The Sunday Herald Tribune Movie News
Orson Welles was a critic's darling but not so beloved by the movie brass in 1946 when he also still was involved with the theater and appeared frequently on radio, where he had a commentary show of his own. Otis Guernsey's interview with Welles ran on the first page of the Herald Tribune arts and entertainment section on the 14th. The writer ran through Welles' film, radio and stage accomplishments to date, much of it with the involvement of The Mercury Theater, although Guernsey expressed some mystification over what constituted a Mercury Theater production and what did not. Not all of Welles' endeavors had that stamp and Welles was not directly involved in everything that the Mercury Theater did. “It seems to be a fraternity of artists who have worked under the Mercury masthead, an ever changing personnel held together by a spirit rather than a list of rules or annual dues,” Guernsey wrote. Welles told the reporter that he was interested mostly in film because it was where one could experiment without limits. “The ideal way to make a movie, of course, is to do a one man job. The best ones are made that way—they have a 'style' that comes out of an individual's personality. 'Citizen Kane' is the only picture over which I had complete control, and it was my most successful one,” he said. Welles expressed a preference for directing over acting.
Guernsey noted that “many observers visualize him as a rather eccentric and somewhat frantic artistic phenomenon.” "Oh, they don't think anything of that kind about me," Welles countered. "They just think I'm nuts.'” The actor thought the characterization was largely the invention of writers who attributed “every mildly crazy story circulated around Hollywood or Broadway” to him. “Now when I don't roll my eyes, quote Shakespeare and glow in the dark people are disappointed.”
Joe Pihodna wrote a column of theater and screen news items for the Sunday Herald Tribune. Among his movie items on April 14:
Popular novelist Taylor Caldwell finally was seeing one of her best sellers make it to the screen. A new company, Story Productions Inc, was putting an adaptation of her current novel, This Side of Innocence, before the cameras in the fall and had also bought The Wide House. Caldwell, had received $100,000 (more than $1-million in 2010 dollars) against a ten percent share of the producers profit for This Side of Innocence. The writer, also known as Mrs. Marcus Reback of Buffalo, had set both novels in the Buffalo area. She wrote mostly at night after her wifely and motherly chores were done. (Note: Neither novel made it to the screen. It wasn't until the advent of the television miniseries that some of Caldwell's epic historical sagas were dramatized.)
A new Swedish actress, Viveca Lindfors, had arrived in America with a Warner Bros. contract. She was already a stage and screen star at home and was being touted as the next Bergman. While in New York she planned to catch the Lunts, Katharine Cornell, Gertrude Lawrence and “Anna Lucasta” on Broadway.
An unsigned article looked forward to Danny Kaye's performance of one of his most popular nightclub numbers, “Pavlowa,” in the Technicolor musical “The Kid From Brooklyn.” the week's big movie opening. Those critics who were not unabashed Kaye groupies pointed out later that week that a milkman-turned-prizefighter singing a tongue-twisting patter song about ballet dancers was incongruous with the movie's plot and made no sense for his character. The writer of this newspaper feature called the number a “rough-house satire on the ballet” performed by “the chrysanthemum-topped clown.” Kaye had introduced it at Chez Paree in Chicago then brought it with him when he played his star-making engagement at Le Martinique in New York. The writer expected the number to join in popularity with the comic specialty numbers that Kaye had previously performed in films including “Bali Boogie” and “Cobra Number” from “Wonder Man,” and “Movie Lobby Number” and “Melody in 4-F” from “Up in Arms.”
The article said that Kaye had worked over his repertoire in his recent three-week live stand at the Paramount. Each performance had been different. Sometimes he did “Conga” or the dialect-scrambling “Minnie, the Moocher,” or the millinery number “Antoine of Paris” or “Stanislavsky” or “Dinah.” Sometimes the performance would last the scheduled half hour and other times would run close to an hour to the consternation of the stage manager. He did a full hour-and-a-half for his final performance. “Bobby-sockers sat in the third row watching him with opera glasses. Fan clubs sent him presents of tie-and-handkerchief sets, with requests that he do this number or that.” The show ended at midnight with the audience on its feet singing “Auld Lang Syne” along with Kaye.
The newspaper ran a caricature of the Easter stage show at Radio City Music Hall. “On the Avenue” was a new springtime revue that continued beyond the holiday period. The cartoon showed the corps de ballet dressed as edible vegetables and a rabbit for the pageant, the Rockettes as glamorous dancing daffodils and novelty adagio dancers Myrtill & Pecaud in front of the realistic reproduction of Rockefeller Center Plaza, which served as the backdrop for their number.
Thornton Delehanty interviewed Emmet Lavery, president of the Screen Writers Guild, who was running for Congress in the Democratic primary in California. Lavery had written “The Magnificent Yankee,” currently playing on Broadway. His screenplays included “Hitler's Children.” Lavery actually had bonafide political credentials. As a young man, he served four years as president of the Board of Aldermen in his hometown, Poughkeepsie, NY, where both his father and uncle had been involved in city politics. He had practiced law after his graduation from Fordham Law. Lavery said he had forbidden the union from endorsing his campaign, although a number of prominent screenwriters were on his campaign committee. He was running as a progressive. While he supported freedom from censorship and stronger copyright protection, he insisted he was not making show business concerns a focus of his campaign. He supported civilian control of atomic research. He also supported the United Nations, extension of the Fair Employment Practices Commission, old age security and a win the peace program. This was enough for the right wing to brand him a Commie, although he was a practicing Catholic.
Other movie related news and features from the Sunday Herald Tribune:
Additional scenes were being shot for the heavily promoted “Duel in the Sun.” The steamy movie, which was producer David O. Selznick's attempt to top his "Gone With the Wind," was expected to run two hours and 35 minutes.
A scale model of Shakespeare's London had been built for the opening scenes of “Henry V,” starring Laurence Olivier. The model took a year to construct. The film actually was released in Great Britain in 1944 but was only now making its way to the states.
A feature story on “Make Mine Music,” the Disney animated musical anthology opening that week, discussed the stars who had contributed their vocal talent.
“Lady in the Lake” was Robert Montgomery's next project upon completion of the filming of “A Woman of My Own” with Greer Garson. (Montgomery was replaced in the latter film, released as "Desire Me.")
In an interview, character actress Sara Haden usually cast as the prim confidential secretary or old maid schoolteacher in movies, said she had played the confidential secretary of nearly every major male star in Hollywood over the past 12 years. She was now playing her 42nd role of the type, this time as Sylvia Sidney's personal secretary in “Mr. Ace.” She would like to be the boss for a change. She is best remembered today for playing the spinster aunt in the "Andy Hardy" movie series.
Director Michael Curtiz had signed a new long-term contract with Warner Bros., where he was one of their top directors. His first picture under the new contract would be 'Winter Kill,” based on the mystery novel by Steven Fisher, who had written the film “Tokyo Confidential.” Joan Crawford and Rosalind Russell had been mentioned for the lead. (The film was not made)
Jack Sher and John Keating characterized Robert Walker, as the "24 Hour Actor" in their profile of the actor in This Week, the newspaper's Sunday supplement. Walker was then starring in the movie “The Sailor Takes a Wife.” According to the article, Walker had the Bohemian actor act down pat, meeting the journalists at the Waldorf-Astoria in heavy-rimmed glasses and clothes that would have been suitable for a Greenwich Village poet, except that they actually fit. They rode in a studio-supplied limousine to “21,” described in the article as a “high-priced mess hall frequented by movie stars, bank presidents, jockeys and other people with large bankrolls” where table-hopping was a sport. Young autograph seekers mobbed Walker at the door, missing the entrance of actress Paulette Goddard who arrived on foot, which the writers found odd. Walker told the reporters he was sick of playing 19 and 20-year-olds and yearned for meatier roles.