Grady Sutton

A long time ago the fellow with this pleasant face began in the movies in a walk-on part with no lines (it was a silent movie, after all), and carved out a decades-long career as the anonymous everyman who was somehow familiar.

Know this guy in the sweater?  That's Student Who Goes to Get the Dean.  This is from Harold Lloyd’s 1925 silent comedy “The Freshman”. This young man was on screen for only a few moments. Prophetically, he would build his entire career around appearing on screen for only a few, very memorable, moments.


He’s Grady Sutton, uncredited in most of his roles. Even though he co-starred in a series of Hal Roach two-reelers early on in his career, he never quite made to top banana fame.

Along the way he played the foil for W.C. Fields, and appeared in “Alice Adams” (1935) with Katharine Hepburn, and was hastily engaged to Carole Lombard in “My Man Godfrey” (1936).

Oddly enough, he managed to be one of the most recognizable bit actors in Hollywood, appearing in something like 200 movies and television shows. Once he made the transition from silents to talkies, we all got to hear that gentle Southern drawl that suited so well his shy, deadpan naivete.

Here he’s the housemaid Hattie’s beau, Butch the Butcher in “Stage Door” (1937), being teased by Lucille Ball.

Here, he’s Gary Cooper’s best man in “Casanova Brown” (1943).

Here, he’s the diner counterman who for several hysterical moments (could be one of his longer roles) agonizes over Jean Arthur’s post-wedding crying jag as he serves her boiled rice.

Here he’s one of the servicemen and the local camp that Jennifer Jones, Joseph Cotten, and Claudette Colbert visit in “Since You Went Away” (1944), as he wanders the party looking for “Suzy Flemming”.

After a few unsuccessful attempts to dance with Rosemary Clooney at the cast party in “White Christmas” (1954), Grady is introduced to Barrie Chase, who delivers her famous line, “Mutual, I’m sure.”

Mr. Sutton went on to several more decades of work in film and television, never saying much, but always a welcome addition to the party.

Cats as Fashion Accessories

Eve Arden lounges in the parlor of the rooming house for aspiring actresses in “Stage Door” (1937) while a cat lounges on her, draped around her neck like a scarf. He is named Henry, long and lazy and makes an obliging fur piece. He barely flexes as Eve strolls about casting wisecracks like a flower girl casting petals. He doesn’t move a muscle. He may not have any. He clearly has no bones, as floppy as a child’s old stuffed animal.

“Bell, Book and Candle” (1958) stars Kim Novak and another feline which doubles as part friend, part security blanket, all fashion statement. Pyewacket the cat consents to being pulled from hiding places and draped across Kim Novak’s shoulders or sliding seductively down her body, the two of them like an ice dancing pair. He is her partner in crime, but also a fashion accessory.

Cat, the unimaginatively named feline in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” (1961) isn’t used as a scarf or a stole or a furry boa. He’s too tough for that. He might pounce on George Peppard from boredom, but he’s nobody’s fashion accessory. But unlike Pyewacket and Henry, he takes center stage in the pivotal climatic scene when the lovers reunite in the rain, with the rain-soaked cat nestled between them, trying to stay dry under their chins.

Perhaps it is their stillness, even more than their flexibility that makes them such good props.