Drama Darker Than Imagined in 1960
The Misfits a Last or Near Last for Many --- Part One
There’s a story persistent about the night Montgomery Clift died. His assistant rapped upon a closed bedroom door to ask Monty if he’d like to watch The Misfits on television. Account goes that Clift replied, “Absolutely no!” these his last words. I took the tale for truth until just now when I checked dates and found that Clift died on July 23, 1966. The Misfits at that time had only played network dates, 1-3-65 and 5-23-65, as of 7-23-66. These were ABC broadcasts, per their ongoing deal with United Artists for theatrical features to be shown in primetime. There was one more run, 3-22-69, before The Misfits went into UA’s “Showcase 6” syndicated package in 12-70. So how much does this matter, if at all? Enough anecdotes get shine rubbed off by niggling detail to make me feel most should be let alone. Monty-balk at The Misfits for his exit line seems good as any, but if his man mentioned a movie for Clift perhaps to watch, it was probably something more along lines of From Here to Eternity, by 1966 playing heavy on local TV. Deeper research could discover which of his appeared on NY tubes as of 7-23-66, so who volunteers? I think The Misfits fits barbed account simply because this was a misfit movie, one that few looked back on with affection. Certainly not viewers and hardly by cast, most of whom died within shockingly short time either before or not too long after The Misfits was released. Only Eli Wallach of leads stayed to blow out birthday candles, him staying a spectacular ninety-eight years (d. 2014). Suppose Eli ever lay awake and wondered “Why me?, or more to point, “Why not me?” It’s like being sole survivor on some ship that went down.
There is much mournful about The Misfits, a sort of cursed endeavor. We have also The Conqueror of similar stripe, shot in Utah and ongoing necrology from there. There was sadness not just in making The Misfits, but in how the film would play. Heavy as sandbags as written by Arthur Miller, there was no ounce of fun to be had here, and receipts expected to be big would not end so. How many mimicked Monty where invited to re-watch The Misfits, as in “Absolutely no!”? That I suspect is why The Misfits became object of the false memory. Few fall more squarely into category called “Maybe this time I’ll like it,” but how many pull trigger of taking the task? Reason for revisit to The Misfits is conversation I had with Ralph Roberts on August 13, 1988, just him, me, and Mike Cline in a small conference room, reason for access Ralph’s NC family connection. Ralph was an actor who doubled as masseur for known names including Marilyn Monroe, with whom he became a close chum. Many say he was the last person who spoke with her the night she died (should we say the last friendly person?). Ralph Roberts had Gotham insider status like few else. I’ve seen him on TV and movies that aren’t credited at his page on IMDB. We talked a long while but only about The Misfits, for which I kick myself regular. One topic he hesitated to address was circumstance of Marilyn Monroe’s death. That water ran truly deep, as you could tell by Ralph’s dark expression where her fate came up.
Little went on during The Misfits to escape Ralph Roberts’ scrutiny. Insurers were shy to clear the male lead for service. “Clark Gable wanted very much to do The Misfits, but he was unable to pass the physical which was required by the insurance carrier. Being so anxious to get the part, Gable stayed in bed for four days in the hopes he’d be ready for his fourth physical exam (he’d failed the first three). He went straight from his bed to the doctor’s office and this time they passed him.” We could wonder if Gable’s doctor warned him about over-stressing on The Misfits, which advise if given went studiously ignored. Had he done another comedy shot on sound stages, I dare say the King might have lived to work into at least part of the sixties (but who would sentence him deeper to that benighted decade?). Word is Gable liked notion of The Misfits for opportunity to “really act,” plus the money was more, at least on a surface, than he had been offered before, him thinking in terms of ultimate percentage payoff, though recent ones proved more profitable than The Misfits would be. Here’s the thing though: Gable was usually in for gross participation after leaving MGM, which meant his came off the top, sometimes at cost to distributors (Fox lost money on The Tall Men … Gable did not). A big enough star, working independent in the fifties, saw reward contract talent of earlier time but dreamed of. Gable found out post-Metro what it was like to be truly enriched by the movie game, at risk sometimes to his health, as here where he crash-dieted after It Started in Naples to rid himself of pasta weight and get in shape for The Misfits.
Gable had been told what a pill Marilyn Monroe could be on working sets, and so came prepared to be patient. Ralph Roberts said he became her champion, the most indulgent of everyone working on The Misfits, she being of that generation having idolized “Clark Gable.” Old timers had to bear transition of co-workers into fans, many distracted by awe they felt just being in the presence of what was less a working colleague than revered idol they simply could not believe was now their co-star. Everyone it seemed wanted to talk over Gable’s greatness with this by all accounts modest man, and that could get awkward for him. Roberts: “Gable always drove himself to the Misfits location and didn’t mingle a lot with the rest of the company. He did though become closer to Marylyn over a period of time and ended up being her strongest supporter.” The much-repeated remark he made to a press rep, to effect that past stars were expected to show up on time “or they’d be fired,” is thought by some to have been critical of Monroe, but overall context suggests it was more a humorous aside on Gable’s part. It’s true the old studios would not tolerate misbehavior on the part of players, a refuse pile filled by those who thought they could get away with bratty conduct. It needed an extraordinary gift to be indulged past strict policy of punching clocks and being ready to perform. Was Judy Garland an only major name to be so “understood” as she was, MGM knowing this was the one and massive talent that could never be replaced? Surely Gable observed this close and marveled at indulgence extended to her, at least till curtain fell in 1950 (her firing from Metro). Gable's true feelings about Marilyn Monroe were revealed to columnist Joe Hyams, him trusted by Gable: "How do you like working with Marilyn?" Gable asked "on or off the record?" Hyams replied "off," to which Gable said, "She's the rudest, most impossible actress I've ever worked with." Hardly the impression Ralph Roberts had of course, but then Gable had known Joe Hyams a long time so was able to be more forthcoming with him. To note is fact Joe Hyams did not spill these beans until 2001 when he penned a look-back on his long association with Gable.
Monroe by many hind sights was cause of The Misfits going up and up in terms of time and costs. Ralph Roberts felt she got a bum rap, though he was clearly an acolyte for being on her personal payroll. Said he on Monroe as scapegoat: “It reached a point where Marylyn was blamed for everything that went wrong. One day the company drove 75 miles or so into the desert for some outdoor shooting, and then discovered that Marylyn’s wig had been left behind We didn’t have a phone of course, so work was held up while someone drove back for the wig. Marilyn was blamed for the oversight, but of course it wasn’t her fault at all. If something went wrong though, everyone just tended to pack it off on Marilyn.” Monroe had gathered many a “handler’ by the time of The Misfits, she by now a production firm in herself, with lots grazing upon her and each jockeying for closeness to the star. Monroe paid Paula Strasberg (above) $3,000 per week to coach her acting, the last thing such instinctive ability needed. One could wonder how much more effective MM might have been had she been spared Strasberg ministrations, but Paula served greater functions than mere actor instruct. Like Ralph Roberts, she'd act also as guard against intruders, defend against those who’d defame MM, Paula like Ralph a majordomo and life raft for the troubled star. I’d say both earned keep, Roberts recalling Marilyn as a most generous employer. This actress, if by now institution, was toting up quite an overhead.
There is a Making of The Misfits book, also an hour-long DVD on the subject. Reading/watching is not unlike exploring the Galveston Flood or what happened at Balaclava Heights. Such waste, such self-destruct among talent on march to respective ends. Why should any black-and-white feature other than a grandest spectacle cost four million to make? The Misfits as on-and-on project was grand for tourism. Folks flocked to Reno hoping to interact with stars, and many did. Heat choked to over one hundred degrees on better days. Reno encouraged bad habit John Huston had of gambling beyond reason, $50,000 he left on green felt tables, this an unhealthy one-sixth of the $300K Huston received for directing The Misfits. Never mind smoke/drink as worst scourges of old Hollywood, for I believe betting had those beat, certainly among many who felt too lucky, or underserving, of money fairly thrown at them for engaging what seemed to some a frivolous enterprise. John Huston was not regarded as an artist in a same sense as writer Arthur Miller, pecking order among creatives a steeper stairstep in 1960 when movies were still something best took with popcorn and Raisinets. Will films get respect now that we are largely consuming them alone? Miller was married to Marilyn Monroe, but by Misfit time, they were misfitted as a couple. Was having her for a wife enough to overcome any man’s better judgment? I read how Monaco fixers, intent on finding a Hollywood name for Rainier’s princess, briefly considered Monroe until wiser heads warned that no, she was too unstable. Let’s choose regal if placid Grace Kelly instead.







8 Comments:
Never knew that Monaco insiders were essentially pre-auditioning wives for the crowned head. Kind of like Scarlett Johansson realized her meeting for a Tom Cruise movie was actually an audition to be his girlfriend.
Elaborating: The vetting and selection of companions and potential mates was traditionally the claimed province of relatives, whether they actually influenced the process or not. The more money and power involved, the more interested parties intervene and the more forcefully they assert their interests..
Monaco is a tourist economy, so the princess had to be not only suitable and stable but marketable. Scientologists (and likely other institutions) reportedly work to steer Tom Cruise and other famous adherents from inconvenient influences. In old Hollywood, when performers' reputations had monetary value, moguls pushed for respectable, controllable matches. Meanwhile, entourages and hirelings seek to assure continued comfort. Arthur Miller was grazed upon as surely as Monroe, if not as heavily. Did his dependents fret over a sex symbol's impact on Miller's standing with upper-class playgoers?
Dan Mercer has some thoughts about "The Misfits" and Clark Gable:
Some have attributed Gable's death following "The Misfits" shoot to John Huston. Supposedly, he was a mean and sadistic person who enjoyed placing people into difficult situations. So, he worked and worked Gable, bringing on the heart attack that killed him. Apart from Huston's character, however, the truth is probably somewhere in between, as so often it is. Gable, Montgomery Clift, and Eli Wallach all had stunt doubles for the mustang scenes. One of them, Tom Shaw, said that Gable never got near the horses. "Most of the time it was me on the end of the f---king rope, and four other guys."
"Most of the time" may have been the problem. Some scenes were filmed with the stunt men, but others couldn't be faked. Huston's inclinations aside, Gable had to be seen on the rope. In one scene he was dragged for a couple of hundred yards behind a car standing in for a horse. Then it was filmed again. In another, he, Clift, and Wallach were filmed trying to throw a mustang. Gable and Wallach were pulled and dragged along the lake floor where it took place, while Clift had his hands badly lacerated. The exertion was real and if the blood photographed was usually daubed on, the dirt and sweat were not.
In Lawrence Groebel's "The Huston's," there is a conversation between John Huston and Robert Mitchum, whom Huston had wanted to play the Gable part. Mitchum had turned it down because he didn't understand the script. When Huston expressed his disappointment and began to say that the script could have been changed, Mitchum reminded him that he had seen a letter Houston had sent to Arthur Miller, saying that he wouldn't change a thing. Huston apologized for that stupidity--whether for the letter or letting Mitchum see it, he didn't specify--but said that, anyways, they had already gotten Gable for the role. Mitchum replied that he had had lunch with Gable not long before and that he drank two quarts of whiskey a day, had the trembles, and had had two or three heart warnings. Fighting those horses, he said, would be the end of him.
Your information regarding the extraordinary measures Gable had to take to pass the insurance physical indicates that he was aware of his physical condition. Why would he take the risk, then, of what promised to be a tough location shoot? My guess is that he just wanted to keep doing something he enjoyed doing. People develop an idea of who they are and what it means to be that person. "The Misfits" was a more prestigious production than any he had been in recently and he was flattered by the offer. Even at the age of 59, with the shakes and trembles, he needed to demonstrate that he was worthy of it. I doubt whether he ever took the "The King" business seriously, but he took the idea of "Clark Gable" very seriously, indeed. He didn't court death, no more than he ever had, but to remain that man, he would accept whatever chances came his way.
And so, he went out in the same style with which he had lived his life, a man in full.
Dan Mercer has more "vignettes" on film (Part One):
“Battling Butler”
The woman he loved said that she didn't want him to be fighter, but as he was being pushed around and humiliated, he saw the despair and pity in her eyes. Accept it or not, but in this telling, a woman wants a man to be heroic, for only a hero can be worthy of her. Only a hero can be her champion. It was this realization that ignited his fury. The ensuing fight is perhaps one of the most vicious ever filmed and certainly one of the most thrilling. There were no half measures because it was not sport but a fight to the finish, as fights in this world tend to be, when there is much at stake.
Orson Welles casting Eartha Kitt as Helen of Troy in “Time Runs”
Hardly the Helen of Homer, but to feminine beauty, one bends the knee...
Wampas Stars of 1926
So many talents and so many of them favorites of mine. If I were choose one, however, who has been unjustly neglected, it would Marceline Day. She was uncommonly pretty, with her wide eyes, long, well-shaped nose, mouth with deliciously long upper lip, and pointed chin, and her figure was slender and graceful. There was also a pleasing freshness to her playing in such films as "The Beloved Rogue" and "The Cameraman." Somehow, her career faltered with the coming sound, though even "Telegraph Trial," a cheap western she made towards the end. revealed a mellow voice and pleasing way with a line. The good films she appeared in suggest that her selection for this list was by no means unwarranted.
“La chute de la maison Usher (Fall of the House of Usher) – 1928
Much as I've enjoyed the Roger Corman version, this single still suggests a film more intriguing and with greater realization of the nexus described by Poe between the world of the senses and that of the spirit.
Buster Keaton in “Free and Easy”
His silent films for M-G-M became increasingly compromised as the studio's system of production was imposed upon them, but they were still good. The coming of sound, however, reduced him to an employee, where the creative act was found in odd moments, seemingly when no one was looking. In this film, his vaudeville background was helpful in the song and dance sequences, but he was playing a character entirely unlike the one he had established onscreen. Likewise, the ending was on a note of pathos he had never condescended to before, while he remained his own man.
“The Navigator”
A marvelous sequence affording us a celestial view of the fate or circumstances orienting our lives in ways we cannot appreciate, being so close to them. That is the essence of its comedy, of course, this special angelic perspective.
“Daisy Kenyon”
When the ex-husband accepted the loss of his children from his second marriage as the price for a divorce, so that he could have Daisy Kenyon again, he disqualified himself in her eyes. For a woman--at least, a woman of that period--there is no consideration more important than one's children. Someone who would give up his children, whom he should love, is someone whose professions of love are not to be trusted.
“The Black Cat”
"The Black Cat" is a masterpiece. I saw it for the first time one summer many years ago with a friend who had just gotten a clandestine print of it and was enthralled. I was just becoming familiar with films beyond those of the kiddie matinees of my childhood and for a while afterwards I believed that it must be one of the greatest ever made. Even now, I rate it very highly for just the reasons you do--the charismatic performances of Lugosi and Karloff, the daring story line and highly literate screenplay, and the art deco set design--but also the superb use of music derived from classics which complement it so well. This was director Edgar Ulmer's finest film, which makes the petty tragedies which befell his career even more poignant.
Part Two from Dan Mercer:
Ann Harding
With her blonde hair and patrician profile, Ann Harding seemed perfect for the society dramas she played early in her film career. That she was an actress of unusual depth and sensitivity, however, was found in her performance in "Peter Ibbetson," opposite Gary Cooper, as a woman who would meet her lover on a spiritual plane elsewhere.
“The Mystic” (1925)
"Occult(ish)" is the appropriate word. Tod Browning's weird silent films usually delt with criminals and schemers who sought to prey upon the trust or fears of people, though his collaborations with Lon Chaney invariably brought into play dark psychological factors. This no doubt reflected his carnival background, with its emphasis upon illusion and manipulation. With the coming of sound, and especially in "Dracula," he began dealing with the supernatural as such rather than its simulation.
Louise Brooks in “Diary of a Lost Girl”
People are often opaque. We rarely know what others feel or think, and they see us as we see them. What is startling about Louise Brooks in these Pabst films is how transparent she is. I won't presume that it is Brooks herself that we're seeing—though so natural is her playing that it seems as though it is her personality itself manifest—but she was gifted in that she could conceive of her character, feel and think as her character would, and let this be revealed to our eyes and to our hearts and minds.
Sharon Tate
It seems astonishing that someone whose beauty was so otherworldly should have been consumed by the evil that seems sometimes too much a part of this world. One can be assured, however, that such tragedy found its resolution not here but elsewhere, not in time, but when time is no more. She and her child had but one source, and from whence they came, to that did they return, where life is always and forever.
Fay Wray
You might know her by the company she kept, so often writers and artists, producers and directors, scientists and physicians, who found that her intelligence complemented their own. More than that, however, was the sweetness of her personality which illuminated places of the heart mere intelligence cannot reach. In this way she led a life filled with years and other things as well, especially that of love.
Part Three from Dan Mercer:
“Freaks”
There is a story, apparently true, that F. Scott Fitzgerald was in the M-G-M commissary when the conjoined twins, Daisy and Violet Hilton, came in and sat across from him. As he watched them reading from a single menu, the badly hungover Fitzgerald found himself getting sick and ran from the commissary to vomit. Unfortunately, Fitzgerald wasn't alone in his reaction. Studio executives and other actors were so repulsed by the sideshow performers hired for "Freaks" that they petitioned to have them banned from the commissary. Most of the performers were subsequently relegated to eating at picnic tables outside.
Louis Brooks in “Now We’re in the Air”
A lovely moment when Brooks displays her dancer’s grace with a twirl and sashaying step. Never is there any self-consciousness in her acting. Always she is seemingly herself and entirely engaged with the moment. The effect is one of ineffable charm.
“The Vampire” (1913)
In "The Vampire," a young man leaves the farm and the young woman he loves for the city to make his fortune. There he meets a dark seductress who delights in corrupting such innocence as his. A title card reads, "The next morning." Drawn into a life of dissipation, he can't keep his job. Without money, he cannot keep her. His sweetheart comes to the city, looking for him, but only finds his sordid trail. Eventually, he wanders into a theater, thinking about finding someone he can rob. There he sees "The Vampire Dance" and realizes what has happened to him. He repents, returns to the old ways, and is taken back by his employer. When he and his sweetheart chance upon one another in the city, they joyfully reunite and become married. A Kalem production directed by the prolific Robert G. Vignola, "The Vampire" is effectively done and rather affecting, if you accept its moral perspective. The acting is good by Harry Milarde as the young man, Marguerite Courtout as the young woman, and Alice Hollister as the seductress, while Vignola presents the story in a well-ordered series of medium shots. As for "The Vampire Dance" by Alice Eis and Bert French, it’s a fascinating example of the kind of “free dance” conceived by Isadora Duncan, with its flow and spontaneity and emotional display. This proves to be a most sensual and provocative “vampire.”
John, I checked The New York Times listings and found not a single one of Monty's movies scheduled for that entire week. Most of his 15 movies were available in syndication by that point. According to the Daily News, he turned in at 11 pm on that Saturday, bypassing airings of SHADOW ON THE WALL, JAILHOUSE ROCK, INDISCREET, THE GHOST OF FRANKENSTEIN, MEET JOHN DOE, EBB TIDE, ESCAPE IN THE FOD and GRAND HOTEL into the early morning hours of July 24.
What terrific info, Lou. Thanks ever so much for supplying it. Confirms the fact of that story being ... just a story.
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