The heavens released two stars of the highest caliber on this day! For the first birth-aversary we have one of my favorite singers, Lena Horne. The woman exuded class with every song that she sang. A minimum of movement was her signature, along with those expressive eyes.
These three photos are from Perry Como’s Kraft Music Hall. The episode aired Feb 13, 1964, and featured Lena Horne and Dean Martin. Lena sang the duet, “Every Little Star” with Perry while wearing this outfit.
Even though the quality of this video clip is not stellar, the talent of these three still comes through. Horne eclipses the two males.
The other birth-aversary for today is Susan Hayward, the star of one of my favorite tear-jerking melodramas, “Back Street” (1961). Playing a fashion designer who finds herself as “the other woman,” you can’t help but root for her.
Hayward was able to portray a cool beauty, even with her fiery auburn locks that were perfectly suited for the Technicolor cameras.
“What? It’s my birthday?”
With a warm, genuine smile, Hayward appealed to both men and women.
They sure don’t make ’em like Lena and Susan anymore!
See more Classic Movie & TV photos at my main website.
These two photos are publicity stills from one of my very favorite "weepies," the 1961 version of "Back Street." From the accompanying caption:
SCREEN BROTHER AND SISTER
Tammy Marihugh and Robert Eyer portray the screen youngsters of John Gavin and Vera Miles in "Back Street," the poignant Fannie Hurst story involving a "triangle" between the film's three stars, Susan Hayward, Gavin and Miss Miles. Charles Drake, Virginia Grey, Reginald Gardiner and Miss Marihugh head the strong supporting cast of the Ross Hunter-Carrollton Production filmed in color for release by Universal.
Child actor Robert Eyer was also in "Leave it to Beaver"; he passed away in 2005. Tammy Marihugh is still alive; her other roles included parts in "My Three Sons," "The Twilight Zone," and "Wagon Train." She became an exotic dancer and married bodybuilder Rodney Larson, who she shot in the back after an evening of heavy drinking. She was found guilty of involuntary manslaughter but given probation as a result of Larson being an abusive husband.
See more Daveland Susan Hayward "Back Street" photos at my main website.
It was with great sadness that I read on the Dougsploitation blog that actress Juanita Moore had passed away. If you've never seen the 1959 Douglas Sirk classic "Imitation Of Life" then you might not know her.
"Imitation of Life" was based on a Fannie Hurst novel of the same name and a remake of a 1934 Claudette Colbert film. Over the course of many years, it tells the story of an ambitious white actress, Lora Meredith (Lana Turner) and her friendship with a black woman, Annie Johnson (Moore) who meet by chance when their two daughters become playmates at Coney Island Beach. Lora allows the homeless Annie and her daughter to stay with her for the night.
Annie makes herself indispensable to Lora, organizing the apartment and tending to her child while she is out on auditions. Lora "hires" her (initially for just a place to stay) and the two forge a life-long working and personal relationship.
Johnson's daughter, Sarah Jane (Susan Kohner), is light-skined enough to pass for white, something the girl attempts to do as she gets older and becomes more disgusted with the lack of opportunities available to blacks at the time.
Both Moore and Susan Kohner (daughter of a Mexican actress and a Jewish film producer) earned Oscar nominations for their work. At the time, Juanita Moore was only the third black performer to be nominated for an Oscar. Moore and Kohner provide the framework for the most touching yet gut-wrenching scenes in the film.
Sarah Jane grows tired of her mother's supposed acceptance of being treated like a second-class citizen and decides to strike out on her own, living life as a white woman.
Annie attempts to teach patience and tolerance to her daughter, hoping she won't run away, but to no avail. Much later, when Annie is able to find her wayward daughter (now a showgirl), the two have a final confrontation that will rip your heart out. Sarah Jane obviously has a deep love for her mother, but her immaturity and desire for acceptance wins out, forcing her to publicly denounce Annie and tell her friends that she is only her mammy.
Many who take the film only at face value have dismissed it as typical 1950s melodrama, while pointing out the stereotypical nature of Moore's character. Those that take the time to examine the film will be richly rewarded by Moore's performance and its subtle yet powerful nuances. During a low-key reflective scene between Annie and Lora, Annie talks about her friends and her church. "It never occurred to me that you had any friends...I didn't know." Lora's self-absorbed ignorance about her best friend is not necessarily race-driven, as her treatment of her own daughter (annoyingly portrayed by Sandra Dee) is not much different. Annie could have made a very dramatic scene by calling her friend uncaring and selfish; instead, she subtly lets her know with one very simple line, delivered without anger or sarcasm: "Miss Lora, you never asked." It is the writing for Annie's character and Moore's natural performance that creates the core of the film, keeping it from going over the edge of artifice.
Towards the end of the film, when it becomes apparent that Annie is dying, the somewhat dimwitted Lora finally realizes all of the true riches that she has in this friendship. The final scene between these two is one of the most emotionally charged ones ever put on celluloid.
For a year after her 1960 nomination, Moore didn't work, as casting directors assumed she'd never play servants again. "What can you do?" Moore asked. "They're not going to pay me a lot of money for carrying a tray. That's all we did in movies at the time. The Oscar prestige was fine, but I worked more before I was nominated. Casting directors think an Oscar nominee is suddenly in another category. They couldn't possibly ask you to do one or two days' work. You wouldn't accept it. And I'm sure I would have." She went on to do a number of supporting roles, but the early promise of her acting career in "Imitation of Life" was sadly never fulfilled.
On youtube, you'll find this fantastic 3-part series of Moore vividly recalling her work with Lana Turner on "Imitation of Life":
"Imitation Of Life" was one of my favorite films that I studied in my genre film class back in my college days. Like any Douglas Sirk movie, there is much more going on than what you see on the surface in this tale of racial segregation. It is based on Fannie Hurst’s tearjerker novel. Lana Turner made a professional and financial comeback with "Imitation," released in 1959. Instead of taking a huge salary, she negotiated for 50% of the films profits, which ended up earning her over $2 million—well before Elizabeth Taylor's "Cleopatra" fiasco. It is everything you'd expect from a Ross Hunter production: glossy, colorful, and dramatic, with the typical classically-inspired musical score by Frank Skinner. Earl Grant did his best Nat King Cole imitation with the title song crooned over the opening credits while a plethora of jewels effortlessly drops behind the titles. Jean Louis designed the sumptuous wardrobe that Lana Turner models throughout the film.
Lana Turner and John Gavin are the romantic leads. Gavin is best known as Sam Loomis, Janet Leigh's boyfriend in "Psycho." Typically, if Rock Hudson wasn't available, Gavin would be the next one chosen for the role. Extremely handsome, he had a successful Hollywood career playing opposite some of film’s most famous leading ladies. Gavin, whose heritage was Irish and Mexican, was appointed U.S. Ambassador to Mexico by President Ronald Reagan.
Don't be fooled by the happy ending, though; Sirk gives more than enough evidence that smooth sailing is definitely not ahead. And yes, I colorized these photos myself. Had to make that green sash "pop"; however, I left the last one alone for purists!
One of my favorite scenes from the movie features a face-off between Lora Meredith (Lana Turner), the aging actress desperate for a break, and Annette (Sandra Gould), secretary to the lusty theatrical agent Alan Loomis (Robert Alda). Lora pretends that she has an appointment with Loomis, but doubting secretary Annette sees nothing penned in the book. Lora covers her tracks by stating that she has just breezed in from Hollywood and that there must be a slip-up. “I hope YOU didn’t slip up!” threatens Meredith with just enough ice behind the sweetness to cause Annette to buzz her boss immediately. Naturally, Lora gets her appointment AND the big break that she had been hoping for! Sandra Gould is best known as the 2nd Gladys Kravitz on “Bewitched.”
Many of the scenes that showed the mother-daughter conflicts between Lora (Turner) and Suzie (Sandra Dee) hit just a little too close to home for Turner’s actual daughter, Cheryl, who commented that even the fluffy pink bedroom looked an awful lot like the real thing.
For the ultimate in tear-jerking, just watch the death scene between Turner & Juanita Moore, who played Turner’s maid, Annie. Turner's acting style is pure MGM: glossy and highly emotional. On the other hand, Moore plays it with quiet restraint and dignity. Moore anchors the scene and keeps it from being ridiculous (despite the Heavenly choir singing in the background). The two actresses had excellent chemistry, making it believable that they were lifelong friends.
When it comes to 1960’s tearjerkers, few are as adept at getting the waterworks going as the 1961 Susan Hayward film, “Back Street.” This glossy Technicolor movie was produced by Ross Hunter, who seemed to have the franchise of weepies under lock and key at Universal. Susan never looked better than in this film where she is outfitted in a number of beautiful gowns by Jean Louis. Not surprisingly, the film received an Oscar nomination for Best Color Costume Design. Naturally, Susan's character (Rae Smith) is a fashion designer which shamelessly allows a few extra outfits to be shown to her adoring fans!
I wonder if these were actually Jean Louis’ sketches shown in Hayward’s little bedroom studio:
John Gavin, who also wooed Lana Turner in Hunter’s “Imitation of Life,” is on board to play the perfectly chiseled romantic lead. Vera Miles really hams it up as the alcoholic villainess. Although having an affair with a married man was unacceptable in 1960, Hayward’s indiscretion is allowable because Vera is a nagging boozy mess of a broad! We learn this through her drunken stumble at a fancy-smancy Italian restaurant that puts Gavin, Miles, and Hayward all together in one serendipitous moment: what are the chances??
Hayward shoots Gavin a glance that tells the audience that she sympathizes with his plight and will continue to be his own personal doormat until he can get rid of the shrew.
Frank Skinner’s lush score, freely borrowing from a number of classical pieces, is guaranteed to wring out a few more tears. One of the most emotional scenes is when Rae Smith makes a tearful phone call back home to the family in Nebraska at Thanksgiving after her honey has stood her up again.
And the ending...if you’re not weeping profusely, you might want to check your pulse!
