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FROM BLACKLIST TO "A" LIST
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Originally a noir specialist,
he turned to romantic fare
of TheColumnists.com
When director Michael Gordon first came to Hollywood in the early 1940s, a graduate of New York's acclaimed left wing Group Theatre, he quickly became known for his special affinity for films noir, the dark and shadowy mysteries and thrillers that today are embraced by film cultists as the pinnacle of Hollywood creativity.
But, ironically, his greatest successes came with a series of romantic comedies in the 1950s and 1960s, after his career had been threatened with ruin by the notorious Hollywood blacklist, the result of the anti-communist witch hnnts of Sen. Joseph McCarthy and the House Un-American Activities Committee.
It was a remarkable career journey for Gordon, who was sharing his expertise with film students as an instructor in the theatre arts department at UCLA in Westwood when I caught up with him in July of 1983. I still remember how much trouble the taxi driver had finding the right building that day--and how I had to race down a long hallway full of small teacher offices to finally locate the right one where Gordon was waiting for me.
Gordon was then 74 years old, but scarcely looked it. As we chatted, munching stale donuts and drinking cold coffee, the portrait finally began to emerge of a film director who had two very distinctly different careers before and after the blacklist had its way with him.
Here are the highlights of a long afternoon of conversation:
BAWDEN: How did you land your first job as a film director, doing the 1942 mystery "Boston Blackie Goes Hollywood"?
GORDON: It was a rough route. I started out as a stage actor and director, but breaking into movies was always a goal. So I got a gig at Columbia as a dialogue director and that was the breakthrough. And Columbia was the place to be because they worked me every day. For example, I ran dialogue on "Bedtime Story" (1941) with Loretta Young and Fredric March. I’d later use Freddie in films, but Loretta always scared me. She was so imperious! I’d also had a stint as film editor, so I was getting to know the trade.
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At left,
the poster for Gordon's first film as a director, "Boston
Blackie Goes Hollywood."
At right, Oscar-winner Warner Baxter, who launched a second career
as a screen sleuth
in Gordon's "The Crime Doctor" (1943).
So, (Columbia studio boss) Harry Cohn says, “Put the kid
on a Boston Blackie movie” and I did "Boston Blackie
Goes Hollywood". We had Chester Morris (who played the burglar-turned-sleuth,
Boston Blackie, in 14 films), Constance Worth, some great characters
like Lloyd Corrigan, George E. Stone, a young punk named Forrest
Tucker. It was formula stuff for all 14 Blackies. And we shot
on standing sets and wrapped it up in 12 days by the seat of
our pants. I’d just point Chester at the camera and he’d
yammer out his dialogue in one take or two at best.
So, Cohn tells me I’m dawdling and I make "Underground
Agent" (1941) with Bruce Bennett in 10 days flat. Next I
do "One Dangerous Night" (1943) in two weeks with Warren
William as The Lone Wolf (another Columbia detective series)
only there was a title change because the series character was
beginning to pale with audiences. Then Cohn tosses me "The
Crime Doctor" (a 1943 detective picture, first in a series
of 10 films based on a popular radio series) with Oscar winner
Warner Baxter--only he’s now 54 and on the downward slide
of a great career. He takes directors seriously and is always
pestering me for motivation, that kind of thing. What do I know?
I’ve got another set up to speed through. But it clicks
with the audience and the cast is rich with talent: Margaret
Lindsay, Ray Collins fresh from (Orson Welles') "The Magnifient
Ambersons" no less; John Litel, a Catholic gentleman always
blessing cast and crew. And it hits with theater owners and Warner
has a wonderful new career as King of the Bs at Columbia.
BAWDEN: Then you were away for four years.
GORDON: A little something called World War II. And when I came back, I wanted to leave B movies, so I got a one picture gig at the revamped Universal-International, which desperately needed inexpensive product. With all my B movie tricks I presented them with "The Web" (1947), which made a considerable bundle. Let me say I thought Ella Raines the sexiest thing on two high heels and she really could be sexy and wholesome all at once. Eddie (Edmond) O’Brien was our hero and Vincent Price and Bill Bendix our character heavies. The script was brisk and I had everybody talk at a fast pace to disguise the plot holes. The idea was to draw the audience into this mystery and get them trying to solve it. I mean why would lawyer O’Brien be hired by wealthy Price as a mere bodyguard? It just didn’t make sense. As a twist I used William Bendix as a cop trying to figure it all out. We shot in shadows, which are wonderful for disguising the humdrum sets. And I produced for UI a big box office hit.
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"THE WEB," a classic film noir he made for U.I. in 1947. |
BAWDEN: How did you get the plum assignment to direct "Another Part of the Forest" (1948)? (It was based on Lillian Hellman's hit play, the prequel to her "The Little Foxes," which had been a hit movie, too.)
GORDON: Well, UI made a huge bid for the Broadway play when it was still running. I do know Sam Goldwyn wanted it and the price was sky high. I saw it with young Pat Neal as the teenaged Regina and she was dazzling and got her Tony for it. But UI had paid a king’s ransom for it so they spurned the offers from the likes of Willie Wyler, who, after all, had directed "The Little Foxes" and obviously wanted to do the prequel. I got it because of my stage background and because I was cheap. The huge unexpected success of "The Web" was another factor.
Casting was tough. Neal had been snapped up by Warners, who refused to loan her. The studio wanted little Ann Blyth, who was the right age, 19, but was a good little Catholic girl. But she had been such a magnificent baddie as the daughter in "Mildred Pierce" (for which she earned an Oscar nomination in 1945), we thought she could get away with it and we were almost right. Freddie March was marvelous as the father, Marcus, although he truly loved to go right (over) the top. He was a true villain here. His real wife, Florence Eldridge, was steady as his wife. Eddie O’Brien was great as one of the nasty sons, Ben, and I got Dan Duryea as the other, Oscar. He plays his own father! He’d already played the son in "Little Foxes"!
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to William Wyler's "The Little Foxes," both based on hit stage plays by Lillian Hellman. |
About 10 days into filming, Florence, who initially struggled with the part. comes to me and says, “Don’t worry, Michael, in another week I’ll have this character down pat.” You see, in the theater there’s a long period of rehearsal, which is unknown in movies. And I had to remind Florence that in another week we’d be halfway through filming. She thought about that for some time and then disappeared to memorize her lines far in advance. Shooting out of order discombobulated her, but in the end she gives a magnificent take on the only nice member of the family.
The suits (UI brass) really pressed me to delete the KKK scene, but I refused. It was true. Lillian Hellman swore it had happened and it stayed put. Vladimir Pozner’s adaptation was expert, perhaps too scary for those weaned on the American dream. It’s one of the scariest I’ll ever see, a true horror tale. Only the monsters are inside us all. Would we do any different if given the same chance? For that reason it failed at the box office. This time there was no great star like Bette Davis to bring in the crowds. (Bette Davis had starred in "The Little Foxes.") Theater owners complained about all the empty seats.
BAWDEN: But you turned right around and
made "An Act of Murder" (1948) with March and Eldridge.
GORDON: We started production before "Forest" came
out and became this big bomb. And don’t forget we had Eddie
O’Brien in there, too. Geraldine Brooks came over from Warners
as the girl. The original title was "Live Today For Tomorrow."
I think it’s the finest movie I’ve ever seen about
euthanasia. It’s also the only one. How we got the front
office to make it I simply do not know.
Everything was done on the Colonial street on the Universal back
lot. Florence had an inoperable brain tumor. End of story. Would
people race to theaters to see her suffer? Nope! And I think
we proved that. I went to a matinee in Westwood and there were
three people watching. I think I did OK with it. Remember the
Code forbade any suggestion that assisted suicide could be an
acceptable option. Old Joe Breen (Hollywood's official censor)
really hollered when he first read the script, but I got him
on Christian principles. Stanley Ridges was the doctor and he
told me, “I just got through trying to cure Joan Crawford
of schizophrenia and now this!” He was referring to the
movie "Possessed" and he always played doctors so well
I used him again as a psychiatrist in "The Lady Gambles."
One plus in our movie was Hal Mohr’s shadowy camerawork.
It scared a lot of people. I’ve talked to Freddie about
this one in later years and he thinks it’s better than "Best
Years of Our Lives" (1946), which garnered him a second
Oscar. So what if we were daring? It lost a bundle and hastened
the end of UI’s management team. A dark joke at the studio
was an all cancer double bill at the Westwood cinema: this one
and "No Sad Songs For Me"!
BAWDEN: Then came "The Lady Gambles" (1949).
GORDON: It was a study of compulsion. I was told I could only
do it with a big star so a script was duly dispatched to Barbara
Stanwyck. She told me Universal was a studio she advoided. And
she phones and asks haughtily why should she do this. And I said,
“Because it’s not a Barbara Stanwyck melodrama. You
don’t kill anybody here. Think Ray Milland in "Lost
Weekend." Only your character is addicted to gambling.”
And she took it.
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Barbara Stanwyck in Gordon's "The Lady Gambles." |
The first half of this movie is great. Then I let it all slip away with bad scripting. I got everything I wanted from Stanwyck and even a little more. Boy was she game! In one scene she’s beaten to a pulp by a gangster’s mob and I had to reshoot it multiple times and she never complained. In another bit at the roulette wheel I needed her to really look desperate and there’s real sweat coming off her brow! She didn’t care how she looked, she was playing the part.
At first she’s a dedicated Chicago housewife with great guilt feelings, but dedicated to her newspaper husband’s career. He was played by Bob Preston. Everything fell apart as she slipped into gambling and then we tried too hard to explain away everything. People watch it today as just about the first movie shot in Las Vegas which seems so tame compared with today. Blaming her mental turmoil on an older sister was the worst kind of pop psychology.
In one bit, UI made me use their pin-up boy of the month, one Anthony Curtis. Boy, was he scared! I calmed Tony down, but he kept saying that playing a bellhop he couldn’t open a door and do dialogue at the same time. And now look where he is!
BAWDEN: You also directed scenes in "Once More, My Darling" (1949) but got no credit?
GORDON: As a favor to Robert Montgomery. Bob was both directing and co-starring and he needed some help. He’d already directed "Lady In the Lake" and "Ride The Pink Horse." But this was his very last comedy, although at the time he could not have known that. A year later he jumped to TV as producer and star of "Robert Montgomery Presents." He played a movie star back in the Army to help bratty Ann Blyth out of a jam. It was very silly and Bob was a full 25 years older than Ann and it certainly showed. There were some wonderful actors in it–the Broadway legend Jane Cowl, Taylor Holmes as a character obsessed with Winston Churchill. Bob just felt plain silly romping around with Ann. And the film was a big flop.
BAWDEN: One of my favorite films of yours, "Woman In Hiding" (1950) is among your least known movies.
GORDON Even I haven’t been able to see it in decades. It was basically designed as an Ida Lupino vehicle after she left Warners. She needed the work and took on this shaky film and really made something of it. I used Steve McNally as I’d just worked with him in "Lady Gambles." He excelled at playing shady characters, although in private here was a dedicated family man. Ida got us to hire her husband, Howard Duff, who was a very lazy guy. I added John Litel, Peggy Dow and Taylor Holmes from "Darling" and we had this nifty little film noir which I shot in about three weeks –18 days because we worked Saturdays. John Litel owned a family mill and Stephen tossed him off a cliff and then married the daughter played by Lupino. Pulp stuff. She finds out and drives away and her car crashes and she goes into hiding. Ida would sit by me as I discussed set ups with the cameraman. She was determined to be a director. And she was always discussing lighting and technical matters.
I started with the crash and then Lupino did a voiceover, “That’s my body they’re looking for.” Sure, it was trash, but it was effective trash.
BAWDEN: Then came "Cyrano De Bergerac" (1950).
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won the Best Actor Oscar in the title role of Gordon's "CYRANO DE BERGERAC" (1950). |
GORDON: Look, it had about the same budget as "Woman In Hiding." It was designed as a vehicle for Jose Ferrer. He had only done a few films. Certainly, he was not box office. We shot very quickly, very efficiently. Some scenes were staged in Griffith Park. The sets, if you examine them, are pretty terrible, but we had no money. Many of the period clothes came from that company in Hollywood that rents out costumes. Jose had done it on Broadway in 1946, so he knew the part. All I had to do was whisper, “Down! Down!” because he had the tendency to act to the back row. Jose knew how to speak the blank verse and he coached the others. Mala Powers is a beautiful Roxanne, but her interpretation gets flat at times. Morris Carnovsky excelled, I thought. (Producer) Stanley Kramer got just enough money together to get it finished. Then it was this enormous hit. Once again the Suits had underestimated the audience, who really craved this sort of thing. It made Jose into a big movie star for a time. He took the Oscar and deservedly so. And it certainly helped my career and I accepted a short term directing contract from Fox.
BAWDEN: You started there with "I Can Get It For You Wholesale" (1951).
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strikes a sexy pose in "I CAN GET IT FOR YOU WHOLESALE." |
GORDON: The story had everything and the setting was unusual. Susie Hayward was just great as the fashion model on her way up, although in real life, at 33, she would be on her way down. Dan Dailey was the salesman she latches onto because she really wants to design. Sam Jaffe was the production genius. George Sanders ran the clothing chain that picked up the wares. I liked the book by Jerome Weidman and we shot extensively in the garment industry. You get a real feel for what 7th Avenue was like.
Susie eschewed her usual soft focus gal.
She was basically being herself, loud, obstreperous, a good dame
to be around. Dan was more than just a song and dance man. He
had a great nasty streak as well. The studio tested it and found
many women did not like our portrayal of a pushy career woman.
Remember this was The Fifties when women were supposedly yearning
for a family in the suburbs.
BAWDEN: Then came "The Secret of Convict Lake" (1951).
GORDON: I don’t think it’s a good western. Glenn Ford
and Gene Tierney are both basically passive actors. They didn’t
mix well together. I think in support Ethel Barrymore, Ann Dvorak
and Zachary Scott were better. I’d try giving Miss Ethel
a piece of direction and she’d flash those huge black eyes
at me as if to say, "I’ll do it my own way, thank
you." Not much happens here. I tried to disguise it
with the great Leo Tover photography and the secondary characters
but it was not a hit. At the last minute they decided to shoot
in black and white, an indication the studio had no confidence
in the material. The studio bosses hated it and shipped it out
as an 83-minute second feature. At least 20 minutes was sheared
on Zanuck’s orders. As it turned out this was my last movie
for eight years. The Locust Years were starting for me and for
a lot of others.
BAWDEN: How do you explain the blacklist to your current students
at UCLA?
GORDON: I don’t. Nobody ever asks about it. The students
have no sense of history. The country moved on as if the whole
thing had never happened. But lives were destroyed, families
came apart. It was rough for some of us. Writers could use pseudonyms.
Directors like myself went back to Broadway where nobody would
tolerate a blacklist. Many actors couldn’t get jobs and
for some of them, like Johnny Garfield and Canada Lee, it was
a killing experience. I was at the Yale Drama School the same
time as (director) Elia Kazan and both of us were later blacklisted
but Gadge (Kazan's nickname) squealed and named names and I never
did.
It was payback time for the right wing.
They’d chaffed under 20 years of Democratic victories. Nobody
ever believed the Communists were a threat. It was impossible
to be a Communist in Lotus Land. How could you be--with a splendid
home and swimming pool? I immediately got jobs in the theatre
and that actually made me a better director in the long run.
I regret my friendship with Bob Montgomery shattered. He became
a rabid right-winger, which I could never understand. But I survived
it all. I refused to be a victim of this hate.
BAWDEN: How did you get back to start your second Hollywood career?
GORDON: Success got me back. I worked hard on Broadway and had
this string of successes. My biggest hit was "The Tender
Trap," which became a Frankie Sinatra vehicle. And so (producer)
Ross Hunter courted me. MCA (the talent agency) raised a stink,
but Ross had his own distinct unit and when MCA bought the studio
(Universal) in 1958 and fired many of the producers, Ross was
wisely kept on because his pictures always made big bucks.
My first picture back was "Pillow Talk" (1959), one of the year’s smash hit. I went up to Westwood to see it and I couldn’t get in. The lines snaked around the block. Getting it all put together was Ross’s talent. Universal ordered him to do something with Rock Hudson and Ross suggested a comedy. Rock arrived on set totally freaked out by the very idea of being funny. I said to stop that. to play the character as a lecherous young thing and the laughs would flow--and I was right.
Getting him paired with Doris Day was serendipitous because she’d already done it in "Teacher’s Pet" (oppposite Clark Gable). Doris had an obnoxious husband, Marty Melcher, and he did all the dirty work for her. But her word was law in terms on cinematography. She was 35 at the time. And wardrobe was another exclusive. In many scenes I drove Doris crazy by requesting multiple takes because everything had to be nuanced and not at all dirty. It was a romp, simply stated.
Doris wasn’t playing a virgin at all. She was an interior decorator. In "Teacher’s Pet" she’d also had a vocation as a J-school instructor. She and Rock had met but got to know each other as the film progressed and they really clicked. And I know you’re going to ask me if I suspected Rock was gay. Yes--and that’s why I cast Tony Randall as the even gayer friend. That would deflect all that suspicion, don’t you see?
I got a reputation as the hot comedy director
and nobody remembered my dramatic past.
BAWDEN: But you then did a dramatic thriller, "Portrait
in Black" (1960), which I remember seeing as a 14-year-old
at Loew’s Uptown in Toronto and the matinee was packed.
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smoulders in Gordon's "PORTRAIT IN BLACK." |
GORDON: Ross asked me to. He needed a vehicle for Lana Turner right after her hit with "Imitation of Life" and he had to meet a deadline or pay her off. We got hold of a flop Broadway play and restructured it as a Hitchcockian murder mystery. Ross said he’d add John Saxon and Sandra Dee as the teen love birds to attract the younger crowd. Just to show he had a sense of humor. he added Anna May Wong, Ray Walston, Lloyd Nolan. I mean there was someone from every era. And, of course, he’d plop in Virginia Grey as insurance. She was his good luck charm.
One didn’t really direct Lana. She
wore clothes beautifully, hit her marks, looked lovely in close
ups. Ross would come on set and add flowers and fruit baskets
to every scene. I think he erred in casting Tony Quinn as the
lover,. Sorry, but I couldn’t see Lana committing murder
for him. It made a bundle. Heck, it was what is called eye candy
for the masses.
BAWDEN: Then you moved on to MGM and "Boys’ Night Out"
(1962).
GORDON: It was a Ross Hunter comedy, but without Ross Hunter.
The boys were Jim Garner, Tony Randall, Howard Duff and Howard
Morris. Kim Novak had the part that might have gone to Marilyn
Monroe had she lived. The older gals were Janet Blair (married
to Tony) and Anne Jeffreys (Duff’s wife). Looking at the
cast list, I’m astonished: William Bendix, Fred Clark, Larry
Keating. On the first day, Larry shakes Fred’s hand. He’d
replaced him on Burns and Allen’s TV show and they hadn’t
talked in a decade. You’ve seen it? Entertaining, yes? Great?
No way. I think we got in our kicks at suburban living. Kim Novak
really tried and she was adequate. People now tell me how dated
it is. But in the best possible way, I’m hoping.
BAWDEN: I’m not a big fan of "For Love or Money"
(1963).
GORDON: Make that two of us. Kirk Douglas wrangled me into doing
it. He was desperate to prove he could do comedy. Well, he can’t.
He’s a very terrifying guy up there on the screen. Great
energy, but not much compassion. Mitzi Gaynor didn’t know
how to take to him. She was always on edge. Gig Young and Thelma
Ritter had that comedy style of being able to toss lines with
glee. Kirk liked to savor every line and squeeze it for maximum
relish. This was Mitzi’s last film. It was such a bomb.
BAWDEN: How did "Move Over, Darling "(1964) come about?
GORDON: Marilyn Monroe died during the making of the film "Something’s
Got To Give/" Fox imported Lee Remick as her replacement,
but Dean Martin walked out. So they started all over again with
Doris Day, Jim Garner and Polly Bergen (replacing Cyd Charisse).
It was a remake of a remake. The original had Irene Dunne and
Cary Grant and was titled "My Favorite Wife". It was
restructured for Doris’s talents. She loved physical comedy
and in one scene she impersonates a Swedish masseur so she can
merrily beat the crap out of Polly. I teased Doris she’d
have to repeat Marilyn’s nude swimming scene, but she refused.
By the way, Doris has a great body. We just added as many shenanigans
as possible. Doris had scenes with Don Knotts that were so funny
he started making movies on his own. It was cute and silly, that’s
all.
BAWDEN: What about your next few films? They seemed strained,
I’m afraid.
GORDON: There’s a good movie buried somewhere in "A
Very Special Favor" (1965). Rock had so grown as a comedy
actor and I had Charles Boyer and Leslie Caron in backup. Oh,
I forgot Walter Slezak, who made opening a door funny. I just
think Rock had made too many of these films by then. But there
are some bits of slapstick I really like. There was a bit in
it where Rock tries to convince Leslie he’s dating another
man. It was an in-joke that Rock really got because he really
was dating a man.
To keep going I did "Texas Across
the River" (1966, which was a real dud. Dean Martin was
the very shaky star. He was always drinking and didn’t know
his lines and Alain Delon was this French import the studio insisted
would go over big with American audiences--only he didn’t.
What would people think of Joey Bishop as an Indian these days?
I couldn’t wait to finish it.
NAWDEN: Then came your biggest hit.
GORDON: Yes, "The Impossible Years" (1968). Of course,
we pitched it to Jimmy Stewart, but he said he’d already
done that with "Take Her, She’s Mine." So I took
David Niven, who is every bit as nimble at this type of comedy.
Lola Albright was the mom. Ozzie Nelson was the neighbor. Bill
Daniels photographed it. He always did Garbo films! It’s
very dated today, but I’m thinking a remake could change
all that. It was such a hit it saved MGM from bankruptcy for
the time being. At the time we thought we were pressing the button
just a bit but I agree it’s a delightful relic.
BAWDEN: Why did you stop making films after "How Do I Love
Thee?" (1970)?
GORDON: Because the inmates had taken over the asylum. Jackie
Gleason was continuously drunk on the set. Improvised most lines
and was unintelligible at times. He’s doing a scene with
Maureen O’Hara, who is sitting on a bench, and he falls
on top of her and crushed her hand and she required emergency
surgery. I don’t know if he ever said sorry he was in such
a state. Shelley Winters was standing there shaking her head
as vigorously as I was shaking mine. It was time to realize the
business had changed too much.
So I reluctantly tried TV. I did an episode of "Room 222" and one of "Nanny and the Professor" and this offer came from UCLA to teach. I wasn’t running away. I was running to something better. I’m now way over retirement age and still here most days prodding and encouraging and listening to this latest generation of filmmakers. And, who knows? Someday I may even get to discover the next Spielberg or, what would be astonishing, the next Chaplin. Or perhaps even the next Michael Gordon?
Michael Gordon died in 1993 at age 83.
©2011 by Jim Bawden. This column first posted Nov. 28, 2011.
TO ACCESS JIM BAWDEN'S ARCHIVE OF COLUMNS ON THIS SITE, CLICK HERE: BAWDEN ARCHIVE
You
can comment on this column online via our TALKBACK page. Please address your message to
either "The Editors" or Jim Bawden care of Syndpack @ aol.com
©2011 by Jim Bawden. This column first posted Nov. 28, 2011.
TO ACCESS JIM BAWDEN'S ARCHIVE OF COLUMNS ON THIS SITE, CLICK HERE: BAWDEN ARCHIVE
You
can comment on this column online via our TALKBACK page. Please address your message to
either "The Editors" or Jim Bawden care of Syndpack @ aol.com
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