Posts Tagged ‘Miriam Hopkins’

Miriam Hopkins: Life and Films of a Hollywood Rebel

Monday, September 4th, 2017

AVAILABE JANUARY 2018

UNIVERSITY PRESS OF KENTUCKY

Use discount code FS30 to receive a 30% discount through September 30, 2017

CLICK HERE: University Press of Kentucky

 

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Today at Cinecon… Friday

Friday, September 1st, 2017

Woman Chases Man (1937, Samuel Goldwyn Co.) Friday, September 1, 2017 – Egyptian Theater, 9:10am

Millionaire Kenneth Nolan (Joel McCrea) is sensible and careful with his money, but seemingly everyone else is trying to con him out of it. That includes architect Virginia Travis (the marvelous Miriam Hopkins) and his own father B.J. Nolan (Charles Winninger) who has lost all of his own money investing it in crackpot schemes and inventions. John Blystone, veteran director of Laurel and Hardy and Buster Keaton features, directed this romantic screwball comedy.

 

 

 

The Brat (1931, Fox) Friday, September 1, 2017 – Egyptian Theater, 8:20pm

From a 1917 stage play written by Maude Fulton and probably inspired by George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion, this comedy was an early sound film for Director John Ford. In it a novelist (Alan Dinehart) is looking to find a subject for his next book when he comes upon an orphan (Sally O’Neil) who is appearing before a judge at a downtown night court, charged with stealing food. He pays her fine and brings her back to his family’s mansion so he can study her. She soon turns his dysfunctional family around by dispensing the wisdom she has learned living on the street.

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Miriam Hopkins: Life and Films of a Hollywood Rebel

Saturday, August 26th, 2017

 

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Reviews for Miriam Hopkins: Life and Films of a Hollywood Rebel

Tuesday, August 15th, 2017

 

 

 

UPDATE: Here are reviews for Miriam Hopkins: Life and Films of a Hollywood Rebel, to be published on January 5, 2018 by the University Press of Kentucky, is available NOW for pre-order at 30% off the cover price thru September 30, 2017 at UPK’s website! Please use discount code FS30 when ordering. Thank you.

 

“As Ellenberger’s approach mines detail after detail and anecdote after anecdote, from Hopkins’s echt southern beginnings to every zigzag of her life afterward, the woman who emerges is complex and compulsively compelling.”—Sheila Benson, former chief film critic for the Los Angeles Times and writer for the National Society of Film Critics

“The too often underrated and overlooked Miriam Hopkins is finally getting the spotlight she deserves. Allan Ellenberger has excavated the nuances and fascinating complexities of the woman Tennessee Williams thought he was complimenting when he said she was ‘the quintessence of the female, a really magnificent bitch.’ It turns out that Hopkins life off camera was as dramatic as any role she played.” — Cari Beauchamp, author of Without Lying Down: Frances Marion and the Powerful Women of Early Hollywood 

“Outstanding for its authoritative research, Allan R. Ellenberger’s Miriam Hopkins: Life and Films of a Hollywood Rebel is a lively, interesting book about a lively, interesting woman.” — Emily W. Leider, author of Myrna Loy: The Only Good Girl in Hollywood

“Tennessee Williams called her a ‘Magnificent Bitch.’ There’s probably no better label to summarize the forceful hurricane known as Miriam Hopkins, whose professional achievements both on Broadway and in Hollywood were as notable as her feuds with Bette Davis, Edward G. Robinson, Samuel Goldwyn, Warner Bros. head Jack Warner, and other luminaries of the studio era. Allan Ellenberger’s Hopkins bio is a must-read for those interested in getting to know this complex, contradictory, and immensely talented 20th century personage who dared to rebel against conventional ‘woman roles’ both on and off screen.” — André Soares, Alt Film Guide

“Allan Ellenberger’s thorough, empathetic biography captures the passionate, full-blooded life of celebrated actress Miriam Hopkins, revealing the idiosyncratic and complex life of one of Hollywood’s most intelligent women.” — Mary Mallory, author of Hollywood at Play: The Lives of the Stars Between Takes

 

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Miriam Hopkins: Life and Films of a Hollywood Rebel

Tuesday, August 8th, 2017

*This is a passage that never made it into my upcoming biography, Miriam Hopkins: Life and Films of a Hollywood Rebel, to be published on January 5, 2018 by the University Press of Kentucky. Copies can be preordered at AMAZON.

By Allan R. Ellenberger

One day, in her dressing room at Goldwyn Studios, Miriam Hopkins hosted a lunch for her husband Anatole Litvak, director Edmund Goulding and his Lordship, The Earl of Warwick, who she met in London the previous year. Warwick was in Hollywood to kick start an acting career using the stage name Michael Brooke.

As they dined, she received a call from her ex-husband, Austin “Billy” Parker, asking if he could borrow her car and chauffeur. Since his valet-chauffeur was in an accident, he needed a man to wake him in the morning, make his tea, shine his shoes, and so forth. Thinking fast, Miriam realized this was a chance to play a practical joke on her former husband. She explained that her car was in the shop, but she would ask Edmund Goulding if he could help.

Placing Billy on hold, she said to the Earl, “You want to get in pictures, don’t you? Well, if you can pass yourself off as a servant before [Billy], who knows actors and theaters backward, then you’ll know you’re good.” The Earl nodded in agreement. Miriam told Billy that Goulding would loan him his valet for the day.

“Is the man a good valet?” Billy asked.

“Excellent,” Miriam assured him.

Billy sounded pleased. “That’s marvelous,” he said. Warwick borrowed a chauffeur’s uniform from Goldwyn’s costume department and reported to Billy’s home the next morning, promptly at eight o’clock. Billy, still in bed, bellowed for his tea and toast. Warwick burned the toast. The morning tea was bitter and black, and the teacups and two vases were somehow broken. When Billy ordered him to make the bed, lumps like mountains remained in the coverlets.

His Lordship helped Billy on with his boots, but he was clumsy. The shoe polish spilled into the shoes, on the floor, and everywhere. When they left the house at noon, Billy was terribly pressed; jerkily shaven and the Earl’s erratic driving down Sunset Boulevard left him a nervous wreck. He was disgusted but didn’t want to be ungracious to the man that Goulding had so graciously loaned him.

The Earl dropped Billy off at the Vine Street Brown Derby where Miriam, Litvak and Goulding were waiting. After several minutes, a prearranged phone call was brought to their table. Finally, she hung up and said to her ex-husband, “I’m sorry Billy, but Edmund’s man says he can’t possibly stay the day with you. He says you are impossible, temperamental, sloppy, surly and hard to please.”

Astonished, Billy turned fifty-shades of red, but before he could express his disbelief, Miriam added: “Oh, and by the way. He doesn’t like the way you dress.” Just as Billy was about to spout off his full inventory of obscenities, “Goulding’s man” came in, casually took a place at the table, rubbed his hands together, and gave an off-hand nod at Billy. “May I present the Earl of Warwick?” said Miriam, who, along with the others at the table, had a good laugh at Billy’s expense

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Miriam Hopkins: Life and Films of a Hollywood Rebel

Friday, July 21st, 2017

*This is a passage that never made it into my upcoming biography, Miriam Hopkins: Life and Films of a Hollywood Rebel, to be published on January 5, 2018 by the University Press of Kentucky. Copies can be preordered at AMAZON.

 

By Allan R. Ellenberger

In the summer of 1957, Miriam Hopkins was touring in the stage version of The Old Maid, her 1939 hit with Bette Davis. This time around, she played the title role, and her old friend and former Paramount star, Sylvia Sidney, played her cousin, Delia. For their entire careers, these two ladies had an on-again, off-again relationship. “Sylvia was also bigger than life,” recalled a mutual friend, “so you had these two former screen stars with lots of ego. Sylvia would recount stories of things that Miriam did, or did not do.

“Onetime, Miriam tried to thank Sylvia for something, so she sent over a half a case of champagne to Sylvia’s dressing room, which infuriated her because it was strange to only send half a case— ‘Why didn’t she send the whole case?’ Sylvia complained. But this was Miriam’s idiosyncrasies, about her life and everything else.”

Also in the play was Miriam’s niece, 23-year-old Margot Welch, who made her acting debut as Tina, the “old maid’s” illegitimate daughter. “I don’t remember much about The Old Maid, it was so long ago,” Margot recalled. “I got my part through Ben Starbach, a stage manager and a friend of Miriam’s and of Ron Rawson, who ran the John Drew Theatre. Ben had no children and took me under his wing when I started out. Mr. Rawson must have been shocked when I showed up for my audition. I have auburn hair, but he liked my reading and decided to take a chance on me. Both Ben and mom came up to cue Miriam as her part was huge. She’d been persuaded to take the Bette Davis role from the film, while Sylvia Sidney played her old part of Delia. Miriam also helped with the directing, so we hardly saw her.”

Miriam was eager for Margot to succeed, inundating her with advice, almost to distraction. The director had to step in and forbid Miriam from talking to her niece during rehearsals. Even so, when Margot was reciting her dialogue on stage, Miriam would stand in the wings and mouth her lines, which intimidated the young actress.

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Miriam Hopkins: Life and Films of a Hollywood Rebel

Wednesday, July 5th, 2017

*This is a passage that never made it into my upcoming biography, Miriam Hopkins: Life and Films of a Hollywood Rebel, to be published on January 5, 2018 by the University Press of Kentucky. Copies can be preordered at AMAZON.

 

By Allan R. Ellenberger

Stage and film actress, Miriam Hopkins, enjoyed being remembered by the public and her fans, even as she aged. In the early 1950s, a New York cab driver somehow recognized her from her role as Champagne Ivy, the dance hall prostitute in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde which was released twenty years earlier. She was flattered that the cabbie remembered her, but it also depressed her. “You see, what they recall so vividly is that scene in which my legs hang over the side of the bed,” she sighed. “An actress spends a lifetime perfecting the art of acting and what do people remember? Dangling legs!”*

 

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Happy Birthday Olivia de Havilland

Friday, June 30th, 2017

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Miriam Hopkins update

Saturday, June 10th, 2017

Miriam Hopkins: Life and Films of a Hollywood Rebel, to be published by University Press of Kentucky

 

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UPDATE: My upcoming biography, Miriam Hopkins: Life and Films of a Hollywood Rebel, to be published on January 5, 2018 by the University Press of Kentucky, is available NOW for pre-order at 30% off the cover price thru June 30, 2017 at UPK’s website! Please use discount code FS30 when ordering. Thank you.

 

 By Allan R. Ellenberger

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After tens years of research, interviews and writing, on Friday, I was notified that my biography of actress Miriam Hopkins will be published by the University Press of Kentucky as part of their Screen Classics series. The people of UPK have been great and I look forward to working with them

Miriam Hopkins (1902-1972), a top star during Hollywood’s Golden Age, was a complex, independent-minded woman decades ahead of her time. A hard-working (and highly demanding) professional, Hopkins was also a sexually daring, self-educated intellectual, who happened to be a firm believer in liberal causes

She had a reputation as one of the screen’s most difficult and temperamental actresses. A close friend, Tennessee Williams, worked with Hopkins and after an initially difficult period, he accepted her extremes. He once described her extremes as “morning mail and morning coffee,” and at other times she was like “hat-pin jabbed in your stomach. The quintessence of the female, a really magnificent bitch.

Hopkins was exceptionally smart; one who never let anyone find out how smart she was until it was too late. After many years of research, I was amazed at her intellect and temperament, which would erupt unexpectedly and disappear as quickly. Sometimes her demanding mother would trigger it, but in most cases, she was fighting for her career—or so she thought

Throughout the 1930’s, the freewheeling Hopkins was a unique case, remaining a top Hollywood star at no less than four studios: Paramount, RKO, Goldwyn and Warner Bros. And no matter where she worked, in her quest for better opportunities, Hopkins fearlessly tackled the studios’ powers-that-be, from the venerated Samuel Goldwyn to the irascible Jack Warner

Hopkins’ biography offers numerous stories—some humorous, some ugly—about her countless battles with co-workers on the set of her plays and films. Whatever drove her—be it ambition, insecurity, or something altogether different, she created conflict with her fellow actors. She was either loved or hated; there was rarely anything in-between. And to say that Hopkins was “difficult and temperamental” would be an understatement. She was Barbra Streisand, Faye Dunaway and Jane Fonda rolled into one

Having said that, whenever she trusted the work of her director and co-stars, she was an ideal team player, but if she did not, life for them was not worth living. If rewriting screenplays, directing her fellow actors and her directors, fighting with producers and the studio’s front office was necessary, so be it

But in Hopkins’ mind, she was never temperamental. “Proof of that is that I made four pictures with Willie Wyler, who is a very demanding director,” she once said. “I made two with Rouben Mamoulian, who is the same. Three with Ernst Lubitsch, such a dear man. When you are asked to work again with such directors, you cannot be temperamental.

In 1940, she made theater history by starring in Tennessee Williams’ first produced play, Battle of Angels. In the beginning, there were problems, but they soon came to terms. “Difficult? I guess so,” Williams reasoned. “But not with me. She was every Southern divinity you could imagine. Smart and funny and elegant, and I kept looking for her in Joanne [Woodward], and Carrie Nye and Diane Ladd, but there was no one like her. No one. I will hear nothing bad of Miriam Hopkins.

Ironically, I started working on Miriam Hopkins’ life story because of Bette Davis, who was a favorite. I enjoyed watching Hopkins clash with the indomitable Warner Bros. star in their two films together: The Old Maid and Old Acquaintance. There are stories about their dynamic real-life feud, and years later, the image of a post-stroke Davis ranting on television on how demanding her former co-star could be. For her part, Hopkins denied the bad blood between them. That intrigued me. She would say, “Yes, I know the legend is that Bette Davis and I were supposed to have had a feud. Utter rubbish. Bette and I got along fine. I’d love to make another picture with her.” Even more rubbish

I began watching Hopkins’ other films: the ones in which she collaborated with directors, Ernst Lubitsch, Rouben Mamoulian, and William Wyler, in addition to her lesser-known Paramount fare. It was then that I discovered Miriam Hopkins in command of her sexuality. Whether as a dance-hall prostitute in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931), a participant in a ménage a trois in Design for Living (1933), or a rape victim in the scandalous The Story of Temple Drake (1933), she proved that sex was more than a three-letter word: at times, it could be raw and terrifying; at others, it could be sensual, sophisticated fun

In 1932, columnist Cal York chose Miriam Hopkins as the “best bet for stardom,” ranking her above Joan Blondell, Jean Harlow, Carole Lombard, Sylvia Sidney and Helen Hayes. York wasn’t off the mark. Still, Hopkins temperament would hinder her rise to “stardom.” My biography on the actress examines her career decline and her several attempts at a comeback

In 1935, she made motion picture history by starring in the title role of the first all-Technicolor feature film, Becky Sharp, based on Thackeray’s Vanity Fair. For her performance, she received a Best Actress Academy Award nomination (she lost to—who else?—her future archrival Bette Davis)

Chronicled will be Hopkins’ remarkable film career along with the importance of her lasting legacy on the Broadway stage. Regrettably, her widely acclaimed live performances survive only in the recollections of those who witnessed them. Thus, what remain of Hopkins’ art are her films

Eventually, Hopkins appeared in 36 films, 40 stage plays, guest appearances in the early days of television, and on countless radio shows. In these media, she worked with Carole Lombard, Gary Cooper, Jane Fonda, Edgar Bergen, Bing Crosby, William Powell, Sally Field, Henry Fonda, Loretta Young, Orson Welles, Olivia de Havilland, Peter Lorre, Merle Oberon, Claudette Colbert, Ray Milland, Elizabeth Montgomery, Coleen Dewhurst, Robert Redford and dozens more

Her friendships were as celebrated as well, but instead of actors, Hopkins hung around with writers and intellectuals such as writers Theodore Dreiser, Dorothy Parker, Gertrude Stein, and, of course, Tennessee Williams

In her love life, she was independent-minded and just as discriminating. She would have four husbands and dozens of lovers; most were writers including Bennett Cerf, William Saroyan, and John Gunther. Hopkins, once again ahead of her time, was a single mother. In 1932, she adopted a baby boy, being one of the first Hollywood stars to do so and starting a trend for such adoptions

She was an avid reader, sometimes a writer herself, a lover of poetry, and a patron of the arts. Over the years, her political beliefs vacillated from the far right to the far left. She held positions in political organizations that had the FBI tracking her actions for almost four decades, marking her as a perceived “communist sympathizer.

She was one of Hollywood’s brainiest women—yet, she was absurdly superstitious. A believer in the occult, she would not accept film or stage roles, move to a new home, or take long trips without consulting a psychic

Despite all her eccentricities, Hopkins proved that she was an accomplished performer who happened to have her own set of rules and her own personal demons. Although she was aware of being a part of film history—how could Margaret Mitchell’s personal choice to play Scarlet O’Hara not have been—she was not sentimental about her existence or her career. She kept no scrapbooks, clippings, or photographs. It was irrelevant to document or discuss her past

But no matter. This first-ever Hopkins biography will provide the real, complex, and at times a contradictory portrait of a woman who had her faults, and idiosyncrasies, but who was a major (and fearless) professional achiever—one who could be generous, gracious, and selfless

Once you read about the ambiguous, fascinatingly larger than life character that was Miriam Hopkins, you may agree with Tennessee Williams that she truly was a “magnificent bitch.”

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Los Angeles Pet Memorial Park & Crematory: Hollywood’s Dog Heaven

Monday, February 20th, 2017

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By Allan R. Ellenberger

On Thanksgiving Day, 1935, a small group of people gathered on a hill in Calabasas to pay their last respects to actress Alice Brady’s beloved Sammy. Age 16, Sammy had been Brady’s pet wire-terrier, and rather than consign his remains somewhere disrespectful, Brady had him interred in a crypt at the local pet cemetery. The epitaph reads, quite simply, “Sammy—My Boy.” Two years later, her favorite dog Nina passed away and was buried at a cost of $300. The next week, her dachshund died of distemper.

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Newspaper notice of the death of Alice Brady's terrier, Nina

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The Los Angeles Pet Memorial Park & Crematory,  was founded in 1928 and is located off the Ventura Freeway twenty miles from Hollywood, has a mausoleum (built in 1929), combined with crematory and columbarium, for the interment of a beloved pet. With more than 40,000 pets interred, on the cemetery’s thirty acres, it is one of the largest and oldest of its kind on the West Coast.

Humphrey Bogart’s cocker spaniel, Lionel Barrymore’s dozen dogs and cats, Tonto’s horses, Good Scout and Smoke, and Hopalong Cassidy’s Topper have been buried here since the 1920s.

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Because of its proximity to the film capitol, many of the creatures buried on its thirty acres are the pets of famous movie stars. One of them is Mae West’s pet monkey, Boogie who made his screen debut in I’m No Angel and died in late 1933. Boogie was laid out in a fancy lined casket, but no headstone. Around the same time the Countess di Frasso’s fourteen year-old dog died and was buried in a white casket.

And there is Jiggs, a nine year-old chimpanzee who died in March 1938 of pneumonia. Jiggs had his own social security number and was a member in good standing with the Screen Actor’s Guild. His funeral at the cemetery was attended by Dorothy Lamour, Bing Crosby and Ray Milland. He last appeared on film in Her Jungle Love (1938) with Lamour.

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Rudolph Valentino and his pet, Kabar

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Marker of Rudolph Valentino's pet, Kabar (Source: Weird California)

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Kabar, a Doberman pinscher, was the pet of Rudolph Valentino and was sent to him as a present from a Belgian diplomat in appreciation of Valentino’s acting. When Valentino died, Kabar disappeared for months and when he returned he was half-starved and his feet were bleeding. Veterinarians who examined him estimated that he had crossed the continent to New York and back searching for his owner. For two weeks he hung around Valentino’s old home, depressed and unhappy, then with a broken heart, he died. Alberto, Valentino’s brother rewarded Kabar’s faithfulness with a grave and a bronze maker that reads, “Kabar, My Faithful Dog. Rudolph Valentino, Owner.”

Not far from Kabar is the pet of Valentino’s former wife, Jean Acker, a pet she named Bunky Valentino. The bronze marker reads: “1931—1945, Bunky Valentino, All My Love. Jean Acker Valentino.” In the same area is Puzzums, the Mack Sennett cat. Puzzums freelanced most of the time and in his heyday earned $250 a week. Found abandoned as a kitten, Puzzums appeared with Maurice Chevalier and Jeannette MacDonald. His last film was Handy Andy (1934) with Will Rogers. He died from complications caused by an ulcerated tooth in August 1934 at age eight.

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Maurice Chevalier holding Puzzums the cat

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Miriam Hopkins with her wire terrier, Jerry

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When Miriam Hopkins’s wire-haired fox terrier, Jerry passed away in 1932, she telephoned the cemetery. In a short time a funeral car called for the body and he was placed in a hermetically sealed casket. Jerry was then taken to the cemetery and placed in his designated plot, one that had been reserved for him.

Also among the pets buried there are John Gilbert’s Topsy, Dolores Del Rio’s Da Da, and Oscar Strauss’s Hansi. Marian Marsh’s Pekinese, King, has a tombstone costing $150 and there is also Dumpsie, who acted opposite Eddie Cantor, Lee Tracy, Elissa Landi and other stars and who was slain, it was rumored, by foul means.

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Louise Dresser’s Bubbie is honored with an epitaph: “Bubbie. A Gallant Little Soldier, July 12, 1929.” Not far from Bubbie lie two of Corinne Griffith’s pets, Bozo, a prize St. Bernard, and Black Raider, a once lively terrier. In the mausoleum, in one of the crypts, is Jiggs, the Boston bull terrier of Jimmy Murphy. Across from the crypts, there are niches. Here you will find Billie Burke’s police dog, Gloria Swanson’s Rusty, a pet of John Barrymore’s and a dog belonging to stage and screen actor, Edmund Breese.

To learn more, check out the cemetery’s website HERE

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