View allAll Photos Tagged mccarthyism

Sarah Palin quotes "Joe the Plumber", whose real name is Sam (I am) , on socialism. Never mind that "JOE" lied about his identity, income, and qualifications as a plumber (or lack thereof). On socialism, he's an authority. The McCain platform is sounding more like McCarthyism with each desperate attempt to scare the US voters into the Republican camp.

 

On another note, I hope that Obama's grandmother lives long enough to see him become President! For a second term!

 

Sarah Palin thinks she's talking to French President Sarkozy

Hilarious prank call!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=iNhA9W9IgFc

  

Satnitepalin_20081021_11sm

  

NEWS

"Sarah Palin's Alaska." is to be aired on "VERGE- Planet Green's all-new primetime programming destination"

  

WRITE DISCOVERY CHANNEL AN EMAIL about it!

 

For example, I wrote-

 

You seriously intend giving Sarah Palin money to host a show on VERGE- Planet Green? So she can further her plan to influence American public opinion with her inane but ultimately dangerous views on ecology?

 

Please... reconsider airing "Sarah Palin's Alaska." Be assured I WILL NOT WATCH IT, and will urge all my friends to do likewise. I will also be less likely to turn on your channel in the future if this is the kind of programming you intend to pursue in your new line-up.

 

Sincerely,

(ME)

   

3 contacts to Send to directly -

Contact 1- Chris Finnegan

Planet Green

VP, Communications

chris_finnegan@discovery.com

240.662.7589

 

Contact 2- Discovery's Investor Relations department, please call (212) 548-5882 or toll-free (877) 324-5850, or email investor_relations@discovery.com

 

Contact 3- Peter Liguori Chief Operating Officer

COO@discovery.com

 

WHO IS (big surprise...) Peter Liguori was previously FOX network senior vice president, marketing

 

AND SAID THIS!

 

The eight-episode travelogue will “reveal Alaska’s powerful beauty as it has never been filmed, and as told by one of the state’s proudest daughters,” Peter Liguori, Discovery’s chief operating officer, said in a statement.

mediadecoder.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/03/25/tlc-acquires-sa...

 

Peter Liguori Chief Operating Officer Discovery Communications

Peter Liguori is a key member of Discovery Communications' senior executive team, providing leadership and vision for the company's operational organizations, including Marketing, Discovery Studios, Corporate Communications and Corporate Affairs, Business Affairs, and Media Technology, Production and Operations, as well as playing a key role in corporate budget and business decisions.

In addition to his operational role, Liguori chairs Discovery's Content Committee comprised of U.S. Networks general managers with a focus on maximizing the value of the company's marketing resources, network portfolio and overall corporate assets.

Liguori joined Fox / Liberty Networks in 1996 as senior vice president, marketing, for a new joint venture, which now includes Fox Sports Net, FX, Fox Sports World, SPEED and National Geographic Channel. Prior to joining Fox, Liguori was vice president, consumer marketing, at HBO. Prior to HBO, he worked in advertising at Ogilvy & Mather and Saatchi & Saatchi. He is a graduate cum laude of Yale University.

mediadecoder.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/12/07/peter-liguori-t...

Artist: John Belardo

"Portrait of Governor

Herbert H. Lehman"

2004, bronze

On the campus of Lehman College, The Bronx

 

When I read the following description I was reminded of a time when we had real leaders.

 

From the Lehman College Website:

As Governor of New York in the midst of the Great Depression, he turned a budget deficit into a surplus while pushing through social reforms we now take for granted: minimum wage, unemployment insurance, old-age benefits, public housing, civil rights, medical care for the disabled, and laws to protect workers.

 

From 1943 until 1946, as director of the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration, he directed the largest international relief effort in history: 24 million tons of food, clothing, and medical supplies to 500 million victims of world war. He also gave his own money, often anonymously, to help children, refugees, the hungry, and the homeless.

 

Lehman would not sacrifice his beliefs for perceived political advantage. As a United States Senator from New York in 1950, he voted against popular anti-immigrant legislation. When he fought McCarthyism, his Senate colleagues told him he was committing political suicide. But Senator Lehman said, "I will not compromise with my conscience. I will cast my vote to protect the liberties of our people." There were many voters who disagreed with him at the time, but they respected his integrity and reelected him to the Senate.

 

In 1968, many names were suggested for this campus. Herbert H. Lehman was chosen because of what he represented: integrity in public service, humanitarism, love of country, commitment to equal opportunity for all Americans, and a willingness to work hard. Citizens of the world - including the students, faculty, and alumni of Lehman College - are inspired by this legacy.

A passage taken from a collection of works written in 2004 regarding the influence of mystical phenomenon on psychosis.

  

Most people have very specific situations they link to occult related mass hysteria- The witch hunts of the 16th and 17th centuries & McCarthyism in the 1950s. One might even draw connections to the fear surrounding the supernatural aspects of the game Dungeons & Dragons. Today we focus on one specific, and much more recent event. The gruesome murder of 22 year old Jessica Willett that took place at The Scarlett Hotel on March 13th, 1999, better remembered as “The Scarlett Sacrament”

 

Four young women stand clustered at the front desk of the Scarlett Hotel. Three close friends, and one outsider. That much was evident even at a glance. Witnesses would later recount that the majority of their conversation circled around a concert they were meant to be attending and so the nervous energy of the group was easily brushed aside as anticipation. Easy enough to regard the separated individual as perhaps uncomfortable. Dressed with slightly less regard for modesty, and perhaps a tiny bit less clean cut than her companions Jessica Willett was easily marked the odd man out. Nobody gave the gaggle of girls a second glance. They weren't the only crowd of young adults on their way to this concert. Plenty of out of towners dressed in various levels of glam and grunge swarmed the hallways and loitered in the hallways. Glass shattered and furious screaming matches held behind doors were barely acknowledged. Just another raucous roar to add to the cacophony.

 

No, there was nothing special about this group of girls until about 2am the next morning. Not when a shriek of terror sounded from behind the doorway of Room 233. Not even when three girls emerged with horror stricken faces and makeup marred with trails of tears. It wasn't until one followed the officers inside to peer at the desecrated body of the fourth member of their group. Jessica lay, arms outstretched. Nearly saintly. Her flesh peppered with abrasions and the blossoming of new bruises, a tarot card in each open palm and the rest scattered at her feet.

Death.

The Devil.

Her face seemed to hold the brunt of the abuse, an image that will surely turn stomachs for decades to come. Small wooden crosses, tied haphazardly, were jammed into the woman’s eye sockets and a terrible spike pierced her glitter flaked cheeks.

 

The press flew with the story. OBVIOUSLY this girl’s three friends were innocents. They were good godly women who only came to this concert in order to befriend a troubled girl, you see? The girls spoke freely about how she was a classmate of theirs from a small rural school college. They knew she dabbled in the occult and they were worried for her. They saw a woman on the precipice of peril and were determined to be a good influence. They wanted to act as disciples to Jessica and the best way to do that was by taking interest in her and winning her over after they became friends. When they got to the hotel, however...they stated that Jessica didn't stay with them for long. She found a familiar face in the crowd, one that they said seemed dangerous. Frightening. A man among a group of degenerates wearing all black, with odd symbols scrawled onto their clothing. Try as they might, the girls could not tear her away from her newfound gaggle of heathens… so they went to the concert on their own. They didn't want to go, of course, but they hoped that she would find them there and they could pick up right where they left off. When they arrived at the hotel to find her body they were stricken with horror. “Possible Human Sacrifice” and “Dangerous Satanic Cult Killing” topped headlines nationwide. The religious symbology in conjunction with the gruesome murder could only point to desecration. The dangers of Heavy Metal, tarot and spirit boards were murmured among sewing circles. The terrible outcome of watching horror movies was preached from the pulpit… those could be blamed for this young woman’s death. They were a cross the nation could pin their fears upon, and so they did.

 

Some individuals were much more reluctant to pull out their torches. They claimed that something didn't quite add up. There were no unexplainable early check outs… and no groups checking in that fit the makeup of the supposed cult of murderers. Nobody could find anyone matching the descriptions the friend group provided that didn't have an airtight alibi. The tarot cards in the hands seemed… wrong. Amature. The choices of someone who simply saw the faces and names of the cards and took them at face value. Even Jessica herself didn't seem to match up with the image that these girls were painting. She seemed extremely...ordinary. Maybe a bit more ‘edgy’ than the average student at the small rural school, but only barely. Certainly not the blood drinker she was being made out to be. Then, the autopsy. None of her gruesome wounds had killed the woman. Instead it was the heavy dose of sedatives that eventually led to her death. She had no marks of restraint and the signs of a struggle were minimal. Things were not aligning, but the nation was roiling with righteous anger and they had something easy to blame.

 

Years later, with changes in the way DNA evidence was used, we would discover the truth of the thing. No longer could we paint Jessica’s death as the outcome of toying with darkness. Her death was instead caused by the righteous anger of the holy. Three young women who thought themselves victors of all that was good happened to find a target that would make them martyrs. They were whipped into a frenzy by their own brand of panic. Small harmless traits became compounded. Just different enough… just threatening enough that they could easily view Jessica as some terrible corrupting force. A woman who was acting as the right hand of Satan himself. She listened to the Devil’s music, after all, and dabbled in fortune telling and communing with the dead. Their fervor declared her a danger that they needed to stamp her out. If they couldn't do it with the conviction of their words, they would cleanse her by any means necessary. It was easy enough to slip in the things they needed with their luggage. Easy enough to disappear in the crowds of degenerates if they needed to leave. Easy enough to pin the blame on any faceless demon that might have found itself among the crowd that night. And so they made their own sacrifice on a different altar that night, in the name of good. In the name of justice and righteousness they created a Scarlett Sacrament. A story for the books. A warning against fear mongering and mass hysteria.

 

Still, even today, individuals claim that thefts occur in their rooms at the Scarlett Hotel believing wholeheartedly to have seen Jessica Willet’s ghostly figure carrying out the act.. Even going so far as to attribute violent crimes carried out on the premises to the long dead young woman. Every one of the claims related in some way to religious symbols. Even in her death she is a scapegoat for a fearful world. Jessica Willett- a sobering reminder that witch hunts still happen. That even with all our knowledge, we are not immune to the fear of the unknown and the horrors that fear can cause.

 

The Twilight Zone Day is May 11

 

You are driving home late at night in the dark streets of New York City. The power had gone out after a severe rain storm and the streets are wet. You had just finished watching a stage performance of the “Rockettes” and had just a little too much liquid libation to celebrate. You believe that you’re not like those other fools who drink and drive. You come up to an unmarked street corner thinking that you are not under the influence of anything, and can make it home in three short minutes. But those next minutes will turn into what will seem like hours, for you are entering “The Twilight Zone.”

 

This was typical of the beginning of the TV series, “The Twilight Zone.” Today we celebrate the anthology of this television series, but it is unclear why the show is celebrated on May 11. There is no apparent connection between the date and the show. During its five-season run, the series was both popular with fans and became critically acclaimed.

 

“The Twilight Zone” premiered on October 2, 1959, on the CBS television network. It was created by Rod Serling, who not only came up with its concept and wrote or co-wrote 92 of its 156 episodes but also hosted and narrated it. It was one of the first science fiction series, and also had elements of suspense, horror, psychological fiction, drama, and fantasy. Serling combined his love of pulp fiction novels with topics that weren't often addressed on television at the time: social issues such as war (including nuclear), McCarthyism, and racism. In the opening of each episode, characters were transported to another dimension—the fifth dimension—which was called "the Twilight Zone." There they dealt with many unusual events, and the show often had a surprise ending with a moral lesson.

 

How to Observe

Celebrate the day by watching the original series or one of its later iterations.

Or, you can be creative and write your own ‘fan fiction’ of this series, complete with having Rod Serling open the show. Now, that would be entering the “Twilight Zone”!

 

Also, don’t drink and drive. That would be the moral of this “Twilight Zone” Lego show if it had been completely scripted out!

 

20200511 132/366

Given the current political climate, it might be hard to believe that there was a time when being pro-labor wasn't seen a subversive point of view. Of course, McCarthyism would come along and change that.

 

This particular pro-labor work of art can be found on the western side of the Thomas J. Moyer Ohio Judicial Center, a government building. The shot was taken in shadow and exposed to retain that muted look you get from deep shadows, and I thought it was appropriate to leave that shadowy feel rather than boost the exposure in post-processing.

 

© 2015 Brian Rodgers

British postcard in the Picturegoer Series, no. W105. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Collection: Marlene Pilaete.

 

American retired actress, model, and activist Marsha Hunt was born on 17 October 1917. She had a career spanning 73 years, and appeared in many popular films including Pride and Prejudice (1940), Blossoms in the Dust (1942), Cry 'Havoc' (1943), The Human Comedy (1943), and Raw Deal (1948). She was blacklisted by Hollywood film studio executives in the 1950s during McCarthyism. In her later years, she has aided homeless shelters, supported same-sex marriage, raised awareness of climate change, and promoted peace in Third World countries.

 

Marcia Virginia Hunt was born in 1917, in Chicago. She was the younger of two daughters of Earl Hunt, a lawyer and later a Social Security Administrator, and Minabel Hunt, a vocal teacher, and organist. Marcia later changed the spelling of her first name to Marsha. Hunt and her family were active in the Methodist church. Hunt's family moved to New York City when she was young, and she began performing in school plays and church functions. She also appeared as a singer on the radio, a gift obviously inherited from her mother. She graduated from the Horace Mann High School for Girls in 1934 at age 16. Hunt's parents wanted her to pursue a college degree, but Hunt found work modeling for the John Powers Agency and began taking stage acting classes at the Theodora Irvine Studio. She was one of the highest-earning models by 1935. In May 1935, she planned on studying stage acting at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in the United Kingdom. Although initially reluctant to pursue a film career, in June 1935, at age 17, Hunt signed a seven-year contract with Paramount Pictures. Paramount discovered her when she was visiting her uncle in Los Angeles and the comedian Zeppo Marx saw a picture of her in the newspaper. She was then offered a screen test for The Virginia Judge. She got the role opposite Robert Cummings. Displaying an innate, fresh-faced sensitivity, she moved directly into her second film, playing the title role in the drama Gentle Julia (John G. Blystone, 1936) with Jane Withers, and Tom Brown as her romantic interest. She attended Paramount Pictures' acting school along with classmates Frances Farmer, Olympe Bradna, Robert Cummings, Eleanore Whitney, and Rosalind Keith. At Paramount, Hunt mainly played ingenue parts. Between 1935 and 1938, she made 12 pictures at Paramount, including starring roles in the comedy Easy to Take (Glenn Tryon, 1936), The Accusing Finger (James P. Hogan, 1936), the comedy Murder Goes to College (Charles Reisner, 1937). She made two films on 'loan-out' to RKO and 20th Century Fox. In 1937, she starred opposite John Wayne, a couple of years prior to his breakthrough in Hollywood, in the Western film Born to the West (Charles Barton, 1937). The studio terminated Hunt's contract in 1938, and she spent a few years starring in B-films produced by poverty row studios such as Republic Pictures and Monogram Pictures. She also headed to New York City for work in summer stock theatre shortly before winning a supporting role in MGM's These Glamour Girls (S. Sylvan Simon, 1939) opposite Lana Turner and Lew Ayres. The role of Betty was said to have been written especially with Hunt in mind. Other roles in major studio productions soon followed, including supporting roles as Mary Bennet in MGM's version of Pride and Prejudice (Robert Z. Leonard, 1940) with Greer Garson and Laurence Olivier, and as Martha Scott's surrogate child Hope Thompson in Cheers for Miss Bishop (Tay Garnett, 1941).

 

In 1941, Marsha Hunt signed a contract with MGM, where she remained for the next six years. While filming Blossoms in the Dust (1942), film director Mervyn LeRoy lauded Hunt for her heartfelt and genuine acting ability. During this period she had starring roles in 21 films, including The Penalty (Harold S. Bucquet, 1941) opposite Lionel Barrymore, Panama Hattie (Norman Z. McLeod, 1942) opposite Ann Sothern and Red Skelton, the propaganda film Pilot No. 5 (George Sidney, 1943) in which she was cast as the love interest of Franchot Tone, and The Valley of Decision (Tay Garnett, 1945) with Gregory Peck. During this time she also sang on extended USO tours and stayed busy on the radio. In 1944 she polled seventh in a list by exhibitors of 'Stars of Tomorrow'. She previously did a screen test to play Melanie Hamilton in Gone with the Wind (Victor Fleming, 1939) and almost got the part before Olivia de Havilland took it over. In 1944, she appeared in None Shall Escape (Andre De Toth, 1944), a film that is now regarded as the first about the Holocaust. She played Marja Pacierkowski, the Polish fiancé of a German Nazi officer named Wilhelm Grimm. She had a catchy, unsympathetic role as a scheming secretary in Smash-Up: The Story of a Woman (Stuart Heisler, 1947), starring Susan Hayward. In Raw Deal (Anthony Mann, 1948), starring Dennis O'Keefe, she got the "raw deal" being overshadowed as a "good girl" by the "bad girl" posturings of Claire Trevor. In 1945, Hunt was invited to join the board of the Screen Actors Guild. Disturbed by the actions of the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC), Hunt and her husband, screenwriter Robert Presnell Jr., became members of the Committee for the First Amendment in 1947. In October that same year, Hunt took part in Hollywood Fights Back, a star-studded radio program co-written by her husband protesting the activities of HUAC. The next day, Hunt flew with a group of about 30 actors, directors, writers, and filmmakers (including John Huston, Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, and Danny Kaye) to Washington to protest the actions of HUAC.

When she returned to Hollywood just three days later, things had changed. She was asked to denounce her activities if she wanted to find more work; she refused. Film work became scarce for Hunt and Presnell. She made her Broadway debut in Joy to the World (1948). Although she was never subpoenaed by the House Un-American Activities Committee, her name appeared in the red-baiting pamphlet Red Channels because of her membership in the Committee for the First Amendment and on liberal petitions she signed. She was blacklisted at age 32.

 

After her 1950 blacklisting, Marsha Hunt found most work in television, not film. She appeared in only a handful of films during the next eight years. When she was unable to work in any of the blacklist media, she played in stock theatre, around the country. In 1957, her career began to pick up. She appeared in six films during the next three years before announcing her semi-retirement in 1960. Following her semi-retirement in 1960, Hunt appeared in small roles in five films and numerous television shows, including an episode of the ABC medical drama Breaking Point. In 1962, she appeared in an episode of Gunsmoke, and in 1967, she had a leading role in an episode of My Three Sons. In 1971, she appeared in the film Johnny Got His Gun, written and directed by fellow blacklist member Dalton Trumbo. She played the mother of the title character, portrayed by Timothy Bottoms. The film won the Grand Prix at the 1971 Cannes Film Festival. In 1988, she appeared in an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. In 1993, her book 'The Way We Wore: Styles of the 1930s and '40s and Our World Since Then' was published. Later, Hunt played in the film Chloe's Prayer (Maura Mackey, 2006), and in a short Film Noir, The Grand Inquisitor (2008). At age 91, she was seen in Meurtres à l'Empire State Building (William Karel, 2008), a tribute and doc-crime-drama celebrating Film Noir and the icons of the Hollywood golden age. In 2013, Hunt debuted a clip of a song she wrote 40 years earlier titled 'Here's to All Who Love' about love and same-sex marriage. Sung by Glee star Bill A. Jones the clip immediately went viral. It was featured in Marsha Hunt's Sweet Adversity (2015), a documentary about her life. When she was 99 in April 2017, Hunt made a public appearance at the 2017 Los Angeles Jewish Film Festival to honor the achievements of actor and activist Ed Asner.

 

In 1955, after a trip opened her eyes to the issue of hunger in the Third World, Marsha Hunt gave speeches throughout the United States, encouraging Americans to join the fight against starvation in the Third World by joining the United Nations Association. Hunt was a founder of the "San Fernando Valley Mayor's Fund for the Homeless" and helped to open one of the first homeless shelters in the San Fernando Valley. In 1960, she produced an hour-long telecast about the refugee problems that featured stars such as Paul Newman, Jean Simmons, and Bing Crosby. She raised funds for the creation of "Rose Cottage", a daycare shelter for homeless children, and served for many years on the Advisory Board of Directors for the San Fernando Valley Community Mental Health Center, a large non-profit, where she advocates for adults and children affected by homelessness and mental illness. Hunt was named honorary mayor of Sherman Oaks, California, in 1983. She still identifies as a political liberal and is very concerned with such issues as global pollution, worldwide poverty, peace in Third World nations, and population growth. In 1998 she was the recipient of the Eleanor Roosevelt Humanitarian Award for her many selfless efforts. Marsha Hunt was married twice. She married Jerry "Jay" Hopper, assistant head of the editing department at Paramount and later a director, on in 1938. The marriage ended in divorce in 1945. Hunt married her second husband, screenwriter, and radio director Robert Presnell Jr., in 1946. Their child, a premature daughter, was born in 1947 but died the next day. She and her second husband later became foster parents. They remained together until his death in 1986. Marsha Hunt resided in Sherman Oaks, California, since 1946. Gary Brumburgh at IMDb: "Stardom somehow eluded this vastly gifted actress. Had it not perhaps been for her low-level profile compounded by her McCarthy-era blacklisting in the early 1950s, there is no telling what higher tier Marsha Hunt might have attained. Perhaps her work was not flashy enough, or too subdued, or perhaps her intelligence too often disguised a genuine sex appeal to stand out among the other lovelies. Two studios, Paramount in the late 1930s and MGM in the early 1940s, failed to complete her star. Nevertheless, her talent and versatility cannot be denied. This glamorous, slimly handsome leading lady offered herself to well over 50 pictures during the 1930s and 1940s alone."

 

Marsha Hunt died on 22 September 2022, at the age of 104.

 

Sources: Wikipedia and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

Ruth Orkin (American, 1921-1985)

American Girl in Italy, 1951, printed 1980

Gelatin silver print

David Hall Collection

 

Ruth Orkin, the daughter of a toy manufacturer and silent film actress, received her first camera at the age of ten. This gift instilled her lifelong passion for photography and her rise to prominence for her images of New York City. She captured the mundane-the candid moments revealed the energy of a neighborhood, or the personalities of the people caught on film. A member of the Photo League, Orkin and her contemporaries-such as Sid Grossman, Morris Engel, Aaron Siskind, and Lisette Model - were early practitioners of social justice. They used their cameras to document disparities in economic wealth and the need for social change.

 

Deemed by the government as "anti-American" in 1947, at the height of McCarthyism, the Photo League was blacklisted by the Justice Department and eventually the group disbanded in the early 1950s.

While members of the Photo League did not continue their work after the group dissolved, many continued to have successful careers.

 

In 1951, Orkin made one of her most famous photographs, American Girl in Italy. On a travel assignment for LIFE magazine, Orkin visited Italy and met fellow American Jinx Allen. As two women traveling solo, Orkin was inspired to shoot a photo series dedicated to female travelers which she called Don't Be Afraid to Travel Alone. In this image, Orkin captured Jinx walking along the streets of Florence. As men catcall and gawk at her, Jinx hurriedly- even confidently — continues to move along the sidewalk.

Bottom:

August

Delano, Jack,, photographer.

 

The yardmaster's office at the receiving yard, North Proviso(?), C & NW RR, Chicago, Ill.

 

1942 Dec.

 

1 transparency : color.

 

Notes:

Title from FSA or OWI agency caption.

Transfer from U.S. Office of War Information, 1944.

 

Subjects:

Chicago and North Western Railway Company

World War, 1939-1945

Railroad shops & yards

Offices

United States--Illinois--Melrose Park

 

Format: Transparencies--Color

 

Rights Info: No known restrictions on publication.

 

Repository: Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, Washington, D.C. 20540 USA, hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.print

 

Part Of: Farm Security Administration - Office of War Information Collection 12002-1 (DLC) 93845501

 

General information about the FSA/OWI Color Photographs is available at hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.fsac

 

Higher resolution image is available (Persistent URL): hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/fsac.1a34620

 

Call Number: LC-USW36-526

  

American postcard by Mike Roberts Color Production, Berkeley, California, no. SC10439. Lena Horne performed at John Ascuegel's Nugget, Sparks (East Reno), Nevada. Horne appeared here with Leonardo from 3 till 16 November, year unknown.

 

Lena Horne (1917-2010) was an American singer, dancer, actress, and human rights activist. She is known as one of the most popular African American entertainers of the twentieth century. She starred in the film musicals Cabin in the Sky (1943) and Stormy Weather (1943)

 

Lena Mary Calhoun Horne was born in 1917 in New York into a family that had African and Native American as well as European ancestors on both sides. Her father, Edwin "Teddy" Horne, who worked in the gambling trade, left the family when Lena was three. Her mother, Edna, was an actress with an African American theatre troupe and travelled extensively. Horne was mainly raised by her grandparents, Cora Calhoun and Edwin Horne. From an early age, Horne had ambitions of becoming a performer—much against the wishes of her family, who felt she should have higher goals. The Hornes were an established middle-class family, with several members holding college degrees and distinguished positions in organizations such as the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and the Urban League (a group that worked to increase the economic and political power of minorities and to end discrimination based on race). Nonetheless, Horne pursued her own course. At the age of 16, she made her debut as a dancer and singer in the chorus of Harlem's famous Cotton Club. There she performed with Cab Calloway's orchestra, among others. In 1934, she took voice lessons and landed a small role in an all-black Broadway show 'Dance with Your Gods'. In 1935-1936, she toured as a singer with the Noble Sissles orchestra and recorded her first two albums for Decca Records. Horne married minor politician Louis Jones in 1937. They had a daughter, Gail, and a son, Edwin, but separated in 1940 and divorced in 1944.

 

Lena Horne gained some stage experience in Lew Leslie's revues, 'Blackbirds of 1939' and 'Blackbirds of 1940', and in 1940 she joined one of the great white swing bands, the Charlie Barnet Orchestra. But as the group's only black member she suffered many humiliations of racial prejudice, especially from hotels and restaurants that catered exclusively to whites. In 1943 a long booking at the SavoyPlaza Hotel, which brought Horne national coverage and a number of movie appearances, established her as the highest-paid African American entertainer in the United States. She was signed to a seven-year contract with Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM)—the first African American woman since 1915 to sign a term contract with a film studio. She was not dark enough in colour to star with many of the African American actors of the day and her roles in white films were limited, since Hollywood was not ready to portray interracial relationships on screen. She had several minor roles before she had a major role in the musical Cabin in the Sky (Vincente Minnelli, 1943) opposite Ethel Waters and Rex Ingram. MGM made this musical with exclusively black actors, which was a financial risk at the time as some cinemas refused films starring black actors. One song was cut from the film: 'Ain't It the Truth' sung by Lena Horne in a bubble bath. It was considered too piquant for the time. She also starred in the musical Stormy Weather (Andrew L. Stone, 1943) loosely based on the life of dancer Bill Robinson. Robinson himself co-starred and in the cast were also African-American actors, singers, and dancers such as Cab Calloway, Fats Waller, and the Nicholas brothers. The soundtrack earned Horne a world hit, 'Stormy Weather'. Then followed some nonspeaking roles in Broadway Rhythm (1944), Two Girls and a Sailor (1944), and a musical biography of Rodgers and Hart, Words and Music (1948). She refused to take on any roles that were disrespectful to her as a woman of colour.

 

As an African-American, Lena Horne was systematically discriminated against in the further development of her career, which discouraged her and matured her leftist ideas. After World War II, she spent several years in Western Europe, performing in the Netherlands and Belgium, among other places. After returning to the United States, in the era of McCarthyism, she was blacklisted by Hollywood for her left-wing sympathies. However, she was able to continue working in nightclubs and regularly for television. In the 1960s she increasingly acted as a human rights activist and, among other things, took part with Martin Luther King in the 1966 peace march to Jackson. In the 1970s and 1980s, Horne again appeared regularly in television shows, including The Muppet Show and The Cosby Show. In the early 1980s, she starred more than 100 times on Broadway in the one-woman show Lena Horne: The Lady and Her Music. Horne was inducted into the Georgia Music Hall of Fame in 1991 and received many awards, including the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1989. Horne was married to pianist, composer, and arranger Lennie Hayton. The singer died in May 2010 at the age of almost 93.

 

Sources: Encyclopedia of World Biography, Wikipedia (English and Dutch), and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

"Well, the dream died."

 

1952. Harry Hay has been called the founder of the modern gay movement. His idea for the Mattachine Society--the first gay-rights organization--was inspired in part by his experiences with IWW farm laborers years before. "So I conceived of forming a semi-public foundation that would look at this as a civil-social issue whose time has come. We'd set up discussion groups to which anyone could come." When one of their members was entrapped by a policeman, they decided to go public in his defense. "That was our first victory. We were deluged. Our discussion groups tripled in size. It was so exciting, such a wonderful feeling to believe we were part of a family, a brotherhood." Pursued by the FBI, in 1955 Harry Hay was called before HUAC. By then, the political climate that was part and parcel of McCarthyism had had a disastrous effect on the emerging gay movement.

 

From the set: "Portraits: Social Activists of the Last Century."

On the Road

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

"Marylou" redirects here. For the album by Anna Rossinelli, see Marylou (album).

For other uses, see On the Road (disambiguation).

On the Road

 

1st edition

On the Road is a novel by American writer Jack Kerouac. On the Road is based on the travels of Kerouac and his friends across America. It is considered a defining work of the postwar Beat and Counterculture generations, with its protagonists living life against a backdrop of jazz, poetry and drug use.

The idea for On the Road formed during the late 1940s. It was to be Kerouac's second novel, and it underwent several drafts before he completed it in April 1951. It was first published by Viking Press in 1957.

When the book was originally released, The New York Times hailed it as "the most beautifully executed, the clearest and the most important utterance yet made by the generation Kerouac himself named years ago as 'beat,' and whose principal avatar he is."[1] In 1998, the Modern Library ranked On the Road 55th on its list of the 100 best English-language novels of the 20th century. The novel was chosen by Time magazine as one of the 100 best English-language novels from 1923 to 2005.[2]

 

This section is written like a personal reflection or opinion essay rather than an encyclopedic description of the subject. Please help improve it by rewriting it in an encyclopedic style. (December 2012)

Many aspects go into understanding the context of On the Road, and they must be viewed cohesively in order to appreciate why the book was as relevant and pertinent as it was. The following issues are important to consider as the foundation for the book and its reception by the public.

Kerouac biography[edit]

Kerouac was born in a French-Canadian neighborhood of Lowell, Massachusetts, and learned English at age six. (He had difficulty with the language into his teens.) He grew up in a devout Catholic home, and this influence manifested itself throughout the work. During high school, Kerouac was a star football player and earned a scholarship to Columbia University. After dropping out following a conflict with the football coach, he then served on several different sailing vessels before returning to New York in search of inspiration to write. Here he met the likes of Allen Ginsberg and William Burroughs who would not only become characters in the book but also form the core of the Beat Generation.[3]

Many of the events depicted in the book are the experiences that shaped both its content and production. Kerouac met Neal Cassady, who would become Dean Moriarty, in December 1946 and began his road adventures in 1947 while writing what would become The Town and the City. The adventures themselves, which took place between 1947 and 1950, were meant to help him overcome writers block during early attempts to write the book. It was through letters and other interactions with his friends that Kerouac decided to write the first person narrative that became On the Road as we know it today.[3]

The publication process was another adventure unto itself, which took a major psychological toll on Kerouac. He was discouraged by the struggle (even though he continued to write during the period) and finally agreed to substantially revise the original version after years of failed negotiations with different publishers. He removed several parts in order to focus the story and also to protect himself from potential issues of libel. He also continued to write feverishly after its publication in spite of attacks from critics.[3]

Historical context[edit]

On the Road portrays the story of a fierce personal quest for meaning and belonging. This comes at an interesting point in American history when conformity was praised and outsiders were suspect. The Beat Generation arose out of a time of intense conflict, both internally and externally.

The issues of the Cold War, the Second Red Scare and McCarthyism took center stage of the cultural arena in the 1950s. As the U.S government cracked down on left-wing influences at home and abroad, the sentiment of unifying and banding together led to extreme measures of censorship and control.

The Cold War was the backdrop for this fight. In a short time after defeating Germany, the Soviet Union fell from ally to threat in the eyes of the United States. In the postwar reconstruction process, the two powers found themselves continually at odds. The sentiment arose clearly as a struggle between two opposing ways of life. Contention over Soviet support for alleged communist revolution in Iran, then Turkey and Greece, led to the American policy of containment and the Truman Doctrine. Before a joint session of Congress on March 12, 1947, President Harry S. Truman stated, "I believe it must be the policy of the United States to support the people who are resisting attempted subjugation by armed minorities or by outside pressures."[4] That summer, Secretary of State George C. Marshall proposed a plan for the economic reconstruction of Europe. While Western European countries planned how to go about rebuilding with American help, the Soviets walked away and forced the Eastern European countries to do the same. A Soviet aid and recovery plan followed for these countries and would mark the beginning of a punch and counterpunch pattern that would typify the early years of the Cold War. This laid a foundation for the tension that would define the period.[4]

Beat Generation summary[edit]

It was in this climate that some individuals of the young generation were seeking meaning outside the mainstream worldview. Amidst all the conflict and contradiction, the Beats were seeking out a way to navigate through the world. As John Clellon Holmes put it, "Everywhere the Beat Generation seems occupied with the feverish production of answers—some of them frightening, some of them foolish—to a single question: how are we to live?"[5]

The idea of what it means to be "beat" is still difficult to accurately describe. While many critics still consider the word "beat" in its literal sense of "tired and beaten down," others, including Kerouac himself promoted the generation more in sense of "beatific" or blissful.[6] "Beat" can also be read as a 'rhythm' such as in music, as in Jazz - a rhythmic beat or 'the rhythm of life' itself.

Holmes and Kerouac published several articles in popular magazines in an attempt to explain the movement. In the November 16, 1952 New York Times Sunday Magazine, he wrote a piece exposing the faces of the Beat Generation. "[O]ne day [Kerouac] said, 'You know, this is a really beat generation' ... More than mere weariness, it implies the feeling of having been used, of being raw. It involves a sort of nakedness of mind, and ultimately, of soul: a feeling of being reduced to the bedrock of consciousness. In short, it means being undramatically pushed up against the wall of oneself."[7] He distinguishes Beats from the Lost Generation of the 1920s pointing out how the Beats are not lost but how they are searching for answers to all of life's questions. Kerouac's preoccupation with writers like Ernest Hemingway shaped his view of the beat generation. He uses a prose style which he adapted from Hemingway and throughout On the Road he alludes to novels like The Sun Also Rises. "How to live seems much more crucial than why."[7] In many ways, it is a spiritual journey, a quest to find belief, belonging, and meaning in life. Not content with the uniformity promoted by government and consumer culture, the Beats yearned for a deeper, more sensational experience.

Holmes expands his attempt to define the generation in a 1958 article in Esquire magazine. This article was able to take more of a look back at the formation of the movement as it was published after On the Road. "It describes the state of mind from which all unessentials have been stripped, leaving it receptive to everything around it, but impatient with trivial obstructions. To be beat is to be at the bottom of your personality, looking up."[5]

Literary context[edit]

At the time of publication, On the Road was not the first book to criticize contemporary American culture. A nonconformist sentiment characterized the arts and popular culture of the 1950s as a way of rejecting societal norms. Many of the best selling books of the time achieved this same mission.[4]

J. D. Salinger produced the first shock to the tranquil suburban landscape with the publication of The Catcher in the Rye in 1951. His protagonist Holden Caulfield struck a chord with young readers also at odds with the adult world. Caulfield's rejection of the regimentation and "phoniness" of the world around him resonated with the struggle for meaning that drove the Beat Generation. Salinger's rejection of traditional middle-class values signaled the first widely recognized public stand against the cultural conformist pressure.[4]

Among the best-selling novels of 1950s was Peyton Place by Grace Metalious. Published in September 1956, it managed to be the second most sold book in the country that year and then to top the chart in 1957. In fact, it went on to be the best-selling book in American history up to that point.[8] Often cited as the prime example of the decline in American culture of the decade, the novel examines the traditional values of a New England mill town by introducing the complications of extramarital sexual affairs. A book that received a broad range of reviews after publication, Peyton Place's popularity shows that popular culture was ready for a break from their traditional expectations.[8]

Another popular contemporary was Sloan Wilson's The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit (1955) that dealt with the increasing suburbanization of American society. Tom Rath struggles with the dilemma of following his conscience or pursuing the big salary and lush lifestyle typically portrayed of the 1950s family. In the end, though, he discovers that he can have both. While Wilson can be seen as chastising the societal norms at times, he concludes with his character achieving them. This shows the dichotomy of attitudes toward the middle-class values of the day.[9]

Production and publication[edit]

  

The scroll, exhibited at the Boott Cotton Mills Museum in Lowell, Massachusetts, summer 2007

Kerouac often promoted the story about how in April 1951 he wrote the novel in three weeks, typing continuously onto a 120-foot roll of teletype paper.[10] Although the story is true per se, the book was in fact the result of a long and arduous creative process. Kerouac carried small notebooks, in which much of the text was written as the eventful span of road trips unfurled. He started working on the first of several versions of the novel as early as 1948, based on experiences during his first long road trip in 1947. However, he remained dissatisfied with the novel.[11] Inspired by a thousand-word rambling letter from his friend Neal Cassady, Kerouac in 1950 outlined the "Essentials of Spontaneous Prose" and decided to tell the story of his years on the road with Cassady as if writing a letter to a friend in a form that reflected the improvisational fluidity of jazz.[12]

The first draft of what was to become the published novel was written in three weeks in April 1951 while Kerouac lived with Joan Haverty, his second wife, at 454 West 20th Street in Manhattan, New York. The manuscript was typed on what he called "the scroll"—a continuous, one hundred and twenty-foot scroll of tracing paper sheets that he cut to size and taped together.[13] The roll was typed single-spaced, without margins or paragraph breaks. In the following years, Kerouac continued to revise this manuscript, deleting some sections (including some sexual depictions deemed pornographic in the 1950s) and adding smaller literary passages.[14] Kerouac authored a number of inserts intended for On the Road between 1951 and 1952, before eventually omitting them from the manuscript and using them to form the basis of another work, Visions of Cody.[15] On the Road was championed within Viking Press by Malcolm Cowley and was published by Viking in 1957, based on revisions of the 1951 manuscript.[16] Besides differences in formatting, the published novel was shorter than the original scroll manuscript and used pseudonyms for all of the major characters.

Viking Press released a slightly edited version of the original manuscript on 16 August 2007 titled On the Road: The Original Scroll corresponding with the 50th anniversary of original publication. This version has been transcribed and edited by English academic and novelist Dr. Howard Cunnell. As well as containing material that was excised from the original draft due to its explicit nature, the scroll version also uses the real names of the protagonists, so Dean Moriarty becomes Neal Cassady and Carlo Marx becomes Allen Ginsberg, etc.[17]

In 2007, Gabriel Anctil, a journalist of the Montreal's daily Le Devoir discovered, in Kerouac's personal archives in New York, almost 200 pages of his writings entirely in Quebec French, with colloquialisms. The collection included ten manuscript pages of an unfinished version of On the Road, written on January 19, 1951. The date of the writings makes Kerouac one of the earliest known authors to use colloquial Quebec French in literature.[18]

Plot summary[edit]

 

The two main characters of the book are the narrator, Salvatore "Sal" Paradise, and his new friend Dean Moriarty, much admired for his carefree attitude and sense for adventure, a free-spirited maverick eager to explore all kicks and an inspiration and catalyst for Sal's travels. The novel contains five parts, three of them describing road trips with Moriarty. The narrative takes place in the years 1947 to 1950, is full of Americana, and marks a specific era in jazz history, "somewhere between its Charlie Parker Ornithology period and another period that began with Miles Davis." The novel is largely autobiographical, Sal being the alter ego of the author and Dean standing for Neal Cassady. The epic nature of the adventures and the text itself creates a tremendous sense of meaning and purpose for the themes and lessons.

Part One[edit]

The first section describes Sal's first trip to San Francisco. Disheartened after a divorce, his life changes when he meets Dean Moriarty, who is "tremendously excited with life," and begins to long for the freedom of the road: "Somewhere along the line I knew there would be girls, visions, everything; somewhere along the line the pearl would be handed to me." He sets off in July 1947 with fifty dollars in his pocket. After taking several buses and hitchhiking, he arrives in Denver, where he hooks up with Carlo Marx, Dean, and their friends. There are parties — among them an excursion to the ghost town of Central City. Eventually Sal leaves by bus and gets to San Francisco, where he meets Remi Boncoeur and his girlfriend Lee Ann. Remi arranges for Sal to take a job as a night watchman at a boarding camp for merchant sailors waiting for their ship. Not holding this job for long, Sal hits the road again. "Oh, where is the girl I love?" he wonders. Soon he meets Terry, the "cutest little Mexican girl," on the bus to Los Angeles. They stay together, traveling back to Bakersfield, then to Sabinal, "her hometown," where her family works in the fields. He meets Terry's brother Ricky, who teaches him the true meaning of "mañana" ("tomorrow"). Working in the cotton fields, Sal realizes that he is not made for this type of work. Leaving Terry behind, he takes the bus back to New York and walks the final stretch from Times Square to Paterson, just missing Dean, who had come to see him, by two days.

In this section, Kerouac not only introduces many of the book's characters but also its central conflicts and dilemmas. He initially shows Sal as the deep thinking writer who yearns for greater freedom. As the plot unfolds he shows the depth and degree of Sal's internal conflict in the pursuit of "kicks," torn between the romanticized freedom of the open road and practicality of a more settled, domestic life. Dean appears as the "yellow roman candle" that catalyzes the action of the novel. His uncontainable spirit invites Sal to follow but also foreshadows problems of commitment and devotion that will reappear later on.

Part Two[edit]

In December 1948 Sal is celebrating Christmas with his relatives in Testament, Virginia when Dean shows up with Marylou (having left his second wife, Camille, and their newborn baby, Amy, in San Francisco) and Ed Dunkel. Sal's Christmas plans are shattered as "now the bug was on me again, and the bug's name was Dean Moriarty." First they drive to New York, where they meet Carlo and party. Dean wants Sal to make love to Marylou, but Sal declines. In Dean's Hudson they take off from New York in January 1949 and make it to New Orleans. In Algiers they stay with the morphine-addicted Old Bull Lee and his wife Jane. Galatea Dunkel joins her husband in New Orleans while Sal, Dean, and Marylou continue their trip. Once in San Francisco, Dean again leaves Marylou to be with Camille. "Dean will leave you out in the cold anytime it is in the interest of him," Marylou tells Sal. Both of them stay briefly in a hotel, but soon she moves out, following a nightclub owner. Sal is alone and on Market Street has visions of past lives, birth, and rebirth. Dean finds him and invites him to stay with his family. Together, they visit nightclubs and listen to Slim Gaillard and other jazz musicians. The stay ends on a sour note: "what I accomplished by coming to Frisco I don't know," and Sal departs, taking the bus back to New York.

In this section, Marylou sums up the dilemma of Dean's lack of commitment and selfishness when she says that he will always leave you if it isn't in his interest. This central conflict appears again after Dean returns to Camille in San Francisco, abandoning his two travel companions. Sal again finds himself at a loss for purpose and direction. He has spent his time following the other characters but is unfulfilled by the frantic nature of this life. Much of the euphoria has worn off as he becomes more contemplative and philosophical.

Part Three[edit]

In the spring of 1949, Sal takes a bus from New York to Denver. He is depressed and "lonesome"; none of his friends are around. After receiving some money, he leaves Denver for San Francisco to see Dean. Camille is pregnant and unhappy, and Dean has injured his thumb trying to hit Marylou for sleeping with other men. Camille throws them out, and Sal invites Dean to come to New York, planning to travel further to Italy. They meet Galatea, who tells Dean off: "You have absolutely no regard for anybody but yourself and your kicks." Sal realizes she is right — Dean is the "HOLY GOOF" — but also defends him, as "he's got the secret that we're all busting to find out." After a night of jazz and drinking in Little Harlem on Folsom Street, they depart. On the way to Sacramento they meet a "fag," who propositions them. Dean tries to hustle some money out of this but is turned down. During this part of the trip Sal and Dean have ecstatic discussions having found "IT" and "TIME." In Denver a brief argument shows the growing rift between the two, when Dean reminds Sal of his age, Sal being the older of the two. They get a '47 Cadillac from the travel bureau that needs to be brought to Chicago. Dean drives most of the way, crazy, careless, often speeding over 100 miles per hour, bringing it in a disheveled state. By bus they move on to Detroit and spend a night on Skid Row, Dean hoping to find his homeless father. From Detroit they share a ride to New York and arrive at Sal's aunt's new flat in Long Island. They go on partying in New York, where Dean meets Inez and gets her pregnant while his wife is expecting their second child.

After seeing how he treats Camille and Marylou, Sal finally begins to realize the nature of his relationship with Dean. While he cares greatly about him, several times discussing future plans to live on the same street, he recognizes that the feeling may not be mutual. The situations are beginning to change, though, as Sal has received some money from his recently published book and can begin to support himself and also Dean when he comes to New York. Sal is taking a more active role in his freedom as opposed to just following Dean.

Part Four[edit]

In the spring of 1950, Sal gets the itch to travel again while Dean is working as a parking lot attendant in Manhattan, living with his girlfriend Inez. Sal notices that he has been reduced to simple pleasures — listening to basketball games and looking at erotic playing cards. By bus Sal takes to the road again, passing Washington, Ashland, Cincinnati, St. Louis, and eventually reaching Denver. There he meets Stan Shephard, and the two plan to go to Mexico City when they learn that Dean had bought a car and is on the way to join them. In a rickety '37 Ford sedan the three set off across Texas to Laredo, where they cross the border. They are ecstatic, having left "everything behind us and entering a new and unknown phase of things." Their money buys more (10 cents for a beer), police are laid back, cannabis is readily available, and people are curious and friendly. The landscape is magnificent. In Gregoria, they meet Victor, a local kid, who leads them to a bordello where they have their last grand party, dancing to mambo, drinking, and having fun with prostitutes. In Mexico City Sal becomes ill from dysentery and is "delirious and unconscious." Dean leaves him, and Sal later reflects that "when I got better I realized what a rat he was, but then I had to understand the impossible complexity of his life, how he had to leave me there, sick, to get on with his wives and woes."

In this section we see Dean's selfishness finally extend to Sal, as he leaves Sal abandoned in Mexico City. Sal has sunk to the bottom of his reality having seen Victor put his family obligations over the freedom of the road and Dean was not ready to do the same thing. This is the moment where the paths diverge and Sal realizes that he has more to live for than just constantly moving.

Part Five[edit]

Dean, having obtained divorce papers in Mexico, had first returned to New York to marry Inez, only to leave her and go back to Camille. After his recovery from dysentery in Mexico, Sal returns to New York in the fall. He finds a girl, Laura, and plans to move with her to San Francisco. Sal writes to Dean about his plan to move to San Francisco. Dean writes back saying that he's willing to come and accompany Laura and Sal. Dean arrives over five weeks early but Sal is out taking a late-night walk alone. Sal returns home to Laura and sees a copy of Proust and knows that it is Dean's. Sal realizes that his friend has arrived, but at a time when Sal doesn't have the money to relocate to San Francisco. On hearing this Dean makes the decision to head back to Camille and Sal's friend Remi Boncoeur denies Sal's request to give Dean a short lift to 40th Street on their way to a Duke Ellington concert at the Metropolitan Opera House. Sal's girlfriend Laura realises that this is a painful moment for Sal and prompts him for a response as the party drives off without Dean; to which he replies "He'll be alright". Sal later reflects as he sits on a river pier under a New Jersey night sky about the roads and lands of America that he has travelled and states ". . . I think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of Old Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty."

Character key[edit]

Kerouac often based his fictional characters on friends and family.[19][20]

"Because of the objections of my early publishers I was not allowed to use the same person's name in each work."[21]

Real-life personCharacter name

Jack KerouacSal Paradise

Gabrielle KerouacSal's Aunt

Alan AnsenRollo Greb

William S. BurroughsOld Bull Lee

Joan VollmerJane

Lucien CarrDamion

Neal CassadyDean Moriarty

Carolyn CassadyCamille

Hal ChaseChad King

Henri CruRemi Boncoeur

Bea Franco (Beatrice Kozera)Terry

Allen GinsbergCarlo Marx

Diana HansenInez

Alan HarringtonHal Hingham

Joan HavertyLaura

Luanne HendersonMarylou

Al HinkleEd Dunkel

Helen HinkleGalatea Dunkel

Jim HolmesTom Snark

John Clellon HolmesIan MacArthur

Ed StringhamTom Saybrook

Herbert HunckeElmer Hassel

Frank JeffriesStan Shephard

Gene PippinGene Dexter

Allan TemkoRoland Major

Bill TomsonRoy Johnson

Helen TomsonDorothy Johnson

Ed UhlEd Wall

Helen GullionRita Betancourt

Major themes[edit]

 

The main ideas of the Beat Generation, the longing for belief and meaning in life, are reflected in On the Road. While interest in the book initially revolved more around Kerouac's personal life rather than the literary nature of the text, critical attention has burgeoned in recent years. Although the book can be viewed through many lenses, several major themes rise up from a deeper study.

Kerouac has admitted that the biggest of these themes is religion. In a letter to a student in 1961, he wrote:

"Dean and I were embarked on a journey through post-Whitman America to FIND that America and to FIND the inherent goodness in American man. It was really a story about 2 Catholic buddies roaming the country in search of God. And we found him."

[22]

This idea of an inward adventure is illustrated in all of the experimentation. The Beats had a more liberal definition of God and spirituality closely related to personal experience.

All of the travel and personal interaction in the book permit an examination of the ideas of masculinity and mobility in the 1950s. While these concepts may seem unrelated, Kerouac weaves them together to provide another form of rebellion against the social norm of conformity. Mary Pannicia Carden examines this and proposes that traveling was a way for the characters to assert their independence. "[Sal and Dean] attempt to replace the model of manhood dominant in capitalist America with a model rooted in foundational American ideals of conquest and self-discovery."[23] Travel is a very symbolic act both in history and in literature of coming of age and self-realization, especially for males. But not only do they see conformity as restricting, but in many senses, they view women this way as well. "Reassigning disempowering elements of patriarchy to female keeping, they attempt to substitute male brotherhood for the nuclear family and to replace the ladder of success with the freedom of the road as primary measures of male identity."[23] The interactions of the book come down to balances of power and gains and losses of masculinity. Even though they seek to defy its traditional markers, Dean and Sal also rely on this masculinity in their self-definition. In the end, their divergence to different paths reflects Sal's understanding of the limitations of complete freedom that is sought on the road in so far as it pertains to relations to culture and identity.

In a broader sense, On the Road's major lesson is about the proper way of growing up. Unlike Holden Caulfield, Sal Paradise is struggling with getting through adolescence and maturity rather than delaying it. We see this contrasted with Dean Moriarty who is portrayed as the depiction of a child, always on the move. Sal's struggle is how to balance these opposing forces. We saw these exact issues in Holmes's definition of the Beat Generation as a whole, of which Sal Paradise becomes the metaphorical face.

Language[edit]

 

In addition to the themes and controversial topics addressed in On the Road, Kerouac's apparently erratic writing style garnered much attention for the novel. Some have said that On the Road was merely a transitional phase in between the traditional narrative structure of The Town and the City (1951) and the so-called "wild form" of Kerouac's later books like Visions of Cody (1972).[24]

Kerouac's own explanation of his style begins with the publication of "Essentials of Spontaneous Prose" (1953) in which he outlines the core features of his techniques. He likens his writing to Impressionist painters who sought to create art through direct observation. He endeavored to present a raw version of truth which did not lend itself to the traditional process of revision and rewriting but rather the emotionally charged practice of spontaneity he pursued.[25]

This spontaneity produced a book that was not only readable in 1957 but still captures the attention of audiences today. The personal nature of the text helps foster a direct link between Kerouac and the reader. Because he is writing about actual experiences, conveying appropriately the environment provided this connection. Kerouac chose to do this through his detailed descriptions, rarely pausing for a breath between sentences. His more casual diction and very relaxed syntax, although viewed as less than serious by some, was an intentional attempt to depict events as they happened and to convey all of the energy and emotion of the experiences.[25]

Reception[edit]

 

The book received a mixed reaction from the media in 1957. Some of the earlier reviews spoke highly of the book, but the backlash to these was swift and strong. Although this was discouraging to Kerouac, he still received great recognition and notoriety from the work. Since its publication, critical attention has focused on issues of both the context and the style, addressing the actions of the characters as well as the nature of Kerouac's prose.

Initial reaction[edit]

In his review for The New York Times, Gilbert Millstein wrote, "its publication is a historic occasion in so far as the exposure of an authentic work of art is of any great moment in an age in which the attention is fragmented and the sensibilities are blunted by the superlatives of fashion" and praised it as "a major novel."[1] Millstein was already sympathetic toward the Beat Generation and his promotion of the book in the Times did wonders for its recognition and acclaim. Not only did he like the themes, but also the style, which would come to be just as hotly contested in the reviews that followed. "There are sections of On the Road in which the writing is of a beauty almost breathtaking...there is some writing on jazz that has never been equaled in American fiction, either for insight, style, or technical virtuosity."[1] Kerouac and Joyce Johnson, a younger writer he was living with, read the review shortly after midnight at a newsstand at 69th Street and Broadway, near Joyce's apartment in the Upper West Side. They took their copy of the newspaper to a neighborhood bar and read the review over and over. "Jack kept shaking his head," Joyce remembered later in her memoir Minor Characters, "as if he couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t happier than he was." Finally, they returned to her apartment to go to sleep. As Joyce recalled: "Jack lay down obscure for the last time in his life. The ringing phone woke him the next morning, and he was famous.”[26]

The backlash began just a few days later in the same publication. David Dempsey published a review that contradicted most of what Millstein had promoted in the book. "As a portrait of a disjointed segment of society acting out of its own neurotic necessity, "On the Road", is a stunning achievement. But it is a road, as far as the characters are concerned, that leads to nowhere." While he did not discount the stylistic nature of the text (saying that it was written "with great relish"), he dismissed the content as a "passionate lark" rather than a novel."[27]

Other reviewers were also less than impressed. Phoebe Lou Adams in Atlantic Monthly wrote that it "disappoints because it constantly promises a revelation or a conclusion of real importance and general applicability, and cannot deliver any such conclusion because Dean is more convincing as an eccentric than as a representative of any segment of humanity."[28] While she liked the writing and found a good theme, her concern was repetition. "Everything Mr. Kerouac has to say about Dean has been told in the first third of the book, and what comes later is a series of variations on the same theme."[28]

The review from Time exhibited a similar sentiment. "The post-World War II generation—beat or beatific—has not found symbolic spokesmen with anywhere near the talents of Fitzgerald, Hemingway, or Nathaniel West. In this novel, talented Author Kerouac, 35, does not join that literary league, either, but at least suggests that his generation is not silent. With his barbaric yawp of a book, Kerouac commands attention as a kind of literary James Dean."[29] It considers the book partly a travel book and partly a collection of journal jottings. While Kerouac sees his characters as "mad to live...desirous of everything at the same time," the reviewer likens them to cases of "psychosis that is a variety of Ganser Syndrome" who "aren't really mad—they only seem to be."[29]

Current reactions[edit]

On the Road has been the object of much study since its publication. In celebration of the 50th anniversary of publication, several critics took a fresh look at the text in 2007. It is interesting to consider how the perception has evolved in the last half century.

David Brooks of the New York Times compiled several of these opinions and summarized them in an Op-Ed from October 2, 2007. Where as Millstein saw it as a story in which the heroes took pleasure in everything, George Mouratidis, an editor of a new edition, claimed "above all else, the story is about loss." "It's a book about death and the search for something meaningful to hold on to — the famous search for 'IT,' a truth larger than the self, which, of course, is never found," wrote Meghan O'Rourke in Slate. "Kerouac was this deep, lonely, melancholy man," Hilary Holladay of the University of Massachusetts Lowell told The Philadelphia Inquirer. "And if you read the book closely, you see that sense of loss and sorrow swelling on every page." "In truth, 'On the Road' is a book of broken dreams and failed plans," wrote Ted Gioia in The Weekly Standard.[30]

John Leland, author of Why Kerouac Matters: The Lessons of On the Road (They're Not What You Think), says "We're no longer shocked by the sex and drugs. The slang is passé and at times corny. Some of the racial sentimentality is appalling" but adds "the tale of passionate friendship and the search for revelation are timeless. These are as elusive and precious in our time as in Sal's, and will be when our grandchildren celebrate the book's hundredth anniversary."[31]

To Brooks, this characterization seems limited. "Reading through the anniversary commemorations, you feel the gravitational pull of the great Boomer Narcissus. All cultural artifacts have to be interpreted through whatever experiences the Baby Boomer generation is going through at that moment. So a book formerly known for its youthful exuberance now becomes a gloomy middle-aged disillusion."[30] He laments how the book's spirit seems to have been tamed by the professionalism of America today and how it has only survived in parts. The more reckless and youthful parts of the text that gave it its energy are the parts that have "run afoul of the new gentility, the rules laid down by the health experts, childcare experts, guidance counselors, safety advisers, admissions officers, virtuecrats and employers to regulate the lives of the young."[30] He claims that the "ethos" of the book has been lost.

Influence[edit]

 

On the Road has been a major influence on many poets, writers, actors and musicians, including Bob Dylan, Van Morrison, Jim Morrison, Hunter S. Thompson, and many more.

"It changed my life like it changed everyone else's," Dylan would say many years later. Tom Waits, too, acknowledged its influence, hymning Jack and Neal in a song and calling the Beats "father figures." At least two great American photographers were influenced by Kerouac: Robert Frank, who became his close friend — Kerouac wrote the introduction to Franks' book, The Americans — and Stephen Shore, who set out on an American road trip in the 1970s with Kerouac's book as a guide. It would be hard to imagine Hunter S. Thompson's road novel Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas had On the Road not laid down the template; likewise, films such as Easy Rider, Paris, Texas, and even Thelma and Louise.[32]

In his book Light My Fire: My Life with The Doors, Ray Manzarek (keyboard player of The Doors) wrote "I suppose if Jack Kerouac had never written On the Road, The Doors would never have existed."

Since the mobile lifestyle popularized by "On The Road" had a strong influence on the large market segment of baby boomers who joined the hippie movement the death of Jack Kerouac was of interest to the readers of the pioneering new journalism publication Rolling Stone. As a result, editor and publisher of the tabloid, Jann Wenner, printed a detailed account of the funeral of the "On The Road" author by writers Stephen Davis and Eric Ehrmann. According to the Rolling Stone article, Jack Kerouac's open casket viewing at the Archambault Funeral Home and subsequent burial funeral at the Edson Cemetery in Lowell, Massachusetts were attended by few of his "On The Road" era friends. Neal Cassady (Dean Moriarty in the book) had died the year before in 1968. San Francisco poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti chose not to come east to attend. Allen Ginsberg (Carlo Marx in the book) showed up with Peter Orlovsky and Gregory Corso was there filming the event. Author Terry Southern sent a floral arrangement that was on display near the bier. One writer in attendance not associated with the "On The Road" group or Beatnik crowd was New York Daily News columnist Jimmy Breslin, who, like Kerouac, came from a working-class background. Breslin, who had been inspired by "On The Road" in his youth, journeyed up to Lowell to pay his respects, his feelings about Kerouac's appearing as part of the Rolling Stone coverage. Many writers, actors and artists including Ann Charters and Hettie Jones, inter alia, would later share their feelings about how they were influenced by "On The Road" and the Beat culture in the Rolling Stone Book of The Beats edited by Holly George Warren published by Hyperion in 1999.

 

Dutch postcard by Van Leer's Fotodrukindustrie N.V., Amsterdam, no. 351. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

 

Lena Horne (1917-2010) was an American singer, dancer, actress, and human rights activist. She is known as one of the most popular African American entertainers of the twentieth century. She starred in the film musicals Cabin in the Sky (1943) and Stormy Weather (1943)

 

Lena Mary Calhoun Horne was born in 1917 in New York into a family that had African and Native American as well as European ancestors on both sides. Her father, Edwin "Teddy" Horne, who worked in the gambling trade, left the family when Lena was three. Her mother, Edna, was an actress with an African American theater troupe and traveled extensively. Horne was mainly raised by her grandparents, Cora Calhoun and Edwin Horne. From an early age, Horne had ambitions of becoming a performer—much against the wishes of her family, who felt she should have higher goals. The Hornes were an established middle-class family, with several members holding college degrees and distinguished positions in organizations such as the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and the Urban League (a group that worked to increase the economic and political power of minorities and to end discrimination based on race). Nonetheless, Horne pursued her own course. At the age of 16, she made her debut as a dancer and singer in the chorus of Harlem's famous Cotton Club. There she performed with Cab Calloway's orchestra, among others. In 1934, she took voice lessons and landed a small role in an all-black Broadway show 'Dance with Your Gods'. In 1935-1936, she toured as a singer with the Noble Sissles orchestra and recorded her first two albums for Decca Records. Horne married minor politician Louis Jones in 1937. They had a daughter, Gail, and a son, Edwin, but separated in 1940 and divorced in 1944.

 

Lena Horne gained some stage experience in Lew Leslie's revues, 'Blackbirds of 1939' and 'Blackbirds of 1940', and in 1940 she joined one of the great white swing bands, the Charlie Barnet Orchestra. But as the group's only black member she suffered many humiliations of racial prejudice, especially from hotels and restaurants that catered exclusively to whites. In 1943 a long booking at the SavoyPlaza Hotel, which brought Horne national coverage and a number of movie appearances, established her as the highest-paid African American entertainer in the United States. She was signed to a seven-year contract with Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM)—the first African American woman since 1915 to sign a term contract with a film studio. She was not dark enough in colour to star with many of the African American actors of the day and her roles in white films were limited, since Hollywood was not ready to portray interracial relationships on screen. She had several minor roles before she had a major role in the musical Cabin in the Sky (Vincente Minnelli, 1943) opposite Ethel Waters and Rex Ingram. MGM made this musical with exclusively black actors, which was a financial risk at the time as some cinemas refused films starring black actors. One song was cut from the film: 'Ain't It the Truth' sung by Lena Horne in a bubble bath. It was considered too piquant for the time. She also starred in the musical Stormy Weather (Andrew L. Stone, 1943) loosely based on the life of dancer Bill Robinson. Robinson himself co-starred and in the cast were also African-American actors, singers, and dancers such as Cab Calloway, Fats Waller, and the Nicholas brothers. The soundtrack earned Horne a world hit, 'Stormy Weather'. Then followed some nonspeaking roles in Broadway Rhythm (1944), Two Girls and a Sailor (1944), and a musical biography of Rodgers and Hart, Words and Music (1948). She refused to take on any roles that were disrespectful to her as a woman of colour.

 

As an African-American, Lena Horne was systematically discriminated against in the further development of her career, which discouraged her and matured her leftist ideas. After World War II, she spent several years in Western Europe, performing in the Netherlands and Belgium, among other places. After returning to the United States, in the era of McCarthyism, she was blacklisted by Hollywood for her left-wing sympathies. However, she was able to continue working in nightclubs and regularly for television. In the 1960s she increasingly acted as a human rights activist and, among other things, took part with Martin Luther King in the 1966 peace march to Jackson. In the 1970s and 1980s, Horne again appeared regularly in television shows, including The Muppet Show and The Cosby Show. In the early 1980s, she starred more than 100 times on Broadway in the one-woman show Lena Horne: The Lady and Her Music. Horne was inducted into the Georgia Music Hall of Fame in 1991 and received many awards, including the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1989. Horne was married to pianist, composer, and arranger Lennie Hayton. The singer died in May 2010 at the age of almost 93.

 

Sources: Encyclopedia of World Biography, Wikipedia (English and Dutch), and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

an 11 shot, 360 degree vertical stitch of an empty Jefferson Memorial. A first for me (empty memorial and a 360 pano)

Belgian collectors card by Kwatta, Bois d'Haine. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

 

Lena Horne (1917-2010) was an American singer, dancer, actress, and human rights activist. She is known as one of the most popular African American entertainers of the twentieth century. She starred in the film musicals Cabin in the Sky (1943) and Stormy Weather (1943)

 

Lena Mary Calhoun Horne was born in 1917 in New York into a family that had African and Native American as well as European ancestors on both sides. Her father, Edwin "Teddy" Horne, who worked in the gambling trade, left the family when Lena was three. Her mother, Edna, was an actress with an African American theater troupe and traveled extensively. Horne was mainly raised by her grandparents, Cora Calhoun and Edwin Horne. From an early age, Horne had ambitions of becoming a performer—much against the wishes of her family, who felt she should have higher goals. The Hornes were an established middle-class family, with several members holding college degrees and distinguished positions in organizations such as the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and the Urban League (a group that worked to increase the economic and political power of minorities and to end discrimination based on race). Nonetheless, Horne pursued her own course. At the age of 16, she made her debut as a dancer and singer in the chorus of Harlem's famous Cotton Club. There she performed with Cab Calloway's orchestra, among others. In 1934, she took voice lessons and landed a small role in an all-black Broadway show 'Dance with Your Gods'. In 1935-1936, she toured as a singer with the Noble Sissles orchestra and recorded her first two albums for Decca Records. Horne married minor politician Louis Jones in 1937. They had a daughter, Gail, and a son, Edwin, but separated in 1940 and divorced in 1944.

 

Lena Horne gained some stage experience in Lew Leslie's revues, 'Blackbirds of 1939' and 'Blackbirds of 1940', and in 1940 she joined one of the great white swing bands, the Charlie Barnet Orchestra. But as the group's only black member she suffered many humiliations of racial prejudice, especially from hotels and restaurants that catered exclusively to whites. In 1943 a long booking at the SavoyPlaza Hotel, which brought Horne national coverage and a number of movie appearances, established her as the highest-paid African American entertainer in the United States. She was signed to a seven-year contract with Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM)—the first African American woman since 1915 to sign a term contract with a film studio. She was not dark enough in colour to star with many of the African American actors of the day and her roles in white films were limited, since Hollywood was not ready to portray interracial relationships on screen. She had several minor roles before she had a major role in the musical Cabin in the Sky (Vincente Minnelli, 1943) opposite Ethel Waters and Rex Ingram. MGM made this musical with exclusively black actors, which was a financial risk at the time as some cinemas refused films starring black actors. One song was cut from the film: 'Ain't It the Truth' sung by Lena Horne in a bubble bath. It was considered too piquant for the time. She also starred in the musical Stormy Weather (Andrew L. Stone, 1943) loosely based on the life of dancer Bill Robinson. Robinson himself co-starred and in the cast were also African-American actors, singers, and dancers such as Cab Calloway, Fats Waller, and the Nicholas brothers. The soundtrack earned Horne a world hit, 'Stormy Weather'. Then followed some nonspeaking roles in Broadway Rhythm (1944), Two Girls and a Sailor (1944), and a musical biography of Rodgers and Hart, Words and Music (1948). She refused to take on any roles that were disrespectful to her as a woman of colour.

 

As an African-American, Lena Horne was systematically discriminated against in the further development of her career, which discouraged her and matured her leftist ideas. After World War II, she spent several years in Western Europe, performing in the Netherlands and Belgium, among other places. After returning to the United States, in the era of McCarthyism, she was blacklisted by Hollywood for her left-wing sympathies. However, she was able to continue working in nightclubs and regularly for television. In the 1960s she increasingly acted as a human rights activist and, among other things, took part with Martin Luther King in the 1966 peace march to Jackson. In the 1970s and 1980s, Horne again appeared regularly in television shows, including The Muppet Show and The Cosby Show. In the early 1980s, she starred more than 100 times on Broadway in the one-woman show Lena Horne: The Lady and Her Music. Horne was inducted into the Georgia Music Hall of Fame in 1991 and received many awards, including the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1989. Horne was married to pianist, composer, and arranger Lennie Hayton. The singer died in May 2010 at the age of almost 93.

 

Sources: Encyclopedia of World Biography, Wikipedia (English and Dutch), and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

British postcard in the Picturegoer Series, London, no. W. 701. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

 

Lena Horne (1917-2010) was an American singer, dancer, actress, and human rights activist. She is known as one of the most popular African American entertainers of the twentieth century. She starred in the film musicals Cabin in the Sky (1943) and Stormy Weather (1943)

 

Lena Mary Calhoun Horne was born in 1917 in New York into a family that had African and Native American as well as European ancestors on both sides. Her father, Edwin "Teddy" Horne, who worked in the gambling trade, left the family when Lena was three. Her mother, Edna, was an actress with an African American theater troupe and traveled extensively. Horne was mainly raised by her grandparents, Cora Calhoun and Edwin Horne. From an early age, Horne had ambitions of becoming a performer—much against the wishes of her family, who felt she should have higher goals. The Hornes were an established middle-class family, with several members holding college degrees and distinguished positions in organizations such as the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and the Urban League (a group that worked to increase the economic and political power of minorities and to end discrimination based on race). Nonetheless, Horne pursued her own course. At the age of 16, she made her debut as a dancer and singer in the chorus of Harlem's famous Cotton Club. There she performed with Cab Calloway's orchestra, among others. In 1934, she took voice lessons and landed a small role in an all-black Broadway show 'Dance with Your Gods'. In 1935-1936, she toured as a singer with the Noble Sissles orchestra and recorded her first two albums for Decca Records. Horne married minor politician Louis Jones in 1937. They had a daughter, Gail, and a son, Edwin, but separated in 1940 and divorced in 1944.

 

Lena Horne gained some stage experience in Lew Leslie's revues, 'Blackbirds of 1939' and 'Blackbirds of 1940', and in 1940 she joined one of the great white swing bands, the Charlie Barnet Orchestra. But as the group's only black member she suffered many humiliations of racial prejudice, especially from hotels and restaurants that catered exclusively to whites. In 1943 a long booking at the SavoyPlaza Hotel, which brought Horne national coverage and a number of movie appearances, established her as the highest-paid African American entertainer in the United States. She was signed to a seven-year contract with Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM)—the first African American woman since 1915 to sign a term contract with a film studio. She was not dark enough in colour to star with many of the African American actors of the day and her roles in white films were limited, since Hollywood was not ready to portray interracial relationships on screen. She had several minor roles before she had a major role in the musical Cabin in the Sky (Vincente Minnelli, 1943) opposite Ethel Waters and Rex Ingram. MGM made this musical with exclusively black actors, which was a financial risk at the time as some cinemas refused films starring black actors. One song was cut from the film: 'Ain't It the Truth' sung by Lena Horne in a bubble bath. It was considered too piquant for the time. She also starred in the musical Stormy Weather (Andrew L. Stone, 1943) loosely based on the life of dancer Bill Robinson. Robinson himself co-starred and in the cast were also African-American actors, singers, and dancers such as Cab Calloway, Fats Waller, and the Nicholas brothers. The soundtrack earned Horne a world hit, 'Stormy Weather'. Then followed some nonspeaking roles in Broadway Rhythm (1944), Two Girls and a Sailor (1944), and a musical biography of Rodgers and Hart, Words and Music (1948). She refused to take on any roles that were disrespectful to her as a woman of colour.

 

As an African-American, Lena Horne was systematically discriminated against in the further development of her career, which discouraged her and matured her leftist ideas. After World War II, she spent several years in Western Europe, performing in the Netherlands and Belgium, among other places. After returning to the United States, in the era of McCarthyism, she was blacklisted by Hollywood for her left-wing sympathies. However, she was able to continue working in nightclubs and regularly for television. In the 1960s she increasingly acted as a human rights activist and, among other things, took part with Martin Luther King in the 1966 peace march to Jackson. In the 1970s and 1980s, Horne again appeared regularly in television shows, including The Muppet Show and The Cosby Show. In the early 1980s, she starred more than 100 times on Broadway in the one-woman show Lena Horne: The Lady and Her Music. Horne was inducted into the Georgia Music Hall of Fame in 1991 and received many awards, including the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1989. Horne was married to pianist, composer, and arranger Lennie Hayton. The singer died in May 2010 at the age of almost 93.

 

Sources: Encyclopedia of World Biography, Wikipedia (English and Dutch), and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

 

Rafael Edward Cruz, aka Ted Cruz, is a Republican United States Senator for the state of Texas. He is a running for President in the Republican primary.

 

This caricature of Ted Cruz was adapted from a Creative Commons licensed photo from from Gage Skidmores's Flickr photostream. The body was adapted from a Creative Commons licensed photo from from Gage Skidmores's Flickr photostream.

 

Dutch postcard by DFV, no. AX 1397. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

 

Lena Horne (1917-2010) was an American singer, dancer, actress, and human rights activist. She is known as one of the most popular African American entertainers of the twentieth century. She starred in the film musicals Cabin in the Sky (1943) and Stormy Weather (1943)

 

Lena Mary Calhoun Horne was born in 1917 in New York into a family that had African and Native American as well as European ancestors on both sides. Her father, Edwin "Teddy" Horne, who worked in the gambling trade, left the family when Lena was three. Her mother, Edna, was an actress with an African American theater troupe and traveled extensively. Horne was mainly raised by her grandparents, Cora Calhoun and Edwin Horne. From an early age, Horne had ambitions of becoming a performer—much against the wishes of her family, who felt she should have higher goals. The Hornes were an established middle-class family, with several members holding college degrees and distinguished positions in organizations such as the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and the Urban League (a group that worked to increase the economic and political power of minorities and to end discrimination based on race). Nonetheless, Horne pursued her own course. At the age of 16, she made her debut as a dancer and singer in the chorus of Harlem's famous Cotton Club. There she performed with Cab Calloway's orchestra, among others. In 1934, she took voice lessons and landed a small role in an all-black Broadway show 'Dance with Your Gods'. In 1935-1936, she toured as a singer with the Noble Sissles orchestra and recorded her first two albums for Decca Records. Horne married minor politician Louis Jones in 1937. They had a daughter, Gail, and a son, Edwin, but separated in 1940 and divorced in 1944.

 

Lena Horne gained some stage experience in Lew Leslie's revues, 'Blackbirds of 1939' and 'Blackbirds of 1940', and in 1940 she joined one of the great white swing bands, the Charlie Barnet Orchestra. But as the group's only black member she suffered many humiliations of racial prejudice, especially from hotels and restaurants that catered exclusively to whites. In 1943 a long booking at the SavoyPlaza Hotel, which brought Horne national coverage and a number of movie appearances, established her as the highest-paid African American entertainer in the United States. She was signed to a seven-year contract with Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM)—the first African American woman since 1915 to sign a term contract with a film studio. She was not dark enough in colour to star with many of the African American actors of the day and her roles in white films were limited, since Hollywood was not ready to portray interracial relationships on screen. She had several minor roles before she had a major role in the musical Cabin in the Sky (Vincente Minnelli, 1943) opposite Ethel Waters and Rex Ingram. MGM made this musical with exclusively black actors, which was a financial risk at the time as some cinemas refused films starring black actors. One song was cut from the film: 'Ain't It the Truth' sung by Lena Horne in a bubble bath. It was considered too piquant for the time. She also starred in the musical Stormy Weather (Andrew L. Stone, 1943) loosely based on the life of dancer Bill Robinson. Robinson himself co-starred and in the cast were also African-American actors, singers, and dancers such as Cab Calloway, Fats Waller, and the Nicholas brothers. The soundtrack earned Horne a world hit, 'Stormy Weather'. Then followed some nonspeaking roles in Broadway Rhythm (1944), Two Girls and a Sailor (1944), and a musical biography of Rodgers and Hart, Words and Music (1948). She refused to take on any roles that were disrespectful to her as a woman of colour.

 

As an African-American, Lena Horne was systematically discriminated against in the further development of her career, which discouraged her and matured her leftist ideas. After World War II, she spent several years in Western Europe, performing in the Netherlands and Belgium, among other places. After returning to the United States, in the era of McCarthyism, she was blacklisted by Hollywood for her left-wing sympathies. However, she was able to continue working in nightclubs and regularly for television. In the 1960s she increasingly acted as a human rights activist and, among other things, took part with Martin Luther King in the 1966 peace march to Jackson. In the 1970s and 1980s, Horne again appeared regularly in television shows, including The Muppet Show and The Cosby Show. In the early 1980s, she starred more than 100 times on Broadway in the one-woman show Lena Horne: The Lady and Her Music. Horne was inducted into the Georgia Music Hall of Fame in 1991 and received many awards, including the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1989. Horne was married to pianist, composer, and arranger Lennie Hayton. The singer died in May 2010 at the age of almost 93.

 

Sources: Encyclopedia of World Biography, Wikipedia (English and Dutch), and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

On the cover of the British movie magazine “Films Illustrated,” November 1975, “Rooster Cogburn” is a sequel to the 1969 film “True Grit, which also starred Wayne as Cogburn. The plot details the continuing adventures of an aging one-eyed lawman whose badge is suspended due to his record of routine arrests that end in bloodshed. He is offered a chance to redeem himself by bringing in a group of bank robbers who have hijacked a wagon shipment of nitroglycerin, and finds himself aided in his quest by a spinster (Katherine Hepburn) whose father was killed by the criminals. [Source: Wikipedia]

 

Movie trailer: www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVfzM5CqhoY

 

--------------------------------------------------------

 

John Wayne was a supporter of the House Un-American Activities Committee in the 1950s, whose anti-communist investigations are often associated with McCarthyism. Wayne's strong political views meant that he fell out with a number of Hollywood stars, including Katherine Hepburn, who refused to work with him. Years later she relented and saw a lot of integrity in The Duke and was keen to find a project on which they could work together. "Rooster Cogburn" was it -- the one and only movie in which they appear together.

 

Belgian collectors card by Kwatta, Bois d'Haine, no. C. 35. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

 

Lena Horne (1917-2010) was an American singer, dancer, actress, and human rights activist. She is known as one of the most popular African American entertainers of the twentieth century. She starred in the film musicals Cabin in the Sky (1943) and Stormy Weather (1943)

 

Lena Mary Calhoun Horne was born in 1917 in New York into a family that had African and Native American as well as European ancestors on both sides. Her father, Edwin "Teddy" Horne, who worked in the gambling trade, left the family when Lena was three. Her mother, Edna, was an actress with an African American theater troupe and traveled extensively. Horne was mainly raised by her grandparents, Cora Calhoun and Edwin Horne. From an early age, Horne had ambitions of becoming a performer—much against the wishes of her family, who felt she should have higher goals. The Hornes were an established middle-class family, with several members holding college degrees and distinguished positions in organizations such as the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and the Urban League (a group that worked to increase the economic and political power of minorities and to end discrimination based on race). Nonetheless, Horne pursued her own course. At the age of 16, she made her debut as a dancer and singer in the chorus of Harlem's famous Cotton Club. There she performed with Cab Calloway's orchestra, among others. In 1934, she took voice lessons and landed a small role in an all-black Broadway show 'Dance with Your Gods'. In 1935-1936, she toured as a singer with the Noble Sissles orchestra and recorded her first two albums for Decca Records. Horne married minor politician Louis Jones in 1937. They had a daughter, Gail, and a son, Edwin, but separated in 1940 and divorced in 1944.

 

Lena Horne gained some stage experience in Lew Leslie's revues, 'Blackbirds of 1939' and 'Blackbirds of 1940', and in 1940 she joined one of the great white swing bands, the Charlie Barnet Orchestra. But as the group's only black member she suffered many humiliations of racial prejudice, especially from hotels and restaurants that catered exclusively to whites. In 1943 a long booking at the SavoyPlaza Hotel, which brought Horne national coverage and a number of movie appearances, established her as the highest-paid African American entertainer in the United States. She was signed to a seven-year contract with Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM)—the first African American woman since 1915 to sign a term contract with a film studio. She was not dark enough in colour to star with many of the African American actors of the day and her roles in white films were limited, since Hollywood was not ready to portray interracial relationships on screen. She had several minor roles before she had a major role in the musical Cabin in the Sky (Vincente Minnelli, 1943) opposite Ethel Waters and Rex Ingram. MGM made this musical with exclusively black actors, which was a financial risk at the time as some cinemas refused films starring black actors. One song was cut from the film: 'Ain't It the Truth' sung by Lena Horne in a bubble bath. It was considered too piquant for the time. She also starred in the musical Stormy Weather (Andrew L. Stone, 1943) loosely based on the life of dancer Bill Robinson. Robinson himself co-starred and in the cast were also African-American actors, singers, and dancers such as Cab Calloway, Fats Waller, and the Nicholas brothers. The soundtrack earned Horne a world hit, 'Stormy Weather'. Then followed some nonspeaking roles in Broadway Rhythm (1944), Two Girls and a Sailor (1944), and a musical biography of Rodgers and Hart, Words and Music (1948). She refused to take on any roles that were disrespectful to her as a woman of colour.

 

As an African-American, Lena Horne was systematically discriminated against in the further development of her career, which discouraged her and matured her leftist ideas. After World War II, she spent several years in Western Europe, performing in the Netherlands and Belgium, among other places. After returning to the United States, in the era of McCarthyism, she was blacklisted by Hollywood for her left-wing sympathies. However, she was able to continue working in nightclubs and regularly for television. In the 1960s she increasingly acted as a human rights activist and, among other things, took part with Martin Luther King in the 1966 peace march to Jackson. In the 1970s and 1980s, Horne again appeared regularly in television shows, including The Muppet Show and The Cosby Show. In the early 1980s, she starred more than 100 times on Broadway in the one-woman show Lena Horne: The Lady and Her Music. Horne was inducted into the Georgia Music Hall of Fame in 1991 and received many awards, including the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1989. Horne was married to pianist, composer, and arranger Lennie Hayton. The singer died in May 2010 at the age of almost 93.

 

Sources: Encyclopedia of World Biography, Wikipedia (English and Dutch), and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

Dutch postcard. byJosPe, Arnhem, no. 79. Mary Nolan (name misspelt as Lolan), but in reality this is Kay Johnson, and Louis Wolheim in the film The Ship from Shanghai (Charles Brabin, 1930). Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. No. 79.

 

Kay Johnson, originally Catherine Townsend Johnson (1904–1975), was an American stage and screen actress, who peaked on screen in the early 1930s.

 

Born Katharine Johnson, she was the daughter of the architect Thomas R. Johnson, who participated in several notable buildings in New York, such as the Woolworth Building (1913), the city's customs building and libraries. According to the actress, the lack of recognition of his work on the Woolworth Building precipitated his death in 1914. Kay decided to become an actress after graduating from an internship in Ohio. Her mother reluctantly allowed her to take classes at the American Academy of Dramatic Art. Her first important role was in the play Beggar on Horseback, and her first notable appearance was in R. U. R. (Rossum's Universal Robots) in Chicago. After appearing in The Little Accident in Providence, Rhode Island, she moved to California with Broadway director, actor John Cromwell, whom she married in October 1928. Cromwell made a career as a director in Hollywood, in particular with Of Human Bondage with Bette Davis.

 

Kay Johnson was awarded a contract with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer by Cecil B. DeMille, who noticed her at the Los Angeles Repertory Theater in The Silver Cord, produced by Simeon Gest of the Figueroa Playhouse. She started in Dynamite (1929) with Charles Bickford and Conrad Nagel. DeMille appreciated his performance, which he compared with that of mute star Gloria Swanson, nicknaming her the Swanson of the Talkies. At that time, she was operated with appendicitis, which delayed production on Dynamite. She then appeared in The Ship From Shanghai (1930), This Mad World (1930), Billy the Kid (1930), The Spoilers (1930) with Gary Cooper and Betty Compson, Madame Satan (1930) with Reginald Denny, Thirteen Wives (1932), The Reach (1934) with Leslie Howard and Bette Davis, The Call of the Forest (1935) and The Adventures of Mark Twain (1944). She played with Warner Baxter in an adaptation of Elinor Glyn's play Such Men Are Dangerous (1930) by Fox Film. Her career continued until 1954, with a final appearance in the British film The Call of Gold/ Jivaro, but it is clear that between 1929 and 1935 were Johnson's best years.

 

Kay Johnson and John Cromwell were the parents of actor James Cromwell (born 1940). They divorced in 1948. Cromwell would be a victim of McCarthyism and was blacklisted between 1951 and 1958.

Hazel Scott was known for improvising on classical themes and also played bebop, blues, and ballads. She was the first African American woman to have her own television show, The Hazel Scott Show, which premiered on the DuMont Television Network on 3 July 1950. However, she publicly opposed McCarthyism and racial segregation, and the show was cancelled in 1950 when she was accused of being a Communist sympathizer.

 

Want to know more about Black Hollywood ? Visit Discover Black Heritage.

I thought the sun rose in your eyes

 

*Explored

 

BREAKING NEWS My 35th picture to be viewed over 1,000 times (14 October 2013). First uploaded 13 October 2013.

 

ADDENDUM (14 October 2013)

I think it is only fair to point out who the people in the photograph are:

 

The person on the left is Peggy Seeger.

 

Seeger's father was Charles Seeger (1886–1979), an important folklorist and musicologist; her mother was Seeger's second wife, Ruth Porter Crawford (1901–1953), a modernist composer who was one of the first women to receive a Guggenheim Fellowship. One of her brothers was Mike Seeger and the well-known Pete Seeger is her half-brother. One of her first recordings was American Folk Songs for Children (1955).

In the 1950s, left-leaning singers such as Paul Robeson and The Weavers began to find that life became difficult because of the influence of McCarthyism. Seeger visited Communist China and as a result had her US passport withdrawn. The US State Department, which had been opposed to Seeger's trip to Moscow (where the CIA had monitored the US delegation), was incensed that Seeger had gone to China against official "advice".

The authorities had already warned her that her passport would be impounded, effectively barring her from further travel were she to return to the US. She therefore decided to tour Europe – and later found out that she was on a blacklist sent to European governments. Staying in London in 1956, she performed accompanying herself on banjo. There she and Ewan MacColl fell in love. Previously married to director and actress Joan Littlewood, MacColl left his second wife, Jean Newlove, to become Seeger's lover.

In 1958, her UK work permit expired and she was about to be deported. This was narrowly averted by a plan, concocted by MacColl and Seeger, in which she married the folk singer Alex Campbell, in Paris, on January 24, 1959, in what Seeger described as a "hilarious ceremony". This marriage of convenience allowed Seeger to gain British citizenship and continue her relationship with MacColl. MacColl and Seeger were later married (in 1977), following his divorce from Newlove. They remained together until his death in 1989. They had three children: Neill, Calum, and Kitty. They recorded and released several albums together on Folkways Records, along with Seeger's solo albums and other collaborations with the Seeger Family and the Seeger Sisters.

The documentary film A Kind of Exile was a profile of Seeger and also featured Ewan MacColl. The film was directed and produced by John Goldschmidt for ATV and shown on ITV in the UK. [Wikipedia]

 

The person on the right is Martin Carthy.

 

Martin Carthy is an English folk singer and guitarist who has remained one of the most influential figures in British traditional music, inspiring contemporaries such as Bob Dylan and Paul Simon and later artists such as Richard Thompson since he emerged as a young musician in the early days of the folk revival.

He is a renowned solo performer of traditional songs in a very distinctive style, accompanying himself on his Martin 000-18 acoustic guitar; his style is marked by the use of alternative tunings (notably CGCDGA), and a strongly percussive picking style that emphasizes the melody. His debut album, Martin Carthy, was released in 1965, and also featured Dave Swarbrick playing fiddle on some tracks, although he was not mentioned in the album's sleeve notes. Carthy's arrangement of the traditional ballad "Scarborough Fair" was adapted, without acknowledgement, by Paul Simon on the Simon and Garfunkel album recording Parsley Sage Rosemary and Thyme in 1966. This caused a rift between the pair which was not resolved until Simon invited Carthy to sing the song with him on-stage at the Hammersmith Apollo in 2000.

 

He has also been involved with many musical collaborations. He has sung with The Watersons since 1972, was twice a member of the UK electric folk group Steeleye Span, was a member of the Albion Country Band 1973 line-up, with members from the Fairport Convention family and John Kirkpatrick, that recorded the Battle of the Field album, and was part of the innovative Brass Monkey ensemble, which mixed a range of brass instruments with Carthy's guitar and mandolin and John Kirkpatrick's accordion, melodeon and concertina.

For many years Carthy has enjoyed a creative partnership with fiddle player Dave Swarbrick and, more recently, Waterson:Carthy has provided the forum for a successful musical partnership with wife Norma Waterson together with their daughter Eliza Carthy.

 

In June 1998 he was appointed an MBE in the Queen's Birthday Honours. He was named Folk Singer of the Year at the BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards in 2002, and again in 2005 when he also won the award for Best Traditional Track for 'Famous Flower of Serving Men'. In the 2007 Folk Awards Martin Carthy and Dave Swarbrick won "Best duo". [Wikipedia]

Belgian collectors card by Kwatta, Bois d'Haine, no. C. 240. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Lena Horne in Duchess of Idaho (Robert Z. Leonard, 1950).

 

Lena Horne (1917-2010) was an American singer, dancer, actress, and human rights activist. She is known as one of the most popular African American entertainers of the twentieth century. She starred in the film musicals Cabin in the Sky (1943) and Stormy Weather (1943)

 

Lena Mary Calhoun Horne was born in 1917 in New York into a family that had African and Native American as well as European ancestors on both sides. Her father, Edwin "Teddy" Horne, who worked in the gambling trade, left the family when Lena was three. Her mother, Edna, was an actress with an African American theater troupe and traveled extensively. Horne was mainly raised by her grandparents, Cora Calhoun and Edwin Horne. From an early age, Horne had ambitions of becoming a performer—much against the wishes of her family, who felt she should have higher goals. The Hornes were an established middle-class family, with several members holding college degrees and distinguished positions in organizations such as the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and the Urban League (a group that worked to increase the economic and political power of minorities and to end discrimination based on race). Nonetheless, Horne pursued her own course. At the age of 16, she made her debut as a dancer and singer in the chorus of Harlem's famous Cotton Club. There she performed with Cab Calloway's orchestra, among others. In 1934, she took voice lessons and landed a small role in an all-black Broadway show 'Dance with Your Gods'. In 1935-1936, she toured as a singer with the Noble Sissles orchestra and recorded her first two albums for Decca Records. Horne married minor politician Louis Jones in 1937. They had a daughter, Gail, and a son, Edwin, but separated in 1940 and divorced in 1944.

 

Lena Horne gained some stage experience in Lew Leslie's revues, 'Blackbirds of 1939' and 'Blackbirds of 1940', and in 1940 she joined one of the great white swing bands, the Charlie Barnet Orchestra. But as the group's only black member she suffered many humiliations of racial prejudice, especially from hotels and restaurants that catered exclusively to whites. In 1943 a long booking at the SavoyPlaza Hotel, which brought Horne national coverage and a number of movie appearances, established her as the highest-paid African American entertainer in the United States. She was signed to a seven-year contract with Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM)—the first African American woman since 1915 to sign a term contract with a film studio. She was not dark enough in colour to star with many of the African American actors of the day and her roles in white films were limited, since Hollywood was not ready to portray interracial relationships on screen. She had several minor roles before she had a major role in the musical Cabin in the Sky (Vincente Minnelli, 1943) opposite Ethel Waters and Rex Ingram. MGM made this musical with exclusively black actors, which was a financial risk at the time as some cinemas refused films starring black actors. One song was cut from the film: 'Ain't It the Truth' sung by Lena Horne in a bubble bath. It was considered too piquant for the time. She also starred in the musical Stormy Weather (Andrew L. Stone, 1943) loosely based on the life of dancer Bill Robinson. Robinson himself co-starred and in the cast were also African-American actors, singers, and dancers such as Cab Calloway, Fats Waller, and the Nicholas brothers. The soundtrack earned Horne a world hit, 'Stormy Weather'. Then followed some nonspeaking roles in Broadway Rhythm (1944), Two Girls and a Sailor (1944), and a musical biography of Rodgers and Hart, Words and Music (1948). She refused to take on any roles that were disrespectful to her as a woman of colour.

 

As an African-American, Lena Horne was systematically discriminated against in the further development of her career, which discouraged her and matured her leftist ideas. After World War II, she spent several years in Western Europe, performing in the Netherlands and Belgium, among other places. After returning to the United States, in the era of McCarthyism, she was blacklisted by Hollywood for her left-wing sympathies. However, she was able to continue working in nightclubs and regularly for television. In the 1960s she increasingly acted as a human rights activist and, among other things, took part with Martin Luther King in the 1966 peace march to Jackson. In the 1970s and 1980s, Horne again appeared regularly in television shows, including The Muppet Show and The Cosby Show. In the early 1980s, she starred more than 100 times on Broadway in the one-woman show Lena Horne: The Lady and Her Music. Horne was inducted into the Georgia Music Hall of Fame in 1991 and received many awards, including the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1989. Horne was married to pianist, composer, and arranger Lennie Hayton. The singer died in May 2010 at the age of almost 93.

 

Sources: Encyclopedia of World Biography, Wikipedia (English and Dutch), and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

The Thing from Another World 1951

Watch the skies, everywhere! Keep looking. Keep watching the skies!

—Ned “Scotty” Scott

 

www.popscreen.com/v/7aMWr/The-Thing-from-Another-World Full Feature

www.youtube.com/v/T5xcVxkTZzM Trailer

This is one of the major classics of 50s sci fi movies. Released in April of 1951, it was the first full-length film to feature a flying saucer from outer space, which carried a hostile alien. The budget and the effects are typical B-grade stuff, but the acting and pacing are well above the usual B levels. Kenneth Toby and Margaret Sheriden star. James Arness (more known for his westerns) plays The Thing.

Howard Hawks' early foray into the science fiction genre took advantage of the anti-communist feelings of the time to help enhance the horror elements of the story. McCarthyism and the Korean War added fuel to the notion of Americans stalked by a force which was single of mind and "devoid of morality." But in the end, it is American soldiers and scientists who triumph over the evil force - or the monster in the case of this film. Even today, this is considered one of the best of the genre.

Film review by Jeff Flugel. June 2013

There's not a lot new or particularly insightful I can offer when it comes to discussing the seminal sci-fi flick, The Thing from Another World that hasn't been written about ad naseum elsewhere. One of the most famous and influential of all 1950s creature features, it kicked off more than a decade of alien invasion and bug-eyed monster movie mayhem, inspired a host of future filmmakers (one of whom, John Carpenter, would go on to direct his own version of the story in 1982), and remains one of the best-written and engaging films of its kind.

Loosely (and I do mean loosely) adapted from John W. Campbell's novella, "Who Goes There?," The Thing is legendary director Howard Hawks' lone foray into the science fiction/ horror genres, but it fits comfortably into his filmography, featuring as it does Hawks' favorite themes: a group of tough professionals doing their job with ease, good-humored banter and practiced finesse; a bit of romance with a gutsy dame who can easily hold her own with the boys; and lots of overlapping, razor-sharp dialogue. Featuring a script by Charles Lederer and an uncredited Ben Hecht, The Thing is easily the most spryly written and funniest of all 50s monster movies. In fact, it's this sharpness in the scripting, and the extremely likeable ensemble cast of characters, rather than the now-familiar story and somewhat unimaginative monster design, that makes the film still feel fresh and modern to this day.

There's likely few people out there reading this who don't know the story of The Thing like the back of their hand, but here goes...When an unidentified aircraft crashes close to a remote research station near the North Pole, Captain Pat Hendry (Kenneth Tobey, in the role of his career) and his squad are dispatched there to investigate. Dr. Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) heads the scientific contingent there, and he informs Hendry that he thinks the downed craft is possibly "not of this earth." A joint team of soldiers and scientists head out to the crash site and find an actual, honest-to-goodness flying saucer lying buried under the ice.

The spaceship is destroyed while the men try to melt the ice around it with thermite bombs, but they find a lone, 8-foot-tall extraterrestrial occupant frozen nearby and bring the body back to the outpost in a block of ice. Dr. Carrington and his crew of eggheads want to study the thing, but Hendry is adamant that it should be kept as is until he gets word from his superior in Anchorage, General Fogerty. It wouldn't be a monster movie without something going pear-shaped, of course, and before you know it, a careless mistake results in the creature being thawed out of his iceberg coffin and going on a bit of a rampage, taking out a number of sled dogs and a few unsuspecting scientists along the way. The rest of the film details the tense battle between the surviving humans and the coldly intelligent, remorseless alien invader, which seems virtually unkillable, impregnable to cold, bullets and fire...

The set-up for the film, and how everything eventually plays out, might seem overly familiarly nowadays, but in 1951, this was cutting-edge stuff, at least in cinemas. The Thing plays as a veritable blueprint of how to make a compelling "alien monster-on-the-loose" movie. Howard Hawks not being particularly well-versed, or even interested in, science fiction per se likely worked to its benefit, as he ended up making, as he so often did in his other films, what is first-and-foremost a well-oiled entertainment, rather than simply a genre exercise.

Typical of a Hawks film, The Thing is meticulously designed, composed and shot, but in such a way as to appear offhand. Hawks almost never went in for showy camera angles or flashy effects. His technique was nearly invisible; he just got on with telling the story, in the most straightforward, unfussy way. But this easy, seemingly effortless style was very carefully considered, by a shrewd and knowing mind. As Bill Warren, author of one of the best (and certainly most encyclopedic) books about 1950s sci-fi filmmaking, Keep Watching the Skies, notes in his detailed analysis of the film:

As most good movies do, The Thing works in two areas: sight and sound. The locale is a cramped, tunnel-like base; the men are confined within, the Thing can move freely outdoors in the cold. Compositions are often crowded, with more people in the shot than seems comfortable, reinforcing the idea of confinement After the Thing escapes, only the alien itself is seen standing and moving alone.

This feeling of a cold, hostile environment outside the base is constantly reinforced throughout the film, and a real tension mounts when, towards the climax, the highly intelligent Thing, itself immune to the subzero arctic conditions, turns off the compound's heating, knowing the humans inside will quickly die without it. (The freaky, otherworldly theremin-flavored music by Dimitri Tiomkin adds a lot to the eerie atmosphere here.)

As groundbreaking and well-structured as the plot of The Thing was (and is), what makes the film play so well today is the great script and the interaction of a bunch of seasoned character actors, who toss off both exposition and pithy bon mots in such a low-key, believable manner. This is a truly ensemble movie, and the fact that it doesn't feature any big name stars really adds to the overall effect; no one really hogs all the limelight or gets the lion's share of good lines. Hawks was a director who usually worked with the biggest names in the business, but, much as in the earlier Air Force, he was equally at home working with a cast of rock-solid character actors.

All this talk of Howard Hawks as director, when it's actually Christian Nyby who is credited with the job, has long been a source of speculation with fans of the film. Todd McCarthy, in his bio Howard Hawks: The Grey Fox of Hollywood, seems to clear the issue up once and for all (though really, after viewing enough Hawks films, the results speak for themselves):

The perennial question surrounding The Thing From Another World has always been, Who actually directed it, Christian Nyby or Howard Hawks? The sum of participants' responses make the answer quite clear. Putting it most bluntly, (associate producer) Ed Lasker said "Chris Nyby didn't direct a thing. One day Howard was late and Chris said,'Why don't we get started? I know what the shot should be.' And I said, 'No, Chris, I think we'll wait until Howard gets here." Ken Tobey testified, "Chris Nyby directed one scene. Howard Hawks was there, but he let Chris direct one scene. We all rushed into a room, eight or ten of us, and we practically knocked each other over. No one knew what to do." Dewey Martin, Robert Cornthwaite and Richard Keinen all agreed that Hawks was the director, and Bill Self said, "Chris Nyby was a very nice, decent fellow, but he wasn't Howard Hawks."

Nyby had been Hawks' editor on a number of films, and Hawks apparently decided to help his collaborator establish a name for himself by allowing him directorial credit on the film. This seemingly altruistic gesture didn't mean that Hawks wasn't involved in virtually every aspect of the making of the film, however, and ultimately, The Thing did little for Nyby's directing career, at least on the big screen (he did go on to a long and busy career directing for numerous television programs, however.)

Bill Self was told at the time that Hawks didn't take directing credit on The Thing because it was planned as a low-budget film, one in which RKO didn't have much confidence. But, as critics have been saying ever since it was released, The Thing is a Howard Hawks film in everything but name. The opening scene of various members of the team bantering is so distilled as to be a virtual parody of Hawksian overlapping dialogue. Even more than Only Angels Have Wings, the picture presents a pristine example of a group operating resourcefully in a hermetically sealed environment in which everything in the outside world represents a grave threat. (3)

In addition to all the masculine camaraderie and spooky goings-on, one of the best aspects of The Thing is the fun, charming little tease of a romance between Capt. Hendry and Nikki (top-billed Margaret Sheridan). Nikki works as Prof. Carrington's assistant and is not merely the requisite "babe" in the film. True to the Hawksian norm, she's no pushover when it comes to trading insults with the men, nor a shrinking violet when up to her neck in perilous situations. Unlike most actresses in 50s monster movies, she doesn't utter a single scream in The Thing

and in fact, it's her practical suggestion which gives Bob, Hendry's ever-resourceful crew chief (Dewey Martin), the notion of how to finally kill the monster. Lederer and Hecht's screenplay hints at the backstory to Nikki and Pat's relationship in humorous and oblique ways, and their flirtation amidst all the chaos adds sparkle to the film but never gets in the way of the pace of the story. One nice little throwaway exchange near the finale encapsulates their verbal give-and-take, as Nikki playfully pokes the temporarily-befuddled Hendry, as his men scurry about, setting Bob's plan in motion.

Nikki: Looks as if the situation's well in hand.

Hendry: I've given all the orders I'm gonna give.

Nikki: If I thought that were true, I'd ask you to marry me.

Sheridan, a former model signed to a 5-year contract by Hawks, is quite good here, but after The Thing her career never really caught fire and she retired from acting a few years later. The closest thing to a star turn in the film is Kenneth Tobey as Capt. Hendry. Tobey racked up an impressive number of credits throughout his nearly 50-year-long career, generally as gruff, competent military men or similar types, and he was always good value, though it's as Capt. Hendry in The Thing that he truly shines. He consistently humanizes the no-nonsense, take charge man of action Hendry by displaying an easygoing approach to command. Most of Hendry's men call him by his first name, and delight in ribbing him about his budding romance with Nikki, and he responds to all this joshing in kind. When things get hairy, Tobey's Hendry doesn't have to bark his orders; it's clear that, despite the friendly banter, his men hold him in high esteem and leap to do his bidding at a moment's notice.

Many of the other members of the cast, while none of them ever became household names, will likely be recognizable from countless other roles in both film and television. Hawks gave Dewey Martin co-star billing in The Big Sky a few years later. Robert Cornthwaite kept busy for decades on stage and television, as well as in supporting roles in films such as Monkey Business, Kiss Me Deadly and Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? John Dierkes (Dr. Chapman) and Douglas Spencer (Scotty) both had juicy roles in the western classic Shane, as well as many other movies too numerous to name. Sharp-eyed viewers will also recognize Eduard Franz, Paul Frees (he of the famous voice) and Groucho Marx's right-hand man on You Bet Your Life, George Fenneman, in pivotal roles. And of course we mustn't forget 6' 7" James Arness (years before becoming renowned as Marshall Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke) as the hulking Thing.

A quick note on the "remake": John Carpenter's The Thing (1982), a bleak, grisly and brilliant take on the story, was a box-office dud when first released, but has since attained well-deserved status as a modern classic. While most fans seem divided into two camps - those who love the more restrained, old-fashioned thrills of the original, and those who prefer the more visceral, paranoiac Carpenter version - I happen to treasure both films equally and revisit each of them often. The Carpenter version is by far the gutsier, unsettling one, emphasizing as it does the "trust no one," shape-shifting "the alien is one of us" scenario imagined by John W. Campbell, but the Hawks' film is the most fun, with a far more likeable array of characters, working together to defeat an implacable menace. Each has its own clear merits. I wouldn't want to do without either film, and frankly see no need to choose one over the other.

"Every one of you listening to my voice...tell the world. Tell this to everybody, wherever they are: Watch the skies. Everywhere. Keep looking. Keep watching the skies.”

Acting Credits

Margaret Sheridan - Nikki Nicholson

Kenneth Tobey - Captain Patrick Hendrey

Robert Cornthwaite - Professor Carrington

Dewey Martin - Crew Chief

Douglas Spencer - Ned "Scotty" Scott

Eduard Franz - Dr Stern

Robert Nichols - Lieutenant Ken Erickson

William Self - Colonel Barnes

Sally Creighton - Mrs Chapman

John Dierkes - Dr. Chapman

James R. Young - Lieutenant Eddie Dykes

Norbert Schiller - Dr. Laurenz

William Neff - Olson

Allan Ray - Officer

Lee Tung Foo - Cook

Edmund Breon - Dr. Ambrose

George Fenneman - Dr. Redding

Tom Steele - Stuntman

James Arness - The Thing

Billy Curtis - The Thing While Shrinking

 

A photograph of a woman in Barcelona, Spain training for a Republican militia in August 1936, taken by Gerda Taro. Now, 70 years after Ms. Taro’s death at age 26, the first major exhibition of her work begins Sept. 26 at the International Center of Photography in Manhattan. Many of Ms. Taro’s sympathetic and graphic photographs of supporters of the Spanish Republic will be seen for the first time.

 

Ms. Taro, seen by many as the first woman known to photograph a battle from the front lines and to die covering a war, survived in the public eye mostly for her romance with Robert Capa.

 

This series of photos (see my three blog entries at doctornoemedia.blogspot.com/2007/09/lovely-antifascist.html) took me back to an adolescent obsession triggered by George Orwell's most amazing Homage to Catalonia, his tale of the revolutionary atmosphere that pervade Spanish Civil War-era Barcelona and its environs. The streets were teeming with anarchism and good vibrations, powered by the common struggle to off the Fascist forces of Generalissimo Francisco Franco. For this, Taro, her husband Robert Capa and the sainted Brooklyn soldiers of the Lincoln Brigade were anointed "premature antifascists" by the Hoover-led FBI and its successors in the Great American Witch Hunt, the House Unamerican Activities Committee and McCarthyism.

 

And she is a double-heroine because she did all this after escaping from Nazi Germany and changing her name (her husband did too) and starting this entire new profession. The details may be seen in the related Article: A Wartime Photographer in Her Own Light (http://www.nytimes.com/2007/09/22/arts/design/22taro.html)

 

Photo: International Center of Photography

Before I made the acquaintance of George Anastaplo I saw him walking down the street in Chicago's Hyde Park neighborhood.

 

There was something about him that caught my eye... something about the way that he walked and the way that he smiled... there was something about his spirit... there was something that I wanted to capture.

 

George has what I like to call 'The Magic Mojo.'

 

I wanted to pop him right there on the street but I was late in getting to a very special dinner with some great friends.

 

I had to let the urge go.

 

I regretted my artistic inaction the moment I passed him on the street there.

 

Fortunately the regret would be short lived.

 

In one of those funny little twists of fate that life seems to lay on me... when we got to the dinner George ended up being seated right next to me.

 

He's a fascinating guy.

 

A great storyteller, I really enjoyed the conversation that we shared as we sat there at the table.

 

'While most lawyers go through an entire career without getting the opportunity to argue before the U.S. Supreme Court, George Anastaplo did so without entering the legal profession—and then, he likes to say, he retired.' ~ Maria Kantzavelos, Chicago Daily Law Bulletin, April 25, 2011, page 1

 

George completed his undergraduate degree in only one year at the University of Chicago.

 

It took me longer than that to pay my overdue library fines from freshman year.

 

In 1951 he graduated at the top of his law school class.

 

I would have liked to have sat next to him.

 

In 1964 George completed his doctorate at the University of Chicago’s Committee on Social Thought.

 

Since then he's written more than 20 books on a multitude of subjects.

 

"A longtime Loyola University Chicago School of Law professor who today teaches courses in constitutional law and jurisprudence, Anastaplo became an eclectic scholar and teacher" ~ Maria Kantzavelos

 

'Fifty years ago Sunday, on April 24, 1961, the U.S. Supreme Court rendered a decision that affirmed the decision of the Illinois Supreme Court to deny Anastaplo admission to the Illinois bar because he refused to answer questions asked by the bar’s character committee about political associations.' ~ Maria Kantzavelos

 

When George graduated from law school and he interviewed for admission into the Illinois Bar Association he had to be questioned in front of the 'character committee' they asked 'do you think a communist should be admitted into the bar of this state?'

 

George's answer?

 

‘Well, why not?’

 

Then they asked George if he was now or was ever a member of the Communist Party.

 

George didn't feel that he should answer that question and because of that conviction they wouldn't give him admission into the Illinois Bar and he couldn't practice law even though the dude graduated at the top of his class. Hmmmmph.

 

'Had he gone along with the process, things could have turned out differently for Anastaplo, who was being considered for a position at one of the big law firms in town.' ~ Maria Kantzavelos

 

But that didn't stop the fiesty twenty five year old.

 

He fought over the next ten years, ultimately laying out his case in front of the United States Supreme Court.

 

He argued there as a lawyer without a license!

 

'In 1954 petitioner, George Anastaplo, an instructor and research assistant at the University of Chicago, having previously passed his Illinois bar examinations, was denied admission to the bar of that State by the Illinois Supreme Court. The denial was based upon his refusal to answer questions of the Committee on Character and Fitness as to whether he was a member of the Communist Party.' ~ 366 U.S. 82 IN RE ANASTAPLO

 

'The ensuing lengthy proceedings before the Committee, at which Anastaplo was the only witness, are perhaps best described as a wide-ranging exchange between the Committee and Anastaplo in which the Committee sought to explore Anastaplo's ability conscientiously to swear support of the Federal and State Constitutions, as required by the Illinois attorneys' oath, and Anastaplo undertook to expound and defend, on historical and ideological premises, his abstract belief in the 'right of revolution,' and to resist, on grounds of asserted constitutional right and scruple, Committee questions which he deemed improper. The Committee already had before it uncontroverted evidence as to Anastaplo's 'good moral character,' in the form of written statements or affidavits furnished by persons of standing acquainted with him, and the record on rehearing contains nothing which could properly be considered as reflecting adversely upon his character or reputation or on the sincerity of the beliefs he espoused before the Committee. Anastaplo persisted, however, in refusing to answer, among other inquiries, the Committee's questions as to his possible membership in the Communist Party or in other allegedly related organizations. ~ 366 U.S. 82 IN RE ANASTAPLO

 

Thereafter the Committee, by a vote of 11 to 6, again declined to certify Anastaplo because of his refusal to answer such questions, the majority stating in its report to the Illinois Supreme Court:

 

'his (Anastaplo's) failure to reply, in our view, obstructs the lawful processes of the Committee, prevents inquiry into subjects which bear intimately upon the issue of character and fitness, such as loyalty to our basic institutions, belief in representative government and bona fides of the attorney's oath and results in his failure to meet the burden of establishing that he possesses the good moral character and fitness to practice law, which are conditions to the granting of a license to practice law.

 

'We draw no inference of disloyalty or subversion from applicant's continued refusal to answer questions concerning Communist or other subversive affiliations. We do, however, hold that there is a strong public interest in our being free to question applicants for admission to the bar on their adherence to our basic institutions and form of government and that such public interest in the character of its attorneys overrides an applicant's private interest in keeping such views to himself. By failing to respond to this higher public interest we hold that the applicant has obstructed the proper functions of the Committee. We cannot certify the applicant as worthy of the trust and confidence of the public when we do not know that he is so worthy and when he has prevented us from finding out.'

 

At the same time the full Committee acknowledged that Anastaplo 'is well regarded by his academic associates, by professors who had taught him in school and by members of the Bar who know him personally'; that it had 'not been supplied with any information by any third party which is derogatory to Anastaplo's character or general reputation. ~ ~ 366 U.S. 82 IN RE ANASTAPLO

 

THE DISSENTING OPINION

 

'United States Supreme Court

 

366 U.S. 82

 

IN RE ANASTAPLO

 

No. 58. Argued: December 14, 1960. --- Decided: April 24, 1961.

 

CERTIORARI TO THE SUPREME COURT OF ILLINOIS.

 

Mr. Justice BLACK, with whom THE CHIEF JUSTICE, Mr. Justice DOUGLAS and Mr. Justice BRENNAN concur, dissenting.

 

The petitioner George Anastaplo has been denied the right to practice law in the State of Illinois for refusing to answer questions about his views and associations. I think this action by the State violated rights guaranteed to him by the First and Fourteenth Amendments. The reasons which lead me to this conclusion are largely the same as those expressed in my dissenting opinion in Konigsberg v. State Bar of California, 366 U.S. at page 56, 81 S.Ct. at page 1010. But this case provides such a striking illustration of the destruction that can be inflicted upon individual liberty when this Court fails to enforce the First Amendment to the full extent of its express and unequivocal terms that I think it deserves separate treatment.

 

The controversy began in November 1950, when Anastaplo, a student at the University of Chicago Law School, having two months previously successfully passed the Illinos Bar examination, appeared before the State's Committee on Character and Fitness for the usual interview preliminary to admission to the Bar. The personal history form required by state law had been filled out and filed with the Committee prior to his appearance and showed that Anastaplo was an unusually worthy applicant for admission. His early life had been spent in a small town in southern Illinois where his parents, who had immigrated to this country from Greece before his birth, still resided. After having received his precollege education in the public schools of his home town, he had discontinued his education, at the age of eighteen, and joined the Air Force during the middle of World War II-flying as a navigator in every major theater of the military operations of that war. Upon receiving an honorable discharge in 1947, he had come to Chicago and resumed his education, obtaining his undergraduate degree at the University of Chicago and entering immediately into the study of law at the University of Chicago Law School. His record throughout his life, both as a student and as a citizen, was unblemished.

 

The personal history form thus did not contain so much as one statement of fact about Anastaplo's past life or conduct that could have, in any way, cast doubt upon his fitness for admission to the Bar. It did, however, contain a statement of opinion which, in the minds of some of the members of the Committee at least, did cast such doubt and in that way served to touch off this controversy. This was a statement made by Anastaplo in response to the command of the personal history form: 'State what you consider to be the principles underlying the Constitution of the United States.' Anastaplo's response to that command was as follows:

 

'One principle consists of the doctrine of the separation of powers; thus, among the Executive, Legislative, and Judiciary are distributed various functions and powers in a manner designed to provide for a balance of power, thereby intending to prevent totally unrestrained action by any one branch of government. Another basic principle (and the most important) is that such government is constituted so as to secure certain inalienable rights, those rights to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness (and elements of these rights are explicitly set forth in such parts of the Constitution as the Bill of Rights.). And, of course, whenever the particular government in power becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it and thereupon to establish a new government. This is how I view the Constitution.'

 

When Anastaplo appeared before a two-man Subcommittee of the Committee on Character and Fitness, one of its members almost immediately engaged him in a discussion relating to the meaning of these italicized words which were substantially taken from that part of the Declaration of Independence set out below. This discussion soon developed into an argument as Anastaplo stood by his statement and insisted that if a government gets bad enough, the people have a 'right of revolution.' It was at this juncture in the proceedings that the other member of the Subcommittee interrupted with the question: 'Are you a member of any organization that is listed on the Attorney General's list, to your knowledge?' And this question was followed up a few moments later with the question: 'Are you a member of the Communist Party?' A colloquy then ensued between Anastaplo and the two members of the Subcommittee as to the legitimacy of the questions being asked, Anastaplo insisting that these questions were not reasonably related to the Committee's functions and that they violated his rights under the Constitution, and the members of the Subcommittee insisting that the questions were entirely legitimate.

 

The Subcommittee then refused to certify Anastaplo for admission to the Bar but, instead, set a further hearing on the matter before the full Committee. That next hearing, as well as all of the hearings that followed, have been little more than repetitions of the first. The rift between Anastaplo and the Committee has grown ever wider with each successive hearing. Anastaplo has stead-fastly refused to answer any questions put by the Committee which inquired into his political associations or religious beliefs. A majority of the members of the Committee, faced with this refusal, has grown more and more insistent that it has the right to force him to answer any question it sees fit to ask. The result has been a series of hearings in which questions have been put to Anastaplo with regard to his 'possible' association with scores of organizations, including the Ku Klux Klan, the Silver Shirts (an allegedly Fascist organization), every organization on the so-called Attorney General's list, the Democratic Party, the Republican Party, and the Communist Party. At one point in the proceedings, at least two of the members of the Committee insisted that he tell the Committee whether he believes in a Supreme Being and one of these members stated that, as far as his vote was concerned, a man's 'belief in the Deity * * * has a substantial bearing upon his fitness to practice law.'

 

It is true, as the majority points out, that the Committee did not expressly rest its refusal to certify Anastaplo for admission to the Bar either upon his views on the 'right of revolution,' as that 'right' is defined in the Declaration of Independence, or upon his refusal to disclose his beliefs with regard to the existence of God, [4] or upon his refusals to disclose any of his political associations other than his 'possible' association with the Communist Party. But it certainly cannot be denied that the other questions were asked and, since we should not presume that these members of the Committee did not want answers to their questions, it seems certain that Anastaplo's refusal to answer them must have had some influence upon the final outcome of the hearings. In any case, when the Committee did vote, 11-6, not to certify Anastaplo for admission, not one member who asked any question Anastaplo had refused to answer voted in his favor.

 

The reasons for Anastaplo's position have been stated by him time and again-first, to the Committee and, later, in the briefs and oral arguments he presented in his own behalf, both before this Court and before the Supreme Court of Illinois. From a legal standpoint, his position throughout has been that the First Amendment gave him a right not to disclose his political associations or his religious beliefs to the Committee. But his decision to refuse to disclose these associations and beliefs went much deeper than a bare reliance upon what he considered to be his legal rights. The record shows that his refusal to answer the Committee's question stemmed primarily from his belief that he had a duty, both to society and to the legal profession, not to submit to the demands of the Committee because he believed that the questions had been asked solely for the purpose of harassing him because he had expressed agreement with the assertion of the right of revolution against an evil government set out in the Declaration of Independence. His position was perhaps best stated before the Committee in his closing remarks at the final session:

 

'It is time now to close. Differences between us remain. I leave to others the sometimes necessary but relatively easy task of praising Athens to Athenians. Besides, you should want no higher praise than what I have said about the contribution the bar can make to republican government. The bar deserves no higher praise until it makes that contribution. You should be grateful that I have not made a complete submission to you, even though I have cooperated as fully as good conscience permits. To the extent I have not submitted, to that extent have I contributed to the solution of one of the most pressing problems that you, as men devoted to character and fitness, must face. This is the problem of selecting the standards and methods the bar must employ if it is to help preserve and nourish that idealism, that vital interest in the problem of justice, that so often lies at the heart of the intelligent and sensitive law student's choice of career. This is an idealism which so many things about the bar, and even about bar admission practices, discourage and make unfashionable to defend or retain. The worthiest men live where the rewards of virtue are greatest.

 

'I leave with you men of Illinois the suggestion that you do yourselves and the bar the honor, as well as the service, of anticipating what I trust will be the judgment of our most thoughtful judges. I move therefore that you recommend to the Supreme Court of Illinois that I be admitted to the bar of this State. And I suggest that this recommendation be made retroactive to November 10, 1950 when a young Air Force veteran first was so foolish as to continue to serve his country by daring to defend against a committee on character and fitness the teaching of the Declaration of Independence on the right of revolution.'

 

The reasons for the Committee's position are also clear. Its job, throughout these proceedings, has been to determine whether Anastaplo is possessed of the necessary good moral character to justify his admission to the Bar of Illinois. In that regard, the Committee has been given the benefit of voluminous affidavits from men of standing in their professions and in the community that Anastaplo is possessed of an unusually fine character. Dr. Alexander Meiklejohn, Professor of Philosophy, Emeritus, at the University of Wisconsin, for example, described Anastaplo as 'intellectually able, a hard, thorough student and moved by high devotion to the principles of freedom and justice.' Professor Malcolm P. Sharp of the University of Chicago Law School stated: 'No question has ever been raised about his honesty or his integrity, and his general conduct, characterized by friendliness, quiet independence, industry and courage, is reflected in his reputation.' Professor Roscoe T. Steffen of the University of Chicago Law School said: 'I know of no one who doubts his honesty and integrity.' Yves R. Simon, Professor of Philosophy at the University of Chicago, said: 'I consider Anastaplo as a young man of the most distinguished and lofty moral character. Everybody respects him and likes him.' Angelo G. Geocaris, a practicing attorney in the City of Chicago, said of Anastaplo: 'His personal code of ethics is unexcelled by any practicing attorney I have met in the state of Illinois.' Robert J. Coughlan, Division Director of a research project at the University of Chicago, said: 'His honesty and integrity are, in my opinion, beyond question. I would highly recommend him without the slightest reservation for any position involving the highest or most sacred trust. The applicant is a rare man among us today: he has an inviolable sense of Honor in the great traditions of Greek culture and thought. If admitted to the American Bar, he could do nothing that would not reflect glory on that institution.'

 

These affidavits and many more like them were presented to the Committee. Most of the statements came from men who knew Anastaplo intimately on the University of Chicago campus where Anastaplo has remained throughout the proceedings here involved, working as a research assistant and as a lecturer in Liberal Arts and studying for an advanced degree in History and Social Sciences. Even at the present time, he is still there preparing his doctoral dissertation which, understandably enough, is tentatively entitled 'The Historical and Philosophical Background of the First Amendment of the Constitution of the United States.'

 

The record also shows that the Committee supplemented the information it had obtained about Anastaplo from these affidavits by conducting informal independent investigations into his character and reputation. It sent agents to Anastaplo's home town in southern Illinois and they questioned the people who knew him there. Similar inquiries were made among those who knew him in Chicago. But these intensive investigations apparently failed to produce so much as one man in Chicago or in the whole State of Illinois who could say or would say, directly, indirectly or even by hearsay, one thing derogatory to the character, loyalty or reputation of George Anastaplo, and not one man could be found who would in any way link him with the Communist Party. This fact is particularly significant in view of the evidence in the record that the Committee had become acquainted with a person who apparently had been a member of a Communist Party cell on the University of Chicago campus and that this person was asked to and did identify for the Committee every member of the Party whom he knew.

 

In addition to the information it had obtained from the affidavits and from its independent investigations, the Committee had one more important source of information about Anastaplo's character. It had the opportunity to observe the manner in which he conducted himself during the many hours of hearings before it. That manner, as revealed by the record before us and undenied by any findings of the Committee to the contrary, left absolutely nothing to be desired. Faced with a barrage of sometimes highly provocative and totally irrelevant questions from men openly hostile to his position, Anastaplo invariably responded with all the dignity and restraint attributed to him in the affidavits of his friends. Moreover, it is not amiss to say that he conducted himself in precisely the same manner during the oral argument he presented before this Court.

 

Thus, it is against the background of a mountain of evidence so favorable to Anastaplo that the word 'overwhelming' seems inadequate to describe it that the action of the Committee in refusing to certify Anastaplo as fit for admission to the Bar must be considered. The majority of the Committee rationalized its position on the ground that without answers to some of the questions it had asked, it could not conscientiously perform its duty of determining Anastaplo's character and fitness to be a lawyer. A minority of the Committee described this explanation as 'pure sophistry.' And it is simply impossible to read this record without agreeing with the minority. For, it is difficult to see what possible relevancy answers to the questions could have had in the minds of these members of the Committee after they had received such completely overwhelming proof beyond a reasonable doubt of Anastaplo's good character and staunch patriotism. I can think of no sound reason for further insistence upon these answers other than the very questionable, but very human, feeling that this young man should not be permitted to resist the Committee's demands without being compelled to suffer for it in some way.

 

It is intimated that the Committee's feeling of resentment might be assuaged and that Anastaplo might even be admitted to the Bar if he would only give in to the demands of the Committee and add the requested test oath to the already overwhelming proof he has submitted to establish his good character and patriotism. In this connection, the Court says: 'We find nothing to suggest that he would not be admitted now if he decides to answer, assuming of course that no grounds justifying his exclusion from practice resulted. In short, petitioner holds the key to admission in his own hands.' However well this familiar phrase may fit other cases, it does not fit this one. For the attitude of the Committee, as revealed by the transcript of its hearings, does not support a belief that Anastaplo can gain admission to the Illinois Bar merely by answering the Committee's questions, whatever answers he should give. Indeed, the Committee's own majority report discloses that Anastaplo's belief in the 'right of revolution' was regarded as raising 'a serious question' in the minds of a majority of the Committee with regard to his fitness to practice law and that 'certain' members of that majority (how many, we cannot know) have already stated categorically that they will not vote to admit an applicant who expresses such views. Nor does the opinion of the Illinois Supreme Court indicate that Anastaplo 'holds the key to admission in his own hands.' Quite the contrary, that court's opinion evidences an almost insuperable reluctance to upset the findings of the Committee. Certainly, that opinion contains nothing that even vaguely resembles the sort of implicit promise that would justify the belief asserted by the majority here. And, finally, I see nothing in the majority opinion of this Court, nor in the majority opinions in the companion cases decided today, that would justify a belief that this Court would unlock the door that blocks his admission to the Illinois Bar if Anastaplo produced the 'key' and the state authorities refused to use it.

 

The opinion of the majority already recognizes that there is not one scrap of evidence in the record before us 'which could properly be considered as reflecting adversely upon his (Anastaplo's) character or reputation or on the sincerity of the beliefs he espoused before the Committee,' and that the Committee had not received any "information from any outside source which would cast any doubt on applicant's loyalty or which would tend to connect him in any manner with any subversive group." The majority opinion even concedes that Anastaplo was correct in urging that the questions asked by the Committee impinged upon the freedoms of speech and association guaranteed by the First and Fourteenth Amendments. But, the opinion then goes on to hold that Anastaplo can nonetheless be excluded from the Bar pursuant to 'the State's interest in having lawyers who are devoted to the law in its broadest sense .' I cannot regard that holding, as applied to a man like Anastaplo, as in any way justified. Consider it, for example, in the context of the following remarks of Anastaplo to the Committee-remarks the sincerity of which the majority does not deny:

 

'I speak of a need to remind the bar of its traditions and to keep alive the spirit of dignified but determined advocacy and opposition. This is not only for the good of the bar, of course, but also because of what the bar means to American republican government. The bar when it exercises self-control is in a peculiar position to mediate between popular passions and informed and principled men, thereby upholding republican government. Unless there is this mediation, intelligent and responsible government is unlikely. The bar, furthermore, is in a peculiar position to apply to our daily lives the constitutional principles which nourish for this country its inner life. Unless there is this nourishment, a just and humane people is impossible. The bar is, in short, in a position to train and lead by precept and example the American people.'

 

These are not the words of a man who lacks devotion to 'the law in its broadest sense.'

 

The majority, apparently considering this fact irrelevant because the State might possibly have an interest in learning more about its Bar applicants, decides that Anastaplo can properly be denied admission to the Bar by purporting to 'balance' the interest of the State of Illinois in 'having lawyers who are devoted to the law in its broadest sense' against the interest of Anastaplo and the public in protecting the freedoms of the First Amendment, concluding, as it usually does when it engages in this process, that 'on balance' the interest of Illinois must prevail. If I had ever doubted that the 'balancing test' comes close to being a doctrine of governmental absolutism-that to 'balance' an interest in individual liberty means almost inevitably to destroy that liberty-those doubts would have been dissipated by this case. For this so-called 'balancing test'-which, as applied to the First Amendment, means that the freedoms of speech, press, assembly, religion and petition can be repressed whenever there is a sufficient governmental interest in doing so-here proves pitifully and pathetically inadequate to cope with an invasion of individual liberty so plainly unjustified that even the majority apparently feels compelled expressly to disclaim 'any view upon the wisdom of the State's action.'

 

I, of course, wholeheartedly agree with the statement of the majority that this Court should not, merely on the ground that such action is unwise, interfere with governmental action that is within the constitutional powers of that government. But I am no less certain that this Court should not permit governmental action that plainly abridges constitutionally protected rights of the People merely because a majority believes that on 'balance' it is better, or 'wiser,' to abridge those rights than to leave them free. The inherent vice of the 'balancing test' is that it purports to do just that. In the context of its reliance upon the 'balancing test,' the Court's disclaimer of 'any view upon the wisdom of the State's action' here thus seems to me to be wholly inconsistent with the only ground upon which it has decided this case.

 

Nor can the majority escape from this inconsistency on the ground that the 'balancing test' deals only with the question of the importance of the existence of governmental power as a general matter without regard to the importance of its exercise in a particular case. For in Barenblatt v. United States the same majority made it clear that the 'balancing test' is to be applied to the facts of each particular case (360 U.S. 109, 79 S.Ct. 1093): 'Where First Amendment rights are asserted to bar governmental interrogation resolution of the issue always involves a balancing by the courts of the competing private and public interests at stake in the particular circumstances shown.' Thus the Court not only 'balances' the respective values of two competing policies as a general matter, but also 'balances' the wisdom of those policies in 'the particular circumstances shown.' Thus, the Court has reserved to itself the power to permit or deny abridgement of First Amendment freedoms according to its own view of whether repression or freedom is the wiser governmental policy under the circumstances of each case.

 

The effect of the Court's 'balancing' here is that any State may now reject an applicant for admission to the Bar if he believes in the Declaration of Independence as strongly as Anastaplo and if he is willing to sacrifice his career and his means of livelihood in defense of the freedoms of the First Amendment. But the men who founded this country and wrote our Bill of Rights were strangers neither to a belief in the 'right of revolution' nor to the urgency of the need to be free from the control of government with regard to political beliefs and associations. Thomas Jefferson was not disclaiming a belief in the 'right of revolution' when he wrote the Declaration of Independence. And Patrick Henry was certainly not disclaiming such a belief when he declared in impassioned words that have come on down through the years: 'Give me liberty or give me death.' This country's freedom was won by men who, whether they believed in it or not, certainly practiced revolution in the Revolutionary War.

 

Since the beginning of history there have been governments that have engaged in practices against the people so bad, so cruel, so unjust and so destructive of the individual dignity of men and women that the 'right of revolution' was all the people had left to free themselves. As simple illustrations, one government almost 2,000 years ago burned Christians upon fiery crosses and another government, during this very century, burned Jews in crematories. I venture the suggestion that there are countless multitudes in this country, and all over the world, who would join Anastaplo's belief in the right of the people to resist by force tyrranical governments like those.

 

In saying what I have, it is to be borne in mind that Anastaplo has not indicated, even remotely, a belief that this country is an oppressive one in which the 'right of revolution' should be exercised. Quite the contrary, the entire course of his life, as disclosed by the record, has been one of devotion and service to his country-first, in his willingness to defend its security at the risk of his own life in time of war and, later, in his willingness to defend its freedoms at the risk of his professional career in time of peace. The one and only time in which he has come into conflict with the Government is when he refused to answer the questions put to him by the Committee about his beliefs and associations. And I think the record clearly shows that conflict resulted, not from any fear on Anastaplo's part to divulge his own political activities, but from a sincere, and in my judgment correct, conviction that the preservation of this country's freedom depends upon adherence to our Bill of Rights. The very most that can fairly be said against Anastaplo's position in this entire matter is that he took too much of the responsibility of preserving that freedom upon himself.

 

This case illustrates to me the serious consequences to the Bar itself of not affording the full protections of the First Amendment to its applicants for admission. For this record shows that Anastaplo has many of the qualities that are needed in the American Bar. It shows, not only that Anastaplo has followed a high moral, ethical and patriotic course in all of the activities of his life, but also that he combines these more common virtues with the uncommon virtue of courage to stand by his principles at any cost. It is such men as these who have most greatly honored the profession of the law-men like Malsherbes, who, at the cost of his own life and the lives of his family, sprang unafraid to the defense of Louis XVI against the fanatical leaders of the Revolutionary government of France -men like Charles Evans Hughes, Sr., later Mr. Chief Justice Hughes, who stood up for the constitutional rights of socialists to be socialists and public officials despite the threats and clamorous protests of self-proclaimed superpatriots -men like Charles Evans Hughes, Jr., and John W. Davis, who, while against everything for which the Communists stood, strongly advised the Congress in 1948 that it would be unconstitutional to pass the law then proposed to outlaw the Communist Party -men like Lord Erskine, James Otis, Clarence Darrow, and the multitude of others who have dared to speak in defense of causes and clients without regard to personal danger to themselves. The legal profession will lose much of its nobility and its glory if it is not constantly replenished with lawyers like these. To force the Bar to become a group of thoroughly orthodox, time-serving, government-fearing individuals is to humiliate and degrade it.

 

But that is the present trend, not only in the legal profession but in almost every walk of life. Too many men are being driven to become government-fearing and time-serving because the Government is being permitted to strike out at those who are fearless enough to think as they please and say what they think. This trend must be halted if we are to keep faith with the Founders of our Nation and pass on to future generations of Americans the great heritage of freedom which they sacrificed so much to leave to us. The choice is clear to me. If we are to pass on that great heritage of freedom, we must return to the original language of the Bill of Rights. We must not be afraid to be free'

  

' if a government gets bad enough, the people have a 'right of revolution.' ~ George Anastaplo

 

That's why I like you George... what you just said right up there... you're a principled man and a patriot... you're a fiesty guy indeed as the following exchange points out...

 

This is from the transcript of the committee questioning George...

 

'Commissioner Mitchell: When you say 'believe in revolution,' you don't limit that revolution to an overthrow of a particular political party or a political government by means of an election process or other political means?

 

'Mr. Anastaplo: I mean actual use of force.

 

'Commissioner Mitchell: You mean to go as far as necessary?

 

'Mr. Anastaplo: As far as Washington did, for instance.

 

'Commissioner Mitchell: So that would it be fair to say that you believe the end result would justify any means that were used?

 

'Mr. Anastaplo: No, the means proportionate to the particular end in sight.

 

'Commissioner Mitchell: Well, is there any difference from your answer and my question?

 

'Mr. Anastaplo: Did you ask-

 

'Commissioner Mitchell: I asked you whether you thought that you believe that if a change, or overthrow of the government were justified, that any means could be used to accomplish that end.

  

'Mr. Anastaplo: Now, let's say in this positive concrete situation-I am not quite sure what it means in abstract.

 

'Commissioner Mitchell: I will ask you in detail. You believe that assuming the government should be overthrown, in your opinion, that you and others of like mind would be justified in raising a company of men with military equipment and proceed to take over the government of the United States, of the State of Illinois?

 

'By shaking your head do you mean yes?

 

'Mr. Anastaplo: If you get to the point where overthrow is necessary, then overthrow is justified. It just means that you overthrow the government by force.

 

'Commissioner Mitchell: And would that also include in your mind justification for putting a spy into the administrative department, one or another of the administrative departments of the United States or the government of the State of Illinois?

 

'Mr. Anastaplo: If you got to the point you think the government should be overthrown, I think that would be a legitimate means.

 

'Commissioner Mitchell: There isn't any difference in your mind in the propriety of using a gun or using a spy?

 

'Mr. Anastaplo: I think spies have been used in quite honorable causes.

 

'Commissioner Mitchell: Your answer is, you do think so?

 

'Mr. Anastaplo: Yes.

  

'Commissioner Baker: Let me ask you a question. Are you aware of the fact that the Department of Justice has a list of what are described as subversive organizations?

 

'Mr. Anastaplo: Yes.

 

'Commissioner Baker: Have you ever seen that list?

 

'Mr. Anastaplo: Yes.

 

'Commissioner Baker: Are you a member of any organization that is listed on the Attorney General's list, to your knowledge? (No answer.) Just to keep you from having to work so hard mentally on it, what organizations-give me all the organizations you are affiliated with or are a member of. (No answer.) That oughtn't to be too hard.

 

'Mr. Anastaplo: Do you believe that is a legitimate question?

 

'Commissioner Baker: Yes, I do. We are inquiring into not only your character, but your fitness, under Rule 58. We don't compel you to answer it. Are you a member of the Communist Party?'

  

George lost the case at the US Supreme Court but it was his principled approach to not answering the question in the first place and his ten year battle to overcome the ramifications of that refusal that earned him the respect of many who respect a person who lives a principle centered life.

 

He never would practice law, but he would become a passionate and inspiring teacher according to many.

 

He's been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize twelve times.

 

And they sat him down for dinner next to 'Viewminder' a street photographer... who was only nominated for the Peace Prize once... by himself.

 

Crowned 'The Socrates of Chicago' George has written more books than some of the people I know have read...

 

"He has written books and articles analyzing the influence of Greek literature on American politics, on the Thinker as Artist, and the Artist as Thinker, on the O. J. Simpson trial, on lights at Wrigley Field, on McCarthyism, on hate speech, on lawyers, on judges, on the Bible, on ethics, on Abraham Lincoln, on the remodeling of Soldier field, and I have only touched the surface of his eclecticism. ~ 'George Anastaplo' by Abner Mikva

 

George Anastaplo I admire you.

 

You saw something that was wrong and you refused to be a part of it...

 

Even if that meant it would create difficulty in your life and in your pursuit of the career that you studied so long and hard for.

 

You stood true to your convictions.

 

You stood up for what you believe in.

 

You never backed down.

 

You're an inspiring man and a patriot George Anastaplo.

 

They outta give out a prize for that.

 

Faces on the street

Chicago 7.9.11

35mm 1.8 SOOC with a ping of contrast

 

7.20.11

So yah I just wanted to say that before you judge this, it looks like 10x better in person. Sorry again for how terrible all these images of my home test are...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2. A blacklisted self-portrait.

My concept for this piece is that blacklisting is like a bruise that never fades. It's a wound that never heals, and causes tremors and terror every day. It leaves you as a dissected shadow; it can take your life, or define your life. This piece is meant to depict the effects blacklisting causes, and the aftermath of blacklisting. From both historical and personal examples I can say this is true. Historically, blacklisting such as the McCarthy trials changed everything, although part of that terror was debatably partially created by the Cold War, since it was because of the Cold War that Communism was considered to be such terrible thing and an insult. However, my point is that the blacklisting that came with McCarthyism created a terror amongst society that to this day still somewhat exists. It's really because of blacklisting that we feel the need to hide aspects of ourselves to fit the norms of society. This is very personal to me because during my freshmen year of high school, I was socially blacklisted by friends who I thought I could rely on. It was actually so bad that it was part of why I chose to switch schools. It was partially in school but mostly cyber, which in some ways made it worse. Even though what I experienced is noting close to McCarthyism blacklisting, it still allows me to understand mildly what it is like. For me the terror it created was the worst part. I didn't know who was my friend and who wasn't, I couldn't trust anyone, and worst of all I felt the need to hide myself. Even after I switched schools it never really went away, and it was kind of like a bruise to me because whenever I touched at it, it still hurt. This is all represented in my self portrait obviously by the bruise, but also by the dispersion I have created, and my color choice. I created this effect to depict a sense of self rupture that blacklisting creates in one's life, and also how the true aspects of self begin to fade away and hide. I specifically chose a muted, and darker color pallet to reference bruising, and also to create a somewhat cold, translucent, and almost shallow feeling of self that is formed from blacklisting. My main stylistic influence for this was the work of Anthony Goicolea, specifically his portraits from his 2007 drawing work.

 

The Vietnam War Memorial is located in Westminster, home to the largest Vietnamese community outside Vietnam as well as South Vietnam's government-in-exile.

 

Unlike the Vietnam Veterans Memorial on the Washington Mall which lists the names of the American war dead in Vietnam, this one, built by the Vietnamese immigrants, is about celebrating the efforts that America had put in to protect its "free, democratic" ally South Vietnam.

 

When South Vietnam fell, its elites had already settled in the US; the refugees were airlifted to El Toro Marine Corps Air Station nearby, and ended up making Westminster their main settlement. Similar Vietnamese settlements exist in other parts of the US, including northern Virginia. Today, Vietnamese migration to the US continues, though today's arrivals come in as normal immigrants, and do not share the intense McCarthyism of the wartime arrivals.

 

In and around Westminster, hatred of unified Vietnam (or, as they insist on calling, North Vietnam) is still the overwhelming mentality. Hinting, in any way, the inconvenient fact about South Vietnam having been made up of French colonial collaborators, is probably the fastest way to be ostracized or lynched. Additionally, the "flag of Vietnam" always refers to the flag of the defeated South Vietnam, seen here, and a number of cities in and around Westminster have passed civic resolutions to that effect.

 

Orange County, thanks to the Vietnamese, can often feel a lot like South Florida with its McCarthyist Cuban population. Southern California gets even further doses of immigrant McCarthyism from Korean immigrants (South Korea's own "Communist takeover" lasted from the democratic reforms of 1987 until the 2008 fascist restoration), and to a lesser extent, from Taiwanese immigrants.

It is now no more that toleration is spoken of, as if it was by the indulgence of one class of people, that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights. For happily the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens, in giving it on all occasions their effectual support.

 

George Washington

Letter to Hebrew Congregation of Newport, Rhode Island

August 21, 1790

 

President George Washington wrote a letter to Moses Seixas, the sexton of the Touro Synagogue, America's oldest temple in Newport, Rhode Island, in response to a letter from Seixas that expressed hope that the new government would "give bigotry...no sanction, persecution...no assistance..." and would grant to all "Liberty of conscience, and immunities of Citizenship: deeming every one, of whatever Nation, tongue, or language equal parts of the great governmental Machine."

 

Washington and his fellow Founding Fathers would be dismayed to see where we are in 2019. Tolerance is a rare commodity. Racism is rampant. Many are not deemed "equal." And, most shocking to our first president, our 45th president, Donald Trump, promotes divisions amongst races and religions within our nation for his own gain. Even worse, many Congresspeople put their party ahead of the American people, enabling Trump to continue his rhetoric without consequence.

 

In 2008, Naomi Wolf wrote in the Huffington Post, "Over the past four decades, patriotism was often defined as uncritical support for U.S. policies–such as the Vietnam War-era bumper sticker MY COUNTRY, RIGHT OR WRONG. Patriotism was also branded as support for U.S. militarism, whatever the context or conflict or cost. Sometimes patriotism was identified with “Christian America” and sometimes even as direct evangelism in the context of statecraft. Finally patriotism was rebranded as the active silencing of dissent."

 

"America, love it or leave it" was first popularized by newspaper columnist, Walter Winchell as a defense of McCarthyism in the 1940s and 1950s. It was used again in the 1960s and 1970s to counter protesters of the Vietnam War. It appeared again in the lead-up to the Iraq War in 2003 when many questioned President George W. Bush's decision to attack. When France also questioned the rationale for the war, members of Congress branded french fries as "freedom fries." There was no room for opposition. And, now it is being used again as a call against the political positions of four Congresswomen of color, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York, Ilhan Omar of Minnesota, Ayanna Pressley of Massachusetts and Rashida Tlaib of Michigan.

 

President Trump tweeted, "So interesting to see 'Progressive' Democrat Congresswomen, who originally came from countries whose governments are a complete and total catastrophe, the worst, most corrupt and inept anywhere in the world...now loudly and viciously telling the people of the United States, the greatest and most powerful Nation on earth, how our government is to be run." Even though all are American legislators and citizens (and have every right to state their opinions and policy positions), he went on to say, if they don't like America, they should go back to where they came from (even though three out of the four were born in this country).

 

"Patriotism" used to quell opposition to policies of the American government is a false patriotism. In fact, dissent is one of the foundations of the Constitution. Rather than accept America as it is –or leave, I refuse to cede my love of this country to those who promote narrow-minded visions. Instead of "America, love it or leave it," I believe in "America, love it and change it for the better."

 

Words are being used as weapons. They are used as political shorthand and angry epitaphs, without context, in an effort to mislead voters. These six posters promote a more inclusive notion of love of country. As seen by the text in each, patriotism means many things to people, none of which is blind allegiance to any politician or group of people. We are a nation of immigrants. And, patriotism should always be invoked with broad strokes.

 

The people in the background of each poster are (from left to right): Jeanine Pirro, Fox News commentator, Stephen Miller, Donald Trump's political advisor, Sean Hannity, Fox News personality and Trump confidant, and the president himself. There are six posters in this series. View all of them. And, use them. High resolution downloads are free.

 

See the rest of the posters from the Chamomile Tea Party! Digital high res downloads are free here (click the down arrow on the lower right side of the image). Other options are available. And join our Facebook group.

 

Follow the history of the last eight years of our country's political intransigence through a six-part exhibit of these posters on Google Arts & Culture.

German cigarette card by Ross Verlag in the 'Künstler im Film' series for Zigarettenfabrik Monopol, Dresden, Serie 1, image 148 (of 200). Photo: Paramount.

 

Maurice Chevalier (1888-1972) was a French actor, singer, and entertainer with a very successful Hollywood career. His trademark was a casual straw hat, which he always wore on stage with a cane and a tuxedo.

 

Maurice Auguste Chevalier was born in Paris, France, in 1888, the youngest of nine children. His father was a house painter and his mother, Josephine van den Bosch, was French of Belgian descent. His father did not work steadily. To help out, the 11-year-old Chevalier quit school and worked a number of jobs: a carpenter's apprentice, electrician, printer, and even as a doll painter. According to IMDb, he was even a sparring partner to heavyweight boxing champion Georges Carpentier. After he was injured, he began singing in Paris cafes. In 1901, he was singing, unpaid, at a cafe when a member of the theatre saw him and suggested he try for a local musical. In the following years, 'Mo' appeared in cafes and music halls as a singer and dancer. In 1908 he debuted as a comical actor in short films like Trop crédules/Susceptible Youth (Jean Durand, 1908) and he even worked a few times with the celebrated comedian Max Linder in Par habitude/By habit (Max Linder, 1911) and Une mariée qui se fait attendre/A bride who is waiting (Louis J. Gasnier, 1911). In 1909, he became the partner of the biggest female star in France, Fréhel. She secured him his first major engagement, as a mimic and a singer in l'Alcazar in Marseille. His act in l'Alcazar was so successful, that he made a triumphant re-arrival in Paris. However, due to her alcoholism and drug addiction, the liaison with Fréhel ended in 1911. 23-year-old Chevalier then started a relationship with 36-year-old Mistinguett at the Folies Bergère, where he was her dance partner. Soon she became his lover as well. He also appeared with her in the short comedies Une bougie récalcitrante/A recalcitrant candle (Georges Monca, 1912) and La valse renversante/The stunning waltz (Georges Monca, 1914). During World War I, Maurice Chevalier fought in the French army. He was wounded by shrapnel in the back in the first weeks of combat and was taken as a prisoner of war. During his two years in a German POW camp, he learned English from an English prisoner. According to Wikipedia, he was released in 1916 through the secret intervention of Mistinguett's admirer, King Alfonso XIII of Spain, the only king of a neutral country who related to both the British and German royal families. Later Chevalier was awarded a Croix de Guerre. In 1917, Chevalier became a star in Le Casino de Paris and played before British soldiers and Americans. After the war, he rose to world fame as a star of music halls. He discovered jazz and ragtime. He went to London, where he found new success at the Palace Theatre, even though he still sang in French. He started thinking about touring the United States.

 

After his London success, Maurice Chevalier toured the United States, where he met the American composers George Gershwin and Irving Berlin. Chevalier returned to Paris and developed an interest in acting. He made a huge impression in the operetta Dédé by Henri Christiné and a libretto by Albert Willemetz. In addition to his work on the stage, Chevalier began appearing in films like Le Mauvais garçon/Bad Boy (Henri Diamant Berger, 1922) and Jim Bougne, boxeur (Henri Diamant Berger, 1923). In Gonzague (Henri Diamant-Berger, 1922), he co-starred with Marguerite Moreno and Georges Milton. With the help of George Gershwin and Irving Berlin, he brought Dédé to Broadway in 1922. Douglas Fairbanks offered him star billing in a Hollywood film with Mary Pickford, but Chevalier doubted his own talent for silent films. The films he had made in Paris had largely failed. In 1922, Chevalier also met Yvonne Vallée, a young dancer, who became his wife in 1927. In these years, he created several songs still known today, such as Valentine (1924). When the sound film arrived in 1928, Maurice Chevalier tried his luck in Hollywood. In 1929 he starred for Paramount Pictures in his first American film musical, Innocents of Paris (Richard Wallace, 1929). In this film he introduced his theme song, Louise (music by Richard A. Whiting, lyrics by Leo Robin). He was nominated for Academy Awards for The Love Parade (Ernst Lubitsch, 1929) and The Big Pond (Hobart Henley, 1930). The Big Pond gave Chevalier his first big American hit songs, Livin' In the Sunlight - Lovin' In the Moonlight, plus A New Kind of Love. Besides The Love Parade, Chevalier and director Ernst Lubitsch made four more hilarious pictures together, the all-star revue film Paramount on Parade (1930), The Smiling Lieutenant (1931) with Claudette Colbert and Miriam Hopkins, the Oscar-nominated One Hour With You (1932) - again with Jeanette MacDonald, and The Merry Widow (1934), the first sound film version of the famous Franz Lehár operetta. Between 1928 and 1935, Chevalier became recognised as 'the epitome of French charm and sophistication'. His films were instrumental in making film musicals popular again around 1932 and he became the highest-paid star in Hollywood. As the star of radio's long-running Chase and Sanborn Hour, he earned $5000 weekly, a record for radio performers up to that time.

 

In 1935 Maurice returned to Europe, where he also made several films, like Le vagabond bien-aimé/The Beloved Vagabond (Kurt Bernhardt aka Curtis Bernhardt, 1936), Avec le sourire/With a Smile (Maurice Tourneur, 1936), L'homme du jour/The Man of the Hour (Julien Duvivier, 1937) and Pièges/Snares (Robert Siodmak, 1939) in which he played a serial killer opposite Marie Déa and Pierre Renoir. In 1937, he married the dancer Nita Raya. He had several stage successes, such as his revue 'Paris en Joie' in the Casino de Paris. A year later, he performed in 'Amours de Paris'. His songs continued to become big hits, such as 'Prosper' (1935), 'Ma Pomme' (1936) and 'Ça fait d'excellents français' (1939). In 1938 he was decorated a Chevalier of the Legion of Honor. During World War II, Chevalier kept performing for audiences. In 1941, he performed a new revue in the Casino de Paris: 'Bonjour Paris', which was another success. From 1941 to 1945, he sang the songs composed by Henri Betti with the lyrics of Maurice Vandair as 'Notre Espoir' (1941), 'La Chanson du Maçon' (1941) and 'La Fête à Neu-Neu' (1943). The Nazis asked Chevalier to perform in Berlin and to sing for the collaborating radio station Radio-Paris. He refused, but he did perform in front of war prisoners in Germany at the camp where he was interned in World War I, and succeeded in liberating ten people in exchange. In 1942 he returned to Bocca, near Cannes, but returned to Paris in September. In 1944 when Allied forces freed France, Chevalier was accused of collaborationism. Even though he was acquitted by a French convened court, the English-speaking press remained hostile and he was refused a visa for several years. For this Wikipedia gives also another explanation: "In 1944, he had already participated in a Communist demonstration in Paris. He was therefore even less popular in the U.S. during the McCarthyism period; in 1951, he was refused re-entry into the U.S. because he had signed the Stockholm Appeal." This was a petition against nuclear weapons and the U.S. State Department had declared Chevalier "potentially dangerous" to the security of the United States.

 

After World War II, Maurice Chevalier was still popular in France. In 1946, he split from Nita Raya and started writing his memoirs, which took many years to complete. He toured the world with his one-man show and acted in films like Le Silence est d'Or/Silence Is Golden (René Clair, 1946). In 1952, he bought a large property in Marnes-la-Coquette, near Paris, and named it La Louque, as a homage to his mother's nickname. He started a relationship in 1952 with Janie Michels, a young divorcee with three children. In the late 1950s, after the McCarthy era abated, he returned to Hollywood. The Billy Wilder film Love in the Afternoon (1957) with Audrey Hepburn and Gary Cooper was his first Hollywood film in more than 20 years. Chevalier then appeared in the hit musical Gigi (Vincente Minnelli, 1958) with Leslie Caron. Older and gray-headed he sang his signature songs, Thank Heaven for Little Girls, and I Remember it Well, the latter with Hermione Gingold. The success of Gigi prompted Hollywood to give him an Honorary Academy Award in 1959 for his achievements in entertainment. In the 1960s, he continued to make a few more films, including the drama Fanny (Joshua Logan, 1961), in which he starred with Leslie Caron and Charles Boyer. This film was an updated version of Marcel Pagnol's Marseilles Trilogy. In 1965, at 77, Chevalier made another world tour. In 1967 he toured in Latin America, again, the US, Europe, and Canada. The following year, he announced his farewell tour. In 1970, a few years after his retirement, he sang the title song for Walt Disney's, The AristoCats (Wolfgang Reitherman, 1970). This marked his last contribution to the film industry. Maurice Chevalier died in Paris, in 1972, aged 83.

 

Sources: Volker Boehm (IMDb), AllMovie, Wikipedia and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

The dynamic duo.

 

This caricature of Ted Cruz was adapted with permission from a photo from Communities Digital News. The body was adapted from a Creative Commons licensed photo fromMichael Vadon's Flickr photostream.

This caricature of Carly Fiorina is an original Photoshop painting. The body was adapted from Creative Commons Licensed photos from Gage Skidmore's Flickr photosteam.

 

Early Production:

The 1954 Corvette was rushed into production following the 1953 General Motors Motorama car show, with the first car rolling off the assembly line in June 1953. Only 300 cars were produced. GM was anticipating manufacturing 10,000 units for the 1954 model year but after deciding to switch production from their Flint, Michigan plant to their St. Louis facility, production stalled. Only 3,640 cars were produced in 1954. Disappointedly, only 600 cars were sold in 1954. Chevrolet was finally able to unload the rest of them in 1955 although it proved to be very difficult.

 

The only difference between the 1953 and 1954 models was that ’54 Corvettes were available in more colors than just white.

 

Body:

• Fiberglass body

• chrome-framed grille with 13 heavy vertical chrome bars

• rounded front fenders with recessed headlights with wire screen covers

• no side windows or outside door handles

• a wraparound windshield

• protruding, fender-integrated taillights.

 

Interior features:

• Floor-mounted shifter for the Powerglide two-speed automatic transmission

• oil pressure gauge

• battery gauge

• water temperature gauge

• fuel gauge

• tachometer

• clock

 

Engine Facts:

The 1954 Corvette had one engine available, an inline six-cylinder that was 235 cid, which put out 150 hp. Later in the year a new camshaft was introduced which raised the horsepower to 155. Not too impressive, but at least getting better!

Carburetor: Three Carter Type YH one-barrel Model 2066S on the early models and Model 2055S on later models.

 

Chassis Facts:

Wheelbase 102 inches (2.591 m)

Overall length 167 inches (4.242 m)

Front tread 57 inches (1.448 m)

Rear tread 58.8 inches (1.494 m)

Wheels steel disk

Tires 6.70x15

Front suspension coil springs with tubular shock absorbers and stabilizer bar

Rear suspension Leaf springs, tube shocks and solid rear axle

Brakes Drum on all four wheels

Axle ratio 3.55:1

  

Options Available:

AM Radio - $145.15

Directional Signals - $16.75

Heater - $91.40

Windshield Washer - $11.85

Parking Brake Alarm - $5.65

Powerglide Automatic Transmission - $178.35

Courtesy Lights - $4.05

White sidewall tires - price not available

 

Pricing in 1954:

$2,774.00 (price today – move the decimal point two places to the right!)

 

Total Production:

3,640

 

****** While the early Corvettes were certainly not a true "sports car" in the European sense of what a sports car should be but true to the American "mentality", the designers at General Motors did manage to spur the "automotive enthusiasts juices" of many in the United States. ******

 

In the year of 1954

 

1954 following more wives moving back into the workforce the economy continued to grow and consumer goods and television programs included the popular "Father Knows Best" Marlin Brando starred in two of the most popular movies " On The Waterfront" and "The Wild One" The Movie " Blackboard Jungle" also featured the song " Rock Around The Clock" from Bill Haley and the Comets, and Elvis Presley cut his first commercial record. A new trend also started called DIY Do It Yourself projects as families wanted to improve their homes and do their own maintenance. Car engines continued to get bigger and more powerful and gas cost 29 cents. NBC’s “The Tonight Show” was first aired with Steve Allen as the host. Following the discovery of a vaccine against Polio, the first mass vaccination of children against begins. Brown v Board of Education makes segregation in US Public Schools Unconstitutional.

 

1954 Dwight D. Eisenhower was President of the United States

 

How much things cost in 1954

Yearly Inflation Rate USA 0.32%

Yearly Inflation Rate UK 1.9%

Average Cost of new house $10.250.00

Cost of a gallon of Gas 22 cents

Average Cost of a new car $1,700.00

Average Monthly Rent $85.00

Movie Ticket 70 cents

Life Magazine 20 cents

The Dow Jones Industrial Average closes at an all-time high of 382.74

 

1954 National Average (annual) wage index - $3,155.64

 

What was playing at the movies

White Christmas

The Caine Mutiny

The Glenn Miller Story

On the Waterfront

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

 

July 1954 - The Geneva Conference is held after the French suffer a great loss in the Battle of Dien bien phu. The 17th parallel is set as the boundary between Communist North Vietnam and Western-controlled South Vietnam

 

McCarthyism:

1954 - The Army decides to fight back and holds the televised Army-McCarthy hearings from April until June. The dramatic hearings draw a large audience as viewers watch McCarthy self-destruct

December 1954 - Senator McCarthy is formally censured by the Senate in a 67 to 22 vote, effectively ending his Communist witch hunt

 

1954 - President Eisenhower signs into law the new social security bill funded by employers and employees. (The original Social Security bill enacted into law – 1935).

 

The Korean War was officially over (Armistice Agreement signed July 27, 1953 after 3 years, 2 months and 2 days of full scale hostilities). After the war, Operation Glory (July–November 1954) was conducted to allow combatant countries to exchange their dead. The remains of 4,167 US Army and US Marine Corps dead were exchanged for 13,528 KPA and PVA dead, and 546 civilians dead in UN prisoner-of-war camps were delivered to the ROK government. After Operation Glory, 416 Korean War unknown soldiers were buried in the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific (The Punchbowl), on the island of Oahu, Hawaii. Defense Prisoner of War/Missing Personnel Office (DPMO) records indicate that the PRC and the DPRK transmitted 1,394 names, of which 858 were correct. From 4,167 containers of returned remains, forensic examination identified 4,219 individuals. Of these, 2,944 were identified as American, and all but 416 were identified by name. From 1996 to 2006, the DPRK recovered 220 remains near the Sino-Korean border.

 

1954 Jan 4, Elvis Presley recorded a 10 minute demo in Nashville.

 

1954 Jan 12, Howard Stern, "Radio's Bad Boy," was born in Roosevelt, NY.

 

1954 Jan 29, Oprah Winfrey, actress, TV host (Color Purple, Oprah), was born in Mississippi.

 

1954 Mar 1, baseball legend, Boston Red Sox left fielder, Ted Williams fractured a collarbone in 1st game of spring training after flying 39 combat missions without injury in Korean War.

 

1954 Mar 25, RCA manufactured its first color TV set and began mass production. The 1953 RCA design for color TV was adopted as the national standard. The 12" screen TV was priced at $1000. Westinghouse had introduced a color model a few weeks earlier, but only 1 set was sold in the 1st month.

 

1954 The rosebowl Parade is broadcast in color on TV

 

1954 Sports Illustrated first issue

 

1954 .................... this photographer was 10 years old and not yet famous..............and still isn’t!

The Thing from Another World 1951

Watch the skies, everywhere! Keep looking. Keep watching the skies!

—Ned “Scotty” Scott

 

www.popscreen.com/v/7aMWr/The-Thing-from-Another-World Full Feature

www.youtube.com/v/T5xcVxkTZzM Trailer

This is one of the major classics of 50s sci fi movies. Released in April of 1951, it was the first full-length film to feature a flying saucer from outer space, which carried a hostile alien. The budget and the effects are typical B-grade stuff, but the acting and pacing are well above the usual B levels. Kenneth Toby and Margaret Sheriden star. James Arness (more known for his westerns) plays The Thing.

Howard Hawks' early foray into the science fiction genre took advantage of the anti-communist feelings of the time to help enhance the horror elements of the story. McCarthyism and the Korean War added fuel to the notion of Americans stalked by a force which was single of mind and "devoid of morality." But in the end, it is American soldiers and scientists who triumph over the evil force - or the monster in the case of this film. Even today, this is considered one of the best of the genre.

Film review by Jeff Flugel. June 2013

There's not a lot new or particularly insightful I can offer when it comes to discussing the seminal sci-fi flick, The Thing from Another World that hasn't been written about ad naseum elsewhere. One of the most famous and influential of all 1950s creature features, it kicked off more than a decade of alien invasion and bug-eyed monster movie mayhem, inspired a host of future filmmakers (one of whom, John Carpenter, would go on to direct his own version of the story in 1982), and remains one of the best-written and engaging films of its kind.

Loosely (and I do mean loosely) adapted from John W. Campbell's novella, "Who Goes There?," The Thing is legendary director Howard Hawks' lone foray into the science fiction/ horror genres, but it fits comfortably into his filmography, featuring as it does Hawks' favorite themes: a group of tough professionals doing their job with ease, good-humored banter and practiced finesse; a bit of romance with a gutsy dame who can easily hold her own with the boys; and lots of overlapping, razor-sharp dialogue. Featuring a script by Charles Lederer and an uncredited Ben Hecht, The Thing is easily the most spryly written and funniest of all 50s monster movies. In fact, it's this sharpness in the scripting, and the extremely likeable ensemble cast of characters, rather than the now-familiar story and somewhat unimaginative monster design, that makes the film still feel fresh and modern to this day.

There's likely few people out there reading this who don't know the story of The Thing like the back of their hand, but here goes...When an unidentified aircraft crashes close to a remote research station near the North Pole, Captain Pat Hendry (Kenneth Tobey, in the role of his career) and his squad are dispatched there to investigate. Dr. Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) heads the scientific contingent there, and he informs Hendry that he thinks the downed craft is possibly "not of this earth." A joint team of soldiers and scientists head out to the crash site and find an actual, honest-to-goodness flying saucer lying buried under the ice.

The spaceship is destroyed while the men try to melt the ice around it with thermite bombs, but they find a lone, 8-foot-tall extraterrestrial occupant frozen nearby and bring the body back to the outpost in a block of ice. Dr. Carrington and his crew of eggheads want to study the thing, but Hendry is adamant that it should be kept as is until he gets word from his superior in Anchorage, General Fogerty. It wouldn't be a monster movie without something going pear-shaped, of course, and before you know it, a careless mistake results in the creature being thawed out of his iceberg coffin and going on a bit of a rampage, taking out a number of sled dogs and a few unsuspecting scientists along the way. The rest of the film details the tense battle between the surviving humans and the coldly intelligent, remorseless alien invader, which seems virtually unkillable, impregnable to cold, bullets and fire...

The set-up for the film, and how everything eventually plays out, might seem overly familiarly nowadays, but in 1951, this was cutting-edge stuff, at least in cinemas. The Thing plays as a veritable blueprint of how to make a compelling "alien monster-on-the-loose" movie. Howard Hawks not being particularly well-versed, or even interested in, science fiction per se likely worked to its benefit, as he ended up making, as he so often did in his other films, what is first-and-foremost a well-oiled entertainment, rather than simply a genre exercise.

Typical of a Hawks film, The Thing is meticulously designed, composed and shot, but in such a way as to appear offhand. Hawks almost never went in for showy camera angles or flashy effects. His technique was nearly invisible; he just got on with telling the story, in the most straightforward, unfussy way. But this easy, seemingly effortless style was very carefully considered, by a shrewd and knowing mind. As Bill Warren, author of one of the best (and certainly most encyclopedic) books about 1950s sci-fi filmmaking, Keep Watching the Skies, notes in his detailed analysis of the film:

As most good movies do, The Thing works in two areas: sight and sound. The locale is a cramped, tunnel-like base; the men are confined within, the Thing can move freely outdoors in the cold. Compositions are often crowded, with more people in the shot than seems comfortable, reinforcing the idea of confinement After the Thing escapes, only the alien itself is seen standing and moving alone.

This feeling of a cold, hostile environment outside the base is constantly reinforced throughout the film, and a real tension mounts when, towards the climax, the highly intelligent Thing, itself immune to the subzero arctic conditions, turns off the compound's heating, knowing the humans inside will quickly die without it. (The freaky, otherworldly theremin-flavored music by Dimitri Tiomkin adds a lot to the eerie atmosphere here.)

As groundbreaking and well-structured as the plot of The Thing was (and is), what makes the film play so well today is the great script and the interaction of a bunch of seasoned character actors, who toss off both exposition and pithy bon mots in such a low-key, believable manner. This is a truly ensemble movie, and the fact that it doesn't feature any big name stars really adds to the overall effect; no one really hogs all the limelight or gets the lion's share of good lines. Hawks was a director who usually worked with the biggest names in the business, but, much as in the earlier Air Force, he was equally at home working with a cast of rock-solid character actors.

All this talk of Howard Hawks as director, when it's actually Christian Nyby who is credited with the job, has long been a source of speculation with fans of the film. Todd McCarthy, in his bio Howard Hawks: The Grey Fox of Hollywood, seems to clear the issue up once and for all (though really, after viewing enough Hawks films, the results speak for themselves):

The perennial question surrounding The Thing From Another World has always been, Who actually directed it, Christian Nyby or Howard Hawks? The sum of participants' responses make the answer quite clear. Putting it most bluntly, (associate producer) Ed Lasker said "Chris Nyby didn't direct a thing. One day Howard was late and Chris said,'Why don't we get started? I know what the shot should be.' And I said, 'No, Chris, I think we'll wait until Howard gets here." Ken Tobey testified, "Chris Nyby directed one scene. Howard Hawks was there, but he let Chris direct one scene. We all rushed into a room, eight or ten of us, and we practically knocked each other over. No one knew what to do." Dewey Martin, Robert Cornthwaite and Richard Keinen all agreed that Hawks was the director, and Bill Self said, "Chris Nyby was a very nice, decent fellow, but he wasn't Howard Hawks."

Nyby had been Hawks' editor on a number of films, and Hawks apparently decided to help his collaborator establish a name for himself by allowing him directorial credit on the film. This seemingly altruistic gesture didn't mean that Hawks wasn't involved in virtually every aspect of the making of the film, however, and ultimately, The Thing did little for Nyby's directing career, at least on the big screen (he did go on to a long and busy career directing for numerous television programs, however.)

Bill Self was told at the time that Hawks didn't take directing credit on The Thing because it was planned as a low-budget film, one in which RKO didn't have much confidence. But, as critics have been saying ever since it was released, The Thing is a Howard Hawks film in everything but name. The opening scene of various members of the team bantering is so distilled as to be a virtual parody of Hawksian overlapping dialogue. Even more than Only Angels Have Wings, the picture presents a pristine example of a group operating resourcefully in a hermetically sealed environment in which everything in the outside world represents a grave threat. (3)

In addition to all the masculine camaraderie and spooky goings-on, one of the best aspects of The Thing is the fun, charming little tease of a romance between Capt. Hendry and Nikki (top-billed Margaret Sheridan). Nikki works as Prof. Carrington's assistant and is not merely the requisite "babe" in the film. True to the Hawksian norm, she's no pushover when it comes to trading insults with the men, nor a shrinking violet when up to her neck in perilous situations. Unlike most actresses in 50s monster movies, she doesn't utter a single scream in The Thing

and in fact, it's her practical suggestion which gives Bob, Hendry's ever-resourceful crew chief (Dewey Martin), the notion of how to finally kill the monster. Lederer and Hecht's screenplay hints at the backstory to Nikki and Pat's relationship in humorous and oblique ways, and their flirtation amidst all the chaos adds sparkle to the film but never gets in the way of the pace of the story. One nice little throwaway exchange near the finale encapsulates their verbal give-and-take, as Nikki playfully pokes the temporarily-befuddled Hendry, as his men scurry about, setting Bob's plan in motion.

Nikki: Looks as if the situation's well in hand.

Hendry: I've given all the orders I'm gonna give.

Nikki: If I thought that were true, I'd ask you to marry me.

Sheridan, a former model signed to a 5-year contract by Hawks, is quite good here, but after The Thing her career never really caught fire and she retired from acting a few years later. The closest thing to a star turn in the film is Kenneth Tobey as Capt. Hendry. Tobey racked up an impressive number of credits throughout his nearly 50-year-long career, generally as gruff, competent military men or similar types, and he was always good value, though it's as Capt. Hendry in The Thing that he truly shines. He consistently humanizes the no-nonsense, take charge man of action Hendry by displaying an easygoing approach to command. Most of Hendry's men call him by his first name, and delight in ribbing him about his budding romance with Nikki, and he responds to all this joshing in kind. When things get hairy, Tobey's Hendry doesn't have to bark his orders; it's clear that, despite the friendly banter, his men hold him in high esteem and leap to do his bidding at a moment's notice.

Many of the other members of the cast, while none of them ever became household names, will likely be recognizable from countless other roles in both film and television. Hawks gave Dewey Martin co-star billing in The Big Sky a few years later. Robert Cornthwaite kept busy for decades on stage and television, as well as in supporting roles in films such as Monkey Business, Kiss Me Deadly and Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? John Dierkes (Dr. Chapman) and Douglas Spencer (Scotty) both had juicy roles in the western classic Shane, as well as many other movies too numerous to name. Sharp-eyed viewers will also recognize Eduard Franz, Paul Frees (he of the famous voice) and Groucho Marx's right-hand man on You Bet Your Life, George Fenneman, in pivotal roles. And of course we mustn't forget 6' 7" James Arness (years before becoming renowned as Marshall Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke) as the hulking Thing.

A quick note on the "remake": John Carpenter's The Thing (1982), a bleak, grisly and brilliant take on the story, was a box-office dud when first released, but has since attained well-deserved status as a modern classic. While most fans seem divided into two camps - those who love the more restrained, old-fashioned thrills of the original, and those who prefer the more visceral, paranoiac Carpenter version - I happen to treasure both films equally and revisit each of them often. The Carpenter version is by far the gutsier, unsettling one, emphasizing as it does the "trust no one," shape-shifting "the alien is one of us" scenario imagined by John W. Campbell, but the Hawks' film is the most fun, with a far more likeable array of characters, working together to defeat an implacable menace. Each has its own clear merits. I wouldn't want to do without either film, and frankly see no need to choose one over the other.

"Every one of you listening to my voice...tell the world. Tell this to everybody, wherever they are: Watch the skies. Everywhere. Keep looking. Keep watching the skies.”

Acting Credits

Margaret Sheridan - Nikki Nicholson

Kenneth Tobey - Captain Patrick Hendrey

Robert Cornthwaite - Professor Carrington

Dewey Martin - Crew Chief

Douglas Spencer - Ned "Scotty" Scott

Eduard Franz - Dr Stern

Robert Nichols - Lieutenant Ken Erickson

William Self - Colonel Barnes

Sally Creighton - Mrs Chapman

John Dierkes - Dr. Chapman

James R. Young - Lieutenant Eddie Dykes

Norbert Schiller - Dr. Laurenz

William Neff - Olson

Allan Ray - Officer

Lee Tung Foo - Cook

Edmund Breon - Dr. Ambrose

George Fenneman - Dr. Redding

Tom Steele - Stuntman

James Arness - The Thing

Billy Curtis - The Thing While Shrinking

 

Rafael Edward Cruz, aka Ted Cruz, is a Republican United States Senator for the state of Texas. He is a running for President in the Republican primary.

 

This caricature of Ted Cruz was adapted with permission from a photo from Communities Digital News.

read: blogfrizz.wordpress.com/einstein-de/

sign, found on a jet in an aircraft museum in MUNICH; you can use this warbird both over Arabian nations as well in English spoken areas ... - but I'm sure, the question is not, how to get out off a single jet, but, on the other side, how to get out off a never ending war ... visit my group www.flickr.com/groups/universal-soldier/ - comment by Davide Cherubini: "Unfortunately it doesn't exist a seat with automatic ejection to exit from a war, however if our governments would take care of the people will (and not of the lobbies will), we probably would have more chance to exit from wars..."

Mamiya 7 rangefinder, Kodak VC 400 120, open aperture.

Josh Douglas PHotography

Digital still sucks donkey

These vintage matchboxes allowed their holders to show off patronage at fancy taverns...or just advertised chewing gum ;-)

German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 1469/1, 1927-1928. Photo: Aafa Film. Wilhelm (William) Dieterle in Zopf und Schwert - Die tolle Prinzessin (Victor Janson, 1926).

 

Wilhelm Dieterle (later William Dieterle) (1893-1972) was a German actor and director who started out in Weimar cinema, before becoming a well-known Hollywood director.

 

Wilhelm Dieterle was born in 1893 in Ludwigshafen am Rhein and of humble descendant, took acting lessons at a young age, and began his career as a stage actor in 1911 at the theatre in Arnsberg, which also included work as extra, singer, dancer and stagehand; hence his white gloves, which he continued to wear in Hollywood. In 1912-1914 he worked at theatres in Heilbronn, Plauen and Bad Dürkheim, in 1914-1917 in Mainz (under the direction of future film director Ludwig Berger). In 1917-1918 he played in Zürich, in 1918-1919 in Berlin and 1919-1920 in Munich. He had his breakthrough in 1920-1923 with Max Reinhardt’s Deutschen Theater in Berlin. In this era, he mainly worked there, next to sidesteps with the companies of Leopold Jessner, Viktor Barnowsky and Karlheinz Martin. In 1924 Dieterle had his own theatre company, but it was short-lived. After an incidental film performance in the Schiller adaptation Fiesko (Phil Jutzi, 1913), Dieterle’s acting became numerous from 1919 on, all through the 1920s. Dieterle appeared in major films of the Weimar era. He was Henny Porten’s ill-fated fiancé and Fritz Kortner’s rival in love in Leopold Jessner’s classic Kammerspiel Hintertreppe/ Backstairs (1921). Actually, in those years Dieterle was often paired with Porten, before Hintertreppe in Die Geier-Wally (E.A. Dupont, 1921), and afterward in Frauenopfer (Karl Grune, 1921). Dieterle also was the poet, and the Persian baker and Russian prince in the Harun al Raschid and Iwan the Terrible sequences, in Paul Leni’s Wachsfigurenkabinett/Waxworks (1923/1924). He was Henny Porten’s young husband in the internationally popular Mutter und Kind (Carl Froehlich, 1924). And he was Gretchen’s brother Valentin in F.W. Murnau’s Faust (1926), killed by Mephisto.

 

From 1923 on, Wilhelm Dieterle directed his first films, in which he always had the lead; starting with the Heimat-film Der Mensch am Wege (1923), in which Marlene Dietrich had one of her first roles. The major example of his own output was Geschlecht in Fesseln/Sex in Chains (1928), one of the films produced by his own company Charha (1927), which he ran with his wife, scriptwriter and actress Charlotte Hagenbruch. A man (Dieterle) accidentally kills another who tried to harass his wife (Mary Johnson) and ends in jail, where he is seduced by an inmate, while his wife gives in to another man as well. After his liberation, the couple feels guilt and commits suicide. In particular between 1928 and 1930, Dieterle directed many films for his own company, in which he starred and for which his wife signed the script, such as the melodrama Die Heilige und ihr Narr (1928), with Lien Deyers and Gina Manès, and the mountain film Das Schweigen im Walde (1929). Dieterle’s work in Germany was internationally so successful, that he was offered a contract by Warner Bros. in 1930 to make German versions of American sound films for the German department of Warner’s subsidiary First National, Deutsche First National Pictures GmbH (Defina). An example is Die heilige Flamme (1930/31), co-directed with Berthold Viertel and starring Salka Viertel. In the States, Dieterle stopped acting and focused on directing. As Dieterle was Jewish, he was lucky to get away from the slowly worsening situation in Germany; three years later, Hitler would take over and ban all Jews from the film industry.

 

In the US, William Dieterle quickly adapted and was permitted to start directing his own films. With Michael Curtiz, Dieterle soon became the regular Warner film director, working in every possible genre, such as comedies with Kay Francis and the melodrama The Crash with Ruth Chatterton. Together with Max Reinhardt, with whom Dieterle had played in Germany, he adapted Midsummer Night’s Dream for cinema, but the result failed to convince the critics. In the early 1930s, Dieterle was highly productive with Warner, turning out 6 films per year in 1933 and 1934. He probably had to: in 1933 he had received a seven-year contract from Warner. From the mid-1930s on Dieterle became well-known for his bio-pics. The Story of Louis Pasteur (1936) won him an Oscar nomination while The Life of Emile Zola (1937) got him the Oscar; in both films, Paul Muni played the lead. Other memorable titles were the Mark Twain adaptation The Prince and the Pauper (1937) with Errol Flynn, Juarez (1939) with Bette Davis as the empress Carlotta, and The Hunchback of the Notre Dame (1939) with Charles Laughton as Quasimodo. In 1937 Warner offered Dieterle, by now an American citizen, the opportunity to study Russian production methods for four months at Lenfilm in Moscow. In 1938-1940 he taught theatre lessons at the Max Reinhardt Workshop of Stage, Screen, and Radio, and in 1939 he co-founded the antifascist cultural magazine The Hollywood Tribune and the English spoken exile theatre company The Continental Players, directed by Jessner. After his contract with Warner expired, Dieterle broke with them and tried his own film company at RKO. When that failed, he mainly made films with MGM, Selznick, and Paramount.

 

During the 1940s, William Dieterle focused on romantic, lush melodramas such as the Technicolor exotic tale Kismet (1944) with Ronald Colman and Marlene Dietrich, and Love Letters (1945) and Portrait of Jennie (1948), both with Joseph Cotten and Jennifer Jones. Love Letters became an enormous success and earned Jones an Oscar. In the 1950s, Dieterle’s career declined because of McCarthyism. In 1950 he went to Italy to shoot Vulcano, the rival to Rossellini’s Stromboli. When Anna Magnani knew that her former lover planned to make a film with his new girlfriend Ingrid Bergman on an Italian island near Sicily, Magnani pushed a Sicilian producer to make a rivalling film that had to come out before Rossellini’s. The affair was known as ‘la Guerra dei vulcani’, also referring to Magnani’s tempestuous character. Around the same time, Dieterle also shot in Italy the highly romantic September Affair (1950), with Joseph Cotten and Joan Fontaine, about a married man and a woman who start an affair in Naples and Capri. After they decide to split, they are believed to have been killed in a plane crash and start a second life, but responsibility calls. Returned to Hollywood, Dieterle made crime films like Dark City (1950) with Charlton Heston, Boots Malone (1952) and The Turning Point (1952), both with William Holden. but also epic melodramas such as Salome (1953), starring Rita Hayworth and partly shot in Jerusalem, and Omar Khayyam (1956), starring Cornel Wilde and shot in the Bronson Canyon. In 1958 Dieterle returned to Germany and worked till his death as stage director for various companies in Germany, Switzerland, and Austria; he also worked for German (Sender Freies Berlin) and Austrian television and (co-) directed two features: a remake of Joe May’s classic Herrin der Welt (1959/60) and Die Fastnachtsbeichte (1960). From 1961 to 1965, he was the manager of the theatre at Bad Hersfeld. After his failed attempt to make a comeback in Hollywood with The Confession (1964), Dieterle’s last film direction, he remained in Germany, working at the stage. Wilhelm Dieterle died in 1972 and was buried in Munich. From 1921 on, Dieterle was married to Charlotte Hagenbruch; after she died in 1968, his second wife was Elisabeth Daum.

 

Sources: Wikipedia (English and German), Filmportal.de, Cinegraph, and IMDb.

It is now no more that toleration is spoken of, as if it was by the indulgence of one class of people, that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights. For happily the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens, in giving it on all occasions their effectual support.

 

George Washington

Letter to Hebrew Congregation of Newport, Rhode Island

August 21, 1790

 

President George Washington wrote a letter to Moses Seixas, the sexton of the Touro Synagogue, America's oldest temple in Newport, Rhode Island, in response to a letter from Seixas that expressed hope that the new government would "give bigotry...no sanction, persecution...no assistance..." and would grant to all "Liberty of conscience, and immunities of Citizenship: deeming every one, of whatever Nation, tongue, or language equal parts of the great governmental Machine."

 

Washington and his fellow Founding Fathers would be dismayed to see where we are in 2019. Tolerance is a rare commodity. Racism is rampant. Many are not deemed "equal." And, most shocking to our first president, our 45th president, Donald Trump, promotes divisions amongst races and religions within our nation for his own gain. Even worse, many Congresspeople put their party ahead of the American people, enabling Trump to continue his rhetoric without consequence.

 

In 2008, Naomi Wolf wrote in the Huffington Post, "Over the past four decades, patriotism was often defined as uncritical support for U.S. policies–such as the Vietnam War-era bumper sticker MY COUNTRY, RIGHT OR WRONG. Patriotism was also branded as support for U.S. militarism, whatever the context or conflict or cost. Sometimes patriotism was identified with “Christian America” and sometimes even as direct evangelism in the context of statecraft. Finally patriotism was rebranded as the active silencing of dissent."

 

"America, love it or leave it" was first popularized by newspaper columnist, Walter Winchell as a defense of McCarthyism in the 1940s and 1950s. It was used again in the 1960s and 1970s to counter protesters of the Vietnam War. It appeared again in the lead-up to the Iraq War in 2003 when many questioned President George W. Bush's decision to attack. When France also questioned the rationale for the war, members of Congress branded french fries as "freedom fries." There was no room for opposition. And, now it is being used again as a call against the political positions of four Congresswomen of color, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York, Ilhan Omar of Minnesota, Ayanna Pressley of Massachusetts and Rashida Tlaib of Michigan.

 

President Trump tweeted, "So interesting to see 'Progressive' Democrat Congresswomen, who originally came from countries whose governments are a complete and total catastrophe, the worst, most corrupt and inept anywhere in the world...now loudly and viciously telling the people of the United States, the greatest and most powerful Nation on earth, how our government is to be run." Even though all are American legislators and citizens (and have every right to state their opinions and policy positions), he went on to say, if they don't like America, they should go back to where they came from (even though three out of the four were born in this country).

 

"Patriotism" used to quell opposition to policies of the American government is a false patriotism. In fact, dissent is one of the foundations of the Constitution. Rather than accept America as it is –or leave, I refuse to cede my love of this country to those who promote narrow-minded visions. Instead of "America, love it or leave it," I believe in "America, love it and change it for the better."

 

Words are being used as weapons. They are used as political shorthand and angry epitaphs, without context, in an effort to mislead voters. These six posters promote a more inclusive notion of love of country. As seen by the text in each, patriotism means many things to people, none of which is blind allegiance to any politician or group of people. We are a nation of immigrants. And, patriotism should always be invoked with broad strokes.

 

The people in the background of each poster are (from left to right): Jeanine Pirro, Fox News commentator, Stephen Miller, Donald Trump's political advisor, Sean Hannity, Fox News personality and Trump confidant, and the president himself. There are six posters in this series. View all of them. And, use them. High resolution downloads are free.

 

See the rest of the posters from the Chamomile Tea Party! Digital high res downloads are free here (click the down arrow on the lower right side of the image). Other options are available. And join our Facebook group.

 

Follow the history of the last eight years of our country's political intransigence through a six-part exhibit of these posters on Google Arts & Culture.

EXPLORE: Highest position: 267 on Sunday, July 26, 2009

 

Charlie Chaplin, spotted outside the Birkenstock store in Verona.

 

A little background info from Wikipedia:

'During the era of McCarthyism, Chaplin was accused of "un-American activities" as a suspected communist sympathizer and J. Edgar Hoover, who had instructed the FBI to keep extensive secret files on him, tried to end his United States residency. FBI pressure on Chaplin grew after his 1942 campaign for a second European front in the war and reached a critical level in the late 1940s, when Congressional figures threatened to call him as a witness in hearings. This was never done, probably from fear of Chaplin's ability to lampoon the investigators.'

The Thing from Another World 1951

Watch the skies, everywhere! Keep looking. Keep watching the skies!

—Ned “Scotty” Scott

 

www.popscreen.com/v/7aMWr/The-Thing-from-Another-World Full Feature

www.youtube.com/v/T5xcVxkTZzM Trailer

This is one of the major classics of 50s sci fi movies. Released in April of 1951, it was the first full-length film to feature a flying saucer from outer space, which carried a hostile alien. The budget and the effects are typical B-grade stuff, but the acting and pacing are well above the usual B levels. Kenneth Toby and Margaret Sheriden star. James Arness (more known for his westerns) plays The Thing.

Howard Hawks' early foray into the science fiction genre took advantage of the anti-communist feelings of the time to help enhance the horror elements of the story. McCarthyism and the Korean War added fuel to the notion of Americans stalked by a force which was single of mind and "devoid of morality." But in the end, it is American soldiers and scientists who triumph over the evil force - or the monster in the case of this film. Even today, this is considered one of the best of the genre.

Film review by Jeff Flugel. June 2013

There's not a lot new or particularly insightful I can offer when it comes to discussing the seminal sci-fi flick, The Thing from Another World that hasn't been written about ad naseum elsewhere. One of the most famous and influential of all 1950s creature features, it kicked off more than a decade of alien invasion and bug-eyed monster movie mayhem, inspired a host of future filmmakers (one of whom, John Carpenter, would go on to direct his own version of the story in 1982), and remains one of the best-written and engaging films of its kind.

Loosely (and I do mean loosely) adapted from John W. Campbell's novella, "Who Goes There?," The Thing is legendary director Howard Hawks' lone foray into the science fiction/ horror genres, but it fits comfortably into his filmography, featuring as it does Hawks' favorite themes: a group of tough professionals doing their job with ease, good-humored banter and practiced finesse; a bit of romance with a gutsy dame who can easily hold her own with the boys; and lots of overlapping, razor-sharp dialogue. Featuring a script by Charles Lederer and an uncredited Ben Hecht, The Thing is easily the most spryly written and funniest of all 50s monster movies. In fact, it's this sharpness in the scripting, and the extremely likeable ensemble cast of characters, rather than the now-familiar story and somewhat unimaginative monster design, that makes the film still feel fresh and modern to this day.

There's likely few people out there reading this who don't know the story of The Thing like the back of their hand, but here goes...When an unidentified aircraft crashes close to a remote research station near the North Pole, Captain Pat Hendry (Kenneth Tobey, in the role of his career) and his squad are dispatched there to investigate. Dr. Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) heads the scientific contingent there, and he informs Hendry that he thinks the downed craft is possibly "not of this earth." A joint team of soldiers and scientists head out to the crash site and find an actual, honest-to-goodness flying saucer lying buried under the ice.

The spaceship is destroyed while the men try to melt the ice around it with thermite bombs, but they find a lone, 8-foot-tall extraterrestrial occupant frozen nearby and bring the body back to the outpost in a block of ice. Dr. Carrington and his crew of eggheads want to study the thing, but Hendry is adamant that it should be kept as is until he gets word from his superior in Anchorage, General Fogerty. It wouldn't be a monster movie without something going pear-shaped, of course, and before you know it, a careless mistake results in the creature being thawed out of his iceberg coffin and going on a bit of a rampage, taking out a number of sled dogs and a few unsuspecting scientists along the way. The rest of the film details the tense battle between the surviving humans and the coldly intelligent, remorseless alien invader, which seems virtually unkillable, impregnable to cold, bullets and fire...

The set-up for the film, and how everything eventually plays out, might seem overly familiarly nowadays, but in 1951, this was cutting-edge stuff, at least in cinemas. The Thing plays as a veritable blueprint of how to make a compelling "alien monster-on-the-loose" movie. Howard Hawks not being particularly well-versed, or even interested in, science fiction per se likely worked to its benefit, as he ended up making, as he so often did in his other films, what is first-and-foremost a well-oiled entertainment, rather than simply a genre exercise.

Typical of a Hawks film, The Thing is meticulously designed, composed and shot, but in such a way as to appear offhand. Hawks almost never went in for showy camera angles or flashy effects. His technique was nearly invisible; he just got on with telling the story, in the most straightforward, unfussy way. But this easy, seemingly effortless style was very carefully considered, by a shrewd and knowing mind. As Bill Warren, author of one of the best (and certainly most encyclopedic) books about 1950s sci-fi filmmaking, Keep Watching the Skies, notes in his detailed analysis of the film:

As most good movies do, The Thing works in two areas: sight and sound. The locale is a cramped, tunnel-like base; the men are confined within, the Thing can move freely outdoors in the cold. Compositions are often crowded, with more people in the shot than seems comfortable, reinforcing the idea of confinement After the Thing escapes, only the alien itself is seen standing and moving alone.

This feeling of a cold, hostile environment outside the base is constantly reinforced throughout the film, and a real tension mounts when, towards the climax, the highly intelligent Thing, itself immune to the subzero arctic conditions, turns off the compound's heating, knowing the humans inside will quickly die without it. (The freaky, otherworldly theremin-flavored music by Dimitri Tiomkin adds a lot to the eerie atmosphere here.)

As groundbreaking and well-structured as the plot of The Thing was (and is), what makes the film play so well today is the great script and the interaction of a bunch of seasoned character actors, who toss off both exposition and pithy bon mots in such a low-key, believable manner. This is a truly ensemble movie, and the fact that it doesn't feature any big name stars really adds to the overall effect; no one really hogs all the limelight or gets the lion's share of good lines. Hawks was a director who usually worked with the biggest names in the business, but, much as in the earlier Air Force, he was equally at home working with a cast of rock-solid character actors.

All this talk of Howard Hawks as director, when it's actually Christian Nyby who is credited with the job, has long been a source of speculation with fans of the film. Todd McCarthy, in his bio Howard Hawks: The Grey Fox of Hollywood, seems to clear the issue up once and for all (though really, after viewing enough Hawks films, the results speak for themselves):

The perennial question surrounding The Thing From Another World has always been, Who actually directed it, Christian Nyby or Howard Hawks? The sum of participants' responses make the answer quite clear. Putting it most bluntly, (associate producer) Ed Lasker said "Chris Nyby didn't direct a thing. One day Howard was late and Chris said,'Why don't we get started? I know what the shot should be.' And I said, 'No, Chris, I think we'll wait until Howard gets here." Ken Tobey testified, "Chris Nyby directed one scene. Howard Hawks was there, but he let Chris direct one scene. We all rushed into a room, eight or ten of us, and we practically knocked each other over. No one knew what to do." Dewey Martin, Robert Cornthwaite and Richard Keinen all agreed that Hawks was the director, and Bill Self said, "Chris Nyby was a very nice, decent fellow, but he wasn't Howard Hawks."

Nyby had been Hawks' editor on a number of films, and Hawks apparently decided to help his collaborator establish a name for himself by allowing him directorial credit on the film. This seemingly altruistic gesture didn't mean that Hawks wasn't involved in virtually every aspect of the making of the film, however, and ultimately, The Thing did little for Nyby's directing career, at least on the big screen (he did go on to a long and busy career directing for numerous television programs, however.)

Bill Self was told at the time that Hawks didn't take directing credit on The Thing because it was planned as a low-budget film, one in which RKO didn't have much confidence. But, as critics have been saying ever since it was released, The Thing is a Howard Hawks film in everything but name. The opening scene of various members of the team bantering is so distilled as to be a virtual parody of Hawksian overlapping dialogue. Even more than Only Angels Have Wings, the picture presents a pristine example of a group operating resourcefully in a hermetically sealed environment in which everything in the outside world represents a grave threat. (3)

In addition to all the masculine camaraderie and spooky goings-on, one of the best aspects of The Thing is the fun, charming little tease of a romance between Capt. Hendry and Nikki (top-billed Margaret Sheridan). Nikki works as Prof. Carrington's assistant and is not merely the requisite "babe" in the film. True to the Hawksian norm, she's no pushover when it comes to trading insults with the men, nor a shrinking violet when up to her neck in perilous situations. Unlike most actresses in 50s monster movies, she doesn't utter a single scream in The Thing

and in fact, it's her practical suggestion which gives Bob, Hendry's ever-resourceful crew chief (Dewey Martin), the notion of how to finally kill the monster. Lederer and Hecht's screenplay hints at the backstory to Nikki and Pat's relationship in humorous and oblique ways, and their flirtation amidst all the chaos adds sparkle to the film but never gets in the way of the pace of the story. One nice little throwaway exchange near the finale encapsulates their verbal give-and-take, as Nikki playfully pokes the temporarily-befuddled Hendry, as his men scurry about, setting Bob's plan in motion.

Nikki: Looks as if the situation's well in hand.

Hendry: I've given all the orders I'm gonna give.

Nikki: If I thought that were true, I'd ask you to marry me.

Sheridan, a former model signed to a 5-year contract by Hawks, is quite good here, but after The Thing her career never really caught fire and she retired from acting a few years later. The closest thing to a star turn in the film is Kenneth Tobey as Capt. Hendry. Tobey racked up an impressive number of credits throughout his nearly 50-year-long career, generally as gruff, competent military men or similar types, and he was always good value, though it's as Capt. Hendry in The Thing that he truly shines. He consistently humanizes the no-nonsense, take charge man of action Hendry by displaying an easygoing approach to command. Most of Hendry's men call him by his first name, and delight in ribbing him about his budding romance with Nikki, and he responds to all this joshing in kind. When things get hairy, Tobey's Hendry doesn't have to bark his orders; it's clear that, despite the friendly banter, his men hold him in high esteem and leap to do his bidding at a moment's notice.

Many of the other members of the cast, while none of them ever became household names, will likely be recognizable from countless other roles in both film and television. Hawks gave Dewey Martin co-star billing in The Big Sky a few years later. Robert Cornthwaite kept busy for decades on stage and television, as well as in supporting roles in films such as Monkey Business, Kiss Me Deadly and Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? John Dierkes (Dr. Chapman) and Douglas Spencer (Scotty) both had juicy roles in the western classic Shane, as well as many other movies too numerous to name. Sharp-eyed viewers will also recognize Eduard Franz, Paul Frees (he of the famous voice) and Groucho Marx's right-hand man on You Bet Your Life, George Fenneman, in pivotal roles. And of course we mustn't forget 6' 7" James Arness (years before becoming renowned as Marshall Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke) as the hulking Thing.

A quick note on the "remake": John Carpenter's The Thing (1982), a bleak, grisly and brilliant take on the story, was a box-office dud when first released, but has since attained well-deserved status as a modern classic. While most fans seem divided into two camps - those who love the more restrained, old-fashioned thrills of the original, and those who prefer the more visceral, paranoiac Carpenter version - I happen to treasure both films equally and revisit each of them often. The Carpenter version is by far the gutsier, unsettling one, emphasizing as it does the "trust no one," shape-shifting "the alien is one of us" scenario imagined by John W. Campbell, but the Hawks' film is the most fun, with a far more likeable array of characters, working together to defeat an implacable menace. Each has its own clear merits. I wouldn't want to do without either film, and frankly see no need to choose one over the other.

"Every one of you listening to my voice...tell the world. Tell this to everybody, wherever they are: Watch the skies. Everywhere. Keep looking. Keep watching the skies.”

Acting Credits

Margaret Sheridan - Nikki Nicholson

Kenneth Tobey - Captain Patrick Hendrey

Robert Cornthwaite - Professor Carrington

Dewey Martin - Crew Chief

Douglas Spencer - Ned "Scotty" Scott

Eduard Franz - Dr Stern

Robert Nichols - Lieutenant Ken Erickson

William Self - Colonel Barnes

Sally Creighton - Mrs Chapman

John Dierkes - Dr. Chapman

James R. Young - Lieutenant Eddie Dykes

Norbert Schiller - Dr. Laurenz

William Neff - Olson

Allan Ray - Officer

Lee Tung Foo - Cook

Edmund Breon - Dr. Ambrose

George Fenneman - Dr. Redding

Tom Steele - Stuntman

James Arness - The Thing

Billy Curtis - The Thing While Shrinking

 

The Thing from Another World 1951

Watch the skies, everywhere! Keep looking. Keep watching the skies!

—Ned “Scotty” Scott

 

www.popscreen.com/v/7aMWr/The-Thing-from-Another-World Full Feature

www.youtube.com/v/T5xcVxkTZzM Trailer

This is one of the major classics of 50s sci fi movies. Released in April of 1951, it was the first full-length film to feature a flying saucer from outer space, which carried a hostile alien. The budget and the effects are typical B-grade stuff, but the acting and pacing are well above the usual B levels. Kenneth Toby and Margaret Sheriden star. James Arness (more known for his westerns) plays The Thing.

Howard Hawks' early foray into the science fiction genre took advantage of the anti-communist feelings of the time to help enhance the horror elements of the story. McCarthyism and the Korean War added fuel to the notion of Americans stalked by a force which was single of mind and "devoid of morality." But in the end, it is American soldiers and scientists who triumph over the evil force - or the monster in the case of this film. Even today, this is considered one of the best of the genre.

Film review by Jeff Flugel. June 2013

There's not a lot new or particularly insightful I can offer when it comes to discussing the seminal sci-fi flick, The Thing from Another World that hasn't been written about ad naseum elsewhere. One of the most famous and influential of all 1950s creature features, it kicked off more than a decade of alien invasion and bug-eyed monster movie mayhem, inspired a host of future filmmakers (one of whom, John Carpenter, would go on to direct his own version of the story in 1982), and remains one of the best-written and engaging films of its kind.

Loosely (and I do mean loosely) adapted from John W. Campbell's novella, "Who Goes There?," The Thing is legendary director Howard Hawks' lone foray into the science fiction/ horror genres, but it fits comfortably into his filmography, featuring as it does Hawks' favorite themes: a group of tough professionals doing their job with ease, good-humored banter and practiced finesse; a bit of romance with a gutsy dame who can easily hold her own with the boys; and lots of overlapping, razor-sharp dialogue. Featuring a script by Charles Lederer and an uncredited Ben Hecht, The Thing is easily the most spryly written and funniest of all 50s monster movies. In fact, it's this sharpness in the scripting, and the extremely likeable ensemble cast of characters, rather than the now-familiar story and somewhat unimaginative monster design, that makes the film still feel fresh and modern to this day.

There's likely few people out there reading this who don't know the story of The Thing like the back of their hand, but here goes...When an unidentified aircraft crashes close to a remote research station near the North Pole, Captain Pat Hendry (Kenneth Tobey, in the role of his career) and his squad are dispatched there to investigate. Dr. Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) heads the scientific contingent there, and he informs Hendry that he thinks the downed craft is possibly "not of this earth." A joint team of soldiers and scientists head out to the crash site and find an actual, honest-to-goodness flying saucer lying buried under the ice.

The spaceship is destroyed while the men try to melt the ice around it with thermite bombs, but they find a lone, 8-foot-tall extraterrestrial occupant frozen nearby and bring the body back to the outpost in a block of ice. Dr. Carrington and his crew of eggheads want to study the thing, but Hendry is adamant that it should be kept as is until he gets word from his superior in Anchorage, General Fogerty. It wouldn't be a monster movie without something going pear-shaped, of course, and before you know it, a careless mistake results in the creature being thawed out of his iceberg coffin and going on a bit of a rampage, taking out a number of sled dogs and a few unsuspecting scientists along the way. The rest of the film details the tense battle between the surviving humans and the coldly intelligent, remorseless alien invader, which seems virtually unkillable, impregnable to cold, bullets and fire...

The set-up for the film, and how everything eventually plays out, might seem overly familiarly nowadays, but in 1951, this was cutting-edge stuff, at least in cinemas. The Thing plays as a veritable blueprint of how to make a compelling "alien monster-on-the-loose" movie. Howard Hawks not being particularly well-versed, or even interested in, science fiction per se likely worked to its benefit, as he ended up making, as he so often did in his other films, what is first-and-foremost a well-oiled entertainment, rather than simply a genre exercise.

Typical of a Hawks film, The Thing is meticulously designed, composed and shot, but in such a way as to appear offhand. Hawks almost never went in for showy camera angles or flashy effects. His technique was nearly invisible; he just got on with telling the story, in the most straightforward, unfussy way. But this easy, seemingly effortless style was very carefully considered, by a shrewd and knowing mind. As Bill Warren, author of one of the best (and certainly most encyclopedic) books about 1950s sci-fi filmmaking, Keep Watching the Skies, notes in his detailed analysis of the film:

As most good movies do, The Thing works in two areas: sight and sound. The locale is a cramped, tunnel-like base; the men are confined within, the Thing can move freely outdoors in the cold. Compositions are often crowded, with more people in the shot than seems comfortable, reinforcing the idea of confinement After the Thing escapes, only the alien itself is seen standing and moving alone.

This feeling of a cold, hostile environment outside the base is constantly reinforced throughout the film, and a real tension mounts when, towards the climax, the highly intelligent Thing, itself immune to the subzero arctic conditions, turns off the compound's heating, knowing the humans inside will quickly die without it. (The freaky, otherworldly theremin-flavored music by Dimitri Tiomkin adds a lot to the eerie atmosphere here.)

As groundbreaking and well-structured as the plot of The Thing was (and is), what makes the film play so well today is the great script and the interaction of a bunch of seasoned character actors, who toss off both exposition and pithy bon mots in such a low-key, believable manner. This is a truly ensemble movie, and the fact that it doesn't feature any big name stars really adds to the overall effect; no one really hogs all the limelight or gets the lion's share of good lines. Hawks was a director who usually worked with the biggest names in the business, but, much as in the earlier Air Force, he was equally at home working with a cast of rock-solid character actors.

All this talk of Howard Hawks as director, when it's actually Christian Nyby who is credited with the job, has long been a source of speculation with fans of the film. Todd McCarthy, in his bio Howard Hawks: The Grey Fox of Hollywood, seems to clear the issue up once and for all (though really, after viewing enough Hawks films, the results speak for themselves):

The perennial question surrounding The Thing From Another World has always been, Who actually directed it, Christian Nyby or Howard Hawks? The sum of participants' responses make the answer quite clear. Putting it most bluntly, (associate producer) Ed Lasker said "Chris Nyby didn't direct a thing. One day Howard was late and Chris said,'Why don't we get started? I know what the shot should be.' And I said, 'No, Chris, I think we'll wait until Howard gets here." Ken Tobey testified, "Chris Nyby directed one scene. Howard Hawks was there, but he let Chris direct one scene. We all rushed into a room, eight or ten of us, and we practically knocked each other over. No one knew what to do." Dewey Martin, Robert Cornthwaite and Richard Keinen all agreed that Hawks was the director, and Bill Self said, "Chris Nyby was a very nice, decent fellow, but he wasn't Howard Hawks."

Nyby had been Hawks' editor on a number of films, and Hawks apparently decided to help his collaborator establish a name for himself by allowing him directorial credit on the film. This seemingly altruistic gesture didn't mean that Hawks wasn't involved in virtually every aspect of the making of the film, however, and ultimately, The Thing did little for Nyby's directing career, at least on the big screen (he did go on to a long and busy career directing for numerous television programs, however.)

Bill Self was told at the time that Hawks didn't take directing credit on The Thing because it was planned as a low-budget film, one in which RKO didn't have much confidence. But, as critics have been saying ever since it was released, The Thing is a Howard Hawks film in everything but name. The opening scene of various members of the team bantering is so distilled as to be a virtual parody of Hawksian overlapping dialogue. Even more than Only Angels Have Wings, the picture presents a pristine example of a group operating resourcefully in a hermetically sealed environment in which everything in the outside world represents a grave threat. (3)

In addition to all the masculine camaraderie and spooky goings-on, one of the best aspects of The Thing is the fun, charming little tease of a romance between Capt. Hendry and Nikki (top-billed Margaret Sheridan). Nikki works as Prof. Carrington's assistant and is not merely the requisite "babe" in the film. True to the Hawksian norm, she's no pushover when it comes to trading insults with the men, nor a shrinking violet when up to her neck in perilous situations. Unlike most actresses in 50s monster movies, she doesn't utter a single scream in The Thing

and in fact, it's her practical suggestion which gives Bob, Hendry's ever-resourceful crew chief (Dewey Martin), the notion of how to finally kill the monster. Lederer and Hecht's screenplay hints at the backstory to Nikki and Pat's relationship in humorous and oblique ways, and their flirtation amidst all the chaos adds sparkle to the film but never gets in the way of the pace of the story. One nice little throwaway exchange near the finale encapsulates their verbal give-and-take, as Nikki playfully pokes the temporarily-befuddled Hendry, as his men scurry about, setting Bob's plan in motion.

Nikki: Looks as if the situation's well in hand.

Hendry: I've given all the orders I'm gonna give.

Nikki: If I thought that were true, I'd ask you to marry me.

Sheridan, a former model signed to a 5-year contract by Hawks, is quite good here, but after The Thing her career never really caught fire and she retired from acting a few years later. The closest thing to a star turn in the film is Kenneth Tobey as Capt. Hendry. Tobey racked up an impressive number of credits throughout his nearly 50-year-long career, generally as gruff, competent military men or similar types, and he was always good value, though it's as Capt. Hendry in The Thing that he truly shines. He consistently humanizes the no-nonsense, take charge man of action Hendry by displaying an easygoing approach to command. Most of Hendry's men call him by his first name, and delight in ribbing him about his budding romance with Nikki, and he responds to all this joshing in kind. When things get hairy, Tobey's Hendry doesn't have to bark his orders; it's clear that, despite the friendly banter, his men hold him in high esteem and leap to do his bidding at a moment's notice.

Many of the other members of the cast, while none of them ever became household names, will likely be recognizable from countless other roles in both film and television. Hawks gave Dewey Martin co-star billing in The Big Sky a few years later. Robert Cornthwaite kept busy for decades on stage and television, as well as in supporting roles in films such as Monkey Business, Kiss Me Deadly and Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? John Dierkes (Dr. Chapman) and Douglas Spencer (Scotty) both had juicy roles in the western classic Shane, as well as many other movies too numerous to name. Sharp-eyed viewers will also recognize Eduard Franz, Paul Frees (he of the famous voice) and Groucho Marx's right-hand man on You Bet Your Life, George Fenneman, in pivotal roles. And of course we mustn't forget 6' 7" James Arness (years before becoming renowned as Marshall Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke) as the hulking Thing.

A quick note on the "remake": John Carpenter's The Thing (1982), a bleak, grisly and brilliant take on the story, was a box-office dud when first released, but has since attained well-deserved status as a modern classic. While most fans seem divided into two camps - those who love the more restrained, old-fashioned thrills of the original, and those who prefer the more visceral, paranoiac Carpenter version - I happen to treasure both films equally and revisit each of them often. The Carpenter version is by far the gutsier, unsettling one, emphasizing as it does the "trust no one," shape-shifting "the alien is one of us" scenario imagined by John W. Campbell, but the Hawks' film is the most fun, with a far more likeable array of characters, working together to defeat an implacable menace. Each has its own clear merits. I wouldn't want to do without either film, and frankly see no need to choose one over the other.

"Every one of you listening to my voice...tell the world. Tell this to everybody, wherever they are: Watch the skies. Everywhere. Keep looking. Keep watching the skies.”

Acting Credits

Margaret Sheridan - Nikki Nicholson

Kenneth Tobey - Captain Patrick Hendrey

Robert Cornthwaite - Professor Carrington

Dewey Martin - Crew Chief

Douglas Spencer - Ned "Scotty" Scott

Eduard Franz - Dr Stern

Robert Nichols - Lieutenant Ken Erickson

William Self - Colonel Barnes

Sally Creighton - Mrs Chapman

John Dierkes - Dr. Chapman

James R. Young - Lieutenant Eddie Dykes

Norbert Schiller - Dr. Laurenz

William Neff - Olson

Allan Ray - Officer

Lee Tung Foo - Cook

Edmund Breon - Dr. Ambrose

George Fenneman - Dr. Redding

Tom Steele - Stuntman

James Arness - The Thing

Billy Curtis - The Thing While Shrinking

 

German postcard by Ross Verlag, Berlin. Photo: Zelnik-Film. Wilhelm Dieterle in Die Weber/The Weavers (Friedrich Zelnik, 1927).

 

Wilhelm Dieterle (later: William Dieterle) (1893-1972) was a German actor and director who started out in Weimar cinema, before becoming a well-known Hollywood director.

 

Wilhelm Dieterle was born in 1893 in Ludwigshafen am Rhein and of humble descendants, took acting lessons at a young age, and began his career as a stage actor in 1911 at the theatre in Arnsberg, which also included work as an extra, singer, dancer and stagehand; hence his white gloves, which he continued to wear in Hollywood. In 1912-1914, he worked at theatres in Heilbronn, Plauen and Bad Dürkheim, and in 1914-1917 in Mainz (under the direction of future film director Ludwig Berger). In 1917-1918, he played in Zürich, in 1918-1919 in Berlin and 1919-1920 in Munich. He had his breakthrough in 1920-1923 with Max Reinhardt’s Deutschen Theater in Berlin. In this era, he mainly worked there, next to sidesteps with the companies of Leopold Jessner, Viktor Barnowsky and Karlheinz Martin. In 1924 Dieterle had his own theatre company, but it was short-lived. After an incidental film performance in the Schiller adaptation Fiesko (Phil Jutzi, 1913), Dieterle’s acting became numerous from 1919 on, all through the 1920s. Dieterle appeared in major films of the Weimar era. He was Henny Porten’s ill-fated fiancé and Fritz Kortner’s rival in love in Leopold Jessner’s classic Kammerspiel Hintertreppe/ Backstairs (1921). Actually, in those years Dieterle was often paired with Porten, before Hintertreppe in Die Geier-Wally (E.A. Dupont, 1921), and afterwards in Frauenopfer (Karl Grune, 1921). Dieterle also was the poet, the Persian baker and the Russian prince in the Harun al Raschid and Iwan the Terrible sequences, in Paul Leni’s Wachsfigurenkabinett/Waxworks (1923/1924). He was Henny Porten’s young husband in the internationally popular Mutter und Kind (Carl Froehlich, 1924). And he was Gretchen’s brother Valentin in F.W. Murnau’s Faust (1926), killed by Mephisto.

 

From 1923 on, Wilhelm Dieterle directed his first films, in which he always had the lead; starting with the Heimat-film Der Mensch am Wege (1923), in which Marlene Dietrich had one of her first roles. The major example of his output was Geschlecht in Fesseln/Sex in Chains (1928), one of the films produced by his own company Charha (1927), which he ran with his wife, scriptwriter and actress Charlotte Hagenbruch. A man (Dieterle) accidentally kills another who tried to harass his wife (Mary Johnson) and ends up in jail, where he is seduced by an inmate, while his wife gives in to another man as well. After his liberation, the couple feels guilty and commits suicide. In particular, between 1928 and 1930, Dieterle directed many films for his own company, in which he starred and for which his wife signed the script, such as the melodrama Die Heilige und ihr Narr (1928), with Lien Deyers and Gina Manès, and the mountain film Das Schweigen im Walde (1929). Dieterle’s work in Germany was internationally so successful, that he was offered a contract by Warner Bros. in 1930 to make German versions of American sound films for the German department of Warner’s subsidiary First National, Deutsche First National Pictures GmbH (Defina). An example is Die heilige Flamme (1930/31), co-directed with Berthold Viertel and starring Salka Viertel. In the States, Dieterle stopped acting and focused on directing. As Dieterle was Jewish, he was lucky to get away from the slowly worsening situation in Germany; three years later, Hitler would take over and ban all Jews from the film industry.

 

In the US, William Dieterle quickly adapted and was permitted to start directing his own films. With Michael Curtiz, Dieterle soon became the regular Warner film director, working in every possible genre, such as comedies with Kay Francis and the melodrama The Crash with Ruth Chatterton. Together with Max Reinhardt, with whom Dieterle had played in Germany, he adapted Midsummer Night’s Dream for cinema, but the result failed to convince the critics. In the early 1930s, Dieterle was highly productive with Warner, turning out 6 films per year in 1933 and 1934. He probably had to: in 1933 he had received a seven-year contract from Warner. From the mid-1930s on Dieterle became well-known for his bio-pics. The Story of Louis Pasteur (1936) won him an Oscar nomination while The Life of Emile Zola (1937) got him the Oscar; in both films, Paul Muni played the lead. Other memorable titles were the Mark Twain adaptation of The Prince and the Pauper (1937) with Errol Flynn, Juarez (1939) with Bette Davis as the empress Carlotta, and The Hunchback of the Notre Dame (1939) with Charles Laughton as Quasimodo. In 1937 Warner offered Dieterle, by now an American citizen, the opportunity to study Russian production methods for four months at Lenfilm in Moscow. In 1938-1940 he taught theatre lessons at the Max Reinhardt Workshop of Stage, Screen, and Radio, and in 1939 he co-founded the antifascist cultural magazine The Hollywood Tribune and the English-spoken exile theatre company The Continental Players, directed by Jessner. After his contract with Warner expired, Dieterle broke with them and tried his own film company at RKO. When that failed, he mainly made films with MGM, Selznick, and Paramount.

 

During the 1940s, William Dieterle focused on romantic, lush melodramas such as the Technicolor exotic tale Kismet (1944) with Ronald Colman and Marlene Dietrich, and Love Letters (1945) and Portrait of Jennie (1948), both with Joseph Cotten and Jennifer Jones. Love Letters became an enormous success and earned Jones an Oscar. In the 1950s, Dieterle’s career declined because of McCarthyism. In 1950 he went to Italy to shoot Vulcano, the rival to Rossellini’s Stromboli. When Anna Magnani knew that her former lover planned to make a film with his new girlfriend Ingrid Bergman on an Italian island near Sicily, Magnani pushed a Sicilian producer to make a rivalling film that had to come out before Rossellini’s. The affair was known as ‘la Guerra dei vulcani’, also referring to Magnani’s tempestuous character. Around the same time, Dieterle also shot in Italy the highly romantic September Affair (1950), with Joseph Cotten and Joan Fontaine, about a married man and a woman who start an affair in Naples and Capri. After they decide to split, they are believed to have been killed in a plane crash and start a second life, but responsibility calls. Returned to Hollywood, Dieterle made crime films like Dark City (1950) with Charlton Heston, Boots Malone (1952) and The Turning Point (1952), both with William Holden. but also epic melodramas such as Salome (1953), starring Rita Hayworth and partly shot in Jerusalem, and Omar Khayyam (1956), starring Cornel Wilde and shot in the Bronson Canyon. In 1958 Dieterle returned to Germany and worked till his death as a stage director for various companies in Germany, Switzerland, and Austria; he also worked for German (Sender Freies Berlin) and Austrian television and (co-)directed two features: a remake of Joe May’s classic Herrin der Welt (1959/60) and Die Fastnachtsbeichte (1960). From 1961 to 1965, he was the manager of the theatre at Bad Hersfeld. After his failed attempt to make a comeback in Hollywood with The Confession (1964), Dieterle’s last film direction, he remained in Germany, working on the stage. Wilhelm Dieterle died in 1972 and was buried in Munich. From 1921 on, Dieterle was married to Charlotte Hagenbruch; after she died in 1968, his second wife was Elisabeth Daum.

 

Sources: Wikipedia (English and German), Filmportal.de, Cinegraph, and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

The Thing from Another World 1951

Watch the skies, everywhere! Keep looking. Keep watching the skies!

—Ned “Scotty” Scott

 

www.popscreen.com/v/7aMWr/The-Thing-from-Another-World Full Feature

www.youtube.com/v/T5xcVxkTZzM Trailer

This is one of the major classics of 50s sci fi movies. Released in April of 1951, it was the first full-length film to feature a flying saucer from outer space, which carried a hostile alien. The budget and the effects are typical B-grade stuff, but the acting and pacing are well above the usual B levels. Kenneth Toby and Margaret Sheriden star. James Arness (more known for his westerns) plays The Thing.

Howard Hawks' early foray into the science fiction genre took advantage of the anti-communist feelings of the time to help enhance the horror elements of the story. McCarthyism and the Korean War added fuel to the notion of Americans stalked by a force which was single of mind and "devoid of morality." But in the end, it is American soldiers and scientists who triumph over the evil force - or the monster in the case of this film. Even today, this is considered one of the best of the genre.

Film review by Jeff Flugel. June 2013

There's not a lot new or particularly insightful I can offer when it comes to discussing the seminal sci-fi flick, The Thing from Another World that hasn't been written about ad naseum elsewhere. One of the most famous and influential of all 1950s creature features, it kicked off more than a decade of alien invasion and bug-eyed monster movie mayhem, inspired a host of future filmmakers (one of whom, John Carpenter, would go on to direct his own version of the story in 1982), and remains one of the best-written and engaging films of its kind.

Loosely (and I do mean loosely) adapted from John W. Campbell's novella, "Who Goes There?," The Thing is legendary director Howard Hawks' lone foray into the science fiction/ horror genres, but it fits comfortably into his filmography, featuring as it does Hawks' favorite themes: a group of tough professionals doing their job with ease, good-humored banter and practiced finesse; a bit of romance with a gutsy dame who can easily hold her own with the boys; and lots of overlapping, razor-sharp dialogue. Featuring a script by Charles Lederer and an uncredited Ben Hecht, The Thing is easily the most spryly written and funniest of all 50s monster movies. In fact, it's this sharpness in the scripting, and the extremely likeable ensemble cast of characters, rather than the now-familiar story and somewhat unimaginative monster design, that makes the film still feel fresh and modern to this day.

There's likely few people out there reading this who don't know the story of The Thing like the back of their hand, but here goes...When an unidentified aircraft crashes close to a remote research station near the North Pole, Captain Pat Hendry (Kenneth Tobey, in the role of his career) and his squad are dispatched there to investigate. Dr. Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) heads the scientific contingent there, and he informs Hendry that he thinks the downed craft is possibly "not of this earth." A joint team of soldiers and scientists head out to the crash site and find an actual, honest-to-goodness flying saucer lying buried under the ice.

The spaceship is destroyed while the men try to melt the ice around it with thermite bombs, but they find a lone, 8-foot-tall extraterrestrial occupant frozen nearby and bring the body back to the outpost in a block of ice. Dr. Carrington and his crew of eggheads want to study the thing, but Hendry is adamant that it should be kept as is until he gets word from his superior in Anchorage, General Fogerty. It wouldn't be a monster movie without something going pear-shaped, of course, and before you know it, a careless mistake results in the creature being thawed out of his iceberg coffin and going on a bit of a rampage, taking out a number of sled dogs and a few unsuspecting scientists along the way. The rest of the film details the tense battle between the surviving humans and the coldly intelligent, remorseless alien invader, which seems virtually unkillable, impregnable to cold, bullets and fire...

The set-up for the film, and how everything eventually plays out, might seem overly familiarly nowadays, but in 1951, this was cutting-edge stuff, at least in cinemas. The Thing plays as a veritable blueprint of how to make a compelling "alien monster-on-the-loose" movie. Howard Hawks not being particularly well-versed, or even interested in, science fiction per se likely worked to its benefit, as he ended up making, as he so often did in his other films, what is first-and-foremost a well-oiled entertainment, rather than simply a genre exercise.

Typical of a Hawks film, The Thing is meticulously designed, composed and shot, but in such a way as to appear offhand. Hawks almost never went in for showy camera angles or flashy effects. His technique was nearly invisible; he just got on with telling the story, in the most straightforward, unfussy way. But this easy, seemingly effortless style was very carefully considered, by a shrewd and knowing mind. As Bill Warren, author of one of the best (and certainly most encyclopedic) books about 1950s sci-fi filmmaking, Keep Watching the Skies, notes in his detailed analysis of the film:

As most good movies do, The Thing works in two areas: sight and sound. The locale is a cramped, tunnel-like base; the men are confined within, the Thing can move freely outdoors in the cold. Compositions are often crowded, with more people in the shot than seems comfortable, reinforcing the idea of confinement After the Thing escapes, only the alien itself is seen standing and moving alone.

This feeling of a cold, hostile environment outside the base is constantly reinforced throughout the film, and a real tension mounts when, towards the climax, the highly intelligent Thing, itself immune to the subzero arctic conditions, turns off the compound's heating, knowing the humans inside will quickly die without it. (The freaky, otherworldly theremin-flavored music by Dimitri Tiomkin adds a lot to the eerie atmosphere here.)

As groundbreaking and well-structured as the plot of The Thing was (and is), what makes the film play so well today is the great script and the interaction of a bunch of seasoned character actors, who toss off both exposition and pithy bon mots in such a low-key, believable manner. This is a truly ensemble movie, and the fact that it doesn't feature any big name stars really adds to the overall effect; no one really hogs all the limelight or gets the lion's share of good lines. Hawks was a director who usually worked with the biggest names in the business, but, much as in the earlier Air Force, he was equally at home working with a cast of rock-solid character actors.

All this talk of Howard Hawks as director, when it's actually Christian Nyby who is credited with the job, has long been a source of speculation with fans of the film. Todd McCarthy, in his bio Howard Hawks: The Grey Fox of Hollywood, seems to clear the issue up once and for all (though really, after viewing enough Hawks films, the results speak for themselves):

The perennial question surrounding The Thing From Another World has always been, Who actually directed it, Christian Nyby or Howard Hawks? The sum of participants' responses make the answer quite clear. Putting it most bluntly, (associate producer) Ed Lasker said "Chris Nyby didn't direct a thing. One day Howard was late and Chris said,'Why don't we get started? I know what the shot should be.' And I said, 'No, Chris, I think we'll wait until Howard gets here." Ken Tobey testified, "Chris Nyby directed one scene. Howard Hawks was there, but he let Chris direct one scene. We all rushed into a room, eight or ten of us, and we practically knocked each other over. No one knew what to do." Dewey Martin, Robert Cornthwaite and Richard Keinen all agreed that Hawks was the director, and Bill Self said, "Chris Nyby was a very nice, decent fellow, but he wasn't Howard Hawks."

Nyby had been Hawks' editor on a number of films, and Hawks apparently decided to help his collaborator establish a name for himself by allowing him directorial credit on the film. This seemingly altruistic gesture didn't mean that Hawks wasn't involved in virtually every aspect of the making of the film, however, and ultimately, The Thing did little for Nyby's directing career, at least on the big screen (he did go on to a long and busy career directing for numerous television programs, however.)

Bill Self was told at the time that Hawks didn't take directing credit on The Thing because it was planned as a low-budget film, one in which RKO didn't have much confidence. But, as critics have been saying ever since it was released, The Thing is a Howard Hawks film in everything but name. The opening scene of various members of the team bantering is so distilled as to be a virtual parody of Hawksian overlapping dialogue. Even more than Only Angels Have Wings, the picture presents a pristine example of a group operating resourcefully in a hermetically sealed environment in which everything in the outside world represents a grave threat. (3)

In addition to all the masculine camaraderie and spooky goings-on, one of the best aspects of The Thing is the fun, charming little tease of a romance between Capt. Hendry and Nikki (top-billed Margaret Sheridan). Nikki works as Prof. Carrington's assistant and is not merely the requisite "babe" in the film. True to the Hawksian norm, she's no pushover when it comes to trading insults with the men, nor a shrinking violet when up to her neck in perilous situations. Unlike most actresses in 50s monster movies, she doesn't utter a single scream in The Thing

and in fact, it's her practical suggestion which gives Bob, Hendry's ever-resourceful crew chief (Dewey Martin), the notion of how to finally kill the monster. Lederer and Hecht's screenplay hints at the backstory to Nikki and Pat's relationship in humorous and oblique ways, and their flirtation amidst all the chaos adds sparkle to the film but never gets in the way of the pace of the story. One nice little throwaway exchange near the finale encapsulates their verbal give-and-take, as Nikki playfully pokes the temporarily-befuddled Hendry, as his men scurry about, setting Bob's plan in motion.

Nikki: Looks as if the situation's well in hand.

Hendry: I've given all the orders I'm gonna give.

Nikki: If I thought that were true, I'd ask you to marry me.

Sheridan, a former model signed to a 5-year contract by Hawks, is quite good here, but after The Thing her career never really caught fire and she retired from acting a few years later. The closest thing to a star turn in the film is Kenneth Tobey as Capt. Hendry. Tobey racked up an impressive number of credits throughout his nearly 50-year-long career, generally as gruff, competent military men or similar types, and he was always good value, though it's as Capt. Hendry in The Thing that he truly shines. He consistently humanizes the no-nonsense, take charge man of action Hendry by displaying an easygoing approach to command. Most of Hendry's men call him by his first name, and delight in ribbing him about his budding romance with Nikki, and he responds to all this joshing in kind. When things get hairy, Tobey's Hendry doesn't have to bark his orders; it's clear that, despite the friendly banter, his men hold him in high esteem and leap to do his bidding at a moment's notice.

Many of the other members of the cast, while none of them ever became household names, will likely be recognizable from countless other roles in both film and television. Hawks gave Dewey Martin co-star billing in The Big Sky a few years later. Robert Cornthwaite kept busy for decades on stage and television, as well as in supporting roles in films such as Monkey Business, Kiss Me Deadly and Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? John Dierkes (Dr. Chapman) and Douglas Spencer (Scotty) both had juicy roles in the western classic Shane, as well as many other movies too numerous to name. Sharp-eyed viewers will also recognize Eduard Franz, Paul Frees (he of the famous voice) and Groucho Marx's right-hand man on You Bet Your Life, George Fenneman, in pivotal roles. And of course we mustn't forget 6' 7" James Arness (years before becoming renowned as Marshall Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke) as the hulking Thing.

A quick note on the "remake": John Carpenter's The Thing (1982), a bleak, grisly and brilliant take on the story, was a box-office dud when first released, but has since attained well-deserved status as a modern classic. While most fans seem divided into two camps - those who love the more restrained, old-fashioned thrills of the original, and those who prefer the more visceral, paranoiac Carpenter version - I happen to treasure both films equally and revisit each of them often. The Carpenter version is by far the gutsier, unsettling one, emphasizing as it does the "trust no one," shape-shifting "the alien is one of us" scenario imagined by John W. Campbell, but the Hawks' film is the most fun, with a far more likeable array of characters, working together to defeat an implacable menace. Each has its own clear merits. I wouldn't want to do without either film, and frankly see no need to choose one over the other.

"Every one of you listening to my voice...tell the world. Tell this to everybody, wherever they are: Watch the skies. Everywhere. Keep looking. Keep watching the skies.”

Acting Credits

Margaret Sheridan - Nikki Nicholson

Kenneth Tobey - Captain Patrick Hendrey

Robert Cornthwaite - Professor Carrington

Dewey Martin - Crew Chief

Douglas Spencer - Ned "Scotty" Scott

Eduard Franz - Dr Stern

Robert Nichols - Lieutenant Ken Erickson

William Self - Colonel Barnes

Sally Creighton - Mrs Chapman

John Dierkes - Dr. Chapman

James R. Young - Lieutenant Eddie Dykes

Norbert Schiller - Dr. Laurenz

William Neff - Olson

Allan Ray - Officer

Lee Tung Foo - Cook

Edmund Breon - Dr. Ambrose

George Fenneman - Dr. Redding

Tom Steele - Stuntman

James Arness - The Thing

Billy Curtis - The Thing While Shrinking

 

The Thing from Another World 1951

Watch the skies, everywhere! Keep looking. Keep watching the skies!

—Ned “Scotty” Scott

 

www.popscreen.com/v/7aMWr/The-Thing-from-Another-World Full Feature

www.youtube.com/v/T5xcVxkTZzM Trailer

This is one of the major classics of 50s sci fi movies. Released in April of 1951, it was the first full-length film to feature a flying saucer from outer space, which carried a hostile alien. The budget and the effects are typical B-grade stuff, but the acting and pacing are well above the usual B levels. Kenneth Toby and Margaret Sheriden star. James Arness (more known for his westerns) plays The Thing.

Howard Hawks' early foray into the science fiction genre took advantage of the anti-communist feelings of the time to help enhance the horror elements of the story. McCarthyism and the Korean War added fuel to the notion of Americans stalked by a force which was single of mind and "devoid of morality." But in the end, it is American soldiers and scientists who triumph over the evil force - or the monster in the case of this film. Even today, this is considered one of the best of the genre.

Film review by Jeff Flugel. June 2013

There's not a lot new or particularly insightful I can offer when it comes to discussing the seminal sci-fi flick, The Thing from Another World that hasn't been written about ad naseum elsewhere. One of the most famous and influential of all 1950s creature features, it kicked off more than a decade of alien invasion and bug-eyed monster movie mayhem, inspired a host of future filmmakers (one of whom, John Carpenter, would go on to direct his own version of the story in 1982), and remains one of the best-written and engaging films of its kind.

Loosely (and I do mean loosely) adapted from John W. Campbell's novella, "Who Goes There?," The Thing is legendary director Howard Hawks' lone foray into the science fiction/ horror genres, but it fits comfortably into his filmography, featuring as it does Hawks' favorite themes: a group of tough professionals doing their job with ease, good-humored banter and practiced finesse; a bit of romance with a gutsy dame who can easily hold her own with the boys; and lots of overlapping, razor-sharp dialogue. Featuring a script by Charles Lederer and an uncredited Ben Hecht, The Thing is easily the most spryly written and funniest of all 50s monster movies. In fact, it's this sharpness in the scripting, and the extremely likeable ensemble cast of characters, rather than the now-familiar story and somewhat unimaginative monster design, that makes the film still feel fresh and modern to this day.

There's likely few people out there reading this who don't know the story of The Thing like the back of their hand, but here goes...When an unidentified aircraft crashes close to a remote research station near the North Pole, Captain Pat Hendry (Kenneth Tobey, in the role of his career) and his squad are dispatched there to investigate. Dr. Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) heads the scientific contingent there, and he informs Hendry that he thinks the downed craft is possibly "not of this earth." A joint team of soldiers and scientists head out to the crash site and find an actual, honest-to-goodness flying saucer lying buried under the ice.

The spaceship is destroyed while the men try to melt the ice around it with thermite bombs, but they find a lone, 8-foot-tall extraterrestrial occupant frozen nearby and bring the body back to the outpost in a block of ice. Dr. Carrington and his crew of eggheads want to study the thing, but Hendry is adamant that it should be kept as is until he gets word from his superior in Anchorage, General Fogerty. It wouldn't be a monster movie without something going pear-shaped, of course, and before you know it, a careless mistake results in the creature being thawed out of his iceberg coffin and going on a bit of a rampage, taking out a number of sled dogs and a few unsuspecting scientists along the way. The rest of the film details the tense battle between the surviving humans and the coldly intelligent, remorseless alien invader, which seems virtually unkillable, impregnable to cold, bullets and fire...

The set-up for the film, and how everything eventually plays out, might seem overly familiarly nowadays, but in 1951, this was cutting-edge stuff, at least in cinemas. The Thing plays as a veritable blueprint of how to make a compelling "alien monster-on-the-loose" movie. Howard Hawks not being particularly well-versed, or even interested in, science fiction per se likely worked to its benefit, as he ended up making, as he so often did in his other films, what is first-and-foremost a well-oiled entertainment, rather than simply a genre exercise.

Typical of a Hawks film, The Thing is meticulously designed, composed and shot, but in such a way as to appear offhand. Hawks almost never went in for showy camera angles or flashy effects. His technique was nearly invisible; he just got on with telling the story, in the most straightforward, unfussy way. But this easy, seemingly effortless style was very carefully considered, by a shrewd and knowing mind. As Bill Warren, author of one of the best (and certainly most encyclopedic) books about 1950s sci-fi filmmaking, Keep Watching the Skies, notes in his detailed analysis of the film:

As most good movies do, The Thing works in two areas: sight and sound. The locale is a cramped, tunnel-like base; the men are confined within, the Thing can move freely outdoors in the cold. Compositions are often crowded, with more people in the shot than seems comfortable, reinforcing the idea of confinement After the Thing escapes, only the alien itself is seen standing and moving alone.

This feeling of a cold, hostile environment outside the base is constantly reinforced throughout the film, and a real tension mounts when, towards the climax, the highly intelligent Thing, itself immune to the subzero arctic conditions, turns off the compound's heating, knowing the humans inside will quickly die without it. (The freaky, otherworldly theremin-flavored music by Dimitri Tiomkin adds a lot to the eerie atmosphere here.)

As groundbreaking and well-structured as the plot of The Thing was (and is), what makes the film play so well today is the great script and the interaction of a bunch of seasoned character actors, who toss off both exposition and pithy bon mots in such a low-key, believable manner. This is a truly ensemble movie, and the fact that it doesn't feature any big name stars really adds to the overall effect; no one really hogs all the limelight or gets the lion's share of good lines. Hawks was a director who usually worked with the biggest names in the business, but, much as in the earlier Air Force, he was equally at home working with a cast of rock-solid character actors.

All this talk of Howard Hawks as director, when it's actually Christian Nyby who is credited with the job, has long been a source of speculation with fans of the film. Todd McCarthy, in his bio Howard Hawks: The Grey Fox of Hollywood, seems to clear the issue up once and for all (though really, after viewing enough Hawks films, the results speak for themselves):

The perennial question surrounding The Thing From Another World has always been, Who actually directed it, Christian Nyby or Howard Hawks? The sum of participants' responses make the answer quite clear. Putting it most bluntly, (associate producer) Ed Lasker said "Chris Nyby didn't direct a thing. One day Howard was late and Chris said,'Why don't we get started? I know what the shot should be.' And I said, 'No, Chris, I think we'll wait until Howard gets here." Ken Tobey testified, "Chris Nyby directed one scene. Howard Hawks was there, but he let Chris direct one scene. We all rushed into a room, eight or ten of us, and we practically knocked each other over. No one knew what to do." Dewey Martin, Robert Cornthwaite and Richard Keinen all agreed that Hawks was the director, and Bill Self said, "Chris Nyby was a very nice, decent fellow, but he wasn't Howard Hawks."

Nyby had been Hawks' editor on a number of films, and Hawks apparently decided to help his collaborator establish a name for himself by allowing him directorial credit on the film. This seemingly altruistic gesture didn't mean that Hawks wasn't involved in virtually every aspect of the making of the film, however, and ultimately, The Thing did little for Nyby's directing career, at least on the big screen (he did go on to a long and busy career directing for numerous television programs, however.)

Bill Self was told at the time that Hawks didn't take directing credit on The Thing because it was planned as a low-budget film, one in which RKO didn't have much confidence. But, as critics have been saying ever since it was released, The Thing is a Howard Hawks film in everything but name. The opening scene of various members of the team bantering is so distilled as to be a virtual parody of Hawksian overlapping dialogue. Even more than Only Angels Have Wings, the picture presents a pristine example of a group operating resourcefully in a hermetically sealed environment in which everything in the outside world represents a grave threat. (3)

In addition to all the masculine camaraderie and spooky goings-on, one of the best aspects of The Thing is the fun, charming little tease of a romance between Capt. Hendry and Nikki (top-billed Margaret Sheridan). Nikki works as Prof. Carrington's assistant and is not merely the requisite "babe" in the film. True to the Hawksian norm, she's no pushover when it comes to trading insults with the men, nor a shrinking violet when up to her neck in perilous situations. Unlike most actresses in 50s monster movies, she doesn't utter a single scream in The Thing

and in fact, it's her practical suggestion which gives Bob, Hendry's ever-resourceful crew chief (Dewey Martin), the notion of how to finally kill the monster. Lederer and Hecht's screenplay hints at the backstory to Nikki and Pat's relationship in humorous and oblique ways, and their flirtation amidst all the chaos adds sparkle to the film but never gets in the way of the pace of the story. One nice little throwaway exchange near the finale encapsulates their verbal give-and-take, as Nikki playfully pokes the temporarily-befuddled Hendry, as his men scurry about, setting Bob's plan in motion.

Nikki: Looks as if the situation's well in hand.

Hendry: I've given all the orders I'm gonna give.

Nikki: If I thought that were true, I'd ask you to marry me.

Sheridan, a former model signed to a 5-year contract by Hawks, is quite good here, but after The Thing her career never really caught fire and she retired from acting a few years later. The closest thing to a star turn in the film is Kenneth Tobey as Capt. Hendry. Tobey racked up an impressive number of credits throughout his nearly 50-year-long career, generally as gruff, competent military men or similar types, and he was always good value, though it's as Capt. Hendry in The Thing that he truly shines. He consistently humanizes the no-nonsense, take charge man of action Hendry by displaying an easygoing approach to command. Most of Hendry's men call him by his first name, and delight in ribbing him about his budding romance with Nikki, and he responds to all this joshing in kind. When things get hairy, Tobey's Hendry doesn't have to bark his orders; it's clear that, despite the friendly banter, his men hold him in high esteem and leap to do his bidding at a moment's notice.

Many of the other members of the cast, while none of them ever became household names, will likely be recognizable from countless other roles in both film and television. Hawks gave Dewey Martin co-star billing in The Big Sky a few years later. Robert Cornthwaite kept busy for decades on stage and television, as well as in supporting roles in films such as Monkey Business, Kiss Me Deadly and Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? John Dierkes (Dr. Chapman) and Douglas Spencer (Scotty) both had juicy roles in the western classic Shane, as well as many other movies too numerous to name. Sharp-eyed viewers will also recognize Eduard Franz, Paul Frees (he of the famous voice) and Groucho Marx's right-hand man on You Bet Your Life, George Fenneman, in pivotal roles. And of course we mustn't forget 6' 7" James Arness (years before becoming renowned as Marshall Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke) as the hulking Thing.

A quick note on the "remake": John Carpenter's The Thing (1982), a bleak, grisly and brilliant take on the story, was a box-office dud when first released, but has since attained well-deserved status as a modern classic. While most fans seem divided into two camps - those who love the more restrained, old-fashioned thrills of the original, and those who prefer the more visceral, paranoiac Carpenter version - I happen to treasure both films equally and revisit each of them often. The Carpenter version is by far the gutsier, unsettling one, emphasizing as it does the "trust no one," shape-shifting "the alien is one of us" scenario imagined by John W. Campbell, but the Hawks' film is the most fun, with a far more likeable array of characters, working together to defeat an implacable menace. Each has its own clear merits. I wouldn't want to do without either film, and frankly see no need to choose one over the other.

"Every one of you listening to my voice...tell the world. Tell this to everybody, wherever they are: Watch the skies. Everywhere. Keep looking. Keep watching the skies.”

Acting Credits

Margaret Sheridan - Nikki Nicholson

Kenneth Tobey - Captain Patrick Hendrey

Robert Cornthwaite - Professor Carrington

Dewey Martin - Crew Chief

Douglas Spencer - Ned "Scotty" Scott

Eduard Franz - Dr Stern

Robert Nichols - Lieutenant Ken Erickson

William Self - Colonel Barnes

Sally Creighton - Mrs Chapman

John Dierkes - Dr. Chapman

James R. Young - Lieutenant Eddie Dykes

Norbert Schiller - Dr. Laurenz

William Neff - Olson

Allan Ray - Officer

Lee Tung Foo - Cook

Edmund Breon - Dr. Ambrose

George Fenneman - Dr. Redding

Tom Steele - Stuntman

James Arness - The Thing

Billy Curtis - The Thing While Shrinking

 

The Thing from Another World 1951

Watch the skies, everywhere! Keep looking. Keep watching the skies!

—Ned “Scotty” Scott

 

www.popscreen.com/v/7aMWr/The-Thing-from-Another-World Full Feature

www.youtube.com/v/T5xcVxkTZzM Trailer

This is one of the major classics of 50s sci fi movies. Released in April of 1951, it was the first full-length film to feature a flying saucer from outer space, which carried a hostile alien. The budget and the effects are typical B-grade stuff, but the acting and pacing are well above the usual B levels. Kenneth Toby and Margaret Sheriden star. James Arness (more known for his westerns) plays The Thing.

Howard Hawks' early foray into the science fiction genre took advantage of the anti-communist feelings of the time to help enhance the horror elements of the story. McCarthyism and the Korean War added fuel to the notion of Americans stalked by a force which was single of mind and "devoid of morality." But in the end, it is American soldiers and scientists who triumph over the evil force - or the monster in the case of this film. Even today, this is considered one of the best of the genre.

Film review by Jeff Flugel. June 2013

There's not a lot new or particularly insightful I can offer when it comes to discussing the seminal sci-fi flick, The Thing from Another World that hasn't been written about ad naseum elsewhere. One of the most famous and influential of all 1950s creature features, it kicked off more than a decade of alien invasion and bug-eyed monster movie mayhem, inspired a host of future filmmakers (one of whom, John Carpenter, would go on to direct his own version of the story in 1982), and remains one of the best-written and engaging films of its kind.

Loosely (and I do mean loosely) adapted from John W. Campbell's novella, "Who Goes There?," The Thing is legendary director Howard Hawks' lone foray into the science fiction/ horror genres, but it fits comfortably into his filmography, featuring as it does Hawks' favorite themes: a group of tough professionals doing their job with ease, good-humored banter and practiced finesse; a bit of romance with a gutsy dame who can easily hold her own with the boys; and lots of overlapping, razor-sharp dialogue. Featuring a script by Charles Lederer and an uncredited Ben Hecht, The Thing is easily the most spryly written and funniest of all 50s monster movies. In fact, it's this sharpness in the scripting, and the extremely likeable ensemble cast of characters, rather than the now-familiar story and somewhat unimaginative monster design, that makes the film still feel fresh and modern to this day.

There's likely few people out there reading this who don't know the story of The Thing like the back of their hand, but here goes...When an unidentified aircraft crashes close to a remote research station near the North Pole, Captain Pat Hendry (Kenneth Tobey, in the role of his career) and his squad are dispatched there to investigate. Dr. Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) heads the scientific contingent there, and he informs Hendry that he thinks the downed craft is possibly "not of this earth." A joint team of soldiers and scientists head out to the crash site and find an actual, honest-to-goodness flying saucer lying buried under the ice.

The spaceship is destroyed while the men try to melt the ice around it with thermite bombs, but they find a lone, 8-foot-tall extraterrestrial occupant frozen nearby and bring the body back to the outpost in a block of ice. Dr. Carrington and his crew of eggheads want to study the thing, but Hendry is adamant that it should be kept as is until he gets word from his superior in Anchorage, General Fogerty. It wouldn't be a monster movie without something going pear-shaped, of course, and before you know it, a careless mistake results in the creature being thawed out of his iceberg coffin and going on a bit of a rampage, taking out a number of sled dogs and a few unsuspecting scientists along the way. The rest of the film details the tense battle between the surviving humans and the coldly intelligent, remorseless alien invader, which seems virtually unkillable, impregnable to cold, bullets and fire...

The set-up for the film, and how everything eventually plays out, might seem overly familiarly nowadays, but in 1951, this was cutting-edge stuff, at least in cinemas. The Thing plays as a veritable blueprint of how to make a compelling "alien monster-on-the-loose" movie. Howard Hawks not being particularly well-versed, or even interested in, science fiction per se likely worked to its benefit, as he ended up making, as he so often did in his other films, what is first-and-foremost a well-oiled entertainment, rather than simply a genre exercise.

Typical of a Hawks film, The Thing is meticulously designed, composed and shot, but in such a way as to appear offhand. Hawks almost never went in for showy camera angles or flashy effects. His technique was nearly invisible; he just got on with telling the story, in the most straightforward, unfussy way. But this easy, seemingly effortless style was very carefully considered, by a shrewd and knowing mind. As Bill Warren, author of one of the best (and certainly most encyclopedic) books about 1950s sci-fi filmmaking, Keep Watching the Skies, notes in his detailed analysis of the film:

As most good movies do, The Thing works in two areas: sight and sound. The locale is a cramped, tunnel-like base; the men are confined within, the Thing can move freely outdoors in the cold. Compositions are often crowded, with more people in the shot than seems comfortable, reinforcing the idea of confinement After the Thing escapes, only the alien itself is seen standing and moving alone.

This feeling of a cold, hostile environment outside the base is constantly reinforced throughout the film, and a real tension mounts when, towards the climax, the highly intelligent Thing, itself immune to the subzero arctic conditions, turns off the compound's heating, knowing the humans inside will quickly die without it. (The freaky, otherworldly theremin-flavored music by Dimitri Tiomkin adds a lot to the eerie atmosphere here.)

As groundbreaking and well-structured as the plot of The Thing was (and is), what makes the film play so well today is the great script and the interaction of a bunch of seasoned character actors, who toss off both exposition and pithy bon mots in such a low-key, believable manner. This is a truly ensemble movie, and the fact that it doesn't feature any big name stars really adds to the overall effect; no one really hogs all the limelight or gets the lion's share of good lines. Hawks was a director who usually worked with the biggest names in the business, but, much as in the earlier Air Force, he was equally at home working with a cast of rock-solid character actors.

All this talk of Howard Hawks as director, when it's actually Christian Nyby who is credited with the job, has long been a source of speculation with fans of the film. Todd McCarthy, in his bio Howard Hawks: The Grey Fox of Hollywood, seems to clear the issue up once and for all (though really, after viewing enough Hawks films, the results speak for themselves):

The perennial question surrounding The Thing From Another World has always been, Who actually directed it, Christian Nyby or Howard Hawks? The sum of participants' responses make the answer quite clear. Putting it most bluntly, (associate producer) Ed Lasker said "Chris Nyby didn't direct a thing. One day Howard was late and Chris said,'Why don't we get started? I know what the shot should be.' And I said, 'No, Chris, I think we'll wait until Howard gets here." Ken Tobey testified, "Chris Nyby directed one scene. Howard Hawks was there, but he let Chris direct one scene. We all rushed into a room, eight or ten of us, and we practically knocked each other over. No one knew what to do." Dewey Martin, Robert Cornthwaite and Richard Keinen all agreed that Hawks was the director, and Bill Self said, "Chris Nyby was a very nice, decent fellow, but he wasn't Howard Hawks."

Nyby had been Hawks' editor on a number of films, and Hawks apparently decided to help his collaborator establish a name for himself by allowing him directorial credit on the film. This seemingly altruistic gesture didn't mean that Hawks wasn't involved in virtually every aspect of the making of the film, however, and ultimately, The Thing did little for Nyby's directing career, at least on the big screen (he did go on to a long and busy career directing for numerous television programs, however.)

Bill Self was told at the time that Hawks didn't take directing credit on The Thing because it was planned as a low-budget film, one in which RKO didn't have much confidence. But, as critics have been saying ever since it was released, The Thing is a Howard Hawks film in everything but name. The opening scene of various members of the team bantering is so distilled as to be a virtual parody of Hawksian overlapping dialogue. Even more than Only Angels Have Wings, the picture presents a pristine example of a group operating resourcefully in a hermetically sealed environment in which everything in the outside world represents a grave threat. (3)

In addition to all the masculine camaraderie and spooky goings-on, one of the best aspects of The Thing is the fun, charming little tease of a romance between Capt. Hendry and Nikki (top-billed Margaret Sheridan). Nikki works as Prof. Carrington's assistant and is not merely the requisite "babe" in the film. True to the Hawksian norm, she's no pushover when it comes to trading insults with the men, nor a shrinking violet when up to her neck in perilous situations. Unlike most actresses in 50s monster movies, she doesn't utter a single scream in The Thing

and in fact, it's her practical suggestion which gives Bob, Hendry's ever-resourceful crew chief (Dewey Martin), the notion of how to finally kill the monster. Lederer and Hecht's screenplay hints at the backstory to Nikki and Pat's relationship in humorous and oblique ways, and their flirtation amidst all the chaos adds sparkle to the film but never gets in the way of the pace of the story. One nice little throwaway exchange near the finale encapsulates their verbal give-and-take, as Nikki playfully pokes the temporarily-befuddled Hendry, as his men scurry about, setting Bob's plan in motion.

Nikki: Looks as if the situation's well in hand.

Hendry: I've given all the orders I'm gonna give.

Nikki: If I thought that were true, I'd ask you to marry me.

Sheridan, a former model signed to a 5-year contract by Hawks, is quite good here, but after The Thing her career never really caught fire and she retired from acting a few years later. The closest thing to a star turn in the film is Kenneth Tobey as Capt. Hendry. Tobey racked up an impressive number of credits throughout his nearly 50-year-long career, generally as gruff, competent military men or similar types, and he was always good value, though it's as Capt. Hendry in The Thing that he truly shines. He consistently humanizes the no-nonsense, take charge man of action Hendry by displaying an easygoing approach to command. Most of Hendry's men call him by his first name, and delight in ribbing him about his budding romance with Nikki, and he responds to all this joshing in kind. When things get hairy, Tobey's Hendry doesn't have to bark his orders; it's clear that, despite the friendly banter, his men hold him in high esteem and leap to do his bidding at a moment's notice.

Many of the other members of the cast, while none of them ever became household names, will likely be recognizable from countless other roles in both film and television. Hawks gave Dewey Martin co-star billing in The Big Sky a few years later. Robert Cornthwaite kept busy for decades on stage and television, as well as in supporting roles in films such as Monkey Business, Kiss Me Deadly and Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? John Dierkes (Dr. Chapman) and Douglas Spencer (Scotty) both had juicy roles in the western classic Shane, as well as many other movies too numerous to name. Sharp-eyed viewers will also recognize Eduard Franz, Paul Frees (he of the famous voice) and Groucho Marx's right-hand man on You Bet Your Life, George Fenneman, in pivotal roles. And of course we mustn't forget 6' 7" James Arness (years before becoming renowned as Marshall Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke) as the hulking Thing.

A quick note on the "remake": John Carpenter's The Thing (1982), a bleak, grisly and brilliant take on the story, was a box-office dud when first released, but has since attained well-deserved status as a modern classic. While most fans seem divided into two camps - those who love the more restrained, old-fashioned thrills of the original, and those who prefer the more visceral, paranoiac Carpenter version - I happen to treasure both films equally and revisit each of them often. The Carpenter version is by far the gutsier, unsettling one, emphasizing as it does the "trust no one," shape-shifting "the alien is one of us" scenario imagined by John W. Campbell, but the Hawks' film is the most fun, with a far more likeable array of characters, working together to defeat an implacable menace. Each has its own clear merits. I wouldn't want to do without either film, and frankly see no need to choose one over the other.

"Every one of you listening to my voice...tell the world. Tell this to everybody, wherever they are: Watch the skies. Everywhere. Keep looking. Keep watching the skies.”

Acting Credits

Margaret Sheridan - Nikki Nicholson

Kenneth Tobey - Captain Patrick Hendrey

Robert Cornthwaite - Professor Carrington

Dewey Martin - Crew Chief

Douglas Spencer - Ned "Scotty" Scott

Eduard Franz - Dr Stern

Robert Nichols - Lieutenant Ken Erickson

William Self - Colonel Barnes

Sally Creighton - Mrs Chapman

John Dierkes - Dr. Chapman

James R. Young - Lieutenant Eddie Dykes

Norbert Schiller - Dr. Laurenz

William Neff - Olson

Allan Ray - Officer

Lee Tung Foo - Cook

Edmund Breon - Dr. Ambrose

George Fenneman - Dr. Redding

Tom Steele - Stuntman

James Arness - The Thing

Billy Curtis - The Thing While Shrinking

 

Italian postcard. Rank. Bromofoto, Milano, No. 1149. Alexander Knox as the surgeon Leonard Joyce in Reach for the Sky (Lewis Gilbert, 1956), a biopic on aviator Douglas Bader, released in Italy as Bader il Pilota. Kenneth More played Bader.

 

Alexander Knox (16 January 1907 – 25 April 1995) was a Canadian actor on stage, screen, and occasionally television. He was nominated for an Oscar and won a Golden Globe for his performance as Woodrow Wilson in the film Wilson (1944). Although his liberal views forced him to leave Hollywood because of McCarthyism, Knox had a long career. He starred in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (1979 BBC mini-series) as Control, Chief of the Circus and George Smiley's mentor. He was also an author, writing adventure novels set in the Great Lakes area during the 19th century as well as plays and detective novels.

 

Knox was born in Strathroy, Ontario, where his father was the minister of the Presbyterian Church. He graduated from the University of Western Ontario. He moved to Boston, Massachusetts, to perform on stage with the Boston Repertory Theatre. After the company folded following the stock market crash of 1929, Knox returned to London, Ontario, where, for the next two years, he worked as a reporter for The London Advertiser before moving to London, England, where, during the 1930s, he appeared in several films such as the Nova Pilbeam comedy Cheer Boys Cheer (Walter Forde, 1939). He starred opposite Jessica Tandy in the 1940 Broadway production of Jupiter Laughs and, in 1944, he was chosen by Darryl F. Zanuck to star in Wilson (Henry King, 1944), the biographical film about American President Woodrow Wilson, for which he won a Golden Globe Award and was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actor. However, during the McCarthy Era, his liberal views and work with the Committee for the First Amendment hurt his career, but he was not blacklisted, and he returned to Britain.

 

In the 1940s and 1950s Knox had major roles in the Jack London adaptation The Sea Wolf (Michael Curtiz, 1941) starring Edward G. Robinson, the war crimes trial film None Shall Escape (André de Toth, 1944) in which Knox had the lead, Over 21 (Charles Vidor, 1945) with Irene Dunne, Sister Kenny (Dudley Nicholls, 1946) starring Rosalind Russell, Europa '51 (Roberto Rossellini, 1952) starring Ingrid Bergman, and the swashbuckler The Vikings (Richard Fleischer, 1958). From the late 1950s Knox had major supporting roles later in his career including several films by Joseph Losey. memorable were his parts in Operation Amsterdam (Michael McCarthy, 1959) with Peter Finch and Eva Bartok, Oscar Wilde (Gregory Ratoff, 1960), The Longest Day (Ken Annakin a.o., 1962), The Damned (Joseph Losey, 1963), Khartoum (Basil Dearden, 1966), Modesty Blaise (Joseph Losey, 1966), Accident (Losey, 1967), and Fräulein Doktor (Alberto Lattuada, 1969). He had smaller parts in e.g. You Only Live Twice ((Lewis Gilbert, 1967), the Alistair MacLean adaptation Puppet on a Chain (Geoffrey Reeve, 1970), Nicholas and Alexandra (Franklin J. Schaffner, 1971), Gorky Park (Michael Apted, 1984), and Joshua Then and Now (Ted Kotcheff, 1985; his last film role). Knox played Control opposite Alec Guiness as Smiley in the miniseries Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. He also depicted Governor Hudson Inverest in "The Latin Touch", the second episode of the first season of The Saint in 1962. Knox wrote six adventure novels: Bride of Quietness (1933), Night of the White Bear (1971), The Enemy I Kill (1972), Raider's Moon, The Kidnapped Surgeon and Totem Dream. He also wrote plays and at least three detective novels under a pseudonym before 1945.

 

Knox was married to American actress Doris Nolan (1916–1998) from 1944 until his death in 1995. They starred together in the 1949 Broadway play The Closing Door, which Knox also wrote. They had a son Andrew Joseph Knox (born 1947; died by suicide in 1987) who became an actor and appeared in Doctor on the Go, and who was married to Imogen Hassall. Alexander Knox died in Berwick-upon-Tweed from bone cancer on April 25, 1995.

 

Sources: English Wikipedia, IMDb.

I received an email from flickr support staff today telling me my entire account had been set to Moderate because of someone complaining about Violet's 'Curve' image and a couple others... Apparently that image is against the community guidelines specifically as the rep wrote that "as the "safe" area of the Flickr site must be free of all frontal/rear nudity, thong/butt/pastie shots, sexualized content, etc..." and that apparently includes models that are fully dressed and wearing more than a Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue or the ads in Vogue.

 

So I had to manually sift through in Organizr and reflag all 100 nudes or semi nudes or not nudes at all apparently and make sure they were set to moderate. The other 2200 images in my account - including the whales and cars and mountains were blocked to casual viewing outside of flickr till I did. I even tossed in a couple more like Violet's image to made sure I didn't offend the gods.

 

Where will this stop? I can see on some levels how nipples may offend kids who have never breast fed or not been to a nude beach or taken a shower before. but a bum? My work for the most part is not 'porn'. and yet the people who send me invites and have their cum shots, anal sex and so on in their streams and are still counted as SAFE. When you complain it is well known that flickr will often send a response back saying that you need to know how to manage filters or block users...

 

Do a search sometime not logged into flickr for NUDE and you come up with 137,000 images by that tag alone (none of my nudes were ever found that way). And yet a fully clothed albeit sensual image gets my account blacked out to the world till I play nice? Fair? No.

 

I however have to play by the rules. And I am not about to rat out the artists whose work I enjoy and have their nudes set as safe just to make a "he is doing it too!" point a la McCarthyism. but every nasty banging your wife image I see that might be an unflagged nasty shot will be reported.

 

Where does this vanilla or yahooization of flickr end? As it is seen in the Middle East, if someone complains there that one of my images of a woman doesnt contain a head scarf, do they bow to that lowest common denominator?

 

Really. I have been on Flickr since 2005. Been a pro that long too. and I have seen some changes.... but this is almost enough for me to throw in the towel when a non nude non sexual image gets flagged.

Rafael Edward Cruz, aka Ted Cruz, is a Republican United States Senator for the state of Texas.

 

The source image for this modified photo of Ted Cruz is a Creative Commons licensed photo from Gage Skidmore's Flickr photostream.

1 3 4 5 6 7 ••• 40 41