MGM Star Watching in ‘Weekend at the Waldorf’ 1945

 

Van Johnson, Lana Turner, Ginger Rogers, and Walter Pidgeon head a cast of
MGM favorites in 1945's "Weekend at the Waldorf."

MGM’s all-star confection, Weekend at the Waldorf, was released the fall of 1945, at the end of WWII. But it was filmed nearly a year earlier, when the war was still raging. Weekend is MGM in full dream factory mode. Each storyline is a wish fulfillment for its characters, and by extension, the era’s film fans.

Moviegoers ate up Weekend at the Waldorf like an all you can eat buffet. The remake of 1932’s Grand Hotel was a smash and the biggest movie of Ginger Rogers’ career, and after Peyton Place, Lana Turner’s, too. Weekend was in the top ten grossing movies of 1945.

Metro's 1945 "Weekend at the Waldorf" was a box office smash.

As far as Vicki Baum’s original novel or the ’32 film classic is concerned, Weekend at the Waldorf bears little resemblance to either works. The ’45 remake is set in a luxury hotel and there’s some bare bones character equivalents. Greta Garbo’s ballerina is now a film star—tired, but not suicidal; Joan Crawford’s stenographer is still one, but far softer. The most notable thing is that the film no longer takes place in Germany, and is very Americanized for WWII audiences.

Ginger Rogers as a overworked movie star & Walter Pidgeon as a weary
war correspondent fall for each other in MGM's "Weekend at the Waldorf."

Ginger Rogers is Irene Malvern, an overworked movie star who has a Hepburn/Tracy-style romance with war correspondent Chip Collyer (Walter Pidgeon). This made me wonder why MGM just didn’t cast Metro stars Kate and Spence as the bickering duo—too fluffy for these fine thespians? Or why they borrowed Ginger when they could have re-teamed their top star Greer Garson with Pidgeon. Scheduling issues, I’m sure, as movie-making was hitting its peak.

Lana Turner is the hotel stenographer with a soft spot for soldier Van Johnson in MGM's "Weekend at the Waldorf."

Lana Turner is Bunny Smith, the stenographer who makes injured soldier Jim Hollis’ dreams come true. Though looking for a rich man, this Bunny seems more cuddly than calculating. This ’45 Weekend is sentimentally sanitized in this way throughout. Also, the soldier (Van Johnson) takes a dead soldier buddy’s song to Waldorf’s resident star attraction, Xavier Cugat, who instantly decides to perform it the next night on his radio show.

Phyllis Thaxter is the bride-to-be in Weekend at the Waldorf, who wonders if doctor fiancé Warner Anderson is still stuck on his childhood sweetheart, Ginger’s movie star. Of course not, film fans! But this leads to contrived misunderstandings that drive this movie—and is true of all of the subplots in Weekend.

A young couple wants to honeymoon at the booked Waldorf, when a kindly millionaire who just happens to be at the check-in desk lets the soldier and bride take over his suite for the weekend. It’s that kind of MGM movie!

The honeymooners want a suite in MGM's "Weekend at the Waldorf."

Weekend at the Waldorf boasts a bit of location shooting from NYC, the rest was done deluxe style at MGM. Of course, Metro soon recycled the lavish sets for Hedy Lamarr's Her Highness and the Bellboy.

Ginger Rogers sports some elaborate 'dos in MGM's "Weekend at the Waldorf."

"Weekend at the Waldorf:" Leon Ames, reacting to Ginger Roger's lines or hair 'do?

Sydney Guilaroff and crew must have worked overtime on Ginger's locks and falls. All that hair for a Weekend at the Waldorf! Ginger's a bit grand as the movie star, but for Rogers, relatively restrained. Although Rogers’ overall look is a bit much, it’s toned down compared to what would soon come: blinding platinum blonde and an overdrawn makeup mask. Weekend would also be one of Rogers’ last mega hits. The next one came from MGM as well, taking over for Judy Garland in 1949’s The Barkleys of Broadway, and reuniting her with Fred Astaire.

The softer side of Lana Turner, as Bunny Smith in MGM's "Weekend at the Waldorf."

Lana's very sweet and warm as Bunny; Turner’s early roles like this show what made audiences originally fall in love with her. Aside from perfect hair and makeup, Lana’s simply dressed and performs simply and believably, as well. There’s a genuinely touching scene, where Van Johnson’s soldier comes to Bunny’s stenographer to help him write a will. Lana’s responses to Van’s subtly played soldier, who has few family or friends, are most affecting.

Lana Turner's stenographer helps soldier Van Johnson write his will in a
touching scene from MGM's "Weekend at the Waldorf."

Like Ginger, Lana's hair-do looks like it was constructed! The hair-don’t ages her overall look, as she was just 24 at the time. Thankfully, the bright, soft lighting tones the ‘do down a bit.

The young stars of "Weekend at the Waldorf" look more appealing in the film than this p.r. photo. Van Johnson's freckles have all been airbrushed. Lana Turner's
hair and makeup is so matronly here, she was only 24!

MGM had a history of pedaling Metro’s female stars backstories into their personas: Joan, Lana, and Judy on the working class side, and also their British lasses, Greer, Deborah, and Liz. Like Joan before her, Lana’s working class roots are blended into her character’s desire to move upwardly in life.

Lana Turner as Bunny Smith & Van Johnson as Jimmy Hollis in "Weekend at the Waldorf."

Van Johnson, as the soldier with both shrapnel and Lana close to his heart, is very appealing in his boyish youth—and I'm not even a Van fan. Johnson was one of Metro’s many all-round talented players: Van could sing and dance decently, had a flair for comedy, and could be a very natural dramatic actor. Here, as Jimmy Hollis, Van’s fatalistic soldier is sympathetic, not maudlin.

Walter Pidgeon, Ginger Rogers, a stellar view in 1945's "Weekend at the Waldorf."

Walter Pidgeon is livelier than usual, as a seen-it-all war journalist. Pidgeon has an amused rapport with Ginger’s brittle movie star. I didn't recognize Warner Anderson’s doc at first, but the minute I heard him speak—Matthew Swain from TV’s Peyton Place! Anderson is a solid screen presence, offering advice to childhood pal Ginger, offering a second opinion to soldier Van, and a steady Eddy to his insecure bride-to-be.

On the debit side were these following actors, just my personal tastes, folks. Edward Arnold plays the glad-handing villain once again, but never seems as threatening, just smarmy. Keenan Wynn always gives me the creeps, like he’s trying to hide that he’s crazy. When Wynn plays comedy, he’s very heavy-handed, as in his “drunk” scene in The Clock. Here, as the cub reporter, Wynn’s borderline obnoxious. Xavier Cugat is an acquired taste as well—if you enjoy bombastic, you’ll love him. And Robert Benchley's one of those great personalities of the era whose appeal I have never understood, much like Oscar Levant, Monty Woolley, or Hoagy Carmichael. Their charms are lost on me.

MGM's all-star cast aren't just phoning it in with MGM's "Weekend at the Waldorf."

If you are in the mood for great escapism and star watching, this is perhaps MGM's biggest and best example from the WWII era. There’s also nostalgia for New York City, the Waldorf Astoria, and the sense of a rapidly changing era. If any of these reasons appeal to you, Weekend at the Waldorf is a great place to check in.

Here’s my look at one of four 1941 movies that cemented the stardom of Lana Turner, Ziegfeld Girl:

https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2021/02/ziegfeld-girl-1941.html

Here’s my take on a dramatic musical that was a huge wartime hit for Ginger Rogers, Lady in the Dark:

https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2019/05/lady-in-dark-is-over-top-style-over.html

This gown's sash make Ginger Rogers look like Rapunzel in 1945's "Weekend at the Waldorf!"

Ginger Rogers Goes Big in ‘Tight Spot’ 1955

Ginger Rogers & Brian Keith star in the crime film noir sleeper, "Tight Spot."

 

Tight Spot is basically a “B+” movie that made a bit of money, thanks to its low production costs, and good word of mouth upon release. For Ginger Rogers, Tight Spot offered the versatile/veteran star a throwback to her brash, street smart roles of the early ‘30s. The gritty little noir was released in 1955, just as male lead Brian Keith was making his mark in movies.

Tight Spot was based on a stage play about a female prison inmate who is pressured to testify against her gangster ex-lover at an upcoming trial. The feds think it would be easier to soften the con up at a hotel under police protection, rather than the city’s jail. Nearly all the action takes place at the hotel, which adds to the hothouse atmosphere, but also feels a little stagey. Whatever, there’s hardly a wasted moment, what with Keith’s cop and Rogers’ con sparring, gangsters plotting, and the clock ticking until the big court date Monday morning.

Cop Brian Keith buys prisoner Ginger Rogers a pretty frock.
Fed attorney Edward G. Robinson doesn't seem impressed! The trio in "Tight Spot."

Ginger's chatty con recalls her start as a model at age 16—Rogers was 43 when Tight Spot was filmed. Hmm, that’s a lot of laps for a swimsuit model and gangster’s moll. Roger’s character is probably 30-ish, which makes Sherry’s sobbing to a prison matron, after the gangsters attack, a nod to her lost innocence. But with a middle-aged woman bawling like a motherless child, it seems absurd. Especially since Katherine N. Anderson, as matron Mrs. Willoughby, was a decade younger than Rogers. Eve McVeagh, eight years Rogers’ senior, plays the “big sister” Clara, who escaped their troubled family home via marriage. Their reunion scene has Sherry and Clara in a family dysfunction smack down, far before Jerry Springer. By the way, Anderson is still alive at 98!

Ginger Rogers as Sherry Conley, former model and gangster moll in "Tight Spot."

As Sherry Conley, Ginger Rogers gives her all and then some, much like the latter day Joan Crawford during this time frame. Gloria Grahame or Jan Sterling could have played Sherry in their sleep, but like Joan, Ginger was hired for her residual marquee value. Leonard Maltin aptly likened Rogers’ brassy banter to Judy Holliday in Born Yesterday. Whether you’re entranced or enervated by such diva dramatics, no one could accuse Rogers of walking gingerly through Tight Spot. And like Crawford, Ginger's cropped hairdo provided a stark comparison to the over-made up face of 40-something Rogers. It works for the character (which I don't think was the intention) but couldn’t have served Ginger well with '50s audiences. And that dress that Keith's cop picks out for Rogers’ Sherry—polka dots, Peter Pan collar, and a bow—perfect, for a child! There’s also an incongruous mix between Ginger’s glamour mask—including long, painted nails—after just getting sprung from prison at the last minute, while her frumpy frock is still wet from laundry duty. Speaking of Crawford, Lucy Marlow, who got roughed up by Joan’s Queen Bee the same year, plays “Prison Girl” in Tight Spot, who gets the inside scoop from Ginger’s inmate. Small world!

Ginger Rogers works up a sweat as a prison inmate in "Tight Spot." 

Brian Keith, as cop Vince Striker, is well on his way with his patented laconic, rumpled persona. Keith is restrained and of the modern school of acting and this makes an interesting contrast with Rogers’ old-school performance.

Brian Keith as cop Vince Striker in "Tight Spot."

Edward G. Robinson is solid as always, with a more restrained character and performance, as the federal attorney. Lorne Greene is in his suave oily period as gangster Benjamin Costain, before he became saintly Ben Cartwright on Bonanza. Look for Kathryn Grant, the future Mrs. Bing Crosby, as the bride whose honeymoon is interrupted by gangsters running roughshod at the hotel.

Ginger Rogers' inmate resists Edward G. Robinson's attorney to testify in 'Tight Spot.'

Interestingly, director Phil Karlson and screenwriter William Bowers both excelled at the film noir and western genre. Though Karlson was known as strong, economic director, he never graduated to “A” films, like so many name directors who honed their talent in “B’s.” However, he worked with some diverse stars: Abbott and Costello; early Marilyn Monroe; Elvis in Kid Galahad; and Dean Martin in two Matt Helm films. His last film, Walking Tall, was a huge hit, which benefited him financially. And Bowers had a long career writing mostly westerns for TV and film, though he had a few solid noirs under his belt.

Ginger Rogers' prisoner cries her eyes out after a gangster attack in "Tight Spot."

As for Tight Spot’s story, better to focus on the taut tale of the prisoner who’s targeted before she can testify, rather than the hokey attraction between the cop and the con. I take the conventional romance with a grain of old time movie salt, since this was the '50s, filtered through Hollywood’s lens. But the pair falling for each other within a span of a weekend is a bit dicey, even back then. There’s also a nifty twist and a realistic ending. Tight Spot would make a great double feature with Storm Warning, for Ginger’s down and dirty noir outings.

Here’s my look at Ginger, in one of her best dramatic performances, with Doris Day and Ronald Reagan, standing up to the KKK, in Storm Warning: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2019/05/ginger-reagan-doris-day-vs-kkk-in-storm.html

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page. 

Check it out & join!  https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/

Washed up? No way! Ginger Rogers drives this star vehicle home!

!

Ginger, Reagan, & Doris Day VS the KKK in ‘Storm Warning’ 1951

Wholesome Ginger Rogers, RR, & DD are up against the wicked KKK in this WB melodrama.

Storm Warning is a watchable, well-acted 1951WB melodrama—that could have been so much more. The story of a woman who visits her younger sister and witnesses a Ku Klux Klan killing was inexplicably watered down. Warner Brothers, renowned for their hard-hitting social dramas of the ‘30s, diluted the drama by not calling out the Klan for what they are and setting the story in generic anywhere, USA.

I love the cliche cast arm-in-arm publicity photo, when in most movie dramas, characters are at each others' throats!

Other studios were making pictures dealing with race. Stuart Heisler was a gutsy director and screenwriters Richard Brooks and Daniel Fuchs had already written about the topic, so the decision must have come from Jack Warner. WB’s Storm Warning, made in ’49, but released in early 1951, depicted the Klan killing of a white reporter, for nosing around their shady financial dealings. Uh, okay, who knew that money laundering was the Klan’s claim to fame? The Ku Klux Klan is only called the Klan, and the fictional town of Rock Point is even vaguer, referred to as “down here!” While the Klan was in many parts of the US, it’s implied the town is southern, despite the lack of accents. The only blacks to be seen are in the crowd scenes at the inquest. The lack of locale and whitewashing the Klan’s true purpose defuses what could have been a powerful social drama.

*Some spoilers ahead!

Travelling dress model Marsha Mitchell (Rogers) stopped in town to visit her kid sister before Christmas.
Is she wondering why the townspeople are wearing white after Labor Day?

Marsha Mitchell, a New York dress model travelling by bus to her next gig, decides to stop over night in Rock Point, where her young married sister Lucy lives with trucker husband Hank Rice. As Marsha attempts to get a cab to the local recreation center where her sister works, the locals seem unusually unfriendly, and are closing everything up early. Marsha the model heads off on foot—in high heels—to the center, she happens upon an outbreak from the local jail. Men in hooded sheets are corralling a bound and gagged man from the building when he breaks away. One of the men shoots him, and Marsha witnesses it all, unseen by the KKK. She sees two men who are unmasked.

"I Saw What You Did"with the KKK. Rogers' visiting sister lets brother-in-law Hank (Steve Cochran) know what's up!
Doris Day is the kid sis and young wife, Lucy. 

Marsha high tails it to the local recreation center and Lucy, spilling her story. She recognizes some of the men (by their shoes?) and points them out to her sister, who knows them. When they get back to Lucy’s house, who has told Marsha that she’s pregnant, her husband Hank arrives. Marsha instantly recognizes him as one of the KKK. Awkward! Let’s just say it’s a helluva icebreaker. When DA Burt Rainey (Ronald Reagan) finds out that Marsha was in the vicinity of the killing, he wants her on the witness stand at the inquest. Charley Barr (Hugh Sanders), Klan big Kahuna and Hank’s boss, wants Marsha to keep quiet. Though inquest is a success for the Klan, Hank can’t leave well enough alone, namely Marsha, and follows her back to the house to “celebrate” with her. What follows is a near-rape interrupted only by his wife. After he roughs up both women, he drags Marsha off to the KKK meeting as a mystery guest.  Ginger’s Marsha now refuses to keep quiet, which then makes her the evening’s entertainment: getting horsewhipped by a Klan member while the others watch, agog… and so will you. Reagan’s Rainey arrives with Doris’ Lucy and Hank once again makes things worse, by trying to shoot his sister-in-law, which leads to the tragic finale.

The opening scenes of 'Storm Warning' are filmed in unsettling film noir style by director Stuart Heisler.

Director Stuart Heisler, who should have gotten more prestige projects, has a powerful point of view in Storm Warning. The storytelling is strong, especially the opening scenes, where Marsha arrives. Visually striking and eerily foreboding, Rogers’ Marsha gets rebuffed by everyone she meets as the small town seemingly shuts down in unison. And when she stumbles upon the outbreak with the Klan and their victim, hiding in the shadows, is stunning. The direction, cinematography, and score all heighten the tension in the best film noir style.

Heisler’s take on small town life feels authentic, and the supporting cast and extras look like real people from that era, not a glam film version of local life. The viewer feels a part of the crowd scenes in the recreation center, the inquest, and the Klan rally. These scenes are intense and claustrophobic.

The KKK is about to show NYC model Marsha Mitchell what they think about outspoken women!

What director Heisler seemed to have is a knack for getting good performances from actors, especially when the acting style of film’s golden era was often theatrical. Ginger Rogers, while quite versatile as a musical, comedy, and dramatic performer, could often be quite arch and overstated as her stardom went on. Here, Rogers gives one of her best dramatic performances. The scene when she witnesses the murder by the Klan could have been very melodramatic. But it’s all in Rogers’ eyes, with shadows surrounding her face, and the fear, followed by revulsion of what she’s witnessed. Surprisingly for an old movie, after she’s made her escape, she stops to get her bearings, and turns away to vomit.

Ginger Rogers lets rip as the sister-in-law who's had it with her boorish brother-in-law.

Rogers’ character, initially shown to be strong-willed but rather shallow, grows in strength and is not cowed when she recognizes her sleazy brother-in-law as one of the Klan. In fact, in the scenes after the inquest, Rogers’ Marsha shoots down his seduction ploy with ferocity that I didn’t know Ginger possessed. She’s strong and straightforward throughout, with very little posturing. While researching this film, I noticed more than a few film buffs and fans referred to Ginger as “old.” Rogers was 40 at the time. While she didn’t look like the dancing star of the mid ‘30s anymore, Ginger looked like a mature woman with an incredibly slim, toned figure. Clean living Ginger Rogers (a Christian Scientist) certainly looked far better than most of her male contemporaries, who entered the 1950s looking puffy and paunchy, from drugs and/or booze and cigarettes.

Doris Day, in her first dramatic role, is the small town house wife who's about to have her eyes opened.

Doris Day, as the small town wife who wakes up to what’s going on with her husband and community, is incredibly natural. Storm Warning was one of Day’s first films and the only one where she dies. Day wears little makeup, simple clothes, and performs in an unaffected manner, with none of the hysteria that at times marred her few later dramatic performances. Day got some great notices from Storm Warning, but the best one was from Alfred Hitchcock, who complimented her on the performance—and later asked her to star in his remake of The Man Who Knew Too Much. Doris and Ginger make believable sisters and have a nice, no-nonsense rapport.

Doris Day & Ginger Rogers act well together as the two sisters, one young & naive, the other older & street smart.

Ronald Reagan, not an inspired actor in my opinion, is actually very good as DA Rainey. While Reagan fans like to point to Kings Row (“acting” in quotation marks as the town playboy), I think Reagan was competent in the old Hollywood style of posturing, but rarely with any true emotion or heart. But as Rainey, Reagan’s acting is understated and direct, and he is the most natural that I’ve ever seen him on screen.

Ronald Reagan gives a natural, solid performance as the weary but dedicated DA, Burt Rainey.

Steve Cochran, as Rock Point’s Stanley Kowalski, has a field day as the childish brute of a husband, Hank. WB gave Cochran the build up, but buried him by typecasting him as the sexy slime ball. Cochran did have an animal sex appeal that attracted fans, but his version of Streetcar’s Stanley shows that Cochran was to Brando what Mamie Van Doren was to Marilyn Monroe!

While Steve Cochran makes a sexy thug, let's just say he doesn't fill out the role
of the brutish brother-in-law the way Brando does in 'Streetcar."

The supporting cast is great, especially Hugh Sanders as the ominous villain Barr, who frames his evil actions as for the good of the community. Ned Glass is fine as the sympathetic recreation center owner. Sadly, his Hollywood career was sidelined by the Hollywood blacklist.

If the movie pulls the toughest punches, one thing it gets across is the mob mentality from a community that is divided. Many of the stock rationalizations that are bandied about in the film are still heard in today’s political arena. There’s lots of derisive and defensive comments about “outsiders,” “troublemakers,” “we clean up our own messes,” and women being “safe on the street at night.”

Steve Cochran's KKK version of Stanley makes his move on Ginger's infinitely more kick ass version
of a sister-in-law than 'Streetcar's' Blanche!

Many movie critics and fans also noticed the similarity between the visiting older sister Marsha, the naïve younger sister Lucy, and her thug husband Hank, as clones of A Streetcar Named Desire’s legendary Blanche, Stella, and Stanley. Moguls during the studio system were notorious for recycling material. Still, it was shameless of WB to recycle before the original was even released! I wonder if Tennessee Williams realized that he gave WB a two-fer! Just the thought of Williams’ iconic characters tangling with the KKK gives me the giggles.

Steve Cochran's brother-in-law Hank even tries to force the issue with his sister-in-law, like 'Streetcar's' Stanley.

Another amusing thought is that Joan Crawford turned down the Ginger Rogers’ part, reportedly telling Jack Warner that nobody would buy Doris Day as her sister. True, but the thought of Joan getting horse whipped by the KKK would have been high camp.

The bottom line is, as far as Storm Warning goes, it is strong stuff. But by not taking a stronger, direct stand against the Ku Klux Klan, viewers are left with is a melodrama with its convictions undercut.  

Ginger Rogers was a role model for Doris Day when she aspired to go into show business. The two stars
had much in common, starting with that they were Christian Scientists. Both were clean living,
athletic, hard-working, multi-talented,  loved their fans, and sustained long careers in show biz!

‘Lady in the Dark’: Over the Top Style Over Substance 1944

Ginger Rogers isn't turning green because she's singing 'South Pacific' tunes!
Ginger's 'Lady in the Dark' is about to go into a dream sequence is all.

Once groundbreaking, 1941’s Broadway dramatic musical, Lady in the Dark, was a critical and commercial smash for all involved. Lady was especially lucky for the careers of star Gertrude Lawrence, plus newcomers Danny Kaye and Victor Mature. Lady was a sophisticated mix of psychological drama, and music styles of several genres. Lady in the Dark was daring at the time, with analysis in vogue, and women at work in the war years. Yet, the fine points of these two topics soon became dated, leaving this Lady with a somewhat tarnished reputation.

Gertrude Lawrence had a mid-career triumph on Broadway with 'Lady in the Dark,'
 playing over 500 performances. But Hollywood was not going to star a 45 year old
 actress with no film track record in a big movie musical.

Paramount paid nearly $300 thousand dollars for the movie rights to Lady in the Dark. Perplexingly, the studio missed the boat—or specifically, ship—by eliminating what was most memorable about Lady, the instant classic score, including its most famous tune, “My Ship.”

The source material, with the book by Moss Hart, plus words and music by Ira Gershwin and Kurt Weill, dealt with two timely topics: psychoanalysis and career women. Then, Paramount’s film adaptation added its own interpretation. The Hollywood studio system was at its zenith as the entertainment choice of the mainstream public. Hollywood studio heads deemed themselves as the patriarchs of the American way of life. Of course, the bottom line was to appeal to the masses and keep those movie tickets selling! So, the psychiatry of Lady in the Dark was further simplified for filmgoers. More damning was Lady’s message that it was more important to be a “real woman” than a career woman, which was constantly drummed throughout Lady, and through decades of filmmaking, as well.

Ginger Rogers' Liza Elliot is called "boss lady" by her male co-worker & told by her shrink that she "cares little for feminine adornment!" Because, pinstripes?!

What the studio did keep was the story of Liza Elliot, editor of “Allure” fashion magazine. Liza (Ginger Rogers) is stricken with anxiety, depression, and disturbing dreams. Her professional and personal life only exacerbates Elliot’s issues. At work, advertising hot shot Charley Johnson (Ray Milland) has his eye on her job and badmouths her femininity. On the home front, Liza has a safe harbor relationship with a wealthy married man old enough to be her father (Warner Baxter.) Then movie heartthrob Randy Curtis (Jon Hall) arrives at “Allure” for a photo shoot. Randy is taken with Liza because she’s “not one of those glamour girls.” Gee, thanks, Randy! Then, there is also a hint of attraction amidst the hateful zingers from Charley. This dull lot is just Liza’s current personal baggage.

Ray Milland's good time Charley Johnson & Rogers 'boss lady' duke it out in pinstripes over a circus- versus Easter-themed fashion mag issue. Imagine the results when Liza has a dream sequence mixing both. Their looks sum it up!

I consider myself pretty clear-eyed while watching films from past eras, when dated conventions, situations, or dialogue come up. After all, it was the past. And as we seem to forget the past fairly quickly, I don’t think it hurts to be reminded of outdated past attitudes. But some movie material is beyond the pale, and Lady in the Dark comes pretty close. The barrage of sexist insults to Liza from Charley (him telling a co-worker that all Liza needs is a night out and a good…), or the patronizing, prehistoric advice from Liza’s shrink (that she needs a man to dominate her), had me wincing or rolling my eyes.  

Liza takes the advice from her doc that she needs a shrink as if she had a fatal disease!
 I never realized what big blue eyes Ginger Rogers had until I saw 'Lady in the Dark.'

As a talent, Ginger Rogers was always a game girl. She started off as a dancer, but always tried to broaden her range. At her best, Rogers was a graceful, energetic dancer, a decent singer, an engaging comic performer who was great with wisecracks, and a solid dramatic actress. And Ginger was all about glamour, which was worshiped in studio era Hollywood. However, biographer David Chierichetti wrote that director Mitchell Leisen said that Rogers could not relate to the psychiatric profession, which he felt hindered her performance in Lady in the Dark. This seems odd, since Ginger wanted to make this film. Also, Ginger’s doubt should have suited the role, as Liza takes the advice from her family doctor to seek therapy as if she was ordered to get a lobotomy.

Perhaps Liza Elliot is thinking about the size of her shrink bill after checking out the
 doc's stylish office digs! That's a very young Barry Sullivan as Dr. Brooks.

Wouldn’t it have been ironic if Paramount had borrowed Rosalind Russell from MGM to play Lady’s Liza Elliot? Russell made her career in comedies playing strong career women—who usually gave up work by the last reel! Roz was able to play brittle while retaining her likeability. I also couldn’t help but wonder what Joan Crawford might have brought to this role. Even in her heyday, everyone knew that Joan’s career was all to her, and Crawford could have given an intriguing portrayal.

Ray Milland is a shithead with a whip & Ginger Rogers a lady in a cage in the circus dream.

Though engaging performers, neither Ginger Rogers nor Ray Milland, as Liza the “boss lady” and her office adversary, Charley Johnson, come off well. This isn’t their fault, since their roles and especially the dialogue, are impossibly slanted. Rogers comes across as a peevish pill and Milland as a horse’s ass. One wonders what Cary Grant, who played a charming but needling jerk in Hitchcock’s Notorious, might have done as Charley. Cary’s comedic persona was infinitely more charismatic than Milland’s.

As often the case, movie posters finesse the facts. Ginger's Liza Elliot is more lost
than in love, and isn't that keen on any of the three rather dull leading men.

Rogers’ Liza receives constant criticism for not looking feminine enough. You see, she wears—gasp!—tailored dresses. But the work wear is always accessorized with towering hairdos, lacquered makeup, jungle red nails, high heels, and furs! This was classic Hollywood’s idea of austerity style—wearing pinstripes. Edith Head designed the modern clothes.  It’s amusing that the other characters chide Liza for her dress, because Edith’s streamlined clothes for Rogers’ character remain timeless and chic, while everything else looks like campy costumes.

Before there was Lady Gaga's "meat" dress, there was Ginger Rogers' "mink" dress!

Though Edith Head is generally given kudos for all the costumes, the film credits cite three designers, who created the garish glamour for Lady in the Dark. Raoul Pene Du Bois created designs for the dream sequences and Madame Barbara Karinska lent her skills to make the fur fly for the film’s much-publicized “mink dress.” Yes, before Lady Gaga’s “meat dress,” there was Ginger’s “mink dress!” The mink portions of the heavily sequined dress had to be redesigned, requiring Karinska’s services. The first attempt was so heavy, that Ginger couldn’t even walk, much less dance, in the gown. IMO, the debated mink gown sure looks like an Edith Head number, but I’m no costume expert. 

The mink reveals a gown with more sequins than Bob Mackie or Cher could ever imagine!

The dress was highly publicized as costing $35,000—for a fur gown to dance in—which truly symbolizes the wrongheaded approach by Paramount to Lady in the Dark. Frankly, some of the “wow” costumes remind me of the designs that Mae West wore in her final films (by Edith Head) or Lucille Ball’s heavy, clunky clothes from Mame.

The $35,000 mink gown opens to reveal sequins and Ginger's famous legs!

The dream sequences are something out of The Wizard of Oz—in fact, Liza’s work confidante refers to her shrink as such. Also, in Liza’s wedding dream sequence, Rogers is so laden down with a huge platinum pageboy wig, a towering bridal veil, and a kewpie doll painted face, that she looks like Billie Burke’s Glinda the Good Witch. There are so many singers, dancers, scenery, exaggerated costumes, and apparently every smoke machine that Paramount could muster, that Lady looks like Oz—or a mammoth, melting Technicolor cake. Paramount star Mae West once commented that too much of a good thing is wonderful, but I’d use these dream sequences as proof that it isn’t!

Here's Ginger looking like Glinda the Good Witch in one of 'Lady in the Dark's'
 demented dream sequences.

The one sequence where Ginger gets to show off some of her fabled spice is in “The Saga of Jenny” number. Rogers’ in great form here and gets to work that mink dress like nobody’s business.

There are subtle, delightful touches scattered throughout the film amongst the overkill. Lady’s opening titles are clever, mimicking “Allure” magazine. And the dream sequences’ segues are smoothly skillful. It’s a sad commentary that the scenes depicting Liza’s daily life are more visually pleasing than the near-nauseating fantasy dream sequences.

Interestingly, the introductions to the dream sequences are clever and creative.

Mitchell Leisen’s skills have been criticized by some film historians as style over substance. Or that Leisen lucked out in having Billy Wilder, Charles Brackett, and Preston Sturges work for him when they were screen writers. There is truth to this, but he had his gifts—with actors, comic material, and visual style. But with such tricky material as Lady in the Dark, perhaps a stronger director would have fought the unfortunate material cuts, the over the top taste level, and the negative emphasis on the leads’ characters. Leisen’s Lady in the Dark and Frenchman’s Creek, while big commercial successes in 1944, were expensive and problematic to make, badly reviewed, and ultimately, not well-remembered. Leisen’s work without such talented up and comers just didn’t compare.

A perfect example of how Paramount killed 'Lady' with overkill: Ginger & Don Loper
 dancing around what looks like neon candy canes & "fog" that looks like they're being exterminated!

Among the rest of the cast, there are some interesting performers. Young Barry Sullivan, whose voice sounds like it hadn’t changed yet, plays Liza’s shrink, Dr. Brooks. Mischa Auer has a field day as Russell, the flaming fashion photographer. Mary Gilbert is great fun as Rogers’ wise sidekick, Maggie. She was also Humphrey Bogart’s first wife! Gorgeous Gail Russell appears in an early role as Rogers’ high school love rival in a flashback. The difference here Gail was actually a teenager when this was filmed. And yes, we are treated once again to Ginger playing a pre-teen in a pinafore during the circus dream scene. At least Rogers doesn’t play little Liza in the flashbacks with her parents!

Yet another movie where 30 and over Ginger plays a juvenile in a pinafore.

There have been surprisingly few theatrical revivals or filmed versions of Lady in the Dark, due to the lavish story and its problematic take on women.

Interestingly, Judy Garland played in a one hour radio version of Lady in the Dark in 1953 that showcased the music and utilized just enough dialogue from the show’s book to frame the piece. It’s lovely to listen to. Ann Sothern did a 90 minute television version in 1954 that, judging from the audio clips, imbues Liza with more humor than Ginger and a surprisingly strong voice.

Julie Andrews as Helen Lawson, oops, Gertrude Lawrence performing 'The Saga of Jenny' in the bio flick 'Star!'

In 1968, Julie Andrews played Gertrude Lawrence in the biopic Star, recreating elements of Lady in the Dark. Andrews’ version of “The Saga of Jenny,” though well-sung, looks like a ‘60s TV special starring Valley of the Dolls’ Helen Lawson!

Coincidentally, while I was researching this essay, I saw that a one-weekend Master Voices’ staging of Lady in the Dark was performed at The New York Center April 25-27, 2019. The reviews I saw were fine, and interviews I read with the creators involved said that they addressed the dated scenes between the analyst and Liza. One way was by casting Amy Irving as Doctor Brooks, who performed in a more empathetic manner than past male counterparts. The lines from the shrink, who tells Liza where her emotional problems lie, are now spoken by Liza, giving her self-realization. And some of the more dated, inflammatory lines were just deleted altogether.

So, there just might be a brighter future for further productions of Lady in the Dark. As for the 1944 version, it’s all subjective, depending on why you watch older films. I found this Lady to be fascinating, as in “What were they thinking?”

Here's another fugly fashion overstatement from the wedding dream sequence.
At first glance, I thought this was Mae West, not Ginger Rogers!