Ann Sheridan: Hollywood's Oomph Girl

While her movie fame has been eclipsed by the mega-watt glare of Bette Davis, Katharine Hepburn and Joan Crawford, Ann Sheridan is no less revered by film historians and classic movie buffs of Hollywood’s Golden Age. She is perhaps the most versatile and talented of all the great movie actresses from that era. That she achieved stardom at all, despite overwhelming odds, is a testament to her indomitable Texan spirit and appealing screen personality. In the hard-hitting dramas They Drive by Night (1940) and Kings Row (1942), she was the no-nonsense, street-smart heroine who knew her way around in difficult situations. With her gift of tossing sarcastic, biting lines at a hapless recipient, she proved equally at home in comedy. Her comic performance in Torrid Zone (1940) is a gem. Likewise, her tart portrayal as Cary Grant’s wife in I Was a Male War Bride (1949) is sheer delight from the beginning to the final credits. Not to be overlooked are her complex, conflicted characters in the unjustly neglected film noir classics The Unfaithful (1947) and Woman on the Run (1950). If that wasn’t enough, it turned out the lady could sing in a voice pleasantly reminiscent of Alice Faye’s warm contralto. When she sang, she elevated the silliest plot contrivance in films like Navy Blues (1941) into a moment of unadulterated joy. 

Ann Sheridan had a tremendous appeal that went beyond a striking beauty and shapely figure. Just as she wouldn’t fit into a screen type, she would not be hampered by efforts to mold her into a sex symbol via the “Oomph Girl” label. As pal Humphrey Bogart noted in 1943, the label “has not affected her a bit; by hard work and determination to be a good actress she has managed to rise above it.” Yet it was the “Oomph Girl” designation that highlighted Sheridan’s zest for living life to the fullest. When Joseph Breen’s Production Code took effect in mid–1934, the sexy, playful and naughty qualities of actresses like Norma Shearer and Kay Francis were sanitized and a veneer of respectable glamour was heavily applied. With her breakthrough turn in It All Came True (1940), Sheridan flipped glamour off its high heels. In one fell swoop, the “Oomph Girl” brought sex back at full force onscreen.

Search for Beauty, based on the obscure play Love Your Body by Schuyler E. Grey and Paul R. Milton, was earmarked as a showcase for the American film debut of Ida Lupino. Lupino, billed as the “English Jean Harlow” later called the film “a darling little thing” and noted, “The greatest thing about it was that I met my best girlfriend, Ann Sheridan…. We were both so homesick. We didn’t want to be stars, we just wanted to meet some nice guy and settle down.” Sheridan likewise had fond memories of her association with Lupino. “Ida is a dear, close friend,” she told interviewer Ray Hagen. “I adore her. And she’s a damn fine actress, too.” Sheridan was one of 30 beauty contest winners who made their screen debut in Search for Beauty (1934). Only Sheridan achieved film stardom. Variety prophetically noted, “There’s a girl in an earlier sequence bit, Ann Sheridan, who should be an important screen personality someday if her work here is any criterion.” 

During the 1930s, three studios dominated: MGM, Paramount and Warner Brothers. In terms of star power and box office revenue, no other Hollywood studios came close. Each had its specialty. MGM produced lavish prestige films; Paramount offered sophisticated dramas and comedies, and Warners specialized in backstage musicals, raucous comedies and gritty melodramas “ripped from the headlines.” As child actor Sybil Jason reflected in her autobiography, “In the 1930s, Warner Brothers was like a well-cogged wheel that continually churned out a product that America and the rest of the world clamored for. While watching those movies today, we discover that a good percentage of them have a quality and an appeal that holds up in this era.” This is the main reason why many of Sheridan’s Warner Brothers features still deserve to be seen today.  Jane Wyman recalled in a 1995 Turner Classic Movies interview that working for Warner Brothers was like working as a family. “We all helped each other… and the big stars would help when we were working with them.” James Cagney told TV Guide in 1966, “When Ann came to Warners, she was just a nice kid—chumming around with the working staff… There was nothing aggressive about her.” 

“The good thing about working at Warner Brothers was the spirit at the studio,” Sheridan told John Kobal. “It was a very good group. An absolute family. It was just incredible.” In this environment, Sheridan flourished as a movie actress of box office value. Bogart was likewise fond of Sheridan because of her raunchy sense of humor and ability to out-drink him. Of course, he could not disclose these aspects of her personality publicly. In a 1943 article titled “Sister Annie,” Bogart said that when he met her for the first time on the set, she was a “scared kid, self-conscious and unsure of herself.” He took the time to coach her on her lines and helped ease her nervousness. This act of kindness endeared him to her and they became fast friends. “Sheridan is one of the nicest girls in Hollywood,” Bogart asserted, “because she is real, honest, unassuming, friendly, and natural.”  Edward Norris told Van Neste, “Annie was scared of the camera, she used to walk around the set with a bottle of Coke which was really rum in a Coke bottle. She was very nervous and upset.” During her Warner Brothers years, Sheridan was well-known for her excessive drinking on the set. “She used to be able to drink me under the table,” Norris marveled. “She was such a great gal, the love of my life!” Cagney proved especially helpful in coaching the young actress. “He was grand to me. I was so nervous about everything,” Sheridan told Modern Screen in 1940. In another interview, Sheridan revealed her admiration for Cagney’s professional conduct: “He’s the sort of star who will sit down with you and explain in detail why you should do a thing a certain way. He’ll give you the benefit of everything he’s learned.” Sheridan later became known for exhibiting the same kindness and courtesy to other actors. 

Sheridan was assigned to another inconsequential role in a Dick Powell musical comedy, Always Leave Them Laughing (apparently a favorite title at Warner Brothers as many musical comedies bore this title early in production). The film was based on the same-name original story by Richard Macaulay and Jerry Wald. By this time, Powell was tired of trifling stories like this one and decided not to renew his contract after seven years with the studio. When the film wrapped its shoot in mid–December, the executives, out of pure spite, put the film on the shelf with no intention of releasing it. Department head Bob Taplinger finally struck gold merely by changing the spelling of “umph” to “oomph.” He then staged a “contest” to spotlight the Hollywood actresses who best embodied “oomph.” The publicity stunt was rigged to crown Sheridan victor and boost publicity coverage for Warners. Taplinger assembled a panel of 25 judges (including Busby Berkeley, Bob Hope, Earl Carroll, the Earl of Warwick and Hollywood’s pre-eminent glamour photographer George Hurrell) to “select” the star most deserving of the coveted “Oomph Girl” title. Each contestant had to submit a photograph to be judged by the committee. Hurrell was commissioned by Warners to take Sheridan’s photographs. For the photo shoot, Sheridan recalled that her outfit “had a roll-back collar and long sleeves. It was a crepe negligee, covered all the way up.” 

Hurrell reminisced that Sheridan “was very good-natured about the whole thing. I played rumba and samba records and she was totally responsive. We laughed a good deal because the beauty mark, courtesy of Perc Westmore, kept sliding down her cheek from the heat of the lights.” Years later, Sheridan told Hagen that Hurrell “was the greatest.” Taplinger arranged an award dinner that was held at the Los Angeles Town House on March 16, during which Sheridan was officially declared the winner. Reflecting on that evening years later, she admitted, “It was one of those nerve-wracking things and I actually can’t remember very much of it.” She received a certificate and a bracelet along with the “Oomph Girl” title. It was revealed in 1945 that Jane Wyman and Margaret Lindsay were also under early consideration for the title. Many of the judges offered up their takes on what “Oomph” meant. Busby Berkeley stated, “Oomph is the quality that drives girls to stardom and men to distraction.”

Soon the term was being used to denote “a certain indefinable something, something that commands male interest.” In a 1940 Modern Screen article, Sheridan described her ideal man: He doesn’t have to be handsome, but not ugly, either. An older man, preferably, maybe around 35 or 40, ambitious, interesting, and with a sense of humor. Someone who would be a gentleman at all times, would be careful about his appearance and would not take me, or himself, too seriously! Enter George Brent. Sheridan’s lively personality managed to bring out Brent’s light-hearted nature. He even started frequenting night clubs with his new love. Brent revealed there were several qualities which drew him to Sheridan: “She works hard and enjoys life; she’s more fun to be with than any woman I have ever known; I think, on the whole, the quality of excitement which she possesses and generates is what makes her different from the standard glamour girls—that, and her earthy simplicity.” Sheridan found Brent intriguingly different from her usual night clubbing escorts. “He’s a lot of people—rebel, hard-working artist, playboy, hermit, intellectual, athlete … and what’s most disconcerting, he manages to be a combination of these things all at once. George has an enormous awareness, a flair for being very much alive during every waking hour.” While they shared much in common, it was the classic case of opposites attracting. 

Sheridan ranked as the 18th most popular box office draw in 1940 and was one of the studio’s top-drawing actresses behind Bette Davis. But her salary was hardly commensurate with her new box office standing. Warners was paying Bette Davis $4000 weekly and Olivia de Havilland $1250 weekly, while Sheridan earned a paltry $500; even her pal Ida Lupino was receiving $2000 per week. Based on the commercial successes of her 1940 features, the studio decreed that Sheridan would be given a raise which would bring her weekly salary up to $600 at her contract renewal on April 1, 1941. To Sheridan, this was no April Fool’s Joke. “When I realized that my pictures were making big money at the box office,” she explained to Photoplay, “it seemed no more than right to me that I should have a better salary, particularly in view of the fact that I had been promised raises several times, but hadn’t gotten them.” Sheridan was disgruntled by the studio’s lowball offer of $600 per week and insisted on $2000 weekly. Watching from the sidelines, Brent was displeased with how Warners was handling Sheridan’s career. He gallantly declared to Photoplay, “There is no doubt that, if she is given half a chance, she will become one of the foremost screen actresses. She has all the star qualities: beauty, vividness, intelligence, talent and above all, a realness that the cameras capture.” Having waged many battles of his own with Warners, Brent encouraged Sheridan to refuse all movie projects until her salary demands were met. Among the films she turned down: The Bride Came C.O.D. (replaced by Bette Davis), Million Dollar Baby (Priscilla Lane) and Out of the Fog (Ida Lupino). 

By early fall, the Sheridan-Brent romance continued to baffle Hollywood insiders and gossip columnists. Some predicted nuptials, while others foresaw the relationship’s demise. In a Photoplay article tantalizingly titled “George Tells Why, ‘Ann Sheridan and I Won’t Marry,’” Brent pointed out that the combination of two film careers and marriage rarely succeed. He offered as proof his three failed marriages and Sheridan’s own marriage to Norris. “We’re very happy as it is,” he said. Maude Cheatham told her readers, “This romance has steadied Ann: she’s gained poise and assurance from George’s strength and masculinity.” Cheatham also noticed a difference in Brent as he was “more approachable, laughs easily and often, and the old hurts seem to have faded away.” As the Sheridan-Brent romance was dissected in the gossip columns, Sheridan finally began preparations for her dream role: Randy Monaghan in Kings Row, the best role of her career. It would also provide the clearest rebuttal to those who had downplayed her dramatic abilities. Sheridan later told Hagen, “I loved it. I worked so hard, I worshipped the part.”

Asked about Bette Davis, Ann Sheridan said: “She was just—temperamental? Who wasn’t temperamental? All of us had the greatest admiration for her. She was the queen. One of my greatest, greatest favorites.” Upon the completion of both features, Sheridan barely had enough time to close her makeup kit before assuming a role previously turned down by Ida Lupino. The new project Juke Girl was based on a Theodore Pratt story, “Jook Girl,” which, in turn, was based on Pratt’s Saturday Evening Post article “Land of the Jook.” Motion Picture Herald marveled, “Kings Row comes to the screen as a star-studded, superbly mounted Warners production which has an emotional impact few pictures have ever had.” It emerged as the studio’s third highest grossing movie that year. With box office returns of over $5 million, the feature ranks today as Sheridan’s most financially successful film. Performances from top to bottom received excellent reviews. Dependable actors Rains, Coburn and Anderson garnered their usual fine notices. It was the younger actors, however, who caught the critics off guard. The biggest surprise of all was Sheridan. Motion Picture Herald effusively noted, “Miss Sheridan may now be forgotten as the ‘oomph girl’ and be billed as a top flight actress because of her characterization of Randy.” Variety was likewise impressed: “Miss Sheridan rises admirably to the emotional demands of the later scenes and gives one of her most effective performances thus far.” Photoplay called her portrayal one of the month’s best and the National Board of Review cited it as one of the best of the year. 

Sheridan’s Randy Monaghan rightfully remains one of her best dramatic performances. Kings Row received Oscar nominations for Best Picture, Best Director and Best Cinematography, Black-and-White (James Wong Howe). By mid–August, Sheridan was on location filming another wartime propaganda film, Edge of Darkness, opposite pal Errol Flynn. This situation did not sit well with Brent as rumors quickly circulated about a torrid affair between the two stars. Reportedly, Brent once discovered the two in bed and received a sound beating by Flynn for his untimely interruption. Brent made one final attempt at a reconciliation. Sheridan recalled to Screenland that Brent hadn’t spoken to her for a month. His main complaint: She was more concerned about her career than their marriage. After Brent had finished, Sheridan accepted the futility of the situation and simply stated, “Well, George, it looks like this is it.” It was decided that Sheridan would contact Alex Evelove, the head of Warners’ publicity department and give him a statement for the newspapers. In late December, Sheridan traveled to Mexico for a divorce decree. She was granted her freedom on January 5, 1943, by Civil Judge Acuna Pardo in Cuernavaca. She had been married to Brent for exactly one year. She still maintained a friendly relationship with her ex, Norris, but Sheridan never resumed her friendship with Brent and they rarely spoke well of each other in private. Sheridan often referred to their marriage as a mistake. Once, near the end of her life, she publicly admitted, “I can’t stand my ex-husband.”

For his part, Brent chose to remain tight-lipped about his four former wives. When Don Stanke interviewed him in the 1970s for the book The Debonairs, Brent took the opportunity to reflect on Sheridan’s passing: “What a waste of what could have been a good life.” Sure enough, it was soon discovered that the pitchers of “iced water” that both Sheridan and Errol Flynn drank from on the set actually contained pure 90-proof vodka. Sheridan had also learned from Flynn the trick of injecting vodka into oranges, which she ate on the set. According to Longstreet, “The stars’ behavior resulted in delays, which led to cost overruns, which forced the studio heads to declare Silver River finished. It is the only major studio film I know of for which there is no ending.” By late 1948, her special friendship with her publicist Steve Hannagan was in a rut with no foreseeable resolution. Hannagan had been pressuring Sheridan to give up her acting career and move to the East Coast. There was also the occasional rumor that Hannagan had become jealous of her friendships with several handsome, younger men. All of the expensive gifts could not buy her faithfulness, even though he professed a willingness to overlook her indiscretions. Hannagan headed the nation’s top publicity agency; its biggest client was the Union Pacific Railroad. Although he was in a financial situation to support both of their lavish lifestyles, she was not ready to entertain the notion of giving up her career. 

“I’d like another five years in pictures with good stories,” she said. Sheridan wasted little time in playing the field with the likes of Bill Cagney (James’ brother), Franchot Tone, Cesar Romero and Bruce Cabot. She was at the peak of her beauty and had little trouble attracting men. Rex Harrison was one of many who found her enchanting. “I was struck by her extraordinary magnetism and directness,” Harrison said. “Her distinctive quality of earthiness that never transcends to blatant sexiness.” Sheilah Graham took a rather perverse interest in chronicling the star’s romantic escapades in the gossip columns and magazine features, including one called “Annie, Get Your Guy” for Modern Screen magazine. When asked by Graham if she ever intended to re-marry and settle down, Sheridan replied, “I am too busy to settle down. And why must I get married? A woman can have an enduring friendship with a man and not be married to him, I hope. I like being single because I have so many things to do.” The most persistent suitor was set designer Jacques Mapes, who met Sheridan on the Good Sam set. Sheridan enjoyed Mapes’ sense of humor and good looks. Mapes said he found Ann’s sense of humor “one of her most remarkable qualities. That, and her complete honest sincerity about people and everything she does.” 

Ann Sheridan made her television debut on The Ed Wynn Show on February 11, 1950. Her friend Lucille Ball, who also made her TV debut on that show, may have convinced Sheridan that the new form of entertainment would provide her a new career. The Variety TV critic reported favorably on Sheridan’s brief appearance: “Ann Sheridan, one of the top-billed film stars yet to appear on television proved again the old adage that a talented performer in any part of show business will show well on tv.” In January 1953, Steve Hannagan was on a trip promoting Coca-Cola products in several countries in Europe and Africa. After his arrival in Nairobi on February 2, he cancelled a dinner engagement with famed author Robert Ruark. Hannagan explained that he was experiencing uncomfortable pressure in his chest. Ruark arranged for him to see a local doctor. The next morning, Hannagan was found on the bathroom floor, dead at the age of 53. His body was wrapped like a mummy in preparation to be flown to New York City. A funeral mass, held at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, was attended by over 1500 mourners, including film and stage personalities, presidents of major corporations, business associates and close friends. When Sheridan learned of Hannagan’s death, she was devastated. After a few days, she mustered up the strength to issue a statement for the press: "Once in a while the world is blessed with a man born with great understanding. This is attested to by the number of true friends he gathers during his life. Such a man was Steve Hannagan. My personal loss and feelings, which are extremely deep, must therefore be shared by many others around the world by those who knew, loved and were influenced by the greatness of this man." -"Ann Sheridan: The Life and Career of  Hollywood's Oomph Girl" (2024) by Michael D. Rinella