SWEETHEARTS (BOOK)

SWEETHEARTS: The Timeless Love Affair -- On-Screen and Off -- Between Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy. Sharon Rich. Donald Fine; 1994. NOTE: This is a review of the original 1994 edition. There is an updated 2014 edition of which I have read the new introduction and the afterword, and some of the source notes.

"[Eddy] ripped off [MacDonald's] blouse and described to her in graphic detail what he was going to do to her to make sure she never forgot she was his. Then he threw her down on the bed and raped her (my underlining)." from the book, page 116.

Where do I begin? Sweethearts purports to tell the "timeless love affair" between Nelson Eddy and Jeannette MacDonald, which seems rather odd when one participant -- according to this book -- actually raped the other. Although decades later the author addressed this bombshell on a blog post, it certainly should have been addressed more thoroughly in the book itself. What's amazing is that Ms. MacDonald seems to have no real reaction to being raped! Whether it was an actual rape or not is worth debating, but "rape" is the word the author uses.

It reminds one of old style soap opera plots where women would get raped and later on fall in love with their rapists, plots that were eventually and thankfully discarded by modern soap writers, especially women.

This section (as are many sections) of the book is also confusing. Did Eddy not go to bed with MacDonald for a long time (apparently "raping" her out of frustration) because he put her on a pedestal and didn't wish to despoil her -- despite knowing that she was not a virginal girl scout --  or because she was, as is later implied, supposedly frigid?

In any case, Sweethearts suggests in occasionally tedious detail that MacDonald [Love Me Tonight] and Eddy [Phantom of the Opera], although married to other people, were actually in love with each other, but one thing or another kept them apart. First, MacDonald quite sensibly refused to give up her career. Then, after both were married to others, Eddy's wife, Ann, threatened to destroy the both of them if Eddy left her. MacDonald tried hard to get divorced from actor Gene Raymond [Million Dollar Weekend] -- who was, according to this book, more interested in men than in MacDonald -- but this never occurred, either. Finally, when both were virtually seniors, Ann agreed to a divorce, but when Eddy found out how much it would cost him he told his supposed beloved MacDonald that "he would never marry her." And so on.

Frankly, as I read Sweethearts, which does have its entertaining sections, it came off to me as a Hollywood story somehow genetically combined with a Harlequin romance, a good old-fashioned "bodice-ripper" with misunderstandings, reconciliations, stolen kisses, unfortunate spouses, passionate trysts, and all the rest, told with rather purple prose that is almost comical. I'm not necessarily saying that the book is fiction, but it reads like it is.

The chief problem for me is that I found far too much of the book to be seriously unsubstantiated. Most of the more incredible information supposedly comes from many letters written by Nelson Eddy's mother, Isabel, or are taken from her unpublished memoirs. Apparently Isabel quoted at length from her son's diary, putting long, long sections in her letters and her memoirs. Well, maybe ...

It's somewhat amusing that there's been a mild Internet war amongst MacDonald-Eddy fans, some of whom think the book is a load of crap and others who swear by it, even its most dubious passages.

I don't know anything about Gene Raymond's private life, but I do know that if the book is true, he wouldn't be the first gay or bisexual man to be married to a famous movie star. We all know that affairs are very commonplace in Hollywood (and elsewhere). And Eddy and MacDonald could indeed have had secret feelings for one another. But after reading all 450 pages of this eventually laborious tome, I have to say my mind is not made up.

The funny thing is that I have always thought of MacDonald and Eddy as being relatively sexless, so the notion that they carried on this torrid, long-standing, on and off, horribly tortured love affair seems mildly comical, although if even half of the book is true I 'd have to say their relationship caused them much more misery than joy. What's worse, both of them come off as drama queens who only made everything worse. According to the book, Eddy also wanted to date a 15-year-old girl and flirted with Scientology. Oy vey!

Oh, along the way there are notes about the films they made together or apart and there is some interesting information there. The book has a not very revealing introduction by a man who claims to be Eddy's illegitimate son (sometimes his first name is spelled "Jon," other times "John"). The author, Sharon Rich, was a Eddy/MacDonald fan club president.

Verdict:  Your call. Just as exhausting as it is seemingly exhaustive. **.  

EX-LADY

Bette Davis and Gene Raymond

EX-LADY (1933). Director: Robert Florey.

Commercial artist Helen Bauer (Bette Davis of Deception) doesn't like the idea of marriage even if her boyfriend is Don Peterson (Gene Raymond of Hit the Deck), the handsome head of a small advertising agency. Nevertheless, after some hesitation the two decide to get hitched, only Helen is convinced that this has spoiled things, only creating jealousy and hurt feelings. They decide to live separately and make dates, even with other people. Don dallies with Peggy (Kay Strozzi), who is married to a man who makes boilers, while Helen goes out with the oily Nick  Malvyn (Monroe Owsley of The Keyhole). But will this arrangement really work in the long run?

Bette Davis and Monroe Owsley

Ex-Lady is an odd pre-code movie that tries to be daring but amounts to very little, daring or otherwise. The only really good points are the performances of Davis and Raymond, who are attractive and charming and play very well together. Helen seems like a confused woman who doesn't know what she wants, and she isn't much addicted to logic. She seems to believe that only a wife can be jealous, but there are many girlfriends and fiancees who would beg to differ. When she and Don choose to have (rather chaste) "affairs," their partners are not nearly as attractive as they are. Frank McHugh plays a poetic urbane type instead of his usual schnook, and although he doesn't quite pull it off, he does suggest that he could have had success with a wider variety of roles.

uncredited opera singer 

At least there are a couple of snappy musical numbers, one playing on the radio at Nick's apartment and the other performed by a group with a dancer in a Havana nightclub. This scene ends with Helen and Don, on their honeymoon, collapsing out of frame into a chair as the dancer sways seductively at the top of the frame. And we mustn't forget the uncredited woman who sings a bit of opera at a party. Although I believe the audience is supposed to think she's awful, she actually doesn't have a bad voice. All in all, despite the welcome touches of early feminist attitudes, this is just another unmemorable early Bette Davis movie, the kind that almost sank her career before it really got started.

Verdict: Bette is always interesting; the picture less so. **. 

HIT THE DECK

HIT THE DECK (1955). Director: Roy Rowland.

Young sailor Danny (Russ Tamblyn of Follow the Boys) is the son of rear admiral Smith (Walter Pidgeon). When Danny thinks that his sister, Susan (Jane Powell), a show business aspirant, may be taken advantage of by theater star Wendell Craig (Gene Raymond), he and his Navy buddies Rico (Vic Damone of Athena) and Bill (Tony Martin) break into his apartment where he sits with Susan and assault him. Their stupid actions result in the sailors being chased all over Manhattan by the shore patrol (including Alan King in an early role). Meanwhile Danny falls for Carol (Debbie Reynolds), who appears in Craig's show, and Ginger (Ann Miller) despairs that long-time fiance Bill will ever marry her. Rico's mother (Kay Armen of Hey Let's Twist) finds that her fiance, Peroni (J, Carrol Naish), may find her too old when he sees she's got a grown son. The "plot" is just an excuse to hang some songs and dance numbers on, so we've got Powell doing the snappy "Sometimes I Love You," Armen and the cast doing "Sing, Hallelujah!" and other numbers. Miller is typically saucy, Martin and Powell can sing, but Naish, Armen, and especially Gene Raymond make the best impressions. The silly  picture aspires to funniness but never quite gets there.

Verdict: More widescreen Technicolor twaddle. **.

MILLION DOLLAR WEEKEND

Gene Raymond and Osa Massen aka Stephanie Paull

MILLION DOLLAR WEEKEND (1948). Director: Gene Raymond.

Stockbroker Nicholas Lawrence (Gene Raymond) steals a million dollars cash from the office safe and takes off for a "vacation." On the flight to Honolulu he meets troubled Cynthia Strong (Osa Massen using the name "Stephanie Paull" for the first and, apparently, only time), who is under suspicion of murdering her husband. These two people bond, developing feelings for each other, but they have to deal not only with their own possible guilt but with Alan Marker (Francis Lederer), who tries to blackmail Cynthia but then is content to run off with Nicholas' suitcase full of loot. Nicholas and Cynthia pursue Alan to San Francisco, where Lawrence is desperate to recover the money so he can return it before the theft can be discovered ... Million Dollar Weekend is a good and unpredictable suspense film bolstered by very good performances from Raymond [The Locket] and Lederer [Terror is a Man], and has a lively climax. Osa Massen [A Woman's Face] is okay as Cynthia. The picture doesn't have a lot of style but as the director, as well as star, Raymond keeps things moving. Massen's clothing was designed by Barbara Barondess MacLean, former actress turned fashion designer.

Verdict: Quick entertaining melodrama. ***.

THE WOMAN IN RED

Barbara Stanwyck and Gene Reynolds

THE WOMAN IN RED (1935). Director: Robert Florey.

Shelby Wyatt (Barbara Stanwyck) works for the wealthy "Nicko" Nicholas (Genevieve Tobin), riding her show horses, but her job comes to an end when she falls for Johnny (Gene Raymond of The Locket), who also works for Nicko, riding her polo ponies -- seems Nicko has a yen for Johnny herself. Soon the couple are out of work and struggling to survive as young marrieds. There are other complications, such as Shelby's snobbish in-laws and efforts by Nicko to get Johnny back. The cast helps keep the mediocre film reasonably entertaining, with Stanwyck as excellent as ever, and Tobin, Dorothy Tree [The Family Secret], Ann Shoemaker [House by the River], and especially John Eldredge (as another man in love with Shelby) offering up fine support. One big disappointment is that Shelby never gives Nicko the big whack she deserves.

Verdict: Another Stanwyck film in which she's much better than the material. **1/2.

THE LOCKET

Robert Mitchum and Laraine Day

THE LOCKET (1946). Director: John Brahm.

"How could I ever have liked you, Norman? -- you're arrogant, suspicious, neurotic!"

John Willis (Gene Raymond) is just about to marry his fiancee, Nancy (Laraine Day of Foreign Correspondent), when a psychiatrist named Blair (Brian Aherne) bursts in, tells him he was once married to Nancy, and that Willis will be making a terrible mistake if he goes ahead with the wedding. What follows is a long flashback -- interrupted by two flashbacks within the flashback -- in which Blair relates his history with Nancy to Willis, including how an artist named Norman (Robert Mitchum) told him that Nancy had knowledge of a certain crime ... Since all the plot twists are part of the fun of The Locket I won't say any more, only that the movie is certainly psychologically dubious, but nevertheless fascinating, and quite entertaining. Day gives one of her best performances, resisting all chances to chew the scenery, and making it clear how so many men could fall for her despite her, uh, problems. Raymond and Aherne are fine, but a miscast Mitchum really just walks through the role of Norman and gives us absolutely no sign of his emotional torment (which makes one of his actions more surprising but also less believable). Henry Stephenson and Ricardo Cortez are swell in smaller roles, and Katherine Emery scores as Willis' mother, who knew Nancy as a child in a pivotal flashback sequence. Brahm also directed Hangover Square and many others.

Verdict: Unusual and absorbing melodrama with a fine lead performance. ***.

THE BARBARA STANWYCK SHOW VOLUME 1

THE BARBARA STANWYCK SHOW. Volume 1. 1960.

When she was 53, Barbara Stanwyck did one season of a half hour anthology show in which she starred in most of the compelling mini-dramas. The show was a class production, with a nice dramatic theme and a moderately expensive look. While there were a few mediocre episodes, in general the stories were good and some could have been expanded into feature-length. Among the more memorable were: "The Miraculous Journey of Tadpole Chan," in which Babs is a woman in Hong Kong who helps a little boy get to the United States;"The Secret of Mrs. Randall," in which Stanwyck is a widow in a war with her mother-in-law [a superb Doris Packer] over an ex-con who may have stolen a payroll; "Size 10," in which she plays the head of a fashion house who has to question her loyalties when one of her top designs is stolen; "Big Career," in which she is a businesswoman with a philandering husband and a disapproving mother-in-law [Elizabeth Patterson, "Mrs. Trumble" of I Love Lucy, in an excellent turn]; and "Confession," in which she's teamed romantically with -- of all people -- Lee Marvin as a lawyer who helps her get even with her jealous husband. Guest-stars on the show included everyone from Yvette Vickers to Ralph Bellamy to Anna May Wong to Gene Raymond. An excellent actress, Stanwyck is outstanding in virtually every episode aside from "Shock," in which she plays a mother who is traumatized by the death of her little daughter. She doesn't quite get a grip on the more dramatic moments, a very rare occurrence for this gifted woman.

Verdict: Good classic television. ***.

THE HOUSE ON 56TH STREET

THE HOUSE ON 56TH STREET (1933). Director: Robert Florey.

"There was an old maid in Nantucket ... " limerick told by young lady at restaurant party.

Peggy Stone (Kay Francis), a chorus girl torn between two suitors in 1905, marries Monte Van Tyle (Gene Raymond) and moves into the house he built especially for them on 56th street in Manhattan. After a grotesque series of events that pretty much destroy Peggy's happy life, she winds up back in the house under unusual circumstances. Once you get past the film's undeniable contrivances, this is an interesting, somewhat poignant drama/soap opera.

STOP READING IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE FILM.

The moral ambiguity of the film, which is quite irritating on first viewing, might be one of the film's most interesting elements. Peggy, who is completely innocent, is convicted of murdering an old flame who's shot in a suicide attempt as Peggy tries to wrestle the gun away from him (and she must have had the worst lawyer in New York, as the dead man's doctor knew he had only months to live). Later on there's a good scene when Peggy, now a croupier in the house on 56th street -- her honeymoon home turned into a speakeasy and gambling den -- plays cards with her own daughter Eleanor (Margaret Lindsay), who thinks her mother is dead. Incurring debts of $15,000, Eleanor begs Peggy's partner Bill (Ricardo Cortez) not to go to her husband for the money, and when he refuses, shoots him. At the end Peggy sends Eleanor off to sail to Europe with hubby, and tells her boss she killed Bill herself (in self-defense, more or less.) The boss agrees to cover up the crime.

The trouble with this, of course, is that Eleanor, who was not forced into gambling by anyone, committed a cold-blooded murder and her mother did not. Still, this can hardly be called a happy ending. One senses that Eleanor, who is not tightly wrapped (and well-played by Lindsay), will be haunted by her crime for the rest of her life (even if Peggy lied and told her Bill wasn't dead). And Peggy will spend the rest of her life as an employee in a house that was supposed to be a lifetime home for her and her family (husband Monte died overseas in WW1 when Peggy was in jail.)

Kay Francis' performance is not exactly Oscar-worthy, but she does a nice job essaying a woman in various, very different times of her life. Raymond and Cortez are professional, and, as noted, Lindsay is quite good as the daughter. Director Florey doesn't always make the most of the dramatic possibilities of some sequences, such as when Peggy gets the telegram regarding her husband's death while in jail.

Verdict: A house is not a home, all right. ***.