Though she shared the screen with such stars as Elvis Presley, Montgomery Clift and Anna Magnani in the course of her brief acting career, Dolores Hart received more notice in Hollywood history books for her decision to abandon stardom for life as a nun in 1963
. A pert, intelligent and confident performer, Hart proved equally capable at both high drama like “Wild is the Wind” (1957) and lightweight fare like “Loving You” (1957), the first of two films opposite Presley, and “Where the Boys Are” (1960).
A retreat to the Benedictine Abbey of Regina Laudis in 1959 left Hart feeling a void in her life that could not be filled by acting, and in 1963, she left Hollywood to take her vows as a nun. For the next four decades, Hart led the monastic life of a Benedictine nun, returning occasionally to the spotlight to recall her religious calling, most notably for a 2012 documentary short, “God is the Bigger Elvis,” which received an Oscar nomination. Though her film career was an admirable footnote in her life, Hartâ¿¿s dedication to her religious order was proof positive that some things held greater resonance than Hollywood stardom.
She was born Dolores Hicks in Chicago, IL on Oct. 20, 1938. The daughter of actor Bert Hicks and his wife, Harriet, she was also related by marriage, through an aunt, to singer Mario Lanza. Her fatherâ¿¿s career immediately enamored Hart to such an extent that she planned to become an actress at an early age. But her parentsâ¿¿ divorce halted her chances of being a child performer, and she escaped the chaos of their split by relocating to Chicago to live with her grandparents. There, she received an education in Hollywood films from her grandfather, a projectionist at a local movie theater. Hart eventually returned to Los Angeles, where she earned the lead role in a school production of Saint Joan. A friend with connections to Paramount sent word to producer Hal Wallis about Hart, and he brokered a screen test and contract with the studio for her while she was still in her teens.
GOD IS THE BIGGER ELVIS, US poster art, Dolores Hart, 2012. HBO Films/Courtesy Everett Collection HBO/Courtesy Everett Collection ACHTUNG AUFNAHMEDATUM GESCHÄTZT PUBLICATIONxINxGERxSUIxAUTxONLY Copyright: xHBO/CourtesyxEverettxCollectionx MCDGOIS EC010
Hart made a considerable splash with her first film role as Elvis Presleyslove interest in the 1957 musical drama “Loving You” (1957). The success of the film made Hart an in-demand supporting performer, and she was soon cast in major productions like George Cukor’s Wild is the Wind” (1957) with Anthony Quinn and Anna Magnani, and “Lonelyhearts” (1958), a sanitized take on Nathaneal Wests novel Miss Lonelyhearts, with Montgomery Clift, Myrna Loy and Maureen Stapleton.
That same year, she reteamed with Presley for one of his best features, Michael Curtizâ¿¿s “King Creole” (1958). Such a string of prestigious projects seemed to indicate that Hart was destined for stardom.
But while filming the Western “The Plunderers” (1959), Hart began to feel pangs of doubt about the life of a professional actor. She experienced a career triumph that year with her Broadway debut in “The Pleasure of His Company” (1959), which earned her a Tony Award nomination and a Theatre World Award. She was later approached to reprise her performance in a 1961 film version, but soon discovered that Debbie Reynolds had been cast in the role.
Disillusioned and weary from the play’s schedule, she was advised by a friend to take a retreat at the Benedictine Abbey of Regina Laudis in Bethlehem, CT. Hart found the experience physically and, more important, spiritually rejuvenating, and would return to the abbey several times over the next two years.
Hart worked steadily throughout 1960, scoring a hit with the then-controversial “Where the Boys Are” (1960) as one of four college girls exploring their sexuality while on spring break.
Her turn in “Francis of Assisi” (1961) as a young aristocrat who gave up her worldly possessions to follow the 13th century saint (Bradford Dillman) by becoming a nun proved remarkably prescient; after completing “The Inspector” (1962), an emotionally taxing film in which she played a Holocaust survivor, and the lightweight comedy “Come Fly With Me” (1963), Hart realized that she was in spiritual crisis. She broke off her engagement to Los Angeles businessman Don Robinson and returned to the Regina Laudis abbey, where she turned her back on the motion picture industry and began taking vows to become a nun.
Hart became Sister Dolores Hart after completing her vows in 1970. She embraced the monastic life of the order, which included several hours of prayer a day and maintaining the farm and property at the abbey.
Hart also spearheaded a project to further develop the abbey’s connection to the community around them through yearly theater productions, some of which were co-funded through her relationship with Hollywood talent like Paul Newman and Patricia Neal. In 1999, Hart suffered a crippling bout of peripheral idiopathic neuropathy disorder, a neurological disorder that left her wheelchair-bound for months.
After her recovery, Hart, who became Prioress of the Abbey in 2001, returned to Hollywood for the first time in 43 years to help raise awareness about the disorder, and later testified before a Congressional hearing on her ordeal. In 2012, Hart made headlines for her appearance on the red carpet at the 2012 Academy Awards. She was promoting the documentary short subject “God is the Bigger Elvis” (2012), which chronicled her journey from Hollywood to the abbey. It was her first appearance at a Hollywood event since 1959.
By Paul Gaita
The TCM Overview can also be accessed online here.
Dame Olivia de Havilland, who has died aged 104, was one of the last surviving cast members of Gone With the Wind (1939). Her portrayal of the saintly Melanie Hamilton earned her an Oscar nomination for best supporting actress and, to the modern eye, while Vivien Leigh’s Scarlett now seems mannered, de Havilland’s precocious maturity is still touching.
She was four times nominated for a best actress Academy Award, and won twice, for To Each His Own (1946) and The Heiress (1949). But her impact on her industry extended far beyond her acting ability. Her sufferings under the restrictions of the notorious Hollywood studio system pushed her to take her employers, Warner Brothers, to court. It cost her several years of her career, but her victory – still referred to as the “De Havilland decision” – changed irrevocably the way that actors would be treated by studios.
De Havilland had originally been signed to a seven-year contract at Warner Brothers just as the studio, also home to the director Michael Curtiz and leading man Errol Flynn, was exploring a new physical freedom on sound stages and locations to create a series of swashbucklers.
Her sweetness, and evident crush on Flynn (“You’d have been in trouble, too,” she once said about how overwhelming it was to partner him on screen, at the age of 19) made her the perfect damsel, in Captain Blood (1935), The Charge of the Light Brigade (1936), The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939), Dodge City (1939), Santa Fe Trail (1940), They Died With Their Boots On (1941), and, best of all, as Maid Marian in the 1938 Adventures of Robin Hood, in which she was sparky enough not to seem soppy.
She began to build a quiet strength and was loaned out to David O Selznick at his request to play the virtuous Melanie in Gone With the Wind. Then, determined not to go back to being “the girl” at Warners, playing ingenues, she rebelled, refusing to take the parts offered to her, and found herself suspended for six months.
She returned to work in The Strawberry Blonde (1941), cast as a plain woman (no prosthetics – plainness was implied in the script and by severity of hair-do) alongside Rita Hayworth, and in Hold Back the Dawn (1941), as a schoolmarm who is a suave con artist’s ticket to a US visa. She was nominated for an Oscar for that.
When her seven years at Warners ended after Princess O’Rourke (1943), the company would not release her, adding her periods of suspension to her contract. “You were a great celebrity but also a slave,” she said, so she read the small print and sued Warners under old Californian laws that prohibited employers from treating workers as serfs. She won and the De Havilland decision, along with a judicial ruling fought for Bette Davis, ended the old studio system by limiting contracts to a total of seven years, suspensions included.
The battles lasted for three years, and, kept off-screen throughout, De Havilland toured US military hospitals in the Pacific where she talked to and comforted wounded service personnel. After her court win Warners warned other studios off her, although she eventually found work at Paramount.
She returned in 1946 in To Each His Own, as the mother of an illegitimate child whose father had been killed in war, and who had turned over the baby for adoption. De Havilland’s good sense tempered the drama’s weepiness, and she won her Oscar at last.
In The Dark Mirror, the same year, she played rivalrous twin sisters; a Hollywood in-joke, for De Havilland’s younger sister, Joan Fontaine, had made a slower professional start, but had beaten her to an Oscar. (The sisters were estranged for most of their adult lives.)
De Havilland went on taking risks: she played a psychiatric patient in Anatole Litvak’s The Snake Pit (1948): meant as a plea for humane treatment in asylums, it now looks as crude as the shock treatment it advocated.
She won her second Oscar in 1949, for William Wyler’s The Heiress, an adaptation of Henry James’s novella Washington Square. Near the end of the film, De Havilland, bundled up in knitted mittens and tippets to conceal her natural glamour, addresses Montgomery Clift, playing a fortune-hunter who years earlier failed to elope with her.
She refuses him another chance. She can be cruel, she says: “I’ve been taught by masters.” You don’t quite believe the cruelty, but you do believe the strength behind the delivery. De Havilland was accused of being unsympathetic, but it took nerve to play a woman who achieves a solitary dignity only after being derided and rejected by father and would-be lover, and it was one of her finest roles.
De Havilland was just into her 30s, yet her career was petering out: her hard-won savvy was not overtly sexual enough. She was offered Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire, but felt uncomfortable with the lewdness in the role, which went to Leigh. Fontaine had broken through in Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca; De Havilland’s du Maurier film, My Cousin Rachel (1952), was more like a valediction.
She appeared on Broadway as Juliet in 1951, more plausibly as the Shavian wife Candida in 1952, and returned, alongside Henry Fonda, in A Gift of Time, in 1962.
Like other ageing female stars in the 1960s, she was tormented viciously onscreen, beside Davis in Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1964), and in Sam Peckinpah’s television movie Noon Wine (1966). In the 70s and 80s, retreating to small TV roles, she won a Golden Globe in Anastasia: The Mystery of Anna (1986).
Born in Tokyo, Olivia was the daughter of British parents, Lillian (nee Ruse), an actor, and Walter de Havilland, a patent lawyer related to the family of aviators. After separating from Walter, Lillian took the three-year-old Olivia and the infant Joan to California. Her paternal family originated in the Channel Islands; her cousin Geoffrey was the aircraft designer responsible for producing the famous second world war plane, the Mosquito.
Olivia went to a convent school and, at 17, was spotted in a college production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The director Max Reinhardt, on the lookout for girls with appearances classier than the local cheerleader norm, cast her as Hermia in the same play, first live in the Hollywood Bowl and then in the Warner Brothers film of 1935: “You are my discovering!” he boasted.
De Havilland had early been a member of the screen actors’ union and was a staunch liberal, campaigning for Franklin D Roosevelt and Harry Truman; in 1958 she was called before the House Un-American Activities Committee, then in its dying throes. The US gave her the National Medal of Arts in 2008, France made her a chevalier of the Légion d’honneur in 2010, and in 2017 she was made a DBE.
In the docudrama series Feud: Bette and Joan (2017), chronicling the rivalry between Davis and Joan Crawford, De Havilland was portrayed by Catherine Zeta-Jones. The real-life De Havilland objected to how its creators “used my identity without my consent and put false words in my mouth, including having me publicly calling my sister, Joan Fontaine, a ‘bitch’.” But in March 2018 a California appeals court dismissed her lawsuit on grounds of free speech.
There were romances with James Stewart and John Huston before she married, in 1946, and divorced, in 1952, the novelist Marcus Goodrich, with whom she had a son, Benjamin, who died in 1991.
She met Pierre Galante, then editor of the magazine Paris-Match, at the 1955 Cannes film festival, and moved to France after their marriage. They divorced in 1979, but she cared for him in his last illness in 1998; their daughter, Gisèle, survives her.
• Olivia Mary de Havilland, actor, born 1 July 1916; died 26 July 2020
Cathleen Nesbitt hailed from Belfast where she attended Queen’s University. In 1911 she joined the Irish Players and performed with them in the U.S. in Synge’s “The Well of the Saints” and “The Playboy of the Western World”. She was the love of the poet Rupert Brooke who was to die in World War One. An interesting article on their releationship can be sourced on the Telegraph website here.
Over the next thirty years she made many British theatre and film appearances. In 1951 she was on Broadway with Audrey Hepburn in “Gigi” and made her first American film in 1953 which was “Three Coins in the Fountain”. In 1956 she was back on Broadway again in “My Fair Lady”.Her last film was in 1980 when she made “The Never Never Land” at the age of 92. She died two years later.
IMDB entry:
The Calendar by Edgar Wallace (1875-1932), 1929. Lady Panniford, played by Cathleen Nesbitt (1888-1982), left, and Garry Anson, played bu Owen Nares (1888-1943), right. The Play, vol. 55, no. 331, (Photo by Culture Club/Getty Images) *** Local Caption ***Family Plot, lobbycard, (aka LA TRAMA), left top to bottom: Karen Black, Bruce Dern, Barbara Harris, Alfred Hitchcock, center from left: Cathleen Nesbitt, Barbara Harris, 1976. (Photo by LMPC via Getty Images)
Diminutive, genteel Cathleen Nesbitt was a grand dame of the theatre on both sides of the Atlantic in a career spanning seven decades. Among almost 300 roles on stage, she excelled at comic portrayals of sophisticated socialites and elegant mothers. Hollywood used her, whenever a gentler, sweeter version of Gladys Cooper was needed, yet someone still possessed of a subtly sarcastic wit and turn of phrase. Cathleen attended Queen’s University in Belfast and the Sorbonne in Paris. Encouraged by a friend of her father – none other than the legendary Sarah Bernhardt – to enter the acting profession, she was taken on by Victorian actress and drama teacher Rosina Filippi (1866-1930). Cathleen’s first appearance on stage was in 1910 at the Royalty Theatre in London. This was followed in November 1911 by her Broadway debut with the touring Abbey Theatre Players in ‘The Well of the Saints’.
From here on, and for the rest of her long life, she was never out of a job, demonstrating her range and versatility by playing anything from villainesses to being a much acclaimed Kate in Shakespeare’s ‘The Taming of the Shrew’, Perdita in ‘The Winter’s Tale’, Audrey Hepburn‘s grandaunt in ‘Gigi’, the Dowager Empress in ‘Anastasia’ and the gossipy ‘humorously animated’ Julia Shuttlethwaite of T.S. Eliot‘s ‘The Cocktail Party’. Her Mrs. Higgins in ‘My Fair Lady’, Brooks Atkinson described as played with ‘grace and elegance’, which also pretty much sums up Cathleen’s career in films.
Her first motion picture role was a lead in the drama The Faithful Heart (1922), adapted from an Irish play. She then absented herself from the screen for the next decade, resurfacing in supporting roles in British films, though rarely cast in worthy parts, possible exceptions being Man of Evil (1944) and Jassy (1947). Her strengths were rather better showcased during her sojourn in Hollywood, which began in 1952. In addition to prolific appearances in anthology television, she also appeared in several big budget films, most memorably as Cary Grant‘s perspicacous grandmother in An Affair to Remember (1957) and as gossipy Lady Matheson (alongside Gladys Cooper) in Separate Tables (1958). One of her last roles of note was as Julia Rainbird, who instigates the mystery in Alfred Hitchcock‘s final film, Family Plot (1976).
On the instigation of her friend Anita Loos, author of ‘Gentlemen Prefer Blondes’, Cathleen wrote her memoirs, ‘A Little Love and Good Company’ in 1977. For her extraordinarily long career in the acting profession, she was awarded a CBE in the Queen’s Honours List the following year. She retired just two years prior to her death in 1983 at the age of 93.
– IMDb Mini Biography By: I.S.Mowis
The above IMDB entry can also be accessed online here.
Her obituary in “The Los Angeles Times” can be accessed here.
Pier Angeli was born in 1932 and was an Italian-born television and film actress. Her American cinematographic debut was in the starring role of the 1951 film Teresa, for which she won a Golden Globe Award for Young Star of the Year – Actress. She had one son with Vic Damone, her first husband, and another son with Armando Trovajoli, her second husband. Her twin sister is the actress Marisa Pavan.
During the 1960s and until 1970, Angeli lived and worked in Britain and Europe, and was often screen-credited under her birth name, Anna Maria Pierangeli. Her performance in The Angry Silence (1960) was nominated for a Best Foreign Actress BAFTA, and she was reunited with Stewart Granger for Sodom and Gomorrah (1963), in which she played Lot’s wife. She had a brief role in the war epic Battle of the Bulge (1965). 1968 found Angeli in Israel, top billed in Every Bastard a King, about events during that nation’s recent war.
According to Kirk Douglas‘ autobiography, he and Angeli were engaged in the 1950s after meeting on the set of the film The Story of Three Loves (1953). Angeli also had a brief romantic relationship with James Dean. She broke it off because her mother was not happy with their relationship as he was not Catholic.
Angeli was married to singer and actor Vic Damone from 1954 to 1958. During their marriage, they appeared as guests on the June 17, 1956 episode of What’s My Line?. Their divorce was followed by highly publicized court battles for the custody of their only child, son Perry (1955–2014).
Angeli next married Italian composer Armando Trovajoli in 1962. She had another son, Howard, in 1963. She and Trovajoli were separated in 1969.
In 1971, at the age of 39, Angeli was found dead of a barbiturate overdose at her home in Beverly Hills. She is interred in the Cimetière des Bulvis in Rueil-Malmaison, Hauts-de-Seine, France.
Robert Wagner recently celebrated his 90th birthday and he is still making movies after sixtyseven years in show business. He published his autobiography “Pieces of My Heart” in 2008. He first came to public attention as the young injured soldier in “With A Song in My Heart” which starred Susan Hayward. He had a contract with 20th Century Fox and throughout the 50’s he made some very popular films including “Beneath the Twelve Mile Reef”, “Prince Valient”, “A Kiss before Dying”, “Broken Lance”, “Titanic” and “In Love and War”. In the 1960’s he made the transition to television and over the years he had several popular series including “Hart to Hart”. More recently he has starred in the Austin Power movies. Robert Wagner’s website can be accessed here.
TCM Overview:
The epitome of the handsome and debonair Hollywood star, actor Robert Wagner – known to friends as “R.J.” – played romantic heroes and upstanding young men in a string of mostly unmemorable 1950s-60s-era features, before finding lasting fame as one of television’s smoothest-of-the-smooth leading men. Wagner brought old-school class to the ABC action-drama “It Takes a Thief” (ABC, 1968-1970) and, more importantly, showed a knack for light comedy with his roles in “Switch” (CBS, 1975-1980) and “Hart to Hart” (ABC, 1979-1984). He also made headlines in his personal life – most notably for being half of one of Hollywood’s most beloved couples – after marrying the beautiful Natalie Wood – not once but TWICE. It was her tragic, mysterious death by drowning which sealed their legend and caused an outpouring of love and support for the actor.
Original Cinema Quad Poster – Movie Film Posters
This good will carried over year after year as the veteran actor aged gracefully, settled into a happy marriage with actress Jill St. John, and was always welcomed warmly with numerous appearances on both the big and small screen – most memorably as Mike Meyer’s Number Two in the “Austin Powers” film franchise. Born Robert John Wagner Jr. on Feb. 10, 1930 in Detroit, MI, Wagner’s father was a steel industry executive, leaving the family to relocate to Los Angeles when he was in grade school. He was expected to follow in his father’s footsteps, but after a turn in drag (as Priscilla Alden) in a high school production of “The Courtship of Miles Standish,” Wagner began to think about acting as his profession. A job at the Bel-Air Country Club, where he caddied to such stars as Clark Gable, gave him further inspiration, so he announced to his father than he intended to become an actor. Robert Wagner Sr. gave his son an ultimatum – he would have one year to find success in Hollywood or quit and get into the steel business. Fortunately for Wagner Jr., his first job came shortly after his father’s declaration with a bit part in “The Happy Years” (1950). More small roles followed, but his appearance as a hospitalized paratrooper in “With a Song in My Heart” (1952), about American singer Jane Froman (Susan Hayward), led to a contract with 20th Century Fox. Supporting roles in notable films like John Ford’s “What Price Glory” (1952) and the John Phillip Sousa biopic “Stars and Stripes Forever” (1953) – for which he earned a Golden Globe nomination – eventually led to starring roles – though pictures like “Beneath the 12-Mile Reef” (1953) and “Prince Valiant” (1954) asked little more of him than to look handsome. It took the intervention of actor Spencer Tracy to pull him out of the teen idol doldrums. The much respected Tracy took the young man under his wing and asked that he be cast as his son Joseph, who is tormented by his brothers for being half-Native American, in the dramatic Western “Broken Lance” (1954). The opportunity led to other substantial parts for Wagner, including “A Kiss Before Dying” (1956), which had him playing against type as a psychotic killer, and “Between Heaven and Hell,” for which he played a wealthy playboy who undergoes an emotional transformation during World War II. Wagner underwent a transformation of his own in 1956 when he became involved with another up-and-coming talent, former child actress (“Miracle on 34th Street” (1947)), Natalie Wood. The attractive pair was splashed across numerous magazine covers, and their marriage in 1957 earned them even further press. But their personal lives and careers floundered. Despite having proven his talents, Wagner’s status as a leading man faltered in the late ’50s and early ’60s, and after Wood’s contract was suspended for refusing to appear in a film in Europe, the couple experienced significant financial difficulties.
The pressures caused a strain on their marriage, and Wagner and Wood eventually divorced in 1962. They would later admit that they were simply too young to get married. Extremely distraught, Wagner fled to Europe, where he appeared as a soldier in the war epic, “The Longest Day” (1962). While there, he met and became involved with a fellow actor, Marion Marshall. The new couple was married in 1963, and a daughter, Katie, followed in 1964. Wagner’s film career slowed considerably during the 1960s. He enjoyed a few notable projects, including “The Pink Panther” (1963) – he was blinded for a month after an accident on the set involving industrial cleaning agents – and two films with Paul Newman – “Harper” (1966) and the racing drama “Winning” (1969) – but for the most part, he was tapped for his good looks and resonant voice in forgettable movies like “Don’t Just Stand There!” (1968) and “The Biggest Bundle of Them All” (1969. In 1968, he took the supposed step down by signing on to his first television series with “It Takes a Thief.” As a suave burglar turned spy, Wagner’s looks and charm were a considerable asset. Although the show lasted just two seasons, it gave his star a considerable boost, earning him his second Golden Globe nomination and first Emmy nod. From 1970, Wagner worked constantly and almost exclusively on television, guesting on series like “The Streets of San Francisco” (ABC, 1972-77) and the acclaimed World War II drama, “Colditz” (BBC, 1972-74). He also reunited romantically with Wood after a chance encounter in 1971. Though Wood was married and with a daughter at the time (future actress Natasha Gregson Wagner), the couple reignited their relationship, and, to the delight of true romance fans everywhere, remarried in 1972. A daughter, Courtney, was born in 1974 – their only biological child together.
Finally happy together, Wagner and Wood appeared in several highly regarded television projects, most notably a production of “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” (1976) with Laurence Olivier as Big Daddy. Wagner also made several theatrical features during this period, including the star-packed “The Towering Inferno” (1974) and “Midway” (1976). In addition to all his responsibilities, he found time to dabble in TV production, offering up to producer Aaron Spelling an idea he and Wood had conjured up; an idea which blossomed into the iconic jiggle show of them all – “Charlie’s Angels” (ABC, 1976-1981). In 1975, Wagner starred in his second series, “Switch,” a drama co-starring his lifelong friend, Eddie Albert, whom he had met on the set of “The Longest Day.” The pair played detectives who specialized in elaborate cons to trap criminals. A relatively popular series, it lasted two seasons before ending its network run in 1978. The following year, Wagner signed on to play millionaire Jonathan Hart, who dabbled in detective work with his wife Jennifer (Stephanie Powers), in “Hart to Hart.” Created by novelist Sidney Sheldon and produced by Aaron Spelling, the series was glossy, campy fun and a huge hit. Wagner earned numerous Golden Globe and Emmy nods for his tongue-in-cheek work. network run in 1983, Wagner was only too content to concentrate solely on raising his three daughters. But Wagner’s popularity did not allow him to stay away for too long. By 1985, he was appearing regularly in episodic series and TV movies, including the short-lived drama series, “Lime Street” (CBS, 1985) – which was touched by tragedy when, only a few episodes in, Wagner’s onscreen daughter, Samantha Smith, died in a plane crash, hastening the series’ demise.
He hosted “Saturday Night Live” (NBC, 1975- ) in 1989, and appeared in a string of popular “Hart to Hart” reunion TV-movies between 1993-96. Wagner also took time from his newly busy schedule in 1990 to marry actress and long-time girlfriend, Jill St. John, with whom he appeared in many stage productions for charity. Still undeniably handsome as he reached his sixth decade, Wagner settled comfortably into the role of “old Hollywood pro,” contributing numerous supporting turns in big budget films like “Wild Things” (1997), “Crazy in Alabama” (1999) and “Play It To The Bone” (1999). He even parodied his own smooth-as-silk image, starring as the diabolical but dense Number Two, henchman to Dr. Evil in “Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery” (1997), “Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me” (1999), and briefly in “Austin Powers in Goldmember” (2002). In the latter film, Wagner shared the role with Rob Lowe, who played a younger version of Number Two and who offered a note-perfect imitation of Wagner’s plummy voice and gentlemanly demeanor.
Robert Wagner
Wagner remained exceptionally busy for the next few years, appearing on countless television shows and providing his unique perspective on Hollywood for many show business documentaries. He also served as the host for the “Hour of Stars” (Fox Movie Channel, 2002- ), which showcased episodes from the TV anthology series “The 20th Century Fox Hour” (CBS, 1955-57), on which Wagner had once appeared. Long considered one of the most pleasant and friendly men in the entertainment business, Wagner showed an aggressive side in 2000, when he sued Aaron Spelling Productions for breach of contract over his participation in a failed revival of “Charlie’s Angels” called “Angels 88.” He filed suit again in 2003 for profits from the “Angels” theatrical features, but a California appeals court ruled against him in 2007. Back onscreen and staying contemporary for the kiddies, Wagner made memorable guest appearances on hit shows like “Las Vegas” (NBC, 2003- ), “Hope & Faith” (ABC, 2003-06) and “Boston Legal” (ABC, 2004- )
Joseph Cotten obituary in “The Independent” in 1994
Joseph Cotten has starred in many of the all time classic films including !”Citizen Kane”, “The Magnificent Ambersons”, “Shadow of a Doubt”, “Portrait of Jeannie”, “Duel In the Sun”, “Love Letters”, “September Song” and “The Third Man”. His leading ladies have included such screen beauties as Jennifer Jones, Deanna Durbin, Teresa Wright, Loretta Young, Ava Gardner, Olivia de Havilland, Dorothy Malone, Alida Valli and Patricia Medina. Ms Medina became his wife in 1960. Joseph Cotten died at the age of 88.
The 1994 obituary in “The Independent”:
THERE was no one else quite like Joseph Cotten. He holds a high place in the Hollywood hierarchy, as Orson Welles’s friend and collaborator and as a star of the Forties whom the girls pinned up alongside Clark Gable and Gregory Peck. He was tall, rugged, handsome, with wavy hair and a courteous demeanour, especially towards women. Like Robert Taylor and Errol Flynn immediately before him, Cotten was emulated by the models for pullover patterns in women’s magazines, which now featured romantic heroes looking very much like him.
Cotten worked with Welles’s Mercury Theatre, on the stage and radio, from 1937 – taking time out to star opposite Katharine Hepburn in The Philadelphia Story (1940). When Welles was offered a contract by RKO he cast his first film, Citizen Kane (1941), almost entirely with his Mercury colleagues. The brouhaha which surrounded the film – that Hollywood’s wonder-boy was making a mockery of the newspaper tycoon William Randolph Hearst – meant that Cotten’s smooth performance as a drama critic was overlooked. Its very notoriety augured badly for Welles’s second film, The Magnificent Ambersons (1942), which was sent out in support of one of the ‘Mexican Spitfire’ cheapie series in the US and denied a West End showing in Britain.
Cotten wrote to Welles – who was in South America – about one of the previews of Ambersons, when a receptive audience became indifferent and then hostile. The film still inspires strong feelings, because of its brilliance, both technically and as an evocation of the American past; and because it was hacked about in Welles’s absence and had inserted in it some late sequences not by Welles at all. In the circumstances Cotten’s performance – as the faithful suitor of the widowed Isobel Amberson (Dolores Costello) – was again overlooked.
This second debacle put Welles in a precarious position in the industry, and he rushed into production a commercial thriller, Journey Into Fear (1942), based on a novel by Eric Ambler and with the direction credited to Norman Foster. This was again heavily cut, to just over an hour, though a longer version was issued the following year.
When RKO cancelled Welles’s contract, David O. Selznick signed Cotten, and loaned him and Hitchcock to Universal for Shadow Of a Doubt (1943), to play the beloved and admired Uncle Charlie, prepared to kill again when his niece (Teresa Wright) suspects that he is the perpetrator of the ‘Merry Widow’ murders. As the Johnny- on-the-Spot in Journey Into Fear Cotten had been likeable but unable to suggest desperation: but for Hitchcock he was superb, masking deadly menace with a suave charm.
He stayed at Universal to be the handsome flyer for whose sake the headstrong Deanna Durbin goes to work in a munitions factory in Hers To Hold (1943). He was an idealised hero and ideal as such, and Durbin’s yen for him at a time when she was a leading box-office star shot him into the front rank of sought-after actors. He was the Scotland Yard man who comforted Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight (1944), after Charles Boyer has tried to scare her to death; and the handsome family friend, dazzling in his white uniform, ready to step in if Claudette Colbert’s husband is killed at the front, in Since You Went Away (1944).
Selznick produced that (and wrote the script), also using Cotten in the last three films he made for his own company: I’ll Be Seeing You (1945), as a shell-shocked soldier; Duel in the Sun (1946), fighting with his dastardly brother Gregory Peck over the half-breed Jennifer Jones; and Portrait of Jennie (1948), as an artist who meets Jones in Central Park and later realises that she is less substantial than his painting of her. Like I’ll Be Seeing You, this was directed by William Dieterle, who had worked with them earlier at Paramount in Love Letters (1946).
Also at Paramount Dieterle helmed September Affair (1950), which cynics saw as Hollywood’s ‘take’ on Brief Encounter, with Joan Fontaine and Cotten committing adultery in an impossibly lush Italy; but since it starts with views of the Bay of Naples to Walter Huston’s version of ‘September Song’ the viewer may stay in a high mood till the end.
A reunion with Hitchcock was dicey at best: Under Capricorn (1949), with Cotten as an unfeeling ex-convict husband in old Sydney to an alcoholic Ingrid Bergman, overlaying her Swedish accent with an Irish one. Another 1949 reunion was in a triumphant project, with Cotten a writer searching for his old buddy Harry Lime in The Third Man: Welles was Harry, Selznick co-produced with Alexander Korda, and Carol Reed directed from Graham Greene’s screenplay.
With his Selznick contract at an end Cotten’s career began to founder. His last really memorable work is to be seen in two films in which he was cast with two of the screen’s more formidable stars: Bette Davis and Marilyn Monroe. The two films are, alike, melodramas to be enjoyed on their own terms: Beyond the Forest (1949), with Cotten as the husband Davis is running away from – and, as she said, ‘Who would want to leave Joe Cotten?’; and Niagara (1953), as the honeymooning husband Monroe wants to be rid of, trying to persuade her lover to push him into the Falls.
During the Fifties Cotten returned to Broadway and in 1960 he married, as his second wife, Patricia Medina, the British actor Richard Greene’s ex-wife. They were among Hollywood’s happiest couples, as Cotten confirmed in his memoir Vanity Will Get You Somewhere (1987): so it clearly did not matter that he had appeared in mostly junky films for almost 40 years, including telemovies and spaghetti westerns. But the old spark was there when he was challenged, as when cast as an alcoholic rancher with Kirk Douglas, in The Last Sunset (1961); and as a scheming doctor with Davis in Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte (1964).
The above “Independent” obituary can also be accessed online here.
Margaret O’Brien was a child star of the 1940s was best known for her natural, emotional style and her startling facility for tears. As Maxine O’Brien (her birth name), she first appeared in a civil defense film starring James Cagney, then in a bit in “Babes on Broadway” (both 1941). Sensing her potential, MGM signed her, changed her first name to Margaret and starred her in the tour de force “Journey for Margaret” (1942), as a terrified London war orphan who “adopts” reporter Robert Young. It was an adult, intelligent and slightly scary performance which made her an overnight star. The studio didn’t quite know what to do with her after that as she wasn’t an adorable Shirley Temple type. She was loaned out to Fox for “Jane Eyre” (1944) and was pretty much wasted in such MGM films as “Dr. Gillespie’s Criminal Case”, “Lost Angel” and “Madame Curie” (all 1943), although she had a slightly better part in “The Canterville Ghost” (1944), opposite Charles Laughton.
O’Brien’s next big showcase came with “Meet Me in St. Louis” (1944). As Tootie Smith, the feisty but fragile little sister of Judy Garland, she was a bright point in a very good film, especially in her musical numbers with Garland and during a Halloween sequence in which she confronts a grouchy neighbor. For her performance, she was awarded a special juvenile Oscar. Her next two features, “Music for Millions” (1944) and the drama “Our Vines Have Tender Grapes” (1945) were also impressive, but her luck pretty much wore out after that. Her last MGM films were generally unimpressive: the Western “Bad Bascombe” and the comedy “Three Wise Fools” (both 1946) and the melodrama “The Big City” (1948). Two good roles came her way in 1949, as the tragic Beth in an otherwise unremarkable remake of “Little Women” and as Mary Lennox in “The Secret Garden.”
O’Brien left MGM after that and her film career pretty much tapered off. She played her first love scene (at age 14) in the appropriately-titled low-budget “Her First Romance” (1951) for Columbia and had ingenue roles in “Glory” (1955) and in the all-star Western “Heller in Pink Tights” (1960). Her only other films to date have been the Disney-produced period drama “Amy” (1981) and a cameo in the direct-to-video horror spoof “Sunset After Dark” (1994).
TENTH AVENUE ANGEL, US poster, from left: George Murphy, Angela Lansbury, Margaret O Brien, 1948 Courtesy Everett Collection ACHTUNG AUFNAHMEDATUM GESCHÄTZT PUBLICATIONxINxGERxSUIxAUTxONLY Copyright: xCourtesyxEverettxCollectionx MCDTEAV EC006
But as soon as her film contract had ended, the teenaged actress plunged into “the Golden Age of Television”. Deluged with offers, O’Brien acted on such anthology series as “Studio One”, “The Lux Video Theater”, “Ford Television Theater”, “Playhouse 90” and “The June Allyson Show”. O’Brien reprised her big screen role of Beth in a TV musical version of “Little Women” (CBS, 1958), alongside Florence Henderson, Jeanie Carson and Joel Grey. A pilot for her own series, the domestic sitcom “Maggie” (CBS, 1960), did not fly. But as she aged from teen to slightly plump young lady and into svelte, lovely middle age, O’Brien continued to appear on the small screen from time to time, turning up in such longforms as the “Ironside” TV-movie “Split Second to an Epitaph” (NBC, 1968) and the miniseries “Testimony of Two Men” (syndicated, 1977) and making guest appearances on such series as “Love, American Style” (1968), “Adam-12” (1971), “Marcus Welby, M.D.” (1972) and “Murder, She Wrote” (1991). O’Brien has also appeared onstage in summer stock and cruise ship productions of “Barefoot in the Park”, “Under the Yum-Yum Tree”, “A Thousand Clowns” and others.
The above TCM overview can also be accessed online here
Although Margaret O’Brien’s career as a top star was brief, retrospectively she is regarded as one of the best child actors ever, second only to Shirley Temple. Indeed many people consider O’Brien to be more talented than Temple.
Her first main role was in “Journey for Margaret” in 1942 and throughout the World War Two years, she was in the Top Ten most popular actors in the U.S. Career highlights include “Meet Me in St. Louis”, “The Canterville Ghost”, “Little Women” and “The Secret Garden”. As she grew into her teenage years, she found it difficult to obtain leading roles. She tested for “Rebal Without A Caouse” but lost out to her friend Natalie Wood. Recently she has been seen regularly on television and at film conventions talking about the Golden Days of Film. Her website can be assessed here.
Dubbed the ‘new Grace Kelly’, Irish actress Constance Smith was a big-screen starlet before drink and drug addiction led her to an impoverished death 10 years ago. As a fusion of dark beauty queen, femme fatale and flawed heroine, Smith was a film performer whose own life might have served the plot of a lush fifties melodrama, say one directed by Douglas Sirk.
Constance who?
People might wonder if they’ve either forgotten her name or never even heard of her, but in the 1950s she was a promising Hollywood newcomer to the Fox studio and presented an award at the 1952 Oscars, a responsibility that carries the peer respect of the film industry. She was born impoverished in Limerick city, in 1928 and last month marked 10 years since her death, in London, almost penniless and almost completely forgotten.
Despite this, Smith’s lifetime experiences almost reflected the arc traced by any memorable movie character or story protagonist. Talk about ups and downs. Smith followed a path from poverty to celebrity to notoriety to obscurity. As a young actress she was, for a short period, the special muse of Darryl F. Zanuck, invited and initially welcomed into the rarefied air of Hollywood.
As an older woman she was, for a short period, the special guest of Her Majesty, imprisoned for knifing her husband in a drunken domestic dispute. The husband, maverick documentary maker Paul Rotha, escorted her to the prison gates and met her there on her release. Smith and Rotha then remained a couple, on and off, for decades until his death.
But Smith’s dusky sexual allure always had a bewitching effect on her men. She had three husbands, including one who was the son to an Italian Fascist senator, who regarded his daughter-in-law as a shoeless Irish peasant. More significantly, she married Bryan Forbes, the challenging British film-maker who madeWhistle Down the Wind (1961) and The L-Shaped Room (1962).
Forbes witnessed first-hand how the studio system first supported then crushed Smith in her Hollywood career, and it’s tempting to imagine that some of what he saw influenced his dystopian sci-fi drama The Stepford Wives (1975).
Having been first cosseted by Zanuck and the Fox studio, Smith was summarily dumped. Fox had forced her into an abortion and tried, unsuccessfully, to make her change her name. Forbes later wrote: “When the blow fell… the Hollywood system allowed of no mercy. She was reduced to the status of a Hindu road sweeper.” The difficulty for Smith was making her mark in American cinema when Irish performers were thought suited to mildly-exotic, fiery or fantastical roles, rather than the darker, sultry ones that fitted her looks. Yet with Jack Palance in Man in the Attic (1951) and in Impulse (1957), she showed signature noir-like qualities. Palance once called her the “Dublin Dietrich”
. Elsewhere she was dubbed “an intelligent man’s Elizabeth Taylor” and she was frequently termed the new Maureen O’Hara or Grace Kelly. Smith originally earned her chance in movies by winning a Hedy Lamarr look-a-like competition and perhaps her acting development was hindered by constant comparisons to established figures. Later, when she fell out of the limelight and into drink and drugs addiction,
15th October 1955: Irish film actress Constance Smith (1928 – 2003) is featured for the cover of Picture Post magazine. Original Publication: Picture Post Cover – Vol 69 No 03 – pub. 1955. (Photo by IPC Magazines/Picture Post/Hulton Archive/Getty Images)
she worked as a cleaner and workmates remarked that she looked familiar but they couldn’t place her. “It seems regrettable that Constance Smith should have been so completely forgotten given that she was once, if briefly, a Hollywood star,” observes Ruth Barton, film scholar and author of Acting Irish in Hollywood.
It’s to Barton’s credit that she does the proper work of an historian, which is to retrieve from the past those details that make us rethink what we believe we know. How few of us knew there was an Irish film figure of such intrigue? We might nowadays recall Smith’s name with the likes of O’Sullivan, O’Hara and Kelly, had her fortunes not turned so sour. In Emeralds in Tinseltown, Steve Brennan and Bernadette O’Neil’s glossy span of the Irish influence upon Hollywood, the authors relegate Smith to the also-rans section. Barton, meanwhile, rescues her from the dustbin of history.
But while we should remember Constance Smith, we should not pity her. While perhaps we should mourn her as a faded talent, we should not patronise her as a tragic victim. Instead, she was a survivor, even an inspiring one, who found some success in a most demanding field, absorbing the blows as best she could when the sinister side of that success turned upon her.
Perhaps Hollywood was over-subscribed with dark-haired beauties in the forties and fifties, when Dorothy Lamour, Jane Russell, Gene Tierney and Ava Gardner literally dominated the scene.
Certainly we should not see Constance Smith as tragic merely because she lost her fame, a phenomenon that’s often a hollow reed. What’s sad is that she never fully realised her potential as a drama performer, even while her own life was so dramatic.
She was not quite right for those flamboyant, flame-haired roles played by Maureen O’Hara or the pristine, ice-queen personas of Grace Kelly. She was more a Scarlett O’Hara type, who rolled with the punches as her world crumbled around her, and lived by the mantra that “tomorrow is another day.”
For Irish Post article on Constance Smith, please click here.
Limerick Life article in 2016.
Constance Smith was born in 1928 at 46 Wolfe Tone Street, just a short walk from Limerick train station. It was to be an auspicious sign for the little girl who would grow to be a celebrated actor; her extraordinary life would transport her from that small terraced house in Limerick to a convent in Dublin, from a Hollywood mansion to an Italian villa and finally, from Holloway Prison to a sad, troubled end in a London hostel.
While most film fans are familiar with Irish movie stars of the past such as Maureen O’Hara, Peter O’Toole and Richard Harris, few people, even in Limerick, are aware of Constance Smith and her short-lived Hollywood career. Ruth Barton is an academic and author of Acting Irish in Hollywood: from Fitzgerald to Farrell in which she dedicates a chapter to Constance Smith, to retrieve her and other lost stars “from historical oblivion”. Much of what you’ll read below emanates from her painstaking research.
Constance Smith was born to Mary Biggane, a Limerick native, and Sylvester Smith, a former British soldier and veteran of World War One. Initially, her father, a Dubliner, worked as a labourer at the Ardnacrusha plant, but when the project was completed in 1929, he moved his family back to the capital. There they settled in a one-room tenement in Mount Pleasant Buildings, Ranelagh, described by the Irish Times as a ghetto, “used by the Corporation as dumping grounds for problem families.”
Life was arduous and often dangerous in the slums of Mount Pleasant. Communal toilets were poorly maintained, overflowing rubbish bins were infested with rats, and cold, lung-choking air seeped through the damp brick walls; it was little wonder that Irish infant mortality rates were among the highest in Europe at the time. Indeed, many of Constance’s ten siblings did not make it to adulthood.
The only respite from the grinding poverty was a sort of ad-hoc community theatre which developed among the residents. Groups gathered together in the evenings, sang songs from penny-sheets, performed skits for one another and, if the owner was feeling generous, listened through open windows to the street’s one wireless radio. It was in this way that Constance likely received her first training in the dramatic arts.
Constance’s father died when she fifteen. Unable to support her surviving children on her own, Mary Biggane sent her daughter to St. Louis Convent School in Rathmines. The headstrong teenager escaped early, however, taking casual jobs as a shop girl and housemaid to support herself.
It was this latter position that set her on the path to stardom. In 1945 she was placed in a ‘big house’ in Rathmines and the family for whom she worked encouraged her to enter a ‘Film Star Doubles’ contest in The Screen, an Irish film-industry publication. She went on to take first place – dressed as Hedy Lamarr in a borrowed dress – at the magazine’s ball, attended by local actors, theatre producers and crucially, international talent scouts.
She was invited to screen-test at Denham Studios in England by Rank Organisation, who saw potential in the beautiful, sultry-eyed young woman. In 1946 she signed a seven year contract with the group and was put through the rigours of their ‘charm school’ at Highbury, in London. This was essentially a factory for starlets, in which young ingénues were taught elocution, breathing exercises and comportment, along with more traditional drama lessons and script rehearsals. Objecting, perhaps, to spending her time balancing books on her head, Constance lasted only a few years in the school. She resisted attempts to change her name (‘Tamara Hickey’ was suggested, straddling the line between thrillingly exotic and reassuringly local) and steadfastly clung to her Irish accent, a refusal which eventually led to her dismissal from Rank Organisation. Her private life was faring better, however, as she became engaged to British film producer John Boulting.
Once again, life was to take a fortuitous turn for Constance. She won a small part playing an Irish maid in the film The Mudlockin 1950, receiving £20 per day for five weeks. In four short years, she had come a long way from a position as a housemaid for £2 a week. She was spotted in this film by Darryl Zanuck, a legendary Hollywood mogul and co-founder of the movie studio 20th Century Fox. He took a close interest in her – whether his intentions were purely professional is unknown – and championed her as an undiscovered star. She was granted a seven year contract with the studio and placed opposite Tyrone Power in The House in the Square, to begin shooting in London in 1950. The movie was a big, all-star production, and the media fanfare began early.
However, the young, untrained actor struggled to perform alongside experienced heavy-weights such as Power. Midway through filming she found herself unceremoniously dumped from the picture, losing all the publicity and career momentum it had brought. The studio cited illness, and replaced her with Ann Blyth, reshooting all her scenes at a rumoured cost of £100,000. Constance was devastated, but found comfort on the shoulder of a successful British actor named Bryan Forbes (best known for directing The Stepford Wives, 1975), whom she married in 1951.
Back in Hollywood, she found herself packaged and presented as a beautiful but feisty Irish ‘colleen’, the new Maureen O’Sullivan (remembered as Jane in the Tarzan movies). Whether acting on her own volition or that of the studio’s, Constance had an abortion just before Christmas of 1951. 20th Century Fox paid the $3,000 fee.
Her marriage failed soon after, but her career was steady. She shot a number of films, receiving praise for her sensuous, noirish performances from fellow actors (Jack Palance referred to her as the ‘Dublin Dietrich’) and the occasional breathless review from critics. One paper, in the parlance of the time, noted that she possessed “a pair of the nicest gams to ever leave the Old Sod.” In 1952 she was invited to present a trophy at the Annual Academy Awards.
Having parted company with 20th Century Fox, she signed with Bob Goldstein in 1954, who promptly put her to work filming the thriller Tiger in the Tail, in London. Frustrated by the lack of first-rate roles, she left for Italy in 1955, casting off her rebel charm to reinvent herself as the descendent of Irish aristocrats. There, she met an Italian photographer named Araldo di Crollolanza and married him a year later, at the age of twenty-eight. His father – a Fascist senator who had served under Mussolini – reportedly disinherited his son upon learning of the union, even going so far as to refer to his new daughter-in-law as a ‘barefoot Irish peasant’. She made four films in Italy, but her career began to falter and she took an overdose of sleeping tablets in 1958. Her husband left her and she returned to England.
In 1959 she met Paul Rotha, a married man of fifty-two and a much-celebrated filmmaker and writer. They couldn’t have made a more different pair; a neat, precise and serious Englishman, who fell in love with a tempestuous, free-spirited and creative Irishwoman. Theirs was a predictably fiery relationship, only made more difficult by their mutual propensity for hard drinking. They shared similar socialist-leaning political beliefs though, both avowedly anti-fascist and anti-imperialist. Constance was no longer acting, but she remained well-known in film-industry circles in London. She was, one contemporary noted, ‘an intelligent man’s Elizabeth Taylor’.
Together, she and Rotha travelled to Germany to research a documentary on Adolf Hitler’s life. There, they met close aides to the dictator, as well as survivors of the concentration camps. She was said to be greatly affected by this experience.
In 1961, the couple visited Constance’s birthplace, calling to the house on Wolfe Tone Street in Limerick. They were greeted with much fanfare by Constance’s former neighbours, many of whom clamoured for photographs and autographs. The purpose of the visit, Rotha told reporters, was for research – he intended to write a book on his Constance’s life, entitled ‘A Weed in the Ground’, a project which failed to materialise.
Back in London, the couple’s relationship was growing increasingly turbulent. Their fights were frequent and quite often physical; after one altercation Rotha’s face was so badly bruised that he had to postpone an overseas trip. In 1961 a particularly nasty row very nearly turned fatal when Constance stabbed Rotha, leaving him lying on the floor of his flat, bleeding heavily. She also tried to slash her own wrists.
Rotha recovered from his extensive injuries, and supported his lover during her trial in 1962. In court, Constance’s defence team made much of her poverty-stricken childhood, her failed movie career and her traumatic experience in post-war Germany. She was given a three month sentence, and upon her release from Holloway Prison she was met at the gates by Rotha.
They were reunited, but the period was not a happy one. They sold their story to a tabloid newspaper, which salaciously reported their living together out of wedlock. Constance’s mental health deteriorated and she spent time in psychiatric care. In 1968, she stabbed Rotha again, this time sinking a steak knife into his back. The court placed a restraining order against Constance but again, Rotha stood by her. They eventually married in 1974, some fifteen years since they had first met. It was to be her third and final marriage.
Time in prison hadn’t quietened her demons however, and Constance was back in Holloway Prison in 1975, for yet another stabbing offence. While she made a half-hearted attempt to leave Rotha, she quickly returned to him, and together, they descended into a spiral of alcohol abuse, poverty and physical violence. The once highly-respected author and filmmaker took to charging visitors £50 for interviews, along with a bottle of Scotch for himself and Vodka for his wife.
By 1978 they were effectively homeless, and Constance had taken a job as a hospital cleaner. Around this time, after almost twenty years together, the couple broke up. Rotha wrote at the time, “my wild Irish wife has finally left me, gone God knows where.”
Constance Smith’s final act was slow to play out, despite the fiercely harsh circumstances of the latter years of her life. She lived for a while in destitution, losing toes to frostbite and drinking on the streets of Soho. She spent the next two decades on a miserable carousel of psychiatric hospitals, hostels and homelessness, before eventually dying of natural causes in Islington in 2003.
She lived through a fascinating era of modern history; born in the infancy of the Irish Free State, she found herself living in a Blitz-ravaged London a year after VE Day. She went on to work with black-listed artists during the infamous Red Scare in Hollywood and married the son of a Fascist Senator in Italy. She worked with one of Britain’s best-known documentary makers and interviewed survivors of the Holocaust. The life of Constance Smith is more interesting, more dramatic and more poignant than any Hollywood blockbuster. Perhaps it was just too much, too soon for the girl from Wolfe Tone Street.
In her book, Ruth Barton writes perhaps the most sympathetic and understanding epitaph for the Irish actor who flew too close to the sun. Constance, she writes, was, like many almost-stars of the period, “overwhelmed by an unforgiving system for which their background left them unprepared.”
Today, Constance Smith is fondly remembered by those neighbours for whom she signed autographs in 1960, and her memory is maintained by Ms Barton and her fellow academics, by interest groups such as the Limerick Film Archive and by artists like Kate Hennessey.
If you happen to pass Ms Hennessey’s mural on Clontarf Place, stop for a moment and cast your eyes upwards. Among the many Limerick women celebrated there, you’ll find the dark-haired, smiling face of Constance Smith, just a stone’s throw from her family home.
Dictionary of Irish biography:
Constance Mary (1928–2003), actor, was born in January or February 1928 in Limerick. Her father, a Dublin native who had served in the British army during the first world war, was working on construction of the Ardnacrusha power station; her mother Mary was from Limerick. On completion of the station in 1929 the family moved to Dublin; her father died soon thereafter. One of seven or eight children, Constance was reared in extreme poverty in a one‐room flat in Mount Pleasant Buildings, Ranelagh, and was educated at St Louis convent primary school, Rathmines. She worked in a local chip shop, an O’Connell Street ice‐cream parlour, and as a domestic servant. A blue‐eyed brunette, strikingly beautiful from a young age, in January 1946 she won a special prize in the Dublin film star doubles contest (as Hedy Lamarr), on foot of which she was screen-tested by the Rank Organisation, and signed to a seven‐year contract. Moving to London, she was groomed in etiquette, poise, and acting technique in the Rank acting school (the so‐called ‘charm school’). She first appeared on screen in an uncredited, but eye‐catching role, as a cabaret singer in the underworld classic Brighton rock (1947); she was engaged for a time to the film’s director, John Boulting. Though never cast in a Rank film, she appeared in several independent productions, including Room to let (1950), as the daughter of a landlady whose mysterious new tenant turns out to be Jack the Ripper. About 1950 she was sacked by Rank, supposedly for objecting to criticism of her Irish accent; she also resisted the studio’s efforts to change her name.
Her vivacious performance as an Irish maid in The mudlark (1950) attracted the attention of Darryl Zanuck, head of production at Twentieth Century Fox, who signed her to a seven‐year contract, and vigorously promoted her as his Emerald Isle discovery. En route to Hollywood, she worked on location in Canada in Otto Preminger’s impressive film noir The 13th letter (1951), as the wife of a hospital doctor (played by Charles Boyer) in a small Québec village, who is suspected, on the basis of poison‐pen letters, of an adulterous involvement with a newly arrived English doctor (played by Michael Rennie). Cast in a coveted role opposite Tyrone Power in The house in the square (1951), she returned to London for filming, but was soon embroiled in studio politics, and uncomfortable in a part too demanding for her experience and skills. After six weeks on set she was abruptly dropped, her role was recast, and her scenes re‐shot.
Despite this setback, for the next few years she was cast by Fox in starring roles opposite some of the studio’s leading male actors. Nonetheless, her own star status seems to have been generated more by intensive studio publicity than by the quality or success of her movies. She appeared on the cover of Picturegoer, the leading British film magazine of the period (March 1951), and was a presenter at the 1952 Academy awards ceremony. Her image was that of a spirited, innately rebellious individualist, unafraid to defy studio manipulation – qualities attributed by the entertainment press to her Irish ethnicity. One industry colleague remembered her as ‘the intelligent man’s Elizabeth Taylor’ (Barton, 117). Her credits included Red skies of Montana(1952), as the wife of the chief of a crew of forest‐fire‐fighters, played by Richard Widmark; Lure of the wilderness (1952), with Jeffrey Hunter; Treasure of the golden condor (1953), opposite Cornel Wilde; and Taxi (1953), as a newly landed Irishwoman assisted by a New York cabdriver in searching for the American husband who abandoned her. She gave a lively and rounded performance in Man in the attic (1953), another take on the Ripper legend, as the showgirl niece of the murderer’s landlord and his wife, a role that highlighted her singing and dancing talents. Her co‐star, Jack Palance, suggested that she be billed ‘the Dublin Dietrich’, and some reviewers detected her potential as a live nightclub performer.
By 1954 she had left Fox; it is possible that the mental instability and problems with alcohol that would later become obvious were already afflicting her career. She appeared with Richard Conte in an intriguing noir, The big tip off (1955), and made two films in London: Tiger by the tail (1955), as the reliable English secretary of an American journalist pursued by gangsters, and Impulse(1955), as a seductive femme fatale. Her star waning, in the latter 1950s she made five films in Italy, where she was promoted as a brunette Grace Kelly. Giovanni dalle bande nere (The violent patriot) (1956), a costume swashbuckler, played the USA drive‐in circuit. Her last film was La congiura dei Borgia (1959).
Smith married firstly, after a whirlwind romance in London (1951), Bryan Forbes , an aspiring British actor, and later a successful screenwriter, director, novelist, and memoirist. Though he followed her to Hollywood, the marriage had broken by the end of the year, but not before Smith had succumbed to studio pressure and terminated a pregnancy by abortion. The couple divorced in 1955. She married secondly, in Italy (1956), Araldo Crollolanza , the photographer son of a former fascist senator (who opposed the match and disinherited him); the marriage failed by 1959. In the latter year Smith began a relationship with Paul Rotha (1907–84), a leading British documentary filmmaker, film historian, and critic, whose portfolio included two films of Irish interest: No resting place (1951), a fiction film about Irish travellers, and Cradle of genius (1958), a short documentary on the history of the Abbey theatre, which received an Oscar nomination. Smith accompanied Rotha to Germany and Holland during research and filming of a documentary on the life of Adolf Hitler (1961) and a fiction film based on the Dutch wartime resistance (1962). The couple shared leftist, anti‐imperialist political convictions, and a passion for jazz music; Smith painted, and cultivated her interest in the fine arts, while Rotha contemplated writing a book about her life and casting her in films. Ominously, they also shared an addiction to heavy drinking; ferocious rows, often physically violent, became a commonplace. In December 1961 Smith knifed Rotha in the groin and slashed her own wrists in their London flat; pleading guilty to unlawful and malicious wounding, she served three‐months’ imprisonment in Holloway. Defence counsel at her trial referred to two previous suicide attempts, and described her as ‘a poor but beautiful girl who was squeezed into a situation of sophistication and fame when emotionally quite unable to cope with it’ (Times, 12 Jan. 1962).
For the next two decades Smith and Rotha continued their turbulent, on‐again, off‐again relationship, marked by mutual alcoholism, unemployment, increasing financial hardship, episodes of domestic violence, and Smith’s repeated suicide attempts, and admissions to psychiatric hospitals and halfway hostels. During intermittent periods of recovery, she worked as a cleaner and (incredibly) in childcare. After stabbing Rotha in the back in 1968 she received three‐years’ probation; another stabbing in 1975 resulted in a second term of imprisonment. The couple, who married in 1974, did not break up permanently till 1979. In the early 1980s Smith was living destitute and homeless in London; former colleagues would see her, virtually unrecognisable, drinking in Soho Square. The few friends who attempted to retain contact lost track of her in the mid 1980s. She is reported to have died of natural causes 30 June 2003 in Islington, London
Jeffrey Hunter was born in New Orleans, Louisiana in 1926. In 1950 after graduating from college, he was awarded a 20th Century Fox contract. His first film was “Fourteen Hours” and his first major role was in “Red Skies of Montana” in 1952 with Richard Widmark and Constance Smith. One of his most famous roles was in the iconic Western “The Searchers” with John Wayne. His other notable films in the 1950’s include “A Kiss Before Dying”, “In Love and War”, and “The True Story of Jesse James”. In 1961 he played the part of Jesus Christ in “King of Kings”. During the 1960’s he worked mainly on television. He died as a result of a fall in 1969.
Jeffrey Hunter article by Mike McCrann:
Hollywood has a long history of gorgeous male movie stars—Rock Hudson, Warren Beatty, Tyrone Power, Paul Newman—the list is endless, and everyone has his favorite. My personal pick for the most handsome is Jeffrey Hunter. Jeffrey Hunter was one of the most beautiful young actors of the 1950s who seemed headed for top stardom. He is best known today for the colossal John Ford western The Searchers and for having played Jesus Christ in King of Kings five years later. Jeffrey Hunter never became a mega star, and his shocking death in 1969 at the age of 42 made him a lingering cinematic shadow in the following decades.
Jeffrey Hunter became a star at 20th Century Fox, and most of his early films were pretty forgettable. Fellow rising star Robert Wagner supplanted Hunter and started getting the studio buildup. As Mr. Wagner had neither the looks nor the talent of Jeffrey Hunter, we will leave the reasons for this switch in the studio’s affections to the imaginations of our readers. (There is the great swimming pool photo with Robert Wagner looking like he was going to give the heterosexual Hunter a real surprise!)
Jeffrey Hunter’s great roles were all for movie legend John Ford. Ford cast Hunter (over Robert Wagner, I might add) in the role of Martin Pawley in the epic The Searchers starring John Wayne. This famous film was a big hit when released in 1956 and is now considered by many critics as one of the greatest films ever made. Jeff was fabulous in the film—especially in his many shirtless scenes and in his classic moment with Natalie Wood (the future Mrs. Robert Wagner) where he protects her from being killed by John Wayne, who can’t accept the fact his kidnapped niece has been raised by and sexually active with the Indians who took her as a child. Jeffrey Hunter was never better on film.John Ford used Hunter in two other wonderful films, including The Last Hurrah (1958) with Spencer Tracy as the corrupt but lovable Irish mayor of Boston. In this black and white classic, Jeffrey Hunter looked totally hot in his tweeds and button-down Ivy League clothes, and he gave a fine performance. Ford used Hunter one more time in the underrated Sergeant Rutledge, filmed in glorious color.
The zenith or nadir of Jeffrey Hunter’s career was being chosen by director Nicolas Ray (Rebel Without A Cause) to star as Jesus in King of Kings. Although the film and Hunter received OK notices and made some money, it was dubbed by Hollywood pundits as “I Was A Teenage Jesus” and probably did more harm to Hunter’s career than any other film he ever made. (I remember seeing this film when I was a junior in high school and feeling a bit alarmed as I realized I had a sexual attraction to Jesus! This did not seem quite right to a teenager just coming to terms with his sexuality. But, sorry, Jeff Hunter with his shoulder-length hair and piercing blue eyes was one hot savior. I was only annoyed because they had shaved his armpits!)
Jeffrey Hunter’s career wound down as the ’60s wore on. Audiences wanted edgier actors like Steve McQueen and Paul Newman. His last claim to fame was playing the Captain in the original captain for Star Trek—a role that eventually went to William Shatner. Had Hunter done this series and not died from a freak fall in his home, we might still be seeing him on TV or film, enjoying the last stage of a long career.
All we have of Jeffrey Hunter are the memories of him in his 1950s films—especially Martin Pawley in The Searchers and the impossibly sexy Jesus Christ in King of Kings. I fondly salute Jeffrey Hunter, for me the most beautiful man in the movies.
