When June Allyson met Dick Powell (June Allyson's autobiography)

Dick Powell and Rosemary Lane in the film 'Hollywood Hotel' (1937) directed by Busby Berkeley

At that point Rosemary [Lane] called up to me - "Come on down and meet Dick Powell, honey." I guess I came down pigeontoed -Joan Blondell said so later and it's true I still walk that way. Rosemary said, "Junie, this is someone who asked to meet you -Dick Powell." I looked up, way up, and put out my hand and he held it, grinning down at me, "So here's the little girl with the funny voice." I just continued looking up at him as he held my hand. My mouth was open, but nothing was coming out. I was not uncomfortable, though, and broke into a smile. Vaguely I became aware that his wife, Joan Blondell, was also there, but no one introduced us and quickly the moment passed and someone else was grabbing Dick and talking to him.

Joan's account of this meeting -in 'Center Door Fancy', a fictionalized autobiography- is loaded against me. Most of the names have been changed, but the true identities are painfully obvious. Blondell is Nora, David is first husband George Barnes, Jim is Dick Powell, Amy is me, Teresa is Marion Davies, and Jeff is Mike Todd. She wrote that I simpered and came down the steps pigeon-toed and cooed that I slept with his letter under my pillow every night. I had no letter. I never wrote a fan letter. I had no picture or letter from him or any star. It was ridiculous, but then, so was her charge that I had stolen her husband away -starting that night. Dick Powell recorded his own account of our first meeting in his diary, and it differs substantially from Joan's: "Why I bother to put this down I don't know except that she certainly is the cutest thing anybody ever saw. Last night, I went to catch 'Best Foot Forward' and there was this little blonde character named June Allyson who sang so loud that the veins stood out on her neck like garden hose. I sat and guffawed through the whole routine. Really a funny act although I don't know if the producer meant it that way. Anyway, this afternoon I had to attend a formal luncheon and I got stuck with the most stubborn hunk of chicken I've ever had the displeasure of eating. It took all my attention and I was struggling with it until I guess my face turned red. Then, suddenly, I felt someone's eyes on me and I looked up. And there was this same cute little character from the show last night and she was convulsed with laughter. Laughing at me! I don't know whether or not I particularly like that girl -but she sure is cute."

Dick Powell, Benny Goodman and Rosemary Lane relax between takes of "The Hollywood Hotel" (1937)

The backstage visit of Dick Powell certainly raised my status in the company. Suddenly Rosemary Lane drew closer to me, sharing many confidences about her dear friend Dick Powell -how nice he was, how unlike the usual arrogant movie star. She was fascinated that he had singled me out from everyone and insisted on meeting me. So was I.

One night, between acts of Best Foot Forward, I heard the cast talking excitedly about Hollywood -"Have you heard the news?" "We're all going to Hollywood. Best Foot Forward is going to be made into a movie by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer." Sadly, Rosemary Lane was left behind. Instead MGM was using the sexy, tall, redhead Lucille Ball.

Dear Rosemary Lane of the famous Lane Sisters - she treated me with kindness and never with the condescension other stars reserve for chorus and featured players. I would miss her. I would miss everyone. And New York. And Broadway. And Willoughby's, where I'd emoted for hours trying to pick the right camera for my dear Tommy. I was going to Hollywood and he was going to war. Who knew where he would be going, but this was 1943 and as he put it, "Nothing lasts forever." As I sat in the train, excited yet fearful about the future, I realized that I knew two people in Hollywood and wondered if I would ever see them again. The first, I had just barely met -Dick Powell. The second, I had dated and he had gotten to Hollywood a year ahead of me -in 1942- Van Johnson. Of course they hadn't been what you would call romantic dates. I told him, "People are always thinking there's something wrong with my voice, that I have a sore throat or something." Van predicted my voice would help me make it big and called it my "million dollar laryngitis." I'd have settled for a half million.

Gloria DeHaven, June Allyson and Van Johnson in "Two Girls And A Sailor" (1944) directed by Richard Thorpe

Gloria DeHaven and I would eventually become very good friends, but the person who was most important to me in that critical year was a tall, slightly tough talking but glamorous redhead who would be in three movies with me before the year was up. In 1943, when I met Lucille Ball, she had not yet turned herself into the wacky wife of I Love Lucy fame but was dressed and coiffed and turned out as a dazzling showgirl type in her role as the haughty motion picture star.

I remember telling Lucille Ball "I'd like to recognize where I'm going. I think it's nowhere." Next to Judy Garland, Lucy had become my best friend, and she would not let me leave Hollywood in 1943, when I was beginning to fear I might never be anything more than a bit player, singing a song and throwing up with nervousness afterward. "You can't go," Lucy told me. "You've worked too hard to get here and you're going to make it. Look at me." Then she launched into stories of her past, how she had been a stagestruck kid like me who had come to New York at fifteen to study drama. "The school wouldn't take me because I was too much of a shrinking violet to be an actress," she said, adding, "Yeah, yeah, it's hard to believe and look at me now. And once I got to Hollywood nobody could make me go home."

The way she had gotten to Hollywood was that she became a model and was discovered by a Hollywood agent who spotted her in a Chesterfield cigarette ad. She had been told she could be a chorus girl in Roman Scandals if she would leave for Hollywood immediately; she was on the next train. The 1933 Eddie Cantor musical was her start. We were sitting on the sidelines that day, watching Kathryn Grayson sing. Lucy turned and fixed me with a hard stare. "Are you crazy? You just settle down and dig your toes in. Don't you dare run away. Where would you go, anyway?" "Back to New York," I said, "Well, you can't jump back and forth. You're here now and you're going to stay. I won't let you go back. You're going to laugh at this someday."

I was watching my friend Lucille do a scene from Meet the People one day when I became aware of someone I had seen before. Dick Powell. There was a box on wheels about fifteen feet away with a telephone mounted on it and he was standing there talking on the phone and smiling at me. I had to get a closer look. I walked over and stood nearby, staring at those incredible blue eyes. He put his hand over the receiver and said, "What's the matter? Is something wrong?" "Oh no. I'm just waiting to use the phone." I was crushed. He seemed he hadn't even recognized me. He didn't remember he had wanted to meet me backstage in New York? All right, he didn't know my name so I pretended I didn't know his. Should I remind Dick Powell that he had asked Rosemary Lane to introduce us? I was too shy to. I soon found out why he was at MGM. He was going to be the star in the upcoming 'Meet the People'. Dick suddenly invited several starlets and young actors from the People cast to his home for a barbecue. He was just being kind. He knew we had no money. I learned it was typical of Dick Powell to befriend beginners. Jane Powell, he told me, had taken both his advice and his name -for luck. Her real name was Suzanne Bruce and she had asked him if he'd mind if she took his name. "Jane Powell is a fantastic talent," he said. "I was happy to advise her." Eventually I told Dick how hurt I'd felt when he hadn't recognized me at the portable phone and he just laughed, implying he had been kidding me. There was still no romance. I had been planning to leave Hollywood, but that was all behind me now that I had Dick Powell as my mentor.

Joan Blondell had been a vaudeville brat, traveling as a child with her touring parents through Europe, Australia and the Orient. Her father, Eddie Blondell, was one of the original Katzenjammer Kids. Joan had been Miss Dallas when she was only seventeen. I guess I made a mistake when I called Dick Powell at home. Joan answered and she seemed to be in a bad mood. I said Dick had given me his number to call if I needed help. She did not seem interested in what my trouble could be and irritably called Dick to the phone. Then she came back on and said, with biting sarcasm, "You want my husband? Well, you can have him." Dick was on the phone and I tried to hide my embarrassment as I said, "I've got a script from MGM and they want me to do this picture called 'Two Girls and a Sailor.' He was like a god to me, someone who knew everything. He was older and wiser. I was in awe of him. He called me on Thursday and said, "I'd like to talk to you about this part." I said, "Okay," thinking he meant to talk at the studio. He suggested the Brown Derby for lunch. As we sat down he startled me. "I don't want your feelings to be hurt," he said, "but you can't play the part they want you to play. You have to play the plain sister." "I can't believe what I'm hearing," I said, poking at my Cobb Salad. 'Gloria is a real beauty. So what I want you to do is go in and tell Mr. Mayer that you want to test for the role of the plain sister." I was terrified. Me go in and tell Papa Mayer what to do? Richard was going merrily along, ignoring the dismayed look on my face. "And when he agrees, which you will make him do, I want you to go home and cut off your hair. Just straight across bangs and straight sides and don't use any makeup in the test." It was hard to cut my hair but I did it and again Dick Powell had been right. Papa Mayer saw the test and called me in. "You are absolutely right," he beamed. "We are switching the roles."

Joan Blondell was convinced that I was after her husband. I wasn't, even though Dick Powell gave me palpitations and shortness of breath just to look at him. I tried not to think of him -except as my mentor. Every major actress gets whispered about, usually at about the time she first hits it big. With me it was the nymphomaniac thing. "She's not Goody Two Shoes, she's Goody Round Heels," said the malicious rumors. Someone had to explain to me what "round heels" meant -a girl easily toppled backward into bed. This kind of thing hurts but it goes with the territory of being a celebrity. If Papa Mayer heard this rumor, he dismissed it.

Van Johnson and I went out on a series of official dates -to premieres and industry functions -arranged by the studio. Eventually we were to see the phenomenon of joint Van Johnson-June Allyson fan clubs. Van was a national craze and teenage heartthrob and I had my first taste of mass hysteria as his frequent date -his fans waited in the hundreds wherever we went. Some nights were so bad we didn't dare leave the studio-there was that kind of unruly crowd outside the gates at Culver City. I was always amused at the irony of our big romance which MGM manufactured. While all the intimate details were fabricated by the publicity department, Van and I continued our platonic friendship. The fan magazines especially liked the combination of Van Johnson and me and were panting for a marriage. After 'Two Girls and a Sailor' Van Johnson and I did so many war movies together that the studio joke was that no one would ever know how many missions Van had flown over my dressing room. But the only man who really made my heart flutter was, of course, Dick Powell.

For a short time I dated Jack Kennedy. I didn't know his father was an ambassador and I certainly didn't know I was being pursued by a future President of the United States. He was just a very thin, tall fellow with a boyish grin and nice eyes. My impression was that he was under contract to Metro or wanted to be. We had seen each other around the studio and one day he asked me to dinner and took me to a nice place. It wasn't even Dutch treat, he paid all the expenses. And we laughed a lot. He reminded me of Peter Lawford -both had the same charm and fun-loving ways.

The headline said, JOAN BLONDELL AND DICK POWELL SEPARATE. That was the way Richard told me that he and Joan were through. I suddenly remembered the phone call when Joan had answered. But I said nothing. I was walking on air. He took me to Sardi's and a lot of people looked at us rather strangely, having seen the headlines, too. I noticed Dick didn't seem nervous when Walter Winchell stopped by our table to chat. So began our courtship. When I got back to Los Angeles, he started taking me to many parties. He wasn't hiding anything but it was a delicate situation. People at the studio stopped smiling at me, registering their disapproval without saying anything. I was madly in love with Richard -by now I was calling him Richard though I was the only one who ever did. Now we were even more careful of where we were seen in public -I knew I shouldn't appear to be flaunting my love in the disapproving face of Papa Mayer. One place that became our refuge was Lucy Ball's home. She welcomed me into her inner circle of friends.

Richard presented me with my first gift-a book, 'Messer Marco Polo' by Donn Byrne. He had owned it for many years -it was copyrighted 1921- and treasured it and he wanted me to read it and be inspired by it too. Richard made a little speech about how the great Venetian adventurer had amazed the world by sailing to China in the thirteenth century. "Make only big plans," he told me. I kept it beside my bed and when I got to page 44, I saw that he had written my name in the margin and was deeply touched as I read: "She is not a cold beautiful princess... she is warm as the sun in early June, and she may be beautiful and a princess, but we all think of her as Golden Bells, the little girl in the Chinese garden." I realized I had a take-charge guy. Soon after I started dating Richard, I found my whole lifestyle changing. He insisted I move to a larger apartment -one with a bedroom- and hire a housekeeper to look after me. And he was determined to protect my reputation.

Now that I was a star, I was wondering what had taken me so long, but others were saying "meteoric rise" and "overnight success." It didn't matter. The main thing was I finally felt I belonged. I loved the premieres, the parties, the role of the movie star, even if I couldn't believe it had happened to me. Richard warned, "Believe me, it wears off. Honey, I've been through it -and not just once."

Dick Powell, Miles Mander and Anne Shirley in "Murder, My Sweet" (1944) directed by Edward Dmytryk

Richard had helped me with my career and now he wanted my thinking on something important to him. "I have a script I want you to read," he said. "I really want your opinion of what you think of it." "The title is Murder, My Sweet. Isn't that great?" "Yeah, it sounds pretty sinister." I read the script and loved it. "It couldn't be more exciting," I told Richard the next night. "Who's supposed to play in it?" "Me," he said. "Can you see me as the tough private eye?" "Heavens, never. That would be terrible. That isn't you at all. Don't do it. You'll be ruined. Everybody will laugh at you." Richard didn't argue with me. Instead he just took back the script. Soon afterward I read in the trades that he had been signed to star as detective Philip Marlowe. It was a good thing that he hadn't taken my advice because 'Murder, My Sweet' was a smash hit and marked the start of a new career for Dick Powell in tough-guy roles.

Dick Powell and Ginger Rogers in "Twenty Million Sweethearts" (1934) directed by Ray Enright

I borrowed a scrapbook from his dad and learned about Richard's early career; his romantic triumphs were also featured. Glamour and sophistication were obviously what he was used to. Richard had been linked romantically with his co-star in '20 Million Sweethearts', Ginger Rogers. Then there was his co-star in 'Dames', Ruby Keeler. When Ruby was separated from Al Jolson, she stirred up a minor scandal by moving to a house near Richard's bachelor pad. And then there was Rosemary Lane. They had been a continuing romantic saga in the press. Richard had snatched another beauty from the arms of Buddy Rogers, the actor who later married Mary Pickford. That was actress Mary Brian, whom he had started to date when he was master of ceremonies at the Stanley Theater in Pittsburgh and she had been booked as a visiting Hollywood star. Richard had certainly given Lew Ayres a run for his money when he was dating Ginger Rogers. One columnist wrote, "Dick, they say, wants all of Ginger's time. And he gets it. He doesn't even want Ginger to see Lew, so that looks serious on Dick's part."

And hadn't he married glamour gal Joan Blondell? Obviously he preferred sophistication. I went to Bullock's and bought a slinky black gown, long false eyelashes and other paraphernalia and I put my hair up. Richard was taking me to Ciro's and I was ready. But when he saw me, he was speechless. He slumped on a couch in the living room. He pulled me down on his lap. Richard grabbed me and started smooching. "Whew, you scared me this time," he said. "If I want sophistication I know where to find it. I'm here because being around you is like being in a fresh breeze. So don't go dramatic on me, right?" "Yes, sir," I said. "Goody Two Shoes reporting for duty." "Let's go," he said. "No, wait a minute." He kissed me again. "Monkeyface, I love you."

Dick Powell and Humphrey Bogart get a few pointers on operation of a roulette wheel from John Barrett, technical adviser on Dick Powell's Columbia picture "Johnny O'Clock". Bogart was working on an adjoining sound stage in "Dead Reckoning" (1947)

Richard and I and Bogie and Betty Bacall were courting at the same time -and on boats- and that brought the four of us together. Richard and Bogie became close friends and Betty and I became friends but not exactly intimates. We were just too different. I admired Lauren Bacall for the way she had stormed Hollywood. We had one enormous thing in common besides boats, in that both Lauren and I were overshadowed by our men and let them run the show and our lives. One day on the Santana, Bogie looked over at Betty and me sitting on the deck and said to Richard, with his slightly sardonic smile, "Look at them. We had to pick the two babes with the croakingest voices in Hollywood."

They sounded like they hated each other but all you had to do was look at Bogie to see he worshiped Betty. When he looked at her he seemed to be feeling "This is my world." And her love for Bogie was a beautiful thing to see. Later, when Humphrey Bogart became so ill with cancer, Betty was great and never pampered him. We went over to visit when Bogie could no longer walk downstairs and an elevator had been installed. Bogie rode down for his cocktail hour and Betty talked just as tough to him as ever- "Damn it, get your own drink." She never made him feel like an invalid -she never stopped being the Betty he loved. She seemed so calm and collected, but she didn't fool me.

I had seen the real Betty when we filmed "Woman's World" together and were doing a scene in which we each had to pick up a champagne glass and turn and survey the room. I looked at Betty's glass and her hand was shaking -I couldn't believe it. She saw my look and whispered, off camera, "I'm so nervous." That was when I realized Lauren Bacall did not have the inner security she displayed to the world. Inside, she was very vulnerable. When Betty wrote her memoir I found it so painful I had to keep putting the book down -it was too much like my own story.

Lana Turner and June Allyson, co-stars in "The Three Musketeers" (1948) directed by George Sidney

The Hollywood gossips were persisting in their notion that I was a hot number. There were so many rumors by now that I was the playgirl of the western world that I simply gave up denying anything. I confided in Lana Turner at MGM and she consoled me by saying, "After reading about the twentieth new romance I'm supposed to be having this month, all I can say is I only wish I had the time." Papa Mayer summoned me to his office in the middle of my misery and shingles and pointed an accusatory finger at me. "You are still dating Dick Powell." I nodded yes. "I want it to stop," he said, I nodded no. "I love Richard. I really do." Richard and I went into hiding. I spent more time on the boat and at Lucille Ball's house. I wanted to blurt out, "Look, fellah, you're divorced and you're not talking about marriage and I demand to know why."

We danced a little to the music of a small band. His kisses seemed unusually sweet that night. I knew that if we kept on this way I was either going to be very hurt or what was currently called "a fallen woman." That night Richard opened the car door and started to get out. He always came around to help me out, but this time I stopped him before his foot hit the ground. "Wait a minute," I heard myself saying. "I just want to ask you something." He slammed the door. "I knew something was wrong. What is it?" "Well, I would like to know what your intentions are." Richard nodded then and said, "You want to know about marriage." "Yes, I do." Richard said, "Oh, honey, I love you very, very much but I have no intention of ever getting married again." "Well, in that case I don't think we should see each other again." I got out of the car by myself and bid him a cavalier goodnight with a wave of my hand. My back was turned so he couldn't see the front view of that lighthearted wave. "Do you have any better offers?" he called out the window. "Two," I said defiantly and stumbled up the porch steps with tears streaming down my face. I had one -Tommy- but two seemed the least a girl should have at a time like this. The phone rang at the usual time and I said with a tearful voice, "Helllllooo." He said, "It's me. Have you got home safely?" And still sobbing, I said, "Ffffine. That's ffffine." "Are you crying?" His voice sounded a little disgusted and I said, "Certainly not." He said, "Oh, for God's sake," and hung up. Later there was a pounding on the door. When I opened it, Richard came in like a tired man who has had it. He plopped himself on the couch and said, "All right. If you want to get married, we'll get married." Wearily, he added, "You know I love you." I threw my arms around him. "I love you too, Tommy." Richard pulled away from me and gave me a dirty look. "Who the hell is Tommy?" I started to explain but suddenly Richard was roaring with laughter and so was I. "When would you like to get married?" he said, sobering up. It was late July. I said, "Is August too soon?" That broke him up completely.

We planned to be married August 19, 1945, and Bonnie and Johnny Green generously insisted we use their home in Holmby Hills for the big event. John was MGM's musical director and Bonnie had become like family to me. They would have to serve as family for both of us. Richard's father was now in a nursing home and my mother had just remarried and said she couldn't make the trip West. Oddly, I seemed to be having second thoughts about marrying Richard. "I feel so strange," I told him. "You know, everybody is saying you left Joan for me and I'm the home-breaker. The villain." "I know it and I'm sorry," Richard said, "but I can't go around shouting that it isn't true and that she left me first for Mike Todd. I hope they'll be very happy together but I doubt it." He was right about that.

When Joan Blondell and Mike Todd finally married in 1947, it turned out to be a stormy relationship riddled with financial problems and lasting only three years. The day I met Mike Todd years later -the only time I saw him- I really put my foot in it. There was a whole group standing around at a party and Mike was with Elizabeth Taylor and when I was introduced to him, I wanted to say something friendly. "Oh, Mike," I purred. "You and I have so much in common. We're practically family, you know." He was looking at me so blankly that I felt compelled to forge on. "You used to be married to my husband's wife, Joan Blondell." His eyes turned to steel and he gave me the dirtiest look I'd ever seen and turned away without a word. I felt terrible. Mike Todd must have forgotten that for a moment in the '40's he and Joan Blondell had made each other happy.

June Allyson as Jo in "Little Women" (1949) directed by Mervyn LeRoy

In 'Center Door Fancy', Joan gave me the name of Amy, possibly after the selfish sister in 'Little Women' who steals Jo's boyfriend and marries him. How bitter she must have been to have written about me: "Doesn't he know about his Amy? Everybody else does. Her reputation is in the public domain. She's a tramp dressed like a little kid. She was a call girl in New York -exhibitions her specialty." I could not believe it. How untrue, and how cruel.

Richard's best man was A. Morgan Maree, who handled Richard's money -and who, by now, also handled mine, though what it was being invested in only Richard knew. Of course no Hollywood wedding is complete without one's agent and so my agent, Johnny Hyde, was there. He wasn't just my agent, he represented a lot of stars including Linda Darnell. But he would become famous as Marilyn Monroe's boyfriend, who wrecked his own frail health over her career. I loved having tiny Johnny there, not just because he was a friend but because he made me feel tall in comparison. I was proud to be on the arm of Papa Mayer, head of the whole studio, from whom all blessings flowed. I looked around at all these people dear to me and I almost choked up. Jane Wilkie, my maid of honor, Richard in his business suit; Bess, a very proper lady in black hat and dress with old-fashioned white collar, and Bonnie and John, who had even lent their home. The judge was saying something but I was confused- "Do you take this man... "Who?" There were chuckles around me. "Oh yes, yes," I said.

After a reception at the LaRue restaurant, we were at last going home -to our home. We got to the apartment -the big apartment that would be home for a while -and I spent as much time as I could in the bathroom getting ready. I had bought a knockout wedding nightgown -white satin with a filmy white robe and satin slippers. I was not a virgin but I still was a bundle of nerves, so I suggested to Richard if he wanted a biscuit snack. He just said: "Honey, jump to bed now. Forget the biscuits." The next day he took me to the Santana, and there we had our second wedding night in broad daylight. What had I been afraid of? This was truly the gold at the end of the rainbow. I didn't want to get off the boat, ever. But in three days, we got an urgent call from the nursing home. We arrived to find doctor and nurses frantically working over his father, and the doctor hitting him over and over in the chest. Richard took me outside and said, "I don't want you to see this." Two hours later Richard came out and said, "He's gone." And so was our honeymoon. I'd prayed: "Don't let this happen to me with Richard." Something was telling me that there was nothing I could do about it and this was the shadow of other things to come. -from the autobiography "June Allyson" by June Allyson (1983)

Dick Powell reinventing himself as the tough detective type and Four Star's founder

Mary Brian and Dick Powell, co-stars in "Blessed Event" (1932). They were also a couple for a short period of time during the 1930's. Dick Powell was considered one of Hollywood's most eligible bachelors after his memorable performance in "Blessed Event". "He always seemed to be in good humor. He gave the impression of always enjoying what he was doing." -Mary Brian "Blessed Event" DVD Actors: Dick Powell, Mary Brian, Lee Tracy, Allen Jenkins Format: Colour, DVD-Video, NTSC Language: English Region: Region 1 (US and Canada DVD formats.) Aspect Ratio: 4:3 - 1.33:1 Studio: Warner Bros. Digital Dist. DVD Release Date: February 21, 2012

 

Madeleine Carroll and Dick Powell in "On The Avenue" (1937) directed by Roy Del Ruth "On The Avenue" DVD Actors: Dick Powell, Madeleine Carroll, Alice Faye. Region 2. Studio: 20th Century Fox. DVD Release Date: September 24, 2012. Playing the role of Pamela in Alfred Hitchcock 1935 The 39 Steps spread Madeleine Carroll's fame beyond Britain and Hollywood came calling. Paramount Pictures secured her contract and she starred in The General Died at Dawn with Gary Cooper. Her next few pictures would all be on loan out to the recently formed 20th Century Fox (Lloyds of London), Columbia (It's All Yours) and David O. Selznick (The Prisoner of Zenda). It was 20th Century Fox that cast Madeleine in her one and only musical, Irving Berlin's On the Avenue. Powell plays Gary Blake, the writer and star of a new Broadway revue, not dissimilar to Irving Berlin's 1933 hit As Thousands Cheer. The love story between the songwriter and the upper crust girl somewhat mirrors the love story of Irving Berlin and Ellen Mackay, the Comstock Lode heiress. Disinherited from her father's will, Ellen and Irving shared a 62 year marriage, 3 daughters, 1 son and Berlin's "royalties". Take that, daddy-dear!

In the hands of the wrong actress or director the Mimi character could come off as just another spoiled rich girl raging against the world. Fortunately, Roy Del Ruth's experience and taste combined with comedic chops dating back to days with Sennett and such gems as The Broadway Melody of 1936, keep the plot light and breezy. Madeleine Carroll's extraordinary beauty immediately wins her audience favour, but it is also the light of intelligence in her eyes and her gracious way of speaking that keeps us on her side. Madeleine plays the comedy with charming nuance, although  Mimi can be stubborn and petulant. Dick Powell exceels as the playful playwrigth Gary Blake, generating genuine sparkles with Carroll. Irving Berlin composed six tunes for On the Avenue, several sung magnifically by Dick Powell, delivering his great tenor skills, in the context a Broadway Revue.

Producer Darryl F. Zanuck borrowed Dick Powell from Warner Bros. to headline this Irving Berlin musical which co-starred Madeleine Carroll and Alice Faye in a surprisingly semi-villainous role as the other woman in the piece. Mona, who now schemes to get Mimi out of the picture. Mona makes sure that Mimi, her father (George Barbier) and Aunt Fritz (Cora Witherspoon) are in the audience one night when she again does the contested satirical number. This time she makes it even more obvious that it is a send-up of the Caraway clan. The incensed Caraways sue Gary. Mimi then purchases the show from its producer (Walter Catlett) and alters Gary’s role to make him look foolish. She also pays the audience to walk out on the revue. Gary refuses to continue with the show. Mimi is scheduled to marry Sims (Alan Mowbray), an Arctic explorer, but Aunt Fritz realizes that Gary and Mimi are really in love. She sees to it that the couple wed in city hall, while Mona begins romancing Mimi’s affluent father. Source: The Great Hollywood Musical Pictures (2016) by James Robert Parish

 

Dick Powell and Jane Greer in "Station West" (1948) directed by Sidney Lanfield "Station West" DVD Region: Region 2 Format: Dolby, PAL Actors: Dick Powell, Jane Greer, Agnes Moorehead, Tom Powers Studio: Odeon Entertainment DVD Release Date: December 3, 2012

 

Sam Peckinpah and Steve McQueen filming "The Getaway" (1972). "Four Star Productions", founded by Dick Powell, was very different for Sam Peckinpah from the big studios. "Dick Powell was a very honorable guy", said Frank Baur, vicepresident in charge of production at the time. "He gave a lot of fellows chances, like myself and Sam Peckinpah among others. He was a very hardworking, graceful man." Peckinpah recalled in 1978: "Working with Mr. Powell fortunately (and unfortunately) left its mark on me. Why? Because we had the best crews, the best staff. I've never been able to find people like that since." In early 1959, Powell comissioned Peckinpah to write and direct a half-hour pilot that if successful would be promoted as a series under the title "Winchester". "I did this one script for Gunsmoke", Peckinpah recalled, "that Charles Marquin Warren turned down. Dick Powell at Four Star bought it as the pilot for The Rifleman. I went along with the property as part of the bargain. Dick Powell was a really fine gentleman and the eagle behind Four Star's success. He helped me a great deal." -"If They Move, Kill 'Em!: The Life and Times of Sam Peckinpah" (2001) by David Weddle and "Peckinpah: A Portrait in Montage" (2004) by Garner Simmons

 

Dick Powell and Steve McQueen in 1960. Steve McQueen was the star of "Wanted: Dead or Alive" TV series, a Western show which was produced by Dick Powell's Four Star Productions. On one occasion, McQueen arrived five hours late to the set; Powell, who was one of Hollywood's power players and a true gentleman, explained to McQueen in simple terms he was never to pull that stunt again: "We are a factory, and you are part of the ensemble. We tell you what lines you must follow, how you're wrapped, presented, and that's how the cookie crumbles." Stuntman Fred Krone said it was the only time he saw McQueen humbled. Powell did eventually make a concession for McQueen by pushing the start time of his shoot half an hour later to 7:45 A.M. "I've got a mental block about getting up early", McQueen explained, "I have had it since I got out of the Marines." -"Steve McQueen: The Life and Legend of a Hollywood Icon" (2010) by Marshall Terrill

 

Claire Trevor and Dick Powell in "Murder, My Sweet" (1944) directed by Edward Dmytryk "We both bought airplanes and we learned to fly together and we used to go off sometimes into the desert to some stop you know for breakfast or something. He loved all those kind of things." -Edward Dmytryk on his relationship with Dick Powell

 

"In the thirties, the sense of equality and mutuality between romantic leads seemingly grew out of classical style and editing, symmetrical two-shot compositions, the contribution of women coscenarists, and the peculiarities of the star system. In the forties, the male-female equilibrium wavers without quite collapsing. The chemistry, which beings to weaken in the fifties and sixties, is still there, but in different proportions and compounds, seeming less romantic and less innocent, sexier and more perverse. In the forties, there are a number of films where there are few women featured, and others like the noir films that are chock-full of them. In movies like "Johnny O'Clock", "The Big Sleep" and "Out of the Past", women come out of the woodwork - tough women, good women, bad women - to haunt the detective or hero". -"The Treatment of Women in the Movies" (1987) by Molly Haskell

 

Dick Powell and Joan Blondell made ten films together during their careers, being the last one "Model Wife" (1941)

   

Ruby Keeler and Dick Powell in "Gold Diggers of 1933", a pre-code Warner Bros. musical film directed by Mervyn LeRoy in 1933 Dick felt trapped at Warner Bros., both by his contract and by the man-boy image the studio insisted for him. Though he loved singing profesionally and he practiced daily his scales around the house, the yard, and even in the shower, he moaned: “I’m 32 and I’m still playing boy scouts.” When Powell refused to appear in another routine Busby Berkeley musical, Jack Warner put him on twelve-week suspension.

 

And perhaps his feelings for studio typecasting ironically commented on his approach to sex. It usually happened on Friday nights and was signaled by Dick making eye contact with Joan, then hitching his eyebrows twice. Then a long and thorough preparatory cleansing followed— mouthwash, shower, hair combed, nails clipped—before pajamaclad foreplay.

 

Powell was a wonderful father to Norman and Ellen. Dick usually kept a sunny disposition: He tinkered around the house, helping the kids build model planes or play musical instruments. Joan appreciated that Dick’s boyish charm belied a clever businessman.

A sort of weariness had settled into their five-year marriage. No longer were they on the town arm in arm. Now they were stepping out separately, offering excuses of family duties or the flu to account for the oft-absent spouse. Dick went alone to see "Best Foot Forward" at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre and was taken with sprightly young cast member June Allyson, who sang the praises of the barrelhouse, blues, and boogie-woogie in the “Three B’s” showstopper. Dick went with Joan a second time, and backstage Dick asked Rosemary Lane to be introduced to June Allyson, who was agape that a star of his rank would single her out.

 

Joan always conceded that Dick made a wonderful father. Such acknowledgment did not stop her from arming herself with lawyers and filing for divorce on 9 June 1944, charging Dick with emotional unavailability and adducing their characters incompatibility. The beginning of the end of the marriage coincided neatly with the beginning of the end of World War II, with the Allied troops landing in Normandy on 6 June. -"Joan Blondell: A Life between Takes" (2007) by Matthew Kennedy

  Dick Powell and Lucille Ball in "Meet the People" (1944) directed by Charles Reisner

 

Lucille Ball: "I really enjoyed working with Dick Powell. He was a great natural performer. He was so natural that he was not always given the credit he deserved. Dick didn't make noise about his acting, or his voice, or his marriage troubles, or even his losing fight with cancer. He was a sane, sensible, and stoic man. He was also a loving husband and father and a showman of rare ability." Lucille Ball appeared opposite Dick Powell in "Meet the People", a musical comedy that June Allyson had a small role in. Lucy knew June from appearing in "Best Foot Forward" in Broadway and introduced the starlet to her leading man. "Meet the People" was the last movie Dick made before reinventing himself as the tough detective type in "Murder My Sweet".

  Dick Powell, June Allyson and Ricardo Montalbán in "Right Cross" (1950) directed by John Sturges

  "As far as I'm concerned our marriage will last forever...  I'm madly in love with the man" -June Allyson (with Dick Powell) in 1945.

Dick Powell and June Allyson stayed married until his death (19 August 1945 - 2 January 1963) and they had two children: Pamela and Richard Jr. While June Allyson worked in the Broadway production of Best Foot Forward (1942): "One night an excited buzz went around backstage - Dick Powell is out front. We were all standing onstage and Rosemary Lane was saying, Really? Where, where? I was just a featured player so I waited until the stars of the show had their turn before I took a peep at the screen idol. There he was, seventh row center. Wouldn't he be surprised, I thought as I looked through the curtain at him, to know how many times I had skipped school to go see him in a movie? No, I suppose not. Didn't every girl drool over America's singing idol - star of both Gold Diggers and 20 Million Sweethearts with Ginger Rogers, and scores more - like 42nd Street and Naughty But Nice. A thrill passed through me, dark wavy hair, handsome boyish grin. They were all there, just like in the movies." ~ from the book "June Allyson" by June Allyson (1983)

Jake Gyllenhaal in Details magazine, September 2012

"My whole life," he says, "I'd come to a scene and just ask for something real. I'd say, 'Please, just tell me what's going on. All the research, how your character picks up a fork, it'll all come when we know the truth.'" He's talking about a personal and professional evolution that accelerated during the months of his preproduction involvement in 2011's Source Code. The story—a soldier is enabled by technology to relive eight crucial minutes, over and over, until he gets it right and saves the world—resonated deeply with him. "Now the time's come to turn that on myself"—searching, over and over, for the truth—"and it's 'Game on.'

Gyllenhaal has positioned himself in front of the camera, giving himself an extreme close-up before the third and final take, his bearded face filling the monitor with one expression of suffering after another. Almost instinctively, his hand rises to cover his mouth in horror. As D.H. Lawrence said, "a young man is afraid of his demon and puts his hand over the demon's mouth sometimes."

Ayers has seen it before, in End of Watch. "That's Jake," he says. "He's a genuinely sweet guy, but he's also got this real darkness, this rage he's running from. All the great actors have it, believe me. It's what you do with it."


"I don't run anymore. Do I take care of my body and take conditioning seriously? Yes. But exercising regularly doesn't fit the energy of the character I'm playing now."


Until he nails it—not with horror but with old-fashioned anxiety. Villeneuve and Gyllenhaal quickly agree it's the best expression. The decision is key, since it will be the take that Gyllenhaal, as Anthony, will be acting against when his two opposing selves meet. After readying himself to inhabit the part of the vain actor, Gyllenhaal heads off to shoot publicity stills in a nearby room. Flashes go off, and then an imposingly handsome man in a leather jacket and motorcycle boots barrels out with that broad-shouldered, get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way gait such men move with. It takes a second to register it's Gyllenhaal, as Anthony.

Jake Gyllenhaal on the cover of "Details" magazine, September 2012 issue

A beer arrives for him, half of it vanishing in the time it takes me to get the tape recorder going, and as the first three of our ten delicate courses slowly arrive, Gyllenhaal's plates empty fast. A suspiciously large number of beautiful waitresses deliver the respective courses, glancing sideways at him as they linger over descriptions of each dish and continually align fresh sets of chopsticks. That's the only clue I'm sitting with a celebrity. Source: www.details.com