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Hollywood Actors

Collection of Classic Hollywood Actors

Laraine Day
Laraine Day
Laraine Day
Laraine Day
Laraine Day
Laraine Day
Laraine Day

Obituary from the Independent Newspaper in the UK.

A reliable leading lady of Forties cinema, the fresh-faced and demure Laraine Day acted opposite such stars as Cary Grant and Robert Mitchum, and starred in the fine Hitchcock thriller Foreign Correspondent (1940), but she was most identified with the role of Nurse Mary Lamont, the hero’s sweetheart in seven of the popular Dr Kildare films. When her character was killed off, it created a furore similar to that aroused today by such drastic departures in the most popular television soap operas.

But she could also portray hidden anguish, such as her destructive psychotic in the disturbing film noir The Locket (1946). Though a contract player at MGM for nearly a decade, she was taken for granted by her studio – one executive memorably described her as “attractively ordinary” – and found her best roles when on loan-out to other studios.

Christened La Raine Johnson, she and her twin brother Lamar were born in Roosevelt, Utah, to a prominent Mormon family, in 1917. Her great-grandfather Charles C. Rich had been one of the pioneers who crossed the plains to establish the Mormon church. Laraine was later to reveal that she never smoked, and she never drank alcohol, tea or coffee. Her father was a grain dealer and government interpreter for the Ute Indian tribe.

When she was six, her family moved to Long Beach, California, where she later trained at the Long Beach Players’ Guild under Elias Day (whose surname she later took) along with another aspiring actor, Robert Mitchum. Spotted by a talent scout, she was given a minor role, billed as Lorraine Hayes, in the crime drama Tough to Handle (1937), starring Frankie Darro, followed by several B westerns plus a small role (four lines) in a soda-fountain scene in King Vidor’s Stella Dallas (1937).

After briefly renaming herself Laraine Johnson for two westerns with George O’Brien, she was signed by MGM, took the name Laraine Day, and was given small roles in Sergeant Madden (1939), starring Wallace Beery, and I Take This Woman (1939), the Spencer Tracy-Hedy Lamarr romantic drama that had such a convoluted history (four directors and endless alterations) that it was joked that it should have been called I Re-Take This Woman. Day later said that the studio head, Louis B. Mayer, wanted another contract player, Lana Turner, for the role, and that his resentment affected her career. “MGM never really gave me a break. They loaned me out for leading roles, but cast me in programme pictures.”

Calling Dr Kildare (1939), in which she played Mary Lamont, a nurse who becomes involved in a murder case with Dr Kildare (Lew Ayres), was the second of the studio’s series featuring the young doctor and his gruff mentor Dr Gillespie (Lionel Barrymore), and Day remained as Kildare’s love interest for six more films until, in Dr Kildare’s Wedding Day (1941), Mary was fatally struck by a truck on the day she was to wed the doctor.

Other MGM films included Tarzan Finds a Son (1939), in which a baby survives a plane crash that kills his mother (Day) and is discovered by Tarzan, and And One Was Beautiful (1940), in which she was one of two sisters in love with the same man. She had better roles on loan-out in Charles Vidor’s My Son, My Son (1940) and in her greatest film, Alfred Hitchcock’s tale of espionage and murder Foreign Correspondent.

Remembered for such set pieces as the assassination midst a sea of umbrellas, the fight in a windmill and a frighteningly effective plane crash into the ocean, the film featured Day as a woman who helps a reporter, Joel McCrea, uncover a spy ring, not knowing that it is led by her father. “Hitchcock was a character,” she recalled.

In one particularly scary scene I had to sneak down a dark corridor. When I got to the end there was Mr Hitchcock, sticking out his tongue and flapping his hands in the back of his ears. I didn’t dare laugh, because the cameras were turning. But he certainly eliminated any tension I felt.

At MGM, she was the wise-cracking pal of a newspaperman, Edward G. Robinson, in Unholy Partners (1941) then was awarded top billing as a show girl accused of murder in The Trial of Mary Dugan (1941), a remake of a 1929 Norma Shearer vehicle, but censorship restrictions diluted the story’s power and it paled beside the original. She was oddly cast as the wife of Herbert Marshall, who was noticeably many years her senior, in the Shirley Temple vehicle Kathleen (1941), but effectively played a woman who agrees to adopt a war orphan (Margaret O’Brien) in the popular drama Journey for Margaret (1942).

A Yank on the Burma Road and Fingers at the Window (both 1942) preceded two prestigious loan-outs, firstly to RKO for Mr Lucky (1943), in which she reforms a playboy gambler, Cary Grant, who plans to appropriate money she has raised for the war effort. “Cary would arrive on the set and everybody’s morale immediately lifted,” she said.

The crew were crazy about him and so was I. But, curiously, I never felt the male-female chemistry that you sometimes experience on a set. I could have been talking to my best girl-friend.

Day than went to Paramount for Cecil B. DeMille’s The Story of Dr Wassell (1944), starring Gary Cooper as the heroic real-life physician.

Gary turned out to be the surprise of my young life. He was so convincing with his stuttering, stammering awkward little boy manners. When the action called for Dr Wassell to kiss me, I got all set for a bashful boy kiss. Well, it was like holding a hand grenade and not being able to get rid of it! I was left breathless.

At MGM, Day was surprisingly effective as a tough, by-the-book WAC officer who conflicts with a former playgirl Lana Turner in Keep Your Powder Dry (1945). “I didn’t want to do it, but they said if I did it they would give me Undercurrent with Robert Taylor,” she said. “Then they gave Undercurrent to Katharine Hepburn, so I left MGM.”

Day’s next film was to be her personal favourite, John Brahm’s moody, haunting melodrama The Locket (1946), which also featured her old friend Robert Mitchum.

My character was the greatest challenge I ever had – a destructive young woman who’s a kleptomaniac. The form of the film – flashbacks within flashbacks within flashbacks – was criticised by some reviewers of the time as too confusing. Today, though, its style is highly regarded by film historians. . . Many movie fans seem to remember me best from the Dr Kildare series but, first and foremost, I remember The Locket.

Day was leading lady to John Wayne in the sprawling drama Tycoon (1947), and starred opposite Kirk Douglas in My Dear Secretary (1948), but after I Married a Communist (1949, called The Woman on Pier 13 in the UK), she virtually retired, returning to the screen when John Wayne, producer and star of William Wellman’s hit suspense movie The High and the Mighty (1954), asked her to play an unhappily married woman who is contemplating divorce but reconciles with her husband (John Howard) when the aeroplane on which they are travelling seems headed for disaster. Though Day was competent, she was overshadowed by the Oscar-nominated performances of Claire Trevor and Jan Sterling.

Day’s second marriage, in 1947, was to Leo Durocher, manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers and later of the New York Giants. She took such an active interest in her volatile husband’s career that she became known as “The First Lady of Baseball”, hosting a radio sports programme and in 1953 writing a book, Day with the Giants.

In 1971 she wrote another book, The America We Love, and she devoted much of her time in later years to the Mormon church. Day’s third husband was a television producer, and she continued to act occasionally on television, her last appearance being a Murder, She Wrote episode in 1986.

Tom Vallance

Bobby Sherman
Bobby Sherman
Bobby Sherman
 

Bobby Sherman was born in 1943 in Santa Monica, California.   He starred in the TV series “Here Comes the Bride” in 1968 and 1969 and then “Getting Together” in 1971 and 1972.   He had a number of Top Ten Hits including “Julie, Do You Love Me”.

IMDB entry:

Bobby started in the hit television program Here Come the Brides (1968) from 1969-71. He also performed in an episode of The Partridge Family (1970) – The Partridge Family: A Knight in Shining Armor (1971)

    • which was used as a pilot for his spin-off series

Getting Together (1971). In the ’80s, he was a regular on the short-lived Sanchez of Bel Air(1986).

Bobby was promoted to Captain on the Los Angeles Police Department, where he taught CPR and life saving techniques to incoming academy recruits. For a few years, he was also one of the members of the Teen Idol Tour, which also included Peter NooneDavy Jonesand, then later, Micky Dolenz replacing Jones. Bobby is the father of two grown sons, both of them following their famous father into the music industry.

– IMDb Mini Biography By: Chris Lawenstein

Bobby Sherman
Bobby Sherman
Collin Wilcox

Collin Wilcox was born in 1935 in Ohio.   She was a staple guest star of the major U.S. TV series of the 1960’s and 70’s. including “The Twilight Zone” and “The Alfred Hitchcock Hour” among many others.   On film, her best remembered performance is from 1962 in “To Kill A Mockingbird”  with Gregory Peck.   She died in 2009.

Interview with Collin Wilcox can be read here.

Obituary on “Boothill” website :

Collin Wilcox, who portrayed a young white woman who falsely accuses a black man of rape in ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ and went on to appear in numerous TV shows and films like ‘Jaws 2,’ died at her home in North Carolina last week. She was 74. Her husband, Scott Paxton, said the actress died on Oct. 14 of brain cancer, the New York Times reports.

As the character Mayella Violet Ewell, who accused Brock Peters’ character of rape, she delivers a court speech that stands out as one of the most memorable scenes in ‘Mockingbird.’ While being cross-examined by Gregory Peck’s Atticus Finch, she tearfully responds:

“I got something to say, and then I ain’t gonna say no more. He took advantage of me! And if you fine, fancy, damn … ain’t gonna do nothin’ about it, then you’re just a bunch a’ lousy yella stinkin’ cowards … the … the whole bunch of ya. And your fancy airs don’t come to nothin’. Your manners and your “Miss Mayella,” it don’t come to nothin’ Mr. Finch!”
‘Mockingbird’ was her major-film debut and she later appeared on TV show such as ‘The Twilight Zone,’ ‘The Untouchables’ and ‘Gunsmoke.’

She appeared in several more films, including ‘Catch-22’ and the ‘Jaws’ sequel, before moving back to her native North Carolina where she and her husband founded a children’s arts center.

In addition to her husband, Paxton is survived by her children, Kimberley and Michael.

New York Times obituary in 2009.

By Margalit Fox

  • Oct. 21, 2009

Collin Wilcox, a ubiquitous actress whose face was familiar to television viewers in the 1960s and afterward for her guest appearances on shows like “The Untouchables,” “The Twilight Zone,” “The Defenders” and “Gunsmoke,” died on Oct. 14 at her home in Highlands, N.C. She was 74.

The cause was brain cancer, her husband, Scott Paxton, said.

A fresh-faced Southerner, Ms. Wilcox was also billed over the years as Collin Wilcox-Horne and Collin Wilcox-Paxton. Besides working actively in television, she appeared in Hollywood films and several Broadway plays.

Her best-known film role was as Mayella Ewell, the young white woman who falsely accuses a black man (played by Brock Peters) of rape in “To Kill a Mockingbird,” the 1962 adaptation of Harper Lee’s novel. Ms. Wilcox’s tearful testimony on the witness stand as Gregory Peck’s Atticus Finch cross-examines her is widely considered one of the movie’s most memorable scenes.

Ms. Wilcox made her Broadway debut in 1958 in “The Day the Money Stopped,” a drama by Maxwell Anderson and Brendan Gill. Though the play closed after four performances, she won the Clarence Derwent Award from the Actors’ Equity Association as the year’s most promising female performer.

Collin Wilcox was born on Feb. 4, 1935, in Cincinnati and moved with her family to Highlands as a baby. In the late 1930s her parents helped found a local theater company, the Highlands Community Theater, where she got her first stage experience.

Ms. Wilcox studied at the University of Tennessee, what was then the Goodman School of Drama in Chicago and the Actors Studio in New York. In Chicago she performed with the Compass Players, an improvisational group that was a forerunner of the Second City theater troupe.

On television Ms. Wilcox came to wide attention in 1958, when she starred in a live television production of “The Member of the Wedding.” (An adaptation of Carson McCullers’s novel, it was directed by Robert Mulligan, who later directed “To Kill a Mockingbird.”) To land the role of Frankie, the story’s preadolescent heroine, Ms. Wilcox, then in her early 20s, appeared at the audition with her hair shorn, her breasts bound with dishtowels and her face dotted with “freckles” of iodine.

One of her television performances that continues to be seen today in reruns was in a 1964 episode of “The Twilight Zone,” titled “Number 12 Looks Just Like You.” Ms. Wilcox played a plain-looking 19-year-old woman in a society of the future who resists a ritual “transformation” procedure to make her physically beautiful (she can choose from among standard models) and give her a longer life. 

Ms. Wilcox’s first marriage, to Walter Beakel, ended in divorce, as did her second, to Geoffrey Horne. She is survived by her third husband, Mr. Paxton, whom she married in 1979; three children, Kimberly Horne, Michael G. Paxton and William Horne; and three grandchildren.

Her other television appearances include guest roles on “Dr. Kildare,” “The Fugitive,” “Ironside,” “The Waltons” and “Little House on the Prairie.”

Among Ms. Wilcox’s other films are “Catch-22” (1970), “Jaws 2” (1978), “Marie” (1985) and the TV movie “The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman,” broadcast on CBS in 1974

Jim Kelly
Jim Kelly
Jim Kelly

Jim Kelly was a great martial artist who made movies in the 1970’s.   He died in 2013 at the age of 67.   Here is his Guardian obituary.

The martial artist and actor Jim Kelly, best known for his nonchalant turn in the Bruce Lee film Enter the Dragon, has died at the age of 67.   Kelly was picked to star in the martial arts classic two years later. He plays the arrogant, insouciant Williams, who competes alongside Lee in a sinister competition organised by the mysterious Mr Han on a James Bond-style island. Kelly’s impressive afro, sideburns and good looks made him the perfect choice for a film shot at the height of blaxploitation.

Kelly has since become a huge cult figure, though his acting career never quite took off despite a good deal of success in similar 1970s fare. Appearances in films such as Black Belt Jones, Three the Hard Way (both 1974) and Black Samurai usually played on the novelty of an African American who practices martial arts. He was little seen on the big screen after 1982’s late-era blaxploitation martial arts effort One Down, Two to Go, and later pursued a career in tennis.

“It was one of the best experiences in my life,” Kelly told salon.com in 2010 when asked whether he enjoyed his time on Enter the Dragon. “Bruce was just incredible, absolutely fantastic. I learned so much from working with him. I probably enjoyed working with Bruce more than anyone else I’d ever worked with in movies because we were both martial artists. And he was a great, great martial artist. It was very good.”

In a separate interview with the LA Times the same year, Kelly said he had “never left the movie business”, adding: “It’s just that after a certain point, I didn’t get the type of projects that I wanted to do. I still get at least three scripts per year, but most of them don’t put forth a positive image. There’s nothing I really want to do, so I don’t do it. If it happens, it happens, but if not, I’m happy with what I’ve accomplished.”

Kelly died on Saturday at his home in San Diego and had been suffering from cancer, according to his ex-wife Marilyn Dishman, who broke the news on Facebook. “Yesterday, June 29, 2013, James Milton Kelly, better known as Jim Kelly, the karate expert, actor, my first husband and Sabrena Kelly-Lewis’s biological father died,” she wrote in a note.

Kelly’s best-remembered line in Enter the Dragon is probably the one where he is challenged by Shih Kien’s villainous Han to prepare himself for inevitable defeat. “I don’t waste my time with it,” sneers Williams. “When it comes I won’t even notice … I’ll be too busy looking good.

The Guardian obituary can be access on-line here.

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Terry Thomas
Terry-Thomas
Terry-Thomas

Terry Thomas was one of Britain’s best loved comedians who went on to have a major Hollywood career in the 1960’s. He was born in 1911 in London and after World War Two became popular on BBC Radio. Sadly his later life was marred by ill health and poverty and he died in London

TCM overview:

Gap-toothed comic player who used his expressive eyes, mobile eyebrows and Royal Guards’ mustache to create a variety of asinine British characters, usually in supporting roles, occasionally in leads. His antic personae ranged from the comically malevolent to the naive in “I’m All Right, Jack” (1959), “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World” (1963) and, perhaps his signature role, Sir Percival War-Armitage in “Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines” (1965

Interesting article on the beloved Terry-Thomas in the Mail On-Line, can be accessed here.

Bonnie Bedelia
Bonnie Bedelia
Bonnie Bedelia

Bonnie Bedelia was born in 1948 in New York City.   By the age of twenty, she was being featured in such films as “The Gypsy Moths” with Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr and “They Shoot Horse’s Don’t They” as the dancing partner of Bruce Dern.  She is best remebered as the wife of Bruce Willis in “Die Hard”.

Gary Brumburgh’s entry:

he native New Yorker was born Bonnie Bedelia Culkin on March 25, 1948, the daughter of Phillip Harley Culkin, a journalist, and Marian Ethel Wagner Culkin, a writer and editor. Trained in ballet, her parents guided all of the children at one time or another into acting (which included Christopher (Kit), Terry and Candace Culkin). Bonnie herself attended Quintano School for Young Professionals in New York at one point and Bonnie and Kit went on to appear on the local stage and TV. Brother Kit would later be known more for siring a handful of talented child actors and/or stars (Macaulay CulkinKieran Culkin, and the rest).

It was Bonnie who was first spotted among the other acting siblings by a talent scout who happened to catch her in a school production of “Tom Sawyer”, and encouraged her. She made her professional debut at age 9 in a 1957 North Jersey Playhouse production of “Dr. Praetorius” and then was handed a full scholarship to study at George Balanchine‘s New York City Ballet. But the acting bug had bitten and after dancing in only four productions (including playing the role of Clara in “The Nutcracker”), she decided to hang up her ballet slippers. She proceeded to study at both the HB Studio and Actors Studio in New York.

Bonnie nabbed a five-year role as young teen “Sandy Porter” in the New York-based daytime soap Love of Life (1951) starting in 1961. During that time, she took her first Broadway bow in “Isle of Children”, a show that lasted but a week in March of 1962. She was also a replacement in the established hit comedy “Enter Laughing”, a year later. After appearing in the stage play “The Playroom” in 1965, she earned strong reviews for her touching performance in “My Sweet Charlie”, for which she won the 1967 Theatre World Award for “promising new artist”. In it, she played a pregnant young Southern girl on the lam with a black lawyer. Patty Duke recreated the role a few years later on TV and captured an Emmy.

Films beckoned at this point and Bonnie made her debut lending topnotch support in The Gypsy Moths (1969) which reunited From Here to Eternity (1953) stars Burt Lancaster andDeborah Kerr. She earned even better marks in her next two films, one performance simply haunting and the other one hilarious. Once again playing pregnant and once again delivering a touching pathos, she played the dirt-poor marathon dancer who pitches songs for pennies and the almost-mother of Bruce Dern‘s child in the superb, award-winning, Depression-era drama They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? (1969). On the other end of the acting spectrum, she played the lovable bride-to-be in the side-splitting comedy classic Lovers and Other Strangers (1970).

By this time, Bonnie had started concentrating on family values. She married scriptwriterKen Luber on April 24, 1969, and bore him a son, Yuri, the following year. The time off to focus on motherhood (she had second son, Jonah Luber, in 1976) proved detrimental to her rising star. The remaining decade was uneventful at best, despite some fine showings in a splattering of TV-movies. Her big comeback came again on the movie trail in the early 1980s when she absolutely nailed the role of race car driver Shirley Muldowney in Heart Like a Wheel (1983). She was surprisingly overlooked at Oscar time, however, despite the praise she received. Despite respected work in subsequent movies such as Violets Are Blue… (1986), The Prince of Pennsylvania (1988), Presumed Innocent(1990) and a running role as Bruce Willis‘s put-upon wife in Die Hard (1988) and its sequel, she found better and more frequent parts on TV. She found her niche in TV-movies with social themes and tugged at more hearts in Switched at Birth (1991), A Mother’s Right: The Elizabeth Morgan Story (1992), Any Mother’s Son (1997) and To Live Again (1998).

In a change of pace, Bonnie joined the ensemble cast of the low-budget cult comedySordid Lives (2000), as “Latrelle”, a homophobic woman dealing with her mother’s death, the imprisonment of her gay brother and her own son’s “coming out”. The movie has recently evolved into a TV series, which is scheduled for some time in 2008 and reunites her with original cast members Leslie Jordan and Olivia Newton-John.

-MDb Mini Biography By: Gary Brumburgh / gr-home@pacbell.net

Bonnie Bedelia
Bonnie Bedelia
Linda Christian
Linda Christian
Linda Christian
Edmund Purdom & Linda Christian
Linda Christian
Linda Christian
Linda Christian
Linda Christian

Ronald Bergan’s “Guardian” 2011 obituary:

The phrase “famous for being famous” could have been invented for Linda Christian, who has died aged 87. Her celebrity came from her marriages to the handsome film stars Tyrone Power and Edmund Purdom, and her liaisons with various wealthy playboys and bullfighters, rather than her somewhat limited acting ability.

Christian’s extravagant, cosmopolitan lifestyle derived from her stunning beauty – she was dubbed “The Anatomic Bomb” by Life magazine – and her ability to speak fluent French, German, Dutch, Spanish, Italian and English. She was born Blanca Rosa Welter in Tampico, Mexico, the daughter of a Dutch executive at Shell, and his Mexican-born wife of Spanish, German and French descent. As the family moved around a great deal, living in South America, Europe, the Middle East and Africa, she gained a taste for globetrotting.

Christian’s early ambition was to become a doctor, but after winning a beauty contest and meeting Errol Flynn in Acapulco, she was persuaded to try her luck in films in the US. She was soon cast as a Goldwyn Girl in the actor Danny Kaye’s first feature film, Up in Arms (1944), and as a cigarette girl in Club Havana (1945), directed by Edgar G Ulmer. Then, with her name changed to Linda Christian, she signed a contract with MGM, which gave her a small decorative role in the musical Holiday in Mexico (1946), shot in Hollywood, and an exotic one in Green Dolphin Street (1947), as Lana Turner’s Maori maid.

At the time, Turner was having an affair with Power. Rumour has it that Christian overheard Turner say when Power was going to be in Rome. Christian decided to fly to Rome, stay at the same hotel and wangle a meeting with the dashing star. A romance led to Christian and Power getting married in January 1949 at a church in Rome while an estimated 8,000 screaming fans lined the street outside.

 

Prior to the marriage, the only substantial role MGM had given Christian was as an island girl rescued by Tarzan from the clutches of an evil high priest in Tarzan and the Mermaids (1948), the 12th and final time Johnny Weissmuller played the Ape Man. Christian, wearing a skimpy two-piece costume, is referred to as a mermaid because she swims a lot.

After marrying Power, Christian started to get a few leading roles in B-pictures such as Slaves of Babylon (1953), co-starring Richard Conte. More gratifying was her sitting for a portrait by the great Mexican artist Diego Rivera. The painting, reproduced on the cover of her autobiography, Linda (1962), and for which she was once offered $2m, is now in a private collection.

In 1954, Christian played Valerie Mathis, James Bond‘s former lover now working for the French secret service, in a CBS television version of Ian Fleming’s Casino Royale, therefore allowing her to lay claim to being the first Bond girl. At this time, the movie fan magazines were full of photos of Power and Christian as a blissfully married couple with two daughters, while the gossip columns intimated that both husband and wife had strayed. In 1954, Christian played Purdom’s snooty fiancee in the MGM musical Athena. Christian had been at the same school as Purdom’s wife, the former ballerina Anita Phillips, and the Powers and the Purdoms became good friends, even going on holidays together. But soon sexual jealousy broke up the once cosy foursome. In 1956, Christian divorced Power, charging mental cruelty.

After the divorce, there was no shortage of millionaires to help keep Christian in the manner to which she was accustomed. Once she was called to testify at a Los Angeles court because she refused to return jewels given to her by the socialite Robert H Schlesinger, whose cheque for $100,000, as partial payment for the jewels, had bounced. Christian was also involved with the racing driver Alfonso de Portago, with whom she was photographed a short while before he died in a crash at the 1957 Mille Miglia car race, in which several spectators were also killed. That year, she and the Brazilian mining millionaire Francisco “Baby” Pignatari went on an around-the-world tour together. In 1962 she married Purdom. They divorced the following year.

Christian continued to appear in routine films such as The Devil’s Hand (1962), as a seductive high priestess of voodoo, opposite her real-life sister Ariadna Welter. In Francesco Rosi’s semi-documentary The Moment of Truth (1965), she played herself as an American in Barcelona who attracts a matador (the bullfighter Miguel Mateo Miguelín). During the filming, she fell for the bullfighter Luis Dominguín, the former lover of Ava Gardner.

In 1968, Christian retired to Rome. She returned to cinema almost 20 years later, at the age of 64, in a couple of dreadful Italian thrillers.

She is survived by her daughters, Taryn and Romina Power.

• Linda Christian (Blanca Rosa Welter), actor, born 13 November 1923; died 22 July 2011

The Guardian obituary for Linda Christian:

Danny Kaye
Danny Kaye
Danny Kaye

Although little remembered today, Danny kaye was one of the most popular movie stars of the 1940’s & 50’s. He was born in 1913 in Brooklyn, New York. His first major movie was “Up in Arms” in 1944. He has starred in such classics as “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty” with Virginia Mayo in 1947.”hans Christian Anderson” in 1952, the brilliant “The Court Jester” in 1956 with Glynis Johns and Angela Lansbury and “The Five Pennies”. He spent much of his later years as a goodwill Ambassador for UNICEF.   He died in 1987.

TCM profile:

An entertainer of prodigious gifts, Danny Kaye blended dance, popular song, classical music, tongue-twisting lyrics and mimicry into a personal style that was at once unique and irresistibly lovable. This exuberant redhead conquered practically every form of show business, ranging from vaudeville, nightclubs and radio to the Broadway stage, television and movies.

Born David Daniel Kaminski in Brooklyn in 1913 to Russian Jewish immigrants, Kaye dropped out of high school to work the “Borscht Circuit” in New York’s Catskill Mountains as a clowning busboy. After performing as part of a dance act and making some two-reel movie shorts, he made his Broadway debut in 1939 in The Straw Hat Revue. Two years later he created a sensation in Broadway’s Lady in the Dark, supporting Gertrude Lawrence and stopping the show nightly with a number called “Tchaikovsky” in which he rattled off the names of more than 50 Russian composers in 39 breathless seconds.

In 1940 Kaye had married Sylvia Fine, who began managing his career and helped create many of the routines, gags and specialty songs that cinched his stardom.

Kaye was signed for films by Samuel Goldwyn and made his feature-film debut in the starring role of Up in Arms (1944), playing a hypochondriac World War II soldier who ends up single-handedly capturing a platoon of Japanese soldiers and wooing songstress Dinah Shore. Two songs co-authored by Fine — “The Lobby Number” and “Melody in 4-F” — spotlight Kaye’s ability with tongue-twisting lyrics.

Goldwyn’s other film showcases for Kaye’s irrepressible personality include The Kid from Brooklyn (1946), a remake of the 1934 Harold Lloyd comedy in which Kaye plays a shy milkman who goes into boxing after accidentally knocking out a champion fighter; and The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (1947), with Kaye as James Thurber’s daydreaming would-be hero. Kaye’s last film for producer Goldwyn was the box-office smash Hans Christian Andersen (1952), a fictionalized biography of the great Danish storyteller with a tuneful score by Frank Loesser.

Another huge hit was Paramount’s Irving Berlin musical White Christmas (1954), starring Kaye and Bing Crosby as pals who rescue a failing inn by staging a big musical show. For MGM, Kaye made The Court Jester (1956), a rousing spoof of medieval swashbucklers in which he plays a royal babysitter who poses as a jester in order to help overthrow an evil pretender to the throne. The songs are by Fine and Sammy Cahn, and Kaye performs his justly famous “Pellet with the Poison” routine: “The pellet with the poison?s in the vessel with the pestle; the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true.” Kaye’s final film part was that of The Ragpicker in The Madwoman of Chaillot (1969), but he earned great notices for a dramatic role as a Holocaust survivor in the television movie Skokie (1981). Earlier he had enjoyed a great success with his own TV series,  which ran for four years beginning in 1963 and brought him an Emmy award.

Awarded an honorary Academy Award in 1954 and the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award in 1982, Kaye worked extensively with the United Nation’s Children’s Fund, raising millions in benefit concerts. He died of a heart attack in Los Angeles in 1987.

by Roger Fristoe

The above TCM profile can be accessed online here.

Shelley Winters
Shelley Winters
Shelley Winters

Shelley Winter’s obituary by Veronica Horwell from 2006 in “The Guardian”:

Two blondes paid the rent at 8573 Holloway Drive, Los Angeles, a block south of Sunset Boulevard, in 1951. Both were starlets on studio contracts, and they commiserated with each other over the bones in basque bodices, diets and other career impositions. On Saturday mornings, they played classical records and read the accompanying booklets about composers, and once they sat down to list the famous men they dreamed of fucking.

The younger, Marilyn Monroe, listed Albert Einstein and Arthur Miller among her hunks. The wiser woman, Shelley Winters, who has died of heart failure aged 83, stuck to movie studs. She lived to make most of them, and hang out with a couple of Oscars as well.

She was born Shirley Schrift in St Louis, officially in 1922 (though some sources still say 1920) and the family soon moved to Brooklyn. Her father was jailed for arson – and later cleared – when she was nine. On Wednesdays, she would slip into the Broadway theatres to catch the matinees, and as a teenager she competed with half of America for the part of Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With The Wind. Director George Cukor bought her a Coke and asked her about her acting ambitions, which were serious.

She worked in Woolworth’s – “I wasn’t pretty enough for the candy department so they put me to work selling hardware” – where she led the other girls in a strike for unrestricted access to toilets. They won, but Woollies would not re-employ her. “I’d have made a damn good union organiser,” she said years later. “Look at the facts. There are no more padlocks on the loos in Woolworth’s.”

She went to acting school, took the advice of her opera singer mother, Rose, and stumped round the borscht circuit; she was appearing in the musical Rosalinda on Broadway in the early 1940s when the president of Colombia Pictures, Harry Cohn, went backstage and said, “Listen kid, you think you could do the same thing in front of a camera?”

Her first screen appearance was in What a Woman! (1943). But it took “Shelley” (from her favourite poet) “Winters” (her mother’s maiden name plus a publicist’s “s”) seven years to “climb out of the studio wastebasket”. She did it by way of lowclass victimhood – as a waitress strangled by Ronald Colman in George Cukor’s A Double Life (1947), a gas station Myrtle run over by Gatsby’s car in The Great Gatsby (1949) and a factory girl drowned by the man who got her pregnant in A Place in the Sun (1951), her first Oscar nomination.

Her southern widow, in The Night of the Hunter (1955), was about as far as Winters could develop that persona: “she has a rich body” is the character’s introduction in the screenplay, although she ends up as a dead body, her hair drifting in the river. As Ian Cameron once wrote, Winters too easily played the female equivalent of Peter Lorre, her quivering pathos inviting martyrdom.

While playing an extra in The Big Knife (1955), she said, “Those lousy studios, they louse you up and then they call you lousy.” She seemed to be describing her relative movie non-progress: she had displayed the clavicles and the lips just fine, but her attitude was too visible.

With her press agent, she began to make herself over into “this personality, a dumb blonde with a body and a set of sayings”. She scripted her own wisecracks (“I did a film in England in the winter and it was so cold I almost got married”). Dylan Thomas had sent her letters, and she had sent him to a shrink who failed to cure the drink; on a visit, she “asked why he’d come to Hollywood, and, very solemnly, he said to touch a starlet’s tits. Ok, I said, but only one finger.” Her other literary buddy, Tennessee Williams, didn’t even peek.

But Winters was also a pro, who studied with Lee Strasberg at the Actors’ Studio, working towards the “ability to reveal myself, the willingness … you act with your scars … if you want the best, you have to fight for it”. In the year of The Night of the Hunter, she left for the Broadway stage, and did not return to cinema until 1959, when she came back a changed woman – her truer self.

“Overeaters anonymous, it’s my only religion,” she said of her expanded flesh. This emphasised her kept-woman-of-the-Hapsburg-empire appearance, although the calorie intake was all-American, her favourite meal being tuna on rye with a chocolate milk shake.

She won an Oscar for her first substantial role in this mother-matron-madam mode for The Diary of Ann Frank (1959), and made the embonpoint and dirty laugh work for her through the 1960s: a slut of a mum in Stanley Kubrick’s Lolita (1963); the racist mom in A Patch of Blue (1965, another best-supporting Academy award); the bordello boss Polly Adler in A House is not a Home (1964) – a variation on her whore-for-intellectuals in The Balcony (1963); a Tommy-gun-wielding Bloody Mama (1970); and a passenger in The Poseidon Adventure (1972). Only a few films utilised her ability to distance herself funnily – pulling the alarmed Alfie (1966), or unafraid of falling among Indians in The Scalphunters (1968) because “they’re only men”.

For all her lack of the camera-ready face of her friend Liz Taylor, Winters was desired. Maybe it was that rich body. Her under-age affair with a fellow thespian ended in pregnancy, an abortion and her refusal of a marriage offer because “you’re a bit-part actor and I’m a potential star”. There were three brief marriages: the first, in wartime, was to Paul Mayer, a US army air force captain; the others were to an Italian actor, Vittorio Gassman (with whom she had a daughter) from 1952 to 1954, and an Italian-American actor, Anthony Franciosa, from 1957 to 1960.

Winters published two volumes of autobiography, Shelley, Also Known as Shirley (1980) and Shelley II: The Middle of My Century (1989). In those brash works, she consumed much of the beefcake on that 1951 wish list. “The only way to keep warm in this apartment is to get into bed. My body generates a great deal of heat,” mumbled Marlon Brando. “Fuck me please and send a copy of your speech later,” she demanded of a prosy Burt Lancaster. She ended up in bed five times with William Holden after Christmas studio parties.

Winters thought masculine star attempts at style hilarious, and would say so, with her mink eased off the shoulder and a glass of fizz in hand. She once described how, during a private movie showing at Errol Flynn’s house, a bed slipped into the room, complete with small bar, icebox and the top sheet turned back, as the ceiling mirror rolled away to to reveal the heavens through a magnolia tree in flower. She was more a faux-leopard-skin couch gal herself.

In all, there were 150-odd films (“Have you seen them all, honey?” she inquired of a gushy interviewer), including an artistic production shot in Italy but never released as they lost the soundtrack, and a wicked scene in A Portrait of a Lady (1996), where she nearly upstaged John Gielgud on his “death-bed”. She was a success on Broadway in Minnie’s Boys (1970), playing the mother of the Marx Brothers, had variable reviews for her off-Broadway playwriting debut, One Night Stands of a Noisy Passenger (1970), and recurred as TV sitcom Roseanne Barr’s grandmother in kaftan and watch cap. Roseanne did look and sound as if she had inherited granmaw’s motormouth.

Towards the end, Winters lunched with her camp court almost daily in Los Angeles’s Silver Spoon Schwabs, complaining about the hernias those basques had caused and recalling Marilyn fondly. She transported a visiting journalist around town in her limo – “See,” she said, pointing to her gold star in the pavement, “I’m there with all the communists.”

“I could face respectability over 60,” she confided, secure among multiple chins, fur coats and Impressionist paintings: ” I think on-stage nudity is disgusting, shameful … But if I were 22 with a great body, it would be artistic, tasteful, patriotic and a progressive religious experience.” She is survived by Jerry DeFord, her companion since the early 1980s and her daughter.

· Shelley Winters (Shirley Schrift), actor, born August 18 1922; died January 14 2006

The above “Guardian” obituary can also be accessed online here.

Shelley Winters
Shelley Winters