Showing posts with label Jack Carson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jack Carson. Show all posts

Monday, September 29, 2014

Judy Garland's Comeback



"He gave me a look at myself I've never had before. He saw something in me nobody else ever did. He made me see it, too. He made me believe it."

Esther Blodgett/Vicki Lester (Judy Garland)

We're overdue for another remake of "A Star is Born."

The original version, starring Janet Gaynor and Fredric March, was made in 1937. The first remake premiered 60 years ago today, and the third version, with Barbra Streisand and Kris Kristofferson, hit the theaters 22 years later.

Of the three versions, the one that premiered on this day in 1954 was superior to the others. After all, it starred Judy Garland, and no one could sing like Judy Garland. Her co–star was James Mason as the fading star who tries to give her a boost as his career begins its descent.

Apparently, it was treated as Garland's comeback, given the fact that it had been about four or five years since her last movie. She was nominated for the Best Actress Academy Award, and everyone seemed to assume she would win. She couldn't attend the Oscars ceremony because she had just given birth to her son so NBC, which broadcast the Oscars in the 1950s, sent a camera crew to her hospital room so she could give her speech on TV.

Except she didn't win. Grace Kelly did — for "The Country Girl."

I suppose, if one is going to launch a show–biz comeback, being in a movie that is about show biz is a pretty good way to do it.

Director George Cukor's story certainly must seem predictable to 21st–century viewers. Considering that it was a remake, it should have been familiar to viewers in 1954, too. After all, it was faithful to the story that was told in the Janet Gaynor–Fredric March movie.

Garland played an up–and–coming singer/actress who married an alcoholic actor on the downside of his career. She relied on his wisdom at first, but, as she became more self–sufficient, she needed his intervention less and less, and Mason's character, already struggling with alcohol, retreated deeper into the bottle.

It was a battle his character did not win. Although he sought treatment and seemed to recover, he suffered a relapse when Jack Carson, playing a publicist, accused him of living off his wife's income. This sent Mason's character on a drinking binge that led to his arrest.

When he realized that Garland had decided to sacrifice her career to care for him, Mason committed suicide in the famous scene in which he walks into the sea and drowns. (Well, March did it first.) His hope was to free Garland to pursue her destiny as a star — but, instead, she became a recluse.

A friend snapped her out of it by telling her she was wasting the career that Mason's character wanted to save, and she agreed to appear in public again, introducing herself as "Mrs. Norman Maine."

When I was younger, I thought Streisand and Kristofferson gave the movie its musical spin even though I knew Garland was in the 1954 version. But I was wrong. Garland gave it its first musical spin. She sang lots of songs in "A Star Is Born." If you went to a theater 60 years ago today hoping to hear Judy Garland sing, you weren't disappointed.

But people who hoped for a blockbuster of a movie were disappointed. By 1954 standards, it was very expensive to make. It made more than $6 million — an impressive figure for 1954 but not enough to recover the investment that was made in it. Was that a factor in the Oscar vote that year?

"A Star Is Born" was nominated for six Oscars and lost them all.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Day's Dream



Did you ever notice how much dreams figured in the career of Doris Day (who recently marked her 90th birthday)?

This isn't a joke. I'm serious.

Her second hit song was "My Dreams Are Getting Better All the Time."

She had a 10–inch LP called "I'll See You in My Dreams," which was the soundtrack for one of her movies, and she had two 12–inch LPs, "Day Dreams" and "I Have Dreamed" (which had seven songs that included the word dream in the title).

She appeared in two movies that had dream in the title and one TV short from the mid–1960s, "Every Girl's Dream."

Well, to be fair, I guess dreams do figure prominently in the existence of entertainers. In a sense, it is their business to sell dreams. I guess they aren't much different from sales people — except that they have to be entertaining. They're not selling a product; they're selling a mood, a state of mind. That's the key difference.

Most entertainers are not as obvious; they find synonyms (suitable ones for dream, for example, are "imagine/imagination," "fantasy," "thought," "reverie" and so on) to use.

But Doris Day was more direct with her fans, I suppose. And, to be fair, few entertainers have been as entitled to dream — even after it seemed their dreams came true — as Day.

At one time a frequent star of the big screen, Day hasn't been in a movie since the death of her husband/manager in 1968 left her penniless and deep in debt. She re–created herself for the small screen of television.

Initially, her dream was to be a dancer, but after she nearly died in a car crash, she refocused her attention on singing and acting.

In her mid–20s, she made her big–screen debut in a movie with Jack Carson, and a partnership of sorts was born. It may seem as if she made many more movies, but Day was in 39 — some with Carson, and, more widely remembered, some with Rock Hudson.

Her second movie, director Michael Curtiz's "My Dream Is Yours," which premiered 65 years ago today, also co–starred Carson.

Like many of Day's movies, "My Dream Is Yours" was so light and airy it could have floated away on its own.

Carson played theatrical manager for Day, a widowed mom. He took her to Hollywood where she became a star. Her blossoming career, achieved in part at the expense of another performer for whom she has feelings, keeps them apart through most of the film — but not, apparently, off screen.

Suffice to say, the plot was not really the main attraction for the movie — nor is it today.

But, whereas Day was certainly an attraction for audiences in 1949, today the main attraction is to see an early example of a truly Roger Rabbitesque touch.

Day and Carson, dressed in bunny suits, did a live action/animation sequence with Bugs Bunny and Tweety Bird (voices supplied by the late Mel Blanc) to "Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2" by Franz Liszt.

Now that was a dream sequence.