THE 4 MESMERIZING GODDESSES OF THE SILVER SCREEN
Photo:
Barbara Stanwyck in 1937.
Hi Erica:
You
brought so many delightful memories to my heart. Thirty, forty, fifty, even
sixty year ago, we had only one major aspect of
Photo: Kim Novak.
LANA TURNER
Lana Turner was a dramatic
presence on and off stage. This is what she wrote in her autobiography:”
"The thing about happiness is that it doesn't help you to grow; only
unhappiness does that. So I'm grateful that my bed of roses was made up
equally of blossoms and thorns. I've had a privileged, creative, exciting
life, and I think that the parts that were less joyous were preparing me,
testing me, strengthening me." -Lana Turner, Lana, The Lady, The Legend,
The Truth I was always fascinated by this woman, for her life was a
continuous sequence of drama. I want to read this official excerpt from her
biographer/historian:” Lana Turner was no stranger to outstanding hardship.
She was born Julia Jean Mildred Frances Turner on February 8, 1921 to John
and Mildred Turner in Wallace, Idaho. Lana's uneventful birth in itself was
relief-her grandmother had died in childbirth due to Rh factor
complications-and there was a possibility the
Photos:
Lana Turner.
His skills helped to support the family through rough times. However, after a big win at a card game one night, he was robbed and murdered. Lana was heartbroken, and later learned he'd bragged about using the money to buy his daughter a tricycle-a gift she'd been begging him for. Lana loved going to the movies. Every weekday she would save a nickel of her lunch money to put toward the twenty-five cent Saturday matinee. Her appreciation for the elaborate costumes of actresses Kay Frances and Norma Shearer carried over into her own career, and earned her a reputation for wearing some of the most beautiful costumes in film history. In fact, if she hadn't gone into movies, Lana always said she would have become a fashion designer.
In
search of greater job opportunities, Lana and her mother moved out to
California. One school day, shortly after their arrival,
fifteen-year-old Lana went for a Coke. Despite the legend, she wasn't
at Schwab's Drugstore, but The Top Hat Café, a shop across the street
from Hollywood High. When W.R. Wilkerson, publisher of the Hollywood
Reporter, happened to be quenching his thirst at the same time, he
caught sight of Lana. He introduced himself, gave her his card and
asked her to call newly operating talent agent Zeppo Marx. This, in
addition to a letter Wilkerson personally wrote, helped team her with
director Mervyn LeRoy. He felt her nickname, Judy, was too plain.
Julia Jean was also vetoed, so the two had a brainstorming session.
LeRoy suggested Leonore, but it didn't seem to fit. "What about-Lana?"
she suggested. She spelled it for LeRoy and waited while he said it
several times and then finally nodded. "That's it," Leroy told her.
"You're Lana Turner." Lana could relate to the role of schoolgirl Mary
Clay in They Won't Forget, and found it easy to play. Though
the part was relatively small, when the film was released she was
immediately noticed. The Hollywood Reporter noted, "Short on
playing time is the role of the murdered school girl. But as played by
Lana Turner it is worthy of more than passing note. This young lady
has vivid beauty, personality and charm." After the film, Lana found
herself tagged as "The Sweater Girl," thanks to a tight blue wool
sweater she wore in the film. Despite the praise, Lana still didn't
think she would become an actress. "I made my first movie without ever
considering that my walk-on would be anything more than a one-time
job," she said. "If I could have foreseen everything that was going to
happen to me, all the headlines my life would make, all the people who
would pass through my days, I wouldn't have believed a syllable of
it!" But LeRoy cast her in his next film, The Great Garrick,
and when it was finished he loaned her to Samuel Goldwyn for The
Adventure of Parco Polo. During the filming of Marco Polo, Goldwyn
insisted that Lana's eyebrows be shaved off and replaced with
straight, fake black ones. They never grew back, and from then on she
had to either paste or draw her eyebrows. When LeRoy left Warner Bros
for MGM, he took Lana with him. Her salary doubled from $50 to $100 a
week. Lana was ecstatic. The first thing she did was buy a house for
she and her mother to live in. From that point on, Lana's fame and
salary continued to increase. After a year with MGM, it rose to $250,
and, by the time she was twenty, Lana was earning $1,500 a week. She
enjoyed the fresh atmosphere at MGM, and would often spend time with
other young Hollywood newcomers. "We had youth, we had beauty, we had
money, we had doors open to us," she recalled. If someone recognized
her while they were out, she would laugh and say, "Oh, no, no. I've
been told I look like her." When the United States entered WWII, Lana
spent time traveling with railroad tours that sold war bonds.
She
wrote her own speeches and promised "a sweet kiss" to any man who
purchased a bond worth $50,000 or more. "And I kept that promise-hundreds
of times," she said. "I'm told I increased the defense budget by several
million dollars." New contract negotiations with MGM in 1945 netted Lana
$4,000 a week. In addition, the studio finally obtained a censor-approved
script for "The Postman Always Rings Twice." She was ecstatic. "Finally
the part I had been hoping for did come my way." Lana obtained the part,
and Postman's author, James M. Cain, was delighted that she would
be playing Cora. It was a perfect fit. Even today, some of her scenes as
the adulterous femme fatale are considered among the most seductive and
sensuous ever made. In 1948 Lana filmed "The Three Musketeers" her first
Technicolor picture. Cast as Lady de Winter, she especially enjoyed the
test of playing opposite Vincent Price's Cardinal Richelieu. "I studied
him, and it challenged me, and I began to try things I never knew I could
do," she said. "I found my own little touches-a certain sly look, the flap
of a glove, a tilt of the head." She was allowed to improvise and create
moments that weren't originally in the script. The artistic freedom and
exquisite costumes made it one of her favorite performances. "Turner was
covered with jewels and costumed exquisitely," recalled on review. "The
drama of her first appearance on screen is heightened by the effect of
having her sit in a darkened carriage... When Turner finally does lean
slowly forward into the light-and the Technicolor-audiences are not jerked
out of their mood and back to earth. She is unreal. A proper goddess."
