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Hollywood Actors

Collection of Classic Hollywood Actors

Esther Williams
Esther Williams
Esther Williams

Esther Williams was one of the major MGM movie stars of the 1940’s and 50’s mainly associated with her swimming musicals.

Her Guardian obituary by Ronald Bergan :

Esther Williams, “Hollywood’s Mermaid”, who has died aged 91, swam her way through more than a dozen splashy MGM musicals in the 1940s and early 50s. While smiling at the camera, she was able to do a combination of crawl, breast and backstroke, and was forever blowing bubbles under water, seemingly having an inexhaustible supply of air.

Like the starlets Lana Turner, Kathryn Grayson and Donna Reed before her, she started out for MGM in a Hardy Family picture, Andy Hardy’s Double Life (1942) – though one that allowed her to swim with Mickey Rooney. After being billed 19th in A Guy Named Joe (1943), she shot to stardom in her third film, Bathing Beauty (1944).

It started out as an average Red Skelton vehicle, first called Mr Co-Ed, then Sing and Swim, but Esther’s superb figure and pretty features were heightened by Technicolor to such an extent that her part was built up and the title changed. A special 90-foot square, 20-foot deep pool was built at Stage 30 on the MGM lot, complete with hydraulic lifts, hidden air hoses and special camera cranes for overhead shots.

“No one had ever done a swimming movie before,” she explained, “so we just made it up as we went along. I ad-libbed all my own underwater movements.” Williams played a swimming instructor at a women’s college and the picture ended with a spectacular water-ballet set to the Blue Danube waltz, with alternate jets of water and flame bursting from the pool. Variety magazine said that William was “pulled to stardom by her swimsuit straps”.

The movie was a bigger hit than anyone had anticipated, and MGM spent the following decade hiring writers to invent scripts which allowed Esther to get wet. She would later remark: “My pictures were put together out of scraps they found in the producer’s wastebasket. All they ever did for me at MGM was to change my leading men and the water in the pool.” Actually her films were bubbly entertainments and the aquaballets (the most spectacular being staged by Busby Berkeley) were often breathtaking in their scope.

On An Island With You (1948) and Pagan Love Song (1950) were both set on South Sea islands, giving Williams ample opportunity to strip down to her stylish swim suits and take the plunge. She was a bathing suit designer in Neptune’s Daughter (1949), keen to demonstrate her creations herself, and is the last woman to give into the blandishments of a handsome polo player (Ricardo Montalban) who sings to her, Baby, It’s Cold Outside.

Most of the time in Dangerous When Wet (1953), co-starring her future husband Fernando Lamas, was taken up by her preparations to swim the English Channel. The best moment is a dream sequence in which Williams anticipates a crossing with the cartoon characters Tom and Jerry, while trying to avoid an octopus in a beret who gropes her with six extra hands.

However, she did not give in to groping very easily on screen: “My movies made it clear it’s all right to be strong and feminine at the same time,” she claimed.

In Fiesta (1947), Williams struck a blow for senoritas’ lib by proving herself the equal of any male matador, while in Take Me Out To The Ball Game (in Britain, Everyone’s Cheering, 1949), she played the owner-manager of a baseball team, whose initial interest in Gene Kelly lies in his ability to play ball. Inevitably, she thaws (after a swim) and falls for his rather blatant charms.

Williams portrayed Annette Kellerman, the Australian swimming champion who introduced the world to the one-piece bathing suit – as opposed to a combination of dress and pantaloons – in Million Dollar Mermaid (1952). The high spot of the film was Berkeley’s elaborately staged aquatic production number in which Esther rises like Aphrodite from the water surrounded by nymphs, and dives from a tremendous height into the centre of a kaleidoscopic pattern formed by swimmers. Although Williams did all her own swimming, she often had a stand-in for the more dangerous stunts.

She made an even bigger splash in the water-skiing ballet that ends Easy To Love (1953), one of Berkeley’s last and most spectacular sequences. Filmed on location at Cypress Gardens, Florida, it has over 30 waterskiers towed in arrowhead formation with Williams at the tip. They jump and slalom around the beautiful amphibian before she seizes a trapeze dangled from a helicopter, rises to the height of 500 feet, and dives into the pleasure-garden lagoon.

After the expensive belly-flop of Jupiter’s Darling (1955), a Roman romp in which Esther as Amytis prevents Hannibal (Howard Keel) from sacking Rome, MGM, for whom she had grossed over $80m, sacked her without even a goodbye or a thank you.

Born in Los Angeles, Esther was the fifth and last child of a pyschologist mother, Bula, and a signwriter father, Lou. She grew up swimming in local pools and surfing. By 16, she was a member of the Los Angeles Athletic Club swimming team and had won three national championships in both the breaststroke and freestyle. A year later, she was on the 1940 US Olympic team headed for Tokyo when the second world war intervened, cancelling the Games along with her hopes for international fame.

However, the showman Billy Rose noticed a photo of her, and starred her as Aquabelle opposite the Olympian and screen Tarzan Johnny Weissmuller as Aquadonis in his San Francisco Aquacade review. MGM scouts saw her in the show, and signed her to a contract.

Once her time at MGM had come to a close, the former prima ballerina of the water then tried her hand at dramatic roles at Universal, including The Unguarded Moment (1956) as a schoolteacher sexually attacked by one of her pupils. Her final movie appearance came in Fuente Magica (The Magic Fountain, 1963) directed by Lamas, whom she married in 1969.

Her first marriage, in 1940, had been to Leonard Kovner, and her second, in 1945, to the radio singer Ben Gage. Both ended in divorce. She and Gage had three children, whom she taught to swim soon after birth.

In September 1976, she sued MGM for $1m, claiming they had no legal right to utilise sequences from her films in That’s Entertainment (1974) without consulting her about it or offering to share profits. The matter was settled out of court.

Lamas died in 1982, and six years later Williams married a professor of French literature, Edward Bell. Together they made profitable businesses of Esther Williams Swimming Pools and the Esther Williams Collection, one of America’s most recognised swimwear brands.

Though denied an Olympic appearance herself, Williams helped to inspire the development of synchronised swimming, an Oympic discipline since 1984. She was at those Games, in Los Angeles, to commentate on the event for television. Her rather fanciful autobiography, inevitably titled The Million Dollar Mermaid, appeared in 1999.

She is survived by Edward, a daughter, Susan, and a son, Benjamin.

• Esther Jane Williams, swimmer and actor, born 8 August 1921; died 6 June 2013

Her Guardian obituary can be accessed on-line here.

Esther Williams
Esther Williams
Elizabeth Franz

Elizabeth Franz

Elizabeth Franz

Elizabeth Franz Picture

IMDB entry:

Elizabeth Franz was born on June 18, 1941 in Akron, Ohio, USA as Elizabeth Frankovich. She is an actress, known for Another World (1964), Christmas with the Kranks (2004) andSabrina (1995). She was previously married to Edward Binns.

Won Broadway’s 1999 Tony Award as Best Actress (Featured Role – Play) for a revival ofArthur Miller‘s “Death of a Salesman.” Was also nominated two other times in the same category: in 1983 for “Brighton Beach Memoirs” and in 2002 for a revival of “Morning’s at Seven.”Plaintive, reedy-framed, award-winning stage actress (“Sister Mary Ignatius Explains It All for You” – Obie, 1980) who took her towering, Tony-winning portrayal of Linda Loman in “Death of a Salesman” to TV in 2000 and earned an Emmy nomination.   Raised in Akron, Ohio, she saw the Loretta Young film The Bishop’s Wife (1947) when she was young and decided then to become an actress.   Worked as a secretary after graduating from high school in order to earn enough money to enroll in the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in NYC.   Husband Edward Binns was 25 years her senior. They married in 1983. He died seven years later.   She was awarded the 1999 Joseph Jefferson Award for Actress in a Supporting Role in a Play for “Death of a Salesman” at the Goodman Theatre in Chicago, Illinois.   National Theatre, London, making her UK stage debut in a major revival of “Buried Child” by Sam Shepard. [September 2004]  On Broadway in “Mornings at Seven”

Trini Lopez

Trini Lopez

Trini Lopez

IMDB entry:

Trini Lopez is a American singer and actor who had 16 Top 40 songs on the charts from 1963 through 1968. He was born Trinidad López III in the Little Mexico neighborhood Dallas, Texas on May 15, 1937. He started performing with his own band when he was 15 years old and caught the eye of rock and roll legend Buddy Holly, who recommended him to a music producer who signed Lopez and his band, “The Big Beats”, to Columbia Records.

Lopez eventually quit “The Big Beats” to go solo, but none of the singles he cut made the charts. He moved to Los Angeles to audition as a vocalist for Holly’s old band “The Crickets”, but didn’t get the job. Performing in night clubs, he was discovered by Frank Sinatra, who signed Lopez to his label, Reprise Records.

His cover of “If I Had a Hammer” from his first album, which was released in 1963, made it to #3 on the charts, eventually earning a gold disc with sales exceeding one million copies. His other big hits were “Lemon Tree” and “I’m Comin’ Home, Cindy”, both of which made it to #2 on the Easy Listening chart, and “Michael”, “Gonna Get Along Without Ya Now” and “The Bramble Bush”, which made it to $7, #6 and #4, respectively.

Trini Lopez was inducted into the International Latin Music Hall of Fame in 2003.

– IMDb Mini Biography By: Jon C. Hopwood

Pamela Duncan

Pamela Duncan

Pamela Duncan

“The Independent” obituary:

The 1957 B-movie Attack of the Crab Monsters was promoted with the tagline “From the depths of the sea . . . a tidal wave of terror!” Directed and produced by Roger Corman, it grossed over $1m at the US box-office even though it had only cost $70,000 to make. Corman attributed its success and subsequent cult status to “the wildness of the title and the construction of the storyline”.

Under the effects of radiation, crabs on a remote Pacific island mutate into 25ft monsters relishing the taste of human brains and mimicking their victims’ voices to lure the surviving scientists towards their claws. Pamela Duncan was the female lead, Martha Hunter, fighting the giant talking crustaceans, alongside the Corman regulars Richard Garland and Mel Welles.

She also starred in Corman’s horror movie The Undead (1957), again alongside Garland and Welles, this time as Diana Love, a call girl who is submitted to hypnosis and relives her past life as Helene, a medieval witch. The cast almost suffocated during filming in Los Angeles when Corman filled the small soundstage located in an abandoned supermarket on Sunset Boulevard with creosote fog. Retrogression proved a popular theme at the box office and the pneumatic charms of the bosomy witches and wenches portrayed by Duncan, Allison Hayes and Dorothy Neumann lured in enough viewers to enable Corman to recoup his $70,000 outlay within weeks of the movie’s release.

These lead parts came halfway through a busy 12 years for Duncan, who appeared in over 50 episodes of television series such as Dragnet, The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin, Maverick and Perry Mason between 1951 and 1962. When the acting work dried up, she left California and moved back to the East Coast and, in 2000, was one of several entertainers interviewed at the Lillian Booth Actors’ Fund of America Home in Englewood, New Jersey, for the Chuck Braverman documentary Curtain Call, which was nominated for an Oscar.

Born in Brooklyn, New York, in 1932, Pamela Duncan had such grace and poise as a teenager that she won several beauty pageants in the New York area. In 1951, she moved to Hollywood and landed the part of a saloon barmaid in a B-western, Whistling Hills, subsequently appearing in Lawless Cowboys (1951) and The Saracen Blade (1954).

Her dark looks meant she was often cast as a señorita (in 1956, in Budd Boetticher’s Seven Men From Now or in 1957, in Gun Battle at Monterey) or as a private detective’s secretary (My Gun Is Quick, 1957). Still, she also appeared in Julie (1956), the Andrew L. Stone film starring Doris Day as a air hostess on the run from her murderous husband Louis Jourdan, and in episodes of Rawhide, Laramie, Colt 45 and Dr Kildare.

When her last three film appearances, in Don’t Give Up the Ship (1959) starring Jerry Lewis, as Pearl in Summer and Smoke (1961) and as the cigarette girl in the Elvis Presley vehicle Girls! Girls! Girls! (1962) went uncredited, Duncan knew that she would not make the leap from starlet to bona fide actress. She drifted back into obscurity and only re-emerged to reminisce about the good old days for fan magazines and for the Curtain Call documentary in 2000.

Pierre Perrone

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

June Vincent

June Vincent

June Vincent

Article from “Shadows and Satin”:

June Vincent: Not Just Another Pretty Face — by Guest Blogger Kristina Dijan

Shadows and Satin is pleased and privileged to present our very first guest blog post, by none other than Senior Writer for The Dark Pages film noir newsletter, Kristina Dijan! Kristina also writes regularly for Landmark Report (www.landmarkreport.com/kdijan) and hosts her own blog, Kristina’s Kinema, at www.kinoroll.blogspot.com. The following originally appeared in the April/May 2009 issue of The Dark Pages. (For information on subscribing to The Dark Pages, or to request a sample issue, visit:http://allthatnoir.com/newsletter.htm.) Enjoy!

June Vincent strikes a glamorous pose.

At the beginning of 1945, Universal bought the film rights for The Black Angel, a novel by Cornell Woolrich, and a little over a year later, in April 1946, the film was set to start production with Ava Gardner in the lead role. Only days after that casting announcement, however, Gardner dropped out to travel east and visit husband Artie Shaw. The immediate beneficiary of this turn of events was June Vincent, a luminous blonde who replaced Gardner and thus stepped into her first major starring role. Black Angel is a great noir, and possibly Vincent’s best known feature, though she did grace a number of good B westerns and crime films. Vincent had to her credit one other notable but brief noir appearance – more on that one later.

Vincent was born Dorothy June Smith in Ohio, the daughter of a pastor. At 17 she went to New York to pursue a modeling career, and received her first break with Harper’s Bazaar. While modeling, she struck up a friendship with Lauren Bacall, with whom she went to Hollywood after appearing on Broadway and shooting a screen test for Universal. Vincent started her film work in Honeymoon Lodge (1943).

Next for Vincent came Ladies Courageous (1944), a war film about the Women’s Auxiliary Ferrying Squadron, with Loretta Young, Anne Gwynne and Evelyn Ankers. During filming, Vincent was fixed up on a blind date, through which she met her future husband, navy pilot Lieutenant William Sterling. The couple wed in 1944, and the first of their three children was born in August 1945. Vincent worked sporadically, and then came her big break.

Black Angel is a whodunit about a woman whose husband is falsely accused of murdering slinky singer and blackmailer Mavis Marlowe (Constance Dowling). The loyal wife Catherine Bennett, played by June Vincent, embarks on her own investigation to find the real killer and save her husband from execution. Vincent teams up with Mavis’ estranged husband, a tortured and alcoholic songwriter played by Dan Duryea, who is one possible suspect until he’s cleared by an alibi. Vincent and Duryea follow a clue to Peter Lorre, whom Duryea remembers seeing at Dowling’s apartment building the night of her murder. Vincent and Duryea pretend to be a nightclub act to work at Lorre’s joint and Vincent further ingratiates herself to get her hands on evidence to clear her husband. In true noir fashion, though, things fall apart.

Vincent in Black Angel is a very appealing presence; elegant, cool and polished, but also warm, kind, concerned. She and Dan Duryea, whom Vincent called one of her favorite leading men, made an interesting couple, with him playing against type as a nicer guy, and highly sympathetic at that. Vincent goes through a fascinating transformation in the film. When she learns of her husband’s presence at Dowling’s apartment, she’s the plain, decidedly un-stylish housewife. As she takes matters into her own hands, she gradually transforms into the ultra-glamorous nightclub singer (her voice in the musical scenes was dubbed). The change is so dramatic it’s no wonder other characters think she’s familiar but can’t quite place her as the humiliated wife seen at he husband’s trial. Little wonder also that Duryea falls in love with her. She has several good scenes, like the one where Duryea unveils his latest love song to her, and she conveys both her realization that Duryea loves her and also that she doesn’t return his feelings, and feels guilty and sad about it. Vincent is also good at barely hiding her disgust at Peter Lorre’s advances, having to tolerate his creepiness to get closer to evidence that might expose him. It’s a shame Vincent never progressed to A-list stardom – Black Angel alone proved she had both the talent and the presence.

After Black Angel, Vincent left Universal for Columbia, and the change was reflected in her hairstyle. She had arrived in Hollywood wearing a long, peek-a-boo coif, similar to Veronica Lake, but with her relocation to Columbia, Vincent became a trendsetter when she started sporting white streaks – frosted hair in the front and darker in the back. At Columbia, Vincent worked almost nonstop, and appeared in many westerns and crime films, including Song of Idaho (1948), Trapped by Boston Blackie (1948), the horror film the Creeper (1948) The Arkansas Swing (1948), and Mary Ryan, Detective (1950)

So what was her uncredited cameo in a noir classic? Right after the opening credits finish rolling for In a Lonely Place (1950), a convertible pulls up next to Humphrey Bogart’s and June Vincent neatly introduces his character with her words, “Dix Steele! Don’t you remember me? You wrote the last picture I did for Columbia!” Her annoyed husband threatens Bogie, then races away.

Vincent made another noir thriller, Night Without Sleep(1952), in which her husband, composer Richard Morton (Gary Merrill), awakens with a nasty hangover and amnesia about last night, and then digs through several flashbacks to figure out if his nightmare of killing a woman was real. With her film appearances dwindling out, Vincent was often seen in TV guest spots, including a number of times on Have Gun Will Travel, and on Perry Mason, since actress friend Gail Patrick was producer of that series. Vincent used to joke with Patrick that they had better start varying her roles because viewers were catching on that she always played the murderess. Vincent worked well into the 1970s, appearing on BewitchedThe Streets of San Francisco, and Kung Fu.

After guesting on Maude in 1976, Vincent said she no longer enjoyed what she saw coming out of Hollywood and retired for good. Some time in the 1980s, Vincent’s foot was run over by a supermarket shopper with a full cart. The injury required a lot of surgery and developed into arthritis, and Vincent also was afflicted with Parkinson’s disease. In an interview, she expressed her gratitude for the Actor’s Guild benefits that helped her through her health problems, a valuable reward for her 30 plus years in Hollywood. Vincent died in November 2008.

Guest post by Kristina Dijan (www.kinoroll.blogspot.com), Senior Writer for The Dark Pages.

The above “Shadows and Satin” article can also be accessed online here.

Alexander Knox
Alexander Knox
Alexander Knox

Adam Benedick’s obituary of Alexander Knox in “The Independent” in 1995:

The air bites keenly at the top of Ibsen’s mountains. It takes stamina on each side of the footlights to make the ascent a success; the atmosphere hums with metaphysics and metaphors. We were riding high at an Edinburgh Festival with the ’69 Theatre Company which had loomed up first at Hammersmith with Brand in 1958, a rare enough piece by Ibsen to stick for generations in the memory; and now 10 years later in the Edinburgh Assembly Hall came another resurrection, Michaell Elliott’s revival of When We Dead Awaken.
t would also, like Brand, end with an avalanche. The things Ibsen expected of his players and designers! Out of the mists of all this gloomy and daring symbolism, emerged the Canadian-Scottish actor Alexander Knox, stern, intense, authoritative, chilling, and supposedly a sculptor.

He was playing with drily persuasive conviction one of Ibsen’s artists rediscovering a soulmate – a sexually insensitive egotist and idealist whose relationship with his uninspiring and disenchanted wife makes way for a reunion with a former model.

She had sat for the ageing sculptor’s masterpiece without inciting his lust. She (Wendy Hiller) could never forgive him. He, the cold, high-principled thinker, was crucially unaware of her needs.

The spectacle, with lesser players, might have been laughable, but Ibsen, given the right director, can be marvellously bracing; and Knox, the stillest and sometimes subtlest of players, had us in his palm as he moved up the menacing mountain towards the inevitable symbol of personal failure – with the bride-like Hiller at his side. It may have been her evening in its dignified evasion of absurdity, but it was Knox who commanded that peninsular stage – Tyrone Guthrie’s famous but tricky invention – to an extent which drove away all irreverent thoughts while he was on it.

He had been powerful before, in his quiet way, on London stages. In Ugo Betti’s The Burnt Flowerbed (Arts, 1955) he had played another Ibsenish character of symbolic and highly imaginative importance; and more strikingly still in Clifford Odets’s Winter Journey (St James’s) he had succeeded Michael Redgrave as the flamboyantly neurotic and drunken American actor trying to make a comeback. Even before the Second World War he was something of a name in London. At the Old Vic he had played opposite Laurence Olivier as Dr McGilp in James Bridie’s The King of Nowhere, in which he had a particular success; and he was in several of Shaw’s later plays like Geneva (1938) and, at Malvern Festival, Good King Charles’s Golden Days.

At the Old Vic he had been noted in Ralph Richardson’s Othello for a “strongly humanised” Brabantio and for Emlyn Williams’s Richard III (as Catesby) he gave “a secret, dour-lipped performance” which left at least one critic guessing. It was however as Snout in Guthrie’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream that Knox’s acting “leapt to life” – “mournful of face with a voice dripping melancholy, and a shy nervous habit of running his hand through his hair and down his side – the very lyricism of woe”.

When a young actor provokes that kind of notice as one of the “rude mechanicals” his future as a comedian might seen assured, but it was not to be in comedy that Knox came to matter, but rather as a serious, even sombre classical actor.

After the outbreak of war he returned to America and was snapped up by Hollywood, again with little scope for comedy but with a gift for playing characters rather older than himself, such as President Woodrow Wilson in Wilson (in a chilling pince-nez), for which he was nominated as best actor of 1945 in the Academy Awards.

He also acted on Broadway, with some distinction, as Baron Tuzenbach in The Three Sisters and in Hollywood and the European cinema gave generally admired performances as professors, psychiatrists, judges, neurotics and other figures of usually grave authority. One of his more memorable screen appearances came opposite Ingrid Bergman in Rossellini’s Europa 51, otherwise entitled No Greater Love; but back in England in the 1950s he had shown his quality in Guthrie’s Henry VIII at the Old Vic. Guthrie had a specific if distorted notion of Wolsey which made it impossible for Knox to be true to Shakespeare, but as several critics recognised, he remained true to his own gifts of passion, bitterness, ribaldry and irony.

Adam Benedick

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

Alexander Knox, actor: born Strathroy, Ontario 16 January 1907; married Doris Nolan; died Berwick-upon-Tweed 26 April 1995.

Alexander Knox
Alexander Knox
Alexander Knox
Alexander Knox
Dale Robertson
Dale Robertson

Ronald Bergan’s “Guardian” obituary:

In Hollywood, in the days when men were men, Dale Robertson, who has died aged 89, was considered the epitome of masculinity. In the Clarion Call episode from O Henry’s Full House (1952), a giggling, snivelling crook, played by Richard Widmark, whom Robertson, a cop, has come to arrest, keeps calling him “the beeg man”. Robertson, an ex-prize fighter, was indeed “beeg” – tall, well-built and ruggedly handsome, with a gravelly voice. He was tough but fair to men, and courteous to ladies, particularly in the many westerns in which he starred in the 1950s, and in his most famous role, that of special investigator Jim Hardie in the TV series Tales of Wells Fargo.

He was born Dayle Lymoine Robertson, in Harrah, Oklahoma, and attended Oklahoma Military Academy, Claremore, where he was named “all around outstanding athlete”. During the second world war, he served with Patton’s Third Army, winning bronze and silver stars, before having his knee shattered by German mortar fire. He claimed that, had it not been for this injury, he would have pursued a professional boxing career.

When Robertson was stationed in California, he had his photograph taken to send to his mother. The photographer liked the picture so much that he enlarged it and put in his window. It was seen by talent agents, who contacted Robertson.

Without ever having acted, or taken a lesson, Robertson made for Hollywood in 1946, but it took two years before he was given a few small roles at various studios, one as a lifeguard in The Girl from Jones Beach (1949). Then Nat Holt, producer of westerns, cast him as Jesse James in Fighting Man of the Plains (1949). It was a small role, but Robertson got to rescue Randolph Scott from the gallows at the last minute, and was offered a long-term contract with 20th Century Fox.

He was given a supporting role as a hardened soldier in Robert Wise’s civil-war western Two Flags West (1950), and Fox decided to try him in a couple of musicals in 1951: Call Me Mister, starring Betty Grable, in which he played a doting soldier; and Golden Girl, in which he co-starred with Mitzi Gaynor, he as a Confederate spy, she a Yankee showgirl.

He got his first top billing in Return of the Texan (1952), and subsequently settled down to being a cowboy hero in a number of competently made westerns at Fox, often co-starring with the studio’s young contract players, as in The Silver Whip (1953) with Rory Calhoun and Robert Wagner. Occasionally, Robertson had a change of pace, as in the period musical The Farmer Takes a Wife (1953) in which he sang (not badly) We’re in Business, with Grable.

Robertson’s favourite among his own movies was The Gambler from Natchez (1954), in which he played the title role of a man on the track of three men who had killed his father. In Sitting Bull, the same year, he played an army major who brings about peace between the Sioux tribe and the American forces. The romance on and off screen was provided by Mary Murphy, who had just played Marlon Brando’s girlfriend in The Wild One. She and Robertson were married the same year; however, the marriage was annulled six months later because Murphy claimed her husband did not want children. (Actually, Robertson already had a daughter by his first wife.)

Robertson, who always professed his love of God and country, was never very co-operative with the press, even once shunning the powerful columnist Louella Parsons. As a result, he won the press Sour Apple Celebrity award for three years running. But then, commented Robertson, “that dang Sinatra had to hit some photographer in the nose and stop me from getting my fourth”.

One of his rare appearances in contemporary clothes was in Top of the World (1955), as a senior jet pilot naturally piqued when transferred from Honolulu to the frozen Arctic.

As the movie western declined in the late 1950s, Robertson found his niche in westerns for TV, such as Tales of Wells Fargo, which ran for four years from 1957. The stories revolved around Robertson as troubleshooter for the pioneering transport company. Not always the most animated of actors, Robertson was effective as a stolid, taciturn type, often letting his left-handed gun speak for him. His other long-running series was Iron Horse (1966-68), in which he was a gambler turned railway baron.

In the 60s, Robertson returned to the big screen in a few B westerns, and starred in the British-made Coast of Skeletons (1964) as a US tycoon whose African diamond operation is being investigated by Richard Todd. However, most of his later appearances were on TV, in series such as Death Valley Days, and as a guest on Love Boat, Murder She Wrote, Dallas and Dynasty, while he lived in semi-retirement at his ranch in Oklahoma.

There, he and his fourth wife, Susan, and his two daughters, Rochelle and Rebel, who survive him, bred polo ponies and racehorses.

• Dale Robertson (Dayle Lymoine Robertson), actor, born 14 July 1923; died 27 February 2013.

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

Dale Robertson
Dale Robertson
Raymond Massey

Raymond Massey

Raymond Massey

Raymond Massey

TCM overview:

Exceptionally tall, with distinctive, unconventional features and a commanding presence, actor Raymond Massey built an impressive career out of playing reassuring authority figures and scheming villains equally well. The Canadian-born actor first honed his craft on the stages of the U.K. for nearly 10 years before venturing across the Atlantic to appear on Broadway as “Hamlet” and in early sound pictures like “The Speckled Band” (1931), in the role of Sherlock Holmes. Massey demonstrated his versatility with venomous characters in films like “The Prisoner of Zenda” (1937) juxtaposed against his career-defining portrayal of the 16th U.S. president in “Abe Lincoln in Illinois” (1940), based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning play written with him in mind. Massey became the stuff of Hollywood legend when the aftermath of his divorce from actress Adrianne Allen inspired the beloved Tracy-Hepburn comedy “Adam’s Rib” (1949). As an actor, Massey continually impressed with is ability to make difficult characters sympathetic in such films as “The Fountainhead” (1949), opposite Gary Cooper, and as James Dean’s emotionally unavailable father in “East of Eden” (1955). A younger generation of fans came to appreciate his later work as Richard Chamberlain’s authoritative mentor Dr. Gillespie on “Dr. Kildare” (NBC, 1961-66). Even as his half-century career neared its end, Massey continued to make memorable contributions to such big-budget Hollywood offerings as the Western “Mackenna’s Gold” (1969). One of the first and best examples of a “working actor” in film, Massey never failed to elevate the integrity of any project.

Raymond Hart Massey was born in Toronto, Ontario, Canada on Aug. 30, 1896. He was the son of Ann and Chester Daniel Massey, whose family roots could be traced back to pre-Revolutionary War America. Although Raymond participated in a few school productions while attending the Appleby School in Oakville, Ontario, the assumption was that he would eventually enter into his well-to-do family’s farm equipment business upon completing his education. As a member of the Canadian Officer’s Training Corps while attending the University of Toronto when World War I began, he was commissioned as a lieutenant in the Canadian Army. Massey served with a field artillery unit at France’s Western Front until he was wounded at Ypres in 1916. Hospitalized for several months and diagnosed with shell shock, he was later sent to the U.S., where he served as an artillery instructor for a time before rejoining the Canadian Expeditionary Forces in 1918 and being sent to Siberia in the wake of the Russian Communist Revolution. While stationed at Vladivostok, Massey was put in charge of entertainment for the troops, for whom he mounted several theatrical productions. In later years, the venerable actor related that it was then that the performing bug truly bit him, once and for all.

Upon being discharged, Massey attended Britain’s Balliol College, Oxford. The stay at Oxford was not a long one, however, and before long he was back home in Canada, where he attempted to make a go of it in the family business. But the thrill of the theater still called to Massey, who, upon the advice of renowned thespian John Drew and after pleading for permission from his patriarchal Methodist father, returned to England to pursue a career on the stage. Eventually the determined actor landed his first professional role in a 1922 production of Eugene O’Neill’s “In the Zone” and from that point forward, there was no looking back. Within four years, Massey was established on the stages of London as both an actor and director, and in less than a decade, he made trip back across the Atlantic for his Broadway debut as the star of a revival of Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” in 1931.

Although he had made a pair of brief, uncredited screen appearances two years prior, Massey’s first major film role was as Sherlock Holmes in the mystery “The Speckled Band” (1931), the first talkie to depict the exploits of the great detective. Other leading roles soon came in films like director James Whale’s superb “The Old Dark House” (1932), opposite Boris Karloff. Massey’s imposing features also allowed him to adapt easily to more villainous roles, such as the slithering Chauvelin in “The Scarlet Pimpernel” (1935). Massey had far from abandoned work on the stage, though, appearing on Broadway many times over the next two decades and earning accolades for such portrayals as “Ethan Frome” in 1936. Back on screen, he showed his bad side twice more as Black Michael opposite David Niven’s “The Prisoner of Zenda” (1937) and as the conniving Prince Ghul in the British Empire epic, “The Drum” (1938). At 6’3″ tall, Massey was perfectly suited to play the legendarily lanky commander-in-chief in the Pulitzer Prize-winning Broadway play “Abe Lincoln in Illinois” (1938) which was written specifically with the actor in mind by playwright Robert Sherwood.

Massey’s personal life took a decidedly truth-is-stranger-than-fiction turn in 1939 when he and his wife of 10 years, actress Adrianne Allen, entered into divorce proceedings. Massey and Allen were each represented by one-half of the husband and wife legal team of William and Dorothy Whitney. With the divorce finalized, the attorneys quickly divorced each other and went on to marry their respective famous clients – Massey and Allen. The bizarre turn of events later inspired husband and wife screenwriting team of Ruth Gordon and Garson Kanin to pen the classic 1949 battle of the sexes comedy “Adam’s Rib,” starring Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn. During their time as a couple, Massey and Allen had two children, Daniel and Anna, both of whom went on to enjoy acting careers of their own.

The following year, Massey reprised his most famous stage persona in the film version of “Abe Lincoln in Illinois” (1940), for which he received an Academy Award nomination. He took on another historical figure that year with a wild-eyed, unsympathetic portrayal of the radical abolitionist John Brown in “Santa Fe Trail” (1940), starring Errol Flynn as Confederate Civil War hero J.E.B. Stuart. Working steadily throughout the war years, Massey took over the role his “Old Dark House” co-star Boris Karloff had originated on stage for director Frank Capra’s film adaptation of the play “Arsenic and Old Lace” (1944), then lent his intimidating visage to the role of a stern prosecutor in the Heaven-set sequences of the imaginative Michael Powell-Emeric Pressburger fantasy, “A Matter of Life and Death” (1945). Maintaining his ties to the stage, the actor returned to Broadway to play Professor Henry Higgins in the 1945 production of “Pygmalion.”

Other notable work of the period included a performance as General Ezra Mannon – an updated version of Greek King Agamemnon – in “Mourning Becomes Electra” (1947), the screen adaptation of O’Neill’s epic reinterpretation of “The Oresteia,” a trilogy of Greek tragedies by Aeschylus. He was sympathetic as the well-meaning but weak-willed newspaper magnate Gail Wynand in director King Vidor’s adaptation of author Ayn Rand’s treatise on individuality, “The Fountainhead” (1949), starring Gary Cooper as visionary architect Howard Roark. Still at the height of his powers, Massey was excellent years later as the proud and emotionally distant patriarch Adam Trask opposite James Dean in the filmed version of Steinbeck’s “East of Eden” (1955) and delivered a far more balanced portrayal in his second outing as John Brown in the under-appreciated “Seven Angry Men” (1955).

By the second half of the decade, Massey transitioned more predominantly into the burgeoning medium of television, appearing in guest spots on many of the popular anthology series of the day, such as “General Electric Theater” (CBS, 1953-1962). The venerable stage and film star became widely known by a new generation of audience as the gruff but caring Dr. Gillespie on the popular medical-drama “Dr. Kildare” (NBC, 1961-66), featuring a fresh-faced Richard Chamberlain in the title role. Fans of his work as the stern taskmaster Gillespie may not have been surprised when Massey made his personal politics known by actively campaigning for Republican presidential candidate Barry Goldwater during the 1964 race against incumbent Lyndon B. Johnson.

Long established as an elder statesman of screens both large and small, Massey continued to appear in projects, albeit with less frequency as the ’60s drew to a close. His final performance in a feature film was as a fortune-hunting preacher in the Gregory Peck Western “Mackenna’s Gold” (1969). This was followed a few years later by his last television appearances in the political-thriller “The President’s Plane is Missing” (ABC, 1973) and the family film “My Darling Daughter’s Anniversary” (ABC, 1973), starring one of his contemporaries, Robert Young. After battling a case of pneumonia for nearly a month, Massey died at Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles on July 29, 1983, just weeks shy of his 87th birthday. Somewhat overshadowing the sad event was the passing of actor David Niven, Massey’s “Prisoner of Zenda” co-star, who died that same day.

By Bryce Coleman

The above TCM overview can also be accessed online here.