In the last of a series of four pieces I will be looking back on five more of Hollywood’s forgotten stars. This week it’s the actors numbered 5 - 1 in my countdown. Can you guess who will come out on top? I hope you enjoy it. As always your comments are more than welcome.
Are these men Hollywood's five most criminally forgotten actors?
N.B.: This list is not intended to be definitive. It is merely intended to highlight the talent of ten largely forgotten actors who played a significant role in Hollywood history, be it as a great box-office star, an Oscar winner, a pioneer or an unfulfilled talent that shone all too briefly. In deciding on my order, I have rated the actors on both their contribution to cinema and how little I perceive them to be remembered by the general public. The biggest star will not necessarily come out on top.
5 – Glenn Ford
In ‘Superman Returns’ (2006), after our hero returns from Krypton to visit his mother, there is a photograph of dear, departed Pa on the mantel piece. The photo is of Glenn Ford, a nod to his role as Jonathon Kent in ‘Superman’ (1978) but also a tribute to a great star and underrated actor who has been largely forgotten. Ford’s career spanned over fifty years, beginning in the late 1930s in a few largely undistinguished roles. The Second World War delayed his crack at stardom but when he was paired with Rita Hayworth in ‘Gilda’ (1946), their on-screen chemistry ensured that Ford became a very hot property. He starred with Hayworth in a further four movies but none of them recaptured ‘Gilda’s spark. Ford specialised in three types of role; weary anti-hero (‘The Secret of Convict Lake’ (1951), ‘The Big Heat’ (1953), ‘The Blackboard Jungle’ (1955)), heroic yet understated cowboy or soldier (‘The Fastest Gun Alive’ (1956), ‘3:10 to Yuma’ (1957), ‘Torpedo Run’ (1958)) and ordinary ‘Joe’ in awkward situation (‘Teahouse of the August Moon’ (1956), ‘Ransom’ (1956), ‘The Gazebo’ (1959)). Usually, though, the film makers would use Ford’s inherent likeability and an extreme situation to get the audience on-side. This is what made Ford a huge star throughout the 1950s and early 60s. Never conventionally good-looking, he was able to move into character parts smoothly but it may be that ‘ordinary guy’ charm that has allowed Ford to be overlooked whilst contemporaries like Humphrey Bogart and James Stewart remain hugely recognisable.
Watch Glenn Ford in: There are a lot to choose from but ‘The Blackboard Jungle’ just has the edge performance-wise over ‘The Big Heat’. It’s the now-clichéd story of a seemingly mild-mannered teacher taking a job in a rough inner-city school but this is the original and the best.
4 – Van Johnson
Having red hair has often been a problem for men in the pursuit of movie superstardom. Those who have made it were not normally seen as ginger on screen. Stan Laurel only appeared in colour once in a government information film; with a few exceptions, Spencer Tracy had gone white by the time he made the majority of his colour movies; Danny Kaye and Robert Redford both went blond; and, believe it or not, Harpo Marx’s hair was actually a wig! Van Johnson was the exception. He was unashamedly red and freckly in an era when that look was shunned for men on screen unless you were either 8 years old or you were the hero’s comedy side kick who dies in scene three. Johnson was a dancer on Broadway when MGM came calling. However it wasn’t his twinkle toes they wanted. It was the boy-next-door looks that MGM desired as they were casting plenty of war pictures and wanted all-American guys to play the parts of servicemen. After a couple of supporting parts Johnson got his big break with the second lead in ‘A Guy Named Joe’ (1943) alongside Tracy. More WWII dramas followed but Johnson’s biggest success of this era was ‘The Thrill of Romance’ (1945), a musical which marked the first of four pairings with Esther Williams. The movies success meant that Johnson topped the box-office chart for 1945. From supporting player to Hollywood’s most bankable star in less than three years, Johnson is an example of how the studio system worked. Stage stars, models or extras were spotted and then carefully groomed for stardom in a few well chosen support parts before being given the big launch in films with the studio’s big names. Johnson’s success continued through the 40s with the same mixture of war and musical pictures – 1949 being a particularly good year for both with ‘Battleground’ following ‘In the Good Old Summertime’. Never nominated for an Academy Award despite working in an era where stardom virtually guaranteed recognition, Johnson’s finest performance came in 1954 in the ensemble piece ‘The Caine Mutiny’. More challenging work followed such as his role as the blind man embroiled in a kidnap plot in ’23 Paces to Baker Street’ (1956). His career stalled in the 60s as his marriage break-up descended into a bitter divorce and never picked up again after just one big screen appearance between 1960 and 1967 but Johnson continued to work until the late 1980s. As an example of what the studio system could do and as a beacon for red headed actors everywhere Van Johnson deserves far more recognition then he is afforded.
Watch Van Johnson in: ‘The Caine Mutiny’ may be primarily remembered for Humphrey Bogart’s last great role but Johnson is a stand out in a powerful cast.
3 – Joseph Cotton
When your most prominent movie roles were opposite Orson Welles it shouldn’t be much of a surprise that very little of the limelight was afforded to you. Joseph Cotton would have been unlikely to complain as without roles in ‘Citizen Kane’ (1941) and ‘The Magnificent Ambersons’ (1942) he would never have been a Hollywood name. However, purely in terms of acting ability Cotton was easily the equal of Welles as proved by a string of excellent dramatic performances throughout the 1940s. Starting with his appearance as Jedidiah Leland, Kane’s right hand man, Cotton then made ‘The Magnificent Ambersons’ and the wartime thriller ‘Journey into Fear’ (1943) with Welles. All three are excellent movies in their own right with ‘Journey into Fear’ surely ranking as one of the great forgotten thrillers. He was stunning as Uncle Charlie in Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘Shadow of a Doubt’ (1943) and then supported Charles Boyer and Ingrid Bergman in the remake of ‘Gaslight’ (1944). This was followed by a sympathetic role in another underrated movie ‘Love Letters’ (1945) as a soldier desperate to find some answers after the murder of his friend. Before the decade was out, Cotton had added a classic western (‘Duel in the Sun’ (1946)) and a classic fantasy (‘Portrait of Jeannie’ (1948)) to his CV and he then returned to thrillers with the seminal ‘The Third Man’ (1949). Cotton was the lead but, again, he was overshadowed by Welles as Harry Lime who doesn’t even appear until the movie is half gone. As a decade of work, Cotton’s output was consistently excellent, yet his great performances have fallen foul to either being forgotten or to the presence of a co-star who went on to bigger things. Is that a reflection on Cotton and indicates that maybe he wasn’t that good? Watch the films and see for yourself.
Watch Joseph Cotton in: A straight choice here between ‘Shadow of a Doubt’ and ‘The Third Man’ with Cotton’s performance in the Hitchcock thriller winning out. He is just so damn menacing. You will never invite your relatives to stay again.
2 – Paul Muni
During the 1940s, the cracks in Hollywood’s studio system were starting to show more than ever. One man’s contract dispute was another man’s big break. In 1941 Paul Muni was one of Warner Brothers’ biggest names with four Academy Award nominations (and one win) under his belt. He had made his name with highly popular and critically acclaimed crime dramas before undertaking a series of historical biopics that usually required him to hide his distinctive features beneath make-up and false beards. Given his status and popularity, the studio assigned him to the gangster picture ‘High Sierra’ (1941). Muni wasn’t having it though and, after effectively being put on suspension, the role went to up-and-coming Humphrey Bogart. Muni made fewer and fewer films from that point on and, from being fairly prolific in the 1930s, ended his life with just twenty-five screen credits to his name. A successful stage career brought him to Hollywood’s attention. In the early days of sound, actors with stage experience were sought after as they were used to speaking lines and being understood. His first movie ‘The Valiant’ (1929) was a death-row drama that set the tone for much of Muni’s early output. It was bleak, realistic and, for it’s time, dealt brutally with its themes. His next two movies, after a return to the stage, were ‘Scarface’ and ‘I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang’ (both 1932). More than any James Cagney picture of the period, these were the best examples of Warners’ gangster/crime output. ‘…Chain Gang’ in particular is a terrific piece of movie-making with Muni’s performance at its core. After another couple of dramas in a similar vein, Muni was cast in the title role in ‘The Story of Louis Pasteur’ (1936). This was quite a departure from Muni’s previous films but when he was awarded the Oscar for his performance it ensured that similar roles came his way, most notably in ‘The Life of Emile Zola’ (1937). After leaving Warners, Muni’s roles became far less frequent but that meant that he only picked quality such as ‘Angel on My Shoulder’ (1946) and his last role in ‘The Last Angry Man’ (1959).
Watch Paul Muni in: To convince you that Paul Muni didn’t need heavy accents, false beards or hours of make-up to electrify the screen watch ‘I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang’. Mercifully, they chose to remake ‘Scarface’ and not try to take this on as you cannot improve on perfection.
1 – Fredric March
Due to the era that most of the twenty stars I have written about in these posts worked in, I have again and again referred to Hollywood’s ‘studio system’. Put simply, Hollywood movies in the early sound era through to the 1950s were predominantly made by a handful of powerful studios (MGM, Paramount, Warner Bros., Columbia, Universal etc.) that signed up actors, directors, writers and whoever else they needed on long, virtually unbreakable contracts with a regular weekly wage. The omnipotent heads of the studio would then assign the talent on the books to whatever picture they saw fit. In return, the stars got the most efficient publicity machines ever created behind them to enhance and, when misdemeanour required, protect their image. For most actors the system worked well, but for a number it was a stifling environment that meant typecasting. Rebellion was biting the hand that fed you and could mean professional suicide if you were anything less than a huge star. My number one male star, Fredric March, was even rarer. He was almost unique in that he was a hugely successful actor, with the critics as well as the public, despite never signing a long-term studio contract. The sheer force of his star quality and the consistent excellence of his performances was all the publicity March needed to have the studio executives clamoring for this relative rebel to star in their prestige productions.
March, like Paul Muni, came to Hollywood in 1929 when established stage actors were in great demand as silent movies took their bow and exited. He had some minor success with his first few films but came to prominence playing Tony Cavendish in ‘The Royal Family of Broadway’ (1930), a play based on the legendary Barrymore family (grandparents and great-grandparents of Drew). The performance garnered an Oscar nomination for March and he went one better the following year with the definitive screen portrayal of ‘Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde’ (1931). Urbane as Jekyll, terrifying as Hyde, March was superb in the dual role and this helped him, as well as his refusal to sign up to a single studio, to avoid being pigeon holed. March was excellent in the melodrama ‘Smilin’ Through’ (1932) and the war movie ‘The Eagle and the Hawk’ (1933) but also showed he could handle comedy with ‘Design for Living’ (1933). His next truly great performance was as Death in ‘Death Takes a Holiday’ (1934), a movie inadvisably remade over sixty years later as ‘Meet Joe Black’ (1998) (Brad Pitt taking on a role played my Fredric March is the cinematic equivalent of The Cheeky Girls covering Ella Fitzgerald). Before the 1930s were out, March had starred in a series of movies based on great novels such as ‘Les Miserables’ and ‘Anna Karenina’ (both 1935) as well as pulling out a truly heart-breaking performance as Norman Maine in the original ‘A Star is Born’ (1937). The war years brought still more variety in March’s choice of movies but ‘The Best Years of Our Lives’ (1946) brought March his best role of the decade and a second Academy Award. The film’s plot concerns three men trying to piece their lives back together after returning to America after WW2 and March is the cast’s stand-out performer. He concentrated more on stage work in the ensuing years but when he did appear on the big screen he had lost none of his power. ‘Death of a Salesman’ (1951), ‘Executive Suite’ (1954) and ‘The Desperate Hours’ (1955) all contain brilliant, layered performances but if there was one last film performance for the ages left in Fredric March he delivered it in 1960’s ‘Inherit the Wind’. Based on the real-life 'Scopes Monkey Trial' of 1925, March plays a famous and fiercely Christian prosecuting lawyer in the trial of a school teacher who slipped Darwin’s theory of natural selection and evolution into the syllabus. His scenes with defence attorney Spencer Tracy are a tribute to two titanic talents of Hollywood’s golden age. March continued working until his death in 1975 but like so many whose careers were predominantly in black and white movies he seems destined to remain a star on in the minds of a the minority. For March more than anyone that is a tragedy.
Watch Fredric March in: More than any of the nineteen other actors I have written about, this is an impossible choice so I am going to cheat and go for ‘Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde’ for early March, ‘The Best Years of Our Lives’ for the middle of his career and ‘Inherit the Wind’ for March the elder.
Easy Rider (1969): One of this week's reviews on twitter.com/lincolnsnose
Posts
