‘Where Love Has Gone’ 1964

Mike Connors & Susan Hayward fight over doll of daughter Joey Heatherton. Bette Davis looks on balefully.

"Somewhere along the line, the world has lost all of its standards and all of its taste." Acerbic film critic Judith Crist lifted this line, from 1964’s Where Love Has Gone, to point out the same lack of standards and taste in this sleazy soap. I agree, but it’s also why I enjoyed this crass classic!

Not up on your golden era Hollywood gossip? Where Love Has Gone, a Harold Robbins bestseller, lifts the 1958 Lana Turner-Johnny Stompanato-Cheryl Crane stabbing scandal as its basis. The ’62 novel was snapped up by Joseph E. Levine and Paramount, who assigned the director/screenwriter team who mounted their Robbins bestseller, The Carpetbaggers, for the big screen.

Daughter & mother have a big secret, as well as big hair! Joey Heatherton & Susan Hayward.

The Mildred Pierce-style opening has a naughty bad boy who gets himself fatally caught between a sparring mother and daughter. After the daughter is taken into custody, Daddy is called, and then it's flashback time. It's a good thing that Luke Miller (Mike Connors) is a war hero, because if it wasn't for his uniform, you'd never know it was WWII. The sets and especially the star style of Susan Hayward all signal mid-1960s, not the '40s! Hayward plays Valerie Hayden, a sexually charged artist. Bette Davis is her rich bitch mother, who just thinks she’s in charge. Their off-screen animosity nearly starts WWIII on-screen. And 20-ish Joey Heatherton plays the problem child, Dani? Wasn’t Patty Duke available?!

One critic singled out this piece of furniture Bette's perched on 'as the world's ugliest chair.'

What newlyweds wouldn't love a hideous portrait of this monster-in-law in their new abode?

The film’s story is told on autopilot, via director Edward Dmtryk and John Michael Hayes. Dymtryk’s taut film noir days were long behind him, and Hayes had gone from Alfred Hitchcock to pseudo smart smut like The Carpetbaggers and BUtterfield 8. The cliché fest story-telling, with its over-emphatic "happy" scenes, make viewers wonder how many scenes will pass before everything goes to hell. In Where Love Has Gone, the plot moves with whiplash speed: the war hero and rich girl artist spar; she falls instantly in love when he tells her rich mother off; they marry, their life mapped out for them by meddling mama; then comes a baby girl; he hits the bottle after attempts to be his own man; the artist/wife reverts to being a needy nympho; they divorce and he is cast out of the wealthy family. 

New mother Susan doesn't look very happy. Maybe something to do with HER old mother?

Luke and Valerie’s 15-year-old daughter Dani brings them back together, when she is accused of murdering Mommie's latest playmate. What’s funny is that the neglected daughter's story is pivotal, yet you only see her in the flashback as a swaddled infant, at her christening!

Susan Hayward gets the star treatment in 'Where Love Has Gone' and looks great at 47.

Susan Hayward, after her Oscar win for 1958’s I Want to Live, trudged through a series of trashy soaps, with Valley of the Dolls still to come. Oh, how Susie tries here. Hayward gushes like a political wife in the "happy bride" moments, and soon snarls like a banshee in the "unhappy home maker" scenes. When her hubby finally bails on her, Hayward howls up the stairs at him like she's auditioning for Martha in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

"Who's Afraid of Susan Hayward?" In this scene, Mike Connors should be!

Despite the fact that Susan looks sensational at 47, her flashbacks as a blushing bride and new mama are a stretch. Mike Connors as the young war hero/groom, at 39, was pushing credibility, too. It’s to Susan’s no-nonsense credit that she didn’t draw outside the lines of nature with makeup and become a caricature of herself like many golden era divas.

Mike & Susie as newlyweds: "Was this movie good for you?" Wait, don't answer that!

Speaking of which, Bette Davis plays the thankless part as the monster mother. Davis was forced to wear a white Marcel wave wig, which critics sniped, made her look like George Washington. In the ‘60s, Bette was in the hands of Gene Hibbs, whose makeup “magic” on Bette inspired drag queen Charles Pierce. Movie fans may also recall Bette’s big hit, Mr. Skeffington, with Bette’s withered Fanny. Davis looks and acts like a tough prison matron rather than a society matron.

Bette as George Washington: "I can not tell a lie.
I only did this movie to pay for my daughter's wedding!" True story!

As for Davis' performance, she falls back on her famed mannerisms, delivering each line like it's a proclamation, with pauses that you could take a potty break in between. Bette has a few quiet moments, but she's in the movie to manipulate and exacerbate events, not make peace. And her last lines, Davis brings her artificial high pitched line readings. The cemetery scene is a hoot, as Bette’s granny tells Dani in a sing-song delivery, before being led away by her parole officer: “I will come and see you very often.” Then she walks up to her former son-in-law and says his name normally, before nearly shouting at him, “Valerie was destined for tragedy!”

Bette gets the Gene Hibbs magic makeup/mini-facelift treatment... and THIS is the results!

Then there's Joey Heatherton as Dani, Hayward's troubled teen. In a movie with dramatic hair, Joey's tidal wave of brown hair makes her look like a female Elvis, especially with her sleepy eyes and open-mouthed sneer. Dani petulantly pouts "Daddy!" enough times to fill a dozen porno films. The girl veers between a lonely girl and a tough teen. Either way, Joey is not convincing. I recall Rona Barrett joking in her gossip mags if a picture of Joey with her mouth closed actually existed.

Joey Heatherton's lower lip gives her hair a puffy run for the money as 15-year-old 'Dani.'

Mike Connors, late on his 15 year road to stardom before he finally hit it big with Mannix, gives a reasonable if light-weight performance as Luke Miller, war hero/drunk husband/absentee father. 

George MacReady, as the steely family lawyer, gets off the film’s most tawdry double entendre—which is saying something—regarding the dead boy toy: "He wasn't any good at double entry bookkeeping, but he was great at double entry housekeeping."

This is easily the best scene in 'Where Love Has Gone,' when Jane Greer's parole officer
sizes up Hayward's wayward mother!

Jane Greer, as Dani’s parole officer, gives the film's most realistic performance, amidst all the posturing. Greer’s piercing dark eyes and her no-nonsense manner stand out, especially in the home inspection between her and Susan’s wayward mother, and is easily the movie’s most authentic scene.

DeForest Kelley may have wished someone had beamed him up out of this movie, as the acerbic art critic and Hayward’s best pal. Kelly’s character is there to provide “insights” into Hayward’s artist.

DeForest Kelley as the art critic who critiques art AND Hayward's morals. But not her hair!

Where Love Has Gone is one of many '60s trash classic, the last gasp of old Hollywood promising vicarious thrills, while piously lecturing audiences over the story’s sinners. The movie makes a big point that Dani is no longer a virgin. Valerie’s sex drive is driven home, as Kelly’s character lets us know that her artistic juices only flow when… well you get the tawdry picture!

John Michael Hayes borrows a bit from BUtterfield 8, with viewers first seeing Valerie waking up after a rough night, as if from an erotic dream, then facing reality and reaching for a cig. Valerie’s last scene has Susie speeding through San Fran to her censor-satisfying suicide.

"No, this isn't BUtterfield 8!' Note the ciggies at the bedside...they taste just like candy!

Somehow, the dopey opening title song got nominated for an Oscar. The lyrics are so ‘moon-June-spoon’ nonsensical that it would be perfect for Valley of the Dolls' Tony Polar. Instead, The Love Boat crooner Jack Jones does the honors. There is skillful and loving cinematography by Joseph MacDonald, with beauty shots of San Francisco as well of the diversely-aged female stars.

Sparks fly whenever Susan Hayward is around.

For camp lovers, there’s hooty dialogue, big hair, heavy eye makeup, and tacky décor. Par for the ‘60s course, just about everyone onscreen is constantly pouring a drink or lighting a smoke! Watching Susie the artist, with a cig hanging out of her mouth, is a sight to behold. And Mike Connors matches her cig for cig. Amazingly, legendary smoker Bette doesn’t light up once. I guess that’s dedication to her craft, playing the self-righteous rich hag. I’ll let you decide whether Where Love Has Gone is smokin’ hot or just blowin’ smoke!

You just know that somebody is gonna trash Bette Davis' portrait by the end of the movie.
I bet Susan Hayward didn't have to ask what her motivation was here!

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

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

The Carpetbaggers 1964

This is about as close to swingin' as 'The Carpetbaggers' gets!

Harold Robbins’ The Carpetbaggers was a “bad” book that was made into “dirty” movie. Like Jacqueline Susann’s Valley of the Dolls’ and its movie version, I always wondered as a kid how much of the “good parts” got cut when they were shown on TV.

Today, I can say there aren’t any truly “good parts” to either movie! The Carpetbaggers is all 1964 T & A tease, there’s no bad language, and the one “nude” scene filmed with Carroll Baker never made to the screen.

One of the few times George Peppard cracks a smile as ruthless tycoon Jonas Cord.

The Carpetbaggers is just a soft core cartoon of the life of Howard Hughes, the rich kid who ran with the ball—making airplanes, movies, and business deals. Hughes was famous for the women in his life, though what actually went on behind doors has been questioned over the last few decades. In real life, even the young Hughes was shy and eccentric, which made women want to mother him. However, in The Carpetbaggers, Jonas Cord is a cool, cruel stud who is catnip to the ladies and a ballsy business man and innovator. He works hard, plays hard, and drinks hard. In short, Jonas Cord is a cartoon daydream of what every man dreamed to live like back in the early 1960s. Except that this movie takes place during the ‘20s & ‘30s.

The Carpetbaggers’ plot and dialogue are cartoonish. The women always seem to be in negligees or nude under furs, the men are hard-drinking and dirty-dealing, and it all feels more like Hugh Hefner than Howard Hughes. John Michael Hayes, who started off screenwriting for Hitchcock, later became the go-to guy to “clean up” all those “dirty” books like BUtterfield 8 and that other Robbins epic, Where Love Has Gone.

Nevada Smith and Rina Marlowe goin' Hollywood in 'The Carpetbaggers.'

The Carpetbaggers abounds with amusing moments, such as the pompous opening narration that sounds more suited to a biblical epic, which aptly describes Jonas Cord, Jr. as “fabulous and fictional!”

Or the early scene that establishes Jonas’ source of pain, where he enters the room of his long-lost twin brother, who apparently went insane. His father had the other brother banished to an institution. When Jonas opens the long-sealed off room, a cloud of dust emanates that resembles a small atomic bomb going off.

To give you an idea how phony this movie is, there’s the scene where Jonas Cord reacts to the death of stepmother/sex bomb Rina Marlowe by going on a bender. He wakes up in a whorehouse a week later, worse for wear. Peppard hilariously sports shiny grey greasepaint that’s supposed to be unshaven stubble—he looks like a weary clown.

George Peppard, as Jonas, with then real-life wife Elizabeth Ashley, as long-suffering Mrs. Cord.

 Adding to the artificiality of all this is that except for the opening aerial scene, the entire movie seems to have been filmed on Paramount’s sets or back lot, and looks it.

Edith Head's hybrid creations—the costumes have just barely enough period detail to depict the ‘20s and ‘30s era, but veer toward ‘60s style—add to the unreality. This isn’t Head’s fault: Edith once spoke about getting berated by producer Hal Wallis, for trying to sneak period details into her costumes for 1965’s The Sons of Katie Elder. Authenticity was not the order of the day for ‘60s period movies.

The one true highlight of The Carpetbaggers is the swaggering Elmer Bernstein score, especially over the opening credits. Bernstein rocks, as always.

George Peppard gives a committed if one-dimensional performance as Jonas Cord, Jr. The blonde actor with the piercing blue eyes was a bit like Paul Newman, but without his sculpted face and abs, much less his empathic qualities. While Peppard played similar cynical roles as Paul, George’s sneering cads were closer to Laurence Harvey than Paul Newman. Peppard, a heavy drinker, already looks soft here. And the scenes of 35-year-old George as a college-age daredevil are a bit much.

'The Carpetbaggers' was Alan Ladd's last film, who died at 50, a decade after his greatest role as 'Shane.'

Alan Ladd, in his last performance as Nevada Smith, is a bit like watching Clark Gable in The Misfits, a welcome yet sad sight. Like other older icons playing guest starring roles in the ‘60s, Ladd is the most interesting and authentic thing about The Carpetbaggers. Laconic and weary, Ladd is the observer of the action, and is fascinating to watch. After the climactic brawl between Jonas and his mentor, Cord asks Nevada what he can do to make amends. Before walking out, Ladd, in a nod to Gable’s Rhett Butler, replies, “Junior, I haven’t the faintest idea.”  Sadly, Alan Ladd died shortly after making the film, from a mix of alcohol and sleeping pills.

Carroll Baker as Rina isn't guessing Ladd's Nevada Smith's weight, but his age! And guesses wrong.

However, the love scene that brings Nevada Smith and Rina Marlowe together—Alan Ladd and Carroll Baker—is cringe-worthy. When Rina asks how old Nevada is, Smith says 43. Ladd was only 50, but after years of cigarettes, booze, and pills, he frankly looks closer to 60. Even more eye-rolling is when Baker replies that he looks 30, as Ladd tries to button up his shirt, her pawing his chest, with a clear side view of his jowls.

Capping this ludicrous scene is when Nevada asks Rina how old she is. Baker purrs that she’s 20—and Ladd replies that she looks 30! Baker had been kicking around Hollywood nearly a decade when it was decided to give her a Marilyn Monroe-type sex symbol build up at age 33.

After a decade as a "serious" method actor, Carroll Baker got the sex symbol build up at 33.

This came courtesy of Carroll’s studio, Paramount, and producer Joseph E. Levine. Other actresses claimed they were offered the role of Rina Marlowe aka Jean Harlow, including Joan Collins and Angie Dickinson. No knock on Baker, but after starting off in Hollywood as an imported Actors Studio “serious” actress—a decade later she was getting groomed as a sex goddess? This seems a bit ass backward—which is how it came to pass, as Baker bumbled through later sexy roles Sylvia and most notoriously, Harlow. I recall acerbic critic Judith Crist saying that The Carpetbaggers’ Carroll Baker had “all the sex appeal of a whole wheat muffin.”

Carroll was no cat on a hot tin roof: "Junior! Junior! Junior!"

In this type of role, Carroll Baker’s style always came across like Elizabeth Taylor-Lite. After a failed attempt at seducing Jonas Cord, Jr., following the death of his father, Baker shrieks after him, “Junior! Junior! Junior!” Carroll sounds puny and petulant, lacking the verve in which Taylor put over the equally junky BUtterfield 8.

40-year-old Martha Hyer's Jennie Denton as the young successor to Baker's late Rina Marlowe.

The studio star system was pretty much over at this point and Hollywood had many sexy young starlets all dolled up and nowhere to go. So, why was 40-ish Martha Hyer cast as a Jane Russell kind of starlet with a Joan Crawford kind of past? Russell was tapped by Hughes at 19 as his next sex symbol. Hyer benefited as the fiancée, later wife, of super producer Hal Wallis, whose films were released through Paramount. One of the most synthetic of Hollywood's ‘50s blondes, Hyer was neither sexy enough to suggest Monroe, nor classy enough to suggest Grace Kelly. Except for Martha's plusher curves, Baker and Hyer are interchangeable, bleached blonde ‘60s Playboy bunnies, playing dress up as ‘30s starlets. Baker became more interesting later, as a character actress; Hyer didn't, and eventually retired.

Elizabeth Ashley has always grated on my nerves, especially as she grew older and hammier, in the Kathleen Turner self-aggrandizing mode. But here, Ashley is young and gamely appealing, and about the only person resembling a human being among the younger cast.

Robert Cummings oozes more camp than sleaze as the agent negotiating with Martha Hyer.

Robert Cummings is laughable as sleazy, wolfish agent Daniel Pierce. I don’t know what Bob’s deal was off-camera, but on-camera, he comes across as such a flamer that the only pants that he would be believable trying to get into are Jonas Cord’s!

There’s a great supporting cast, but they’re stuck in stock roles: Lew Ayres as the long-suffering family lawyer; ‘40s femme fatale Audrey Totter has one scene as the hooker with a heart of gold; Leif Ericson appears in the opening, as the overbearing Jonas Cord, Sr.; and Martin Balsam as the crass studio head.

The colorful cast of The Carpetbaggers.

Like Valley of the Dolls, The Carpetbaggers got terrible reviews but made a fortune, from the public flocking to see if the film version was as dirty as the book. Today, The Carpetbaggers is just a mildly entertaining cartoon of a movie that milks every cliché about Hollywood. Enjoy!

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

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