat a second glance, but in addition to winning over Lucy and Carole, Pat too would tac Joan Blondell, Gloria Vanderbilt, Virginia Bruce, and Elizabeth Taylor onto his roster.

Another infamous Hollywood death that has been tied to in some respect to gang warfare is that of The Black Dahlia, Elizabeth Short. Though many would attest that the macabre nature of her death and the precision with which she was brutally sawed in half suggested the work of a calculating psychopath or serial killer, there were also clues attached to her body that pointed to none other than Bugsy Siegel (right). One theory postulates that newspaper magnate Norman Chandler paid Siegel, along with the aid of a couple of other thugs and a doctor, to kill Bettie after she became pregnant with Norman's child. He feared the threat of a scandal and the tarnishing of his illustrious family's name. If so, this would explain the brutality with which Bettie was beaten across the head and face-- the sadistic Bugsy had a penchant for "pistol whipping." Because her uterus was removed, this too lends to the speculation that her murder was used to cover up an abortion/pregnancy. Also, her body was dumped not far from Bugsy foe Jack Dragna's house, and-- something the police did not let the press in on-- a "D" was carved into her skin, which many attribute to an antagonistic Sicilian "Eff you" from Bugsy to Dragna. With Bugsy's schedule, flying back and forth non-stop while finalizing his precious Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas, it is possible that he was present to have just enough time to take part in the murder and, knowing him, enjoy it.

Whether or not he did play a role in Bettie's end, Bugsy had a very prominent role in Hollywood-- with both the women and the men. Whatever his sickening and reprehensible behavior in fact, he was able to at least concoct enough fiction to make him fascinating to all of the glitterati. He could be seen on the town at various shindigs, rubbing elbows with Clark Gable and Gary Cooper-- and George Raft, of course. Naturally, the man known as the handsomest thug too partnered up with several actresses, including Marie McDonald and Wendy Barrie. He was also in tight with Jean Harlow's abysmal step-father, Marino Bello, which put him in contact with Jean as well. (Harlow, of course, is also rumored to have had a relationship with Abner "Longie" Zwillman, who helped her secure her first acting contract. He too was said to carry around a locket containing hair from her... uh... nether-regions). Whether these actors truly liked Bugsy or merely tolerated him out of fear is uncertain. One would at least hope that they had their guards up. Most notoriously, Bugsy had a violent and torrential relationship with wannabe actress Virginia "Sugar" Hill (left), who was supposedly just as venomous and abusive as her lover. It would be at Virginia's home in Beverly Hills, 810 N. Linden Drive, where Bugsy would finally meet his maker and face the music for all of his worldly crimes. He was shot clean through the eye. His murder was believed to be payback for all of the money he owed his Flamingo investors.

But all of these names were floating around Hollywood for a reason. The Mob was moving West-- away from the Metropolises of New York and Chicago-- to do big business in show business. Names like Siegel, Luciano, Mickey Cohen, Meyer Lansky, and Frank Nitti are attached to Movieland for very specific reasons. One is now known as "The Great Hollywood Shakedown." Two lesser known names involved are those most responsible for what was to become an enormous extortion racket- Willie Bioff (right) and George Brown. Their scheme started in Chicago, where after dabbling in prostitution, they set their sights on the Stagehands Union. Step one, membership. The slogan was simple: join us you little, underpaid children... or be beaten within an inch of your life. Step Two, after Increasing dues, B&B threatened theater owners with "strikes" if they didn't pay up monthly fees for the use of the union members. Theater owners Sam Katz and Barney Balaban were some of the first hit with the new, raw deal. To keep their theaters running, they played the game, and business continued smoothly. Frank Nitti, Al Capone's heir, soon partnered up (or rather took over), and the venture moved West. Capone had already laid the ground work, and Nitti wanted to finish the job. With the corrupt Buron Fitts running things as the District Attorney in Los Angeles, a complete goon-takeover wouldn't be difficult.

Next, New York's Lucky Luciano (left) was brought into the loop in a temporary or at least feigned truce, and the two branches would work together to take over Tinsel Town. Adding the projectionists' unions and IATSE to the scheme, they could return to men like Balaban, now in Hollywood running Paramount, and demand huge payments to keep their theaters running and their studios filming. The film-businessmen would be forced to pay or suffer the consequences: the loss of their livelihoods or worse, the loss of their lives. All of the major studios were hit: Paramount, Warners, Twentieth-Century, MGM... Game, Set, Match. In a way, it worked for everyone. Under mob control, the studios ran more efficiently than ever, as long as they payed up, and moguls actually saved money paying the bad guys instead of paying the Unions directly. Needless to say, the union members were the ones getting truly and financially screwed. As hot-shot gang members became commonplace at Hollywood parties, corruption whipped into full swing. Producer Joe Schenck even got in on the action via a Dupont Film monopoly, for which he paid ol' Bioff off with a Ranch. The feds caught up with him, however, ironically from a tip from Montgomery Clift, then the SAG President, whose informants alerted the IRS to the fishy financial goings-on. Schenck served five years in prison as a result. By the end of the '40s, with the cat out of the bag, the whole troupe of accomplices was led into court both for participation in the extortion plot and tax evasion. Most would get off due to their connections, but some did not fare as well, including Nitti, who blew his own brains out when the prospect of facing jail time became too daunting. The only one who escaped completely was Lucky, who (after killing Thelma Todd), had left the whole racket, or rather was kicked out by his own partners, to return to New York. He was later deported back to his native Sicily where he would die in 1962 at the ripe old age of 69. One hopes his soul did not fare as well.

Frank Sinatra (right) was the man most notoriously associated with the Mafia in the latter days of Hollywood's golden age. It is common knowledge by now that it was through Old Blue Eyes's influence and mob connections that the Kennedys were able to buy their way into the White House. Of course, after they got what they wanted, the Prez quickly disappeared from Frank's life so that his pristine public image wouldn't be maligned. Frank was... ticked. (There are continuing theories that many members of the mafia, who had connections with the Kennedy family, were outraged by the political family's inability to "do business" properly. While many in America were shocked when JFK was shot dead, those in the underworld were not). Frank often overcompensated for his diminutive stature by surrounding himself by powerful people. His big voice and even bigger ego were all the guy needed, but his need to appear tough and throw his weight around was enhanced by his relationships with gangsters. Sam Giancana and Mickey Cohen were co-owners of Frank's Cal Neva Lodge. Skinny D'Amato was the manager. Frank was also throughout his life associated with Joe and Rocco Fischetti and John Formosa. While this made him somewhat of a moral and political threat, it equally boosted his fan appeal and public image. His male fans particularly were more intrigued when they learned that little Frankie was more than just a singing heartthrob for the ladies. He was a bad-ass mother-f*cker! Say what you will, no one messed with Frank. Well, almost. Frank got a little miffed at Lucille's beloved Desi Arnaz after he started producing "The Untouchables." He felt it was insulting to both Italians and "his friends." Yet, even after he tried to persuade his Cuban comrade to pull the plug, Desi sweet-talked him out of his anger. As Frank himself would say, "I just can't stay mad at the guy."

Edward G. Robinson takes a bullet and makes a hit in Little Caesar.

"The Untouchables" turned out to be a huge hit for Desilu Studios, and one of many Hollywood products that contributed to our understanding of gang warfare. The show would make Robert Stack a star, though his role was that of Det. Eliot Ness (a character reprised by Kevin Kostner in the film version). The show was, however, more about the triumph of good over evil, whereas earlier Hollywood films made in the gangster infiltration hey-day-- specifically those produced during the pre-code era-- had a tendency to glorify the thugs, the goons, and the hoods. It's funny that, aside from Sinatra and Raft, some of the actors most famous for playing these guys were very far from their screen selves. Edward G. Robinson, the infamous pug-faced actor who rose to fame in Little Caesar, was in life an educated aesthete who collected fine art, had a wide knowledge of music and culture, and could speak seven languages fluently. And Cagney, the mad hero of Public Enemy and White Heat? His portrayals of gangsters were convincing, because he observed them while growing up in the Lower East Side of NY. But, while he studied them, he did not assimilate, despite the fact that many of his friends did. He put his passions and angst into his art, becoming a song and dance man instead. His true self would come to the forefront in Yankee Doodle Dandy. Though admitted facades that could never possess the brutality of the real truth, the classic reel tales of booze, violence, and "bidness," are still offers we can't refuse. I guess the flesh and blood (and I do mean blood) realities were just as enticing for some celebs, though dancing with the Devil too often left then burned.

CAST AWAYS: Part VI

The time has come for some more cinematic "What ifs." Hope you like the latest lot:

Judy Garland, wondering where her latest part went...

Toward the end of Judy Garland's MGM career, there were many roles that were snatched out from under her. Or rather, several roles that she let slip away. As her disenchantment with the studio's slave-driving and her own personal and substance abuse problems increased, her work became less consistent-- in quantity if not in quality. Judy missed out on an opportunity to re-team with Fred Astaire in The Barkleys of Broadway. After their success in the triumphant Easter Parade, MGM was looking to put the duo back together again, a gig that both stars were looking forward to, since they got along swimmingly-- or should I say dancingly? (Interestingly, Gene Kelly had originally been slated to star in Parade, but his injured ankle called Astaire out of retirement). Sadly, a reunion for Fred and Judy was too not to be. Judy was still worn out from the previous film-- pale and gaunt, she lacked the energy to fulfill her obligations. In the end, it was Ginger Rogers who was called upon to take back her place as Fred's most famous waltzing partner. This would be the first time the two had appeared together since 1939's The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle. A decade later, they were still a sight to behold (see left). It would be the last movie the famous pair made together, ending an 10 picture winning streak.

In 1949, Judy was also slated to star in Annie Get Your Gun, however there were several strikes working against her. She had recently and admittedly separated from her husband, Vincente Minnelli, and the realization of his true sexual tendencies was a crushing blow to her feelings of security as a woman. In addition, the film's director was to be Busby Berkeley, an arch nemesis who had driven Judy to the brink of collapse in her earlier, childhood roles. Judy too disliked the frumpy wardrobe (right), which further inhibited her already enormous physical insecurity. Judy's response was to arrive late or not at all. In addition, her health was poor as a result of the temporary electroshock therapy she was undergoing. As her weight dropped and her hair began to fall out, her one coup was having Berkeley replaced with her friend Chuck Walters, but even he couldn't save Judy. She was offered an ultimatum by the studio-- show up on time, or you're fired! Judy left in a huff and Betty Hutton, everyone's favorite, loud-mouth mug, stepped into Annie's stirrups. It remains her most famous role.

Betty Hutton, guns blazin'!

Errol Flynn is remembered as America's Favorite Swashbuckler. It seems that this Tasmanian Devil was destined for fame, for the beginning of his career was guided by a power greater than himself. His big breakthrough role as Peter Blood in Captain Blood was a phenomenon (left with Olivia De Havilland). Jack Warner took a big gamble in allowing the unknown Flynn to be cast in Michael Curtiz's epic pirate adventure. Originally, Robert Donat was slated to star as the doctor-turned-seafaring hero. After he dropped out due to illness, Leslie Howard, Ronald Coleman, and Fredric March were also considered. 22 other actors in total were given screen tests for the role.  It was Errol's own wife, Lili Damita (a bigger star at the time), who encouraged Curtiz (her ex-husband!) to cast him. He did, and the gamble paid off. The film was a box-office bonanza, and Errol Flynn was a star! Lili was in tears at the premiere, not out of joy but out of despair. She knew that Errol's rising star would mean the end of their tempestuous marriage. She was right.

This didn't mean everything came easily to him in the casting world. The role with which he is most synonymous, Robin Hood, was almost one he never got to play. It appeared for a time that James Cagney (right) was to be the eternal man in tights. However, due to professional disagreements, he walked right out of Nottingham, leaving the way free and clear for another leading man. Again, Errol was chosen, and he will forever be remembered as that delicious cad in green, fending off foes in Sherwood Forest. As one of Warner Bros. greatest films, it is impossible to imagine anyone else wooing Olivia De Havilland's Maid Marian. Besides, Cagney looked better with a gun than a bow and arrow... Errol's good friend David Niven was also supposed to step in as Will Scarlett, but he couldn't be torn away from his vacation in England, so Patric Knowles took the job.

Patric and Errol relax between takes in Sherwood.

William Holden's struggle for and with the role of Joe Bonaparte in Golden Boy is a story many love telling. The "rich kid" had been studying chemistry but had always had a penchant for the dramatics. He was on a high when cast in the role of a lifetime in Golden boy, but this unknown was immediately humbled when he found that he quite simply couldn't act under pressure. Bumbling around the set, flubbing his lines, and looking mighty awkward, director Rouben Mamoulian was shaking his head wondering why he had cast him in the first place. John Garfield too must have been pondering the same question, since he was the actor that author Clifford Odets had originally penned the role for when it was to go up on the New York stage. At the time, The Group Theatre chose Luther Adler to take on the role instead. In response, John quit the group and went to Hollywood. When word came that the play was to become a movie, John thought his time had finally come to take on the role that he had always wanted to play. This time the part went to the unknown Holden. After some help from Barbara Stanwyck, Bill got his grip on himself and the role of a lifetime and had his day in the sun as the Golden Boy (left). Garfield was ok, though. By this time he was a well on his way to becoming a big star too, having performed in the very popular Four Daughters the year before.

John Garfield would get to play a boxer later 

in Body and Soul. He would also play
a violinist opposite Joan Crawford
in Humoresque.

In struggling to choose the greatest romantic comedy of all time, I go back and forth between two films: The More the Merrier and Roman Holiday. It is hard to choose the greatest of them all, but often I veer toward the latter. The star-making performance of Audrey Hepburn, the amiable dignity of Gregory Peck, the fun and adventure of a Princess's day as a normal girl, and, of course, the heartbreaking end when she must return to a life of discipline and reserve. All of these elements came together so beautifully that it is impossible to imagine the film any other way. But, it very nearly was an entirely different film, one which was to star Cary Grant and Elizabeth Taylor. Oy! Though both of these performers were fantastic, the lighthearted innocence of the film would have been lost. Grant is both too sophisticated and too comically playful to take on the newspaperman next-door role that Peck created so gracefully, and Liz had too much maturity and sensuality to carry off the delicate and naive enchantment that Audrey delivered. Thus, the one-two punch of Greg and Aud' was the right combo, creating the profound chemistry needed to illicit love in 24 hours. Heart-- the most crucial element to any romance-- is very poignantly felt because of both actors' performances, and when Peck walks away from that empty silent hall at the end, it is completely clear just what he is leaving behind-- a love that could have been and a cinematic legacy.

Ahhh, movie heaven: Audrey and Greg 

in Roman Holiday.