IMPRISON TRAITOR, PEDOPHILE, AND CONVICTED FELON TRUMP.
Showing posts with label character actors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label character actors. Show all posts

Sunday, January 8, 2023

Mary Field - What a Character! blogathon


Mary Field was a very good actress, with the ability to command a scene and entirely lose herself in a character, yet most of the roles she played were brief, uncredited, and leaves one wondering what her career might have been like had the Hollywood caste system not been so rigid.


This post is part of the11th Annual What a Character! blogathon, hosted by Paula of Paula’s Cinema Club and @Paula_Guthat, Kellee of Outspoken & Freckled and @Irishjayhawk66, and Aurora of Once Upon a Screen and @CitizenScreen.  Have a look here at the other great blogs on the roster.

Mary Field appeared in over 100 films, along with several television appearances in a career spanning 46 years before her retirement in 1963 at 54.  Many of her roles were spinster types: maids, shop clerks, librarians; many were comic, some were poignant, but all were unique individuals.  


The comic man-chasing spinster in The Great Gildersleeve (1942) who made Gildy’s life a wreck is unrecognizable from the quiet, concerned adoptive mother who brings her little Dutch-speaking orphan to see Santa Claus in a moving scene in Miracle on 34th Street (1947).  You would not know they were the same actress.  Unlike many character actors, I think she is less recognizable because of her ability to play nuanced roles.



She is one of the boarders in Shadows on the Stairs (1941), a larger-than-life personality who steals scenes.  She is perhaps barely noticed in many other films, but she appeared in greats such as Ball of Fire (1941), Now, Voyager (1942), and Mrs. Miniver (1942).



Mary Field was what was called a day worker, someone reliable to plug into a small role at short notice, but seemingly stuck in that particular orbit of studio system hirelings.  Many struggling actors would be, and were, grateful for a toehold in the industry, but most would find that it also meant a dead end of not reaching supporting player status on a studio’s roster, let alone stardom.

Yet Mary Field, I think, had the ability, much like Lionel Barrymore, to be a character actor-star. 


My favorite role, so far, is her turn as the shop clerk in a women’s clothing store in Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid (1948) which we covered here.  I’ll quote from that essay:

The funniest scene in the movie is when Mr. Powell heads to a women’s clothing store in town to purchase some sort of top for his mermaid.  His befuddled awkwardness sets the stage for a terrific scene, and he plays the straight man for Mary Field, whom you’ve probably seen uncredited in a zillion movie walk-on parts.  Here she gets a good role as the primly officious clerk, who delights in her soliloquy sales pitches to the uncomfortable Mr. Powell.  She sounds like a Banana Republic or J Peterman catalog description gone amuck. 

She displays a sweater, “Light as a whisper, gay as a sunbeam, wearing it will be an emotional adventure spangled with the moon glow of twilight.”  

Miss Field continues her merry prattle, “A gay spectrum of springtime hues—fuchsia, purple almond, banana, marshmallow, peach dream and licorice!”

 Mr. Powell replies, “Would you be good enough to tell me something?”

Miss Field: “Enchanted.”  (I love her over-the-top playfulness with proper speech.)

Mr. Powell: “Whatever became of blue?”

She finds he is going to be trouble, especially when he wants to know if someone can swim in her sweaters.

“May I ask is the young lady’s prejudice against swimming in a swimming suit quite deep-seated?”  (One of my all-time favorite lines.  I just love her.  In a way, her intonation and enunciation reminds me of a reformed Eliza Doolittle when she is carefully trying to explain to Freddy Eynsford-Hill that, “Them she lived with would have killed her for a hat-pin, let alone a hat.”  Her careful stroking of the difficult language as if to tame it.)

Mr. Powell just realizes he could buy his mermaid a two-piece swimsuit instead of a sweater and she could just wear the top part.  But Miss Field, Saleswoman of the Year, insists they do not sell half of a bathing suit.  She holds one up, “The diaper model.  Provocative, n'est–ce pas?”  (She’s straight-faced, slam-dunk hysterical.)

 


Here in Top o’ the Morning (1949), she plays a chambermaid who gets to sing a line or two with Bing Crosby.  She played against the greats, and held her own.

Miss Field’s personal life was something of an enigma.  Reportedly, she was a foundling left outside the doors of a church as a baby.  She was adopted, and went to school in Westchester, New York.  In her late 20s she went to Hollywood.  Perhaps there was some stage work in the interim, but I don’t know.  She married, had children, and evidently, was satisfied in middle age to leave her acting career.

Hat's off to the day workers, and to Mary Field, who deserved more screen time and a higher notch in the caste system (and the cast).

Check out the other great characters actors being paid tribute in this 11th Annual What a Character! blogathon here.

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Jacqueline T. Lynch is the author of Ann Blyth: Actress. Singer. Star. and Movies in Our Time - Hollywood Mirrors and Mimics the Twentieth Century and Hollywood Fights Fascism.  Her latest book is Christmas in Classic Films. TO JOIN HER READERS' GROUP - follow this link for a free book as a thank-you for joining.

Monday, September 16, 2019

Bertha Kirk - a Studio "Extra" Mystery


In September 1928, a gentleman named H. J. Pepper, 60 years old, retired hotelkeeper from Manitoba, Canada, and now eager silent movie "extra," met character actress Bertha Kirk at a studio while working on a film.  Though married, he became infatuated with her, but stalked her and shot her, then turned the gun on himself.  She was 50 at the time. 

I recently received a request for info on this subject by a researcher named Scott who wanted to know if I could help him find the titles of the movies Bertha Kirk might have played in, or obtain a photo of her.  Unfortunately, I knew of only the bare facts of the case.

It's an intriguing mystery, and Scott adds a hypothesis from his research (his remarks are slightly abridged by me for brevity and clarity):

"Halsey James Pepper was promoted to “Gas Officer” during the First World War and joking, attributed his promotion not to skill but to his tolerance for high-fume gas. And in June of 1928 just 3 months before the shooting a short film was released titled “A background Extra” full title being “The Life & Death of 9413, a Background Extra” and the working title from the studio being “The suicide of a background extra.” Unlike most experimental films of that time, it was not shown in the living room of a producer or home audience, it was promoted by the likes of Charlie Chaplin, who saw the genius behind the film's portrayal of Hollywood and the never-ending loops you must jump through only to be disregarded altogether as background material. Nothing more than a prop. So it was shown in 300 select theatres across America that summer. The story is almost uncanny to the real-life event that unfolded...most bizarre is a small scene near the end where a “Captain” character is seen laughing at background extra 9413 in his grave. This character has no credit nor does he appear in any other scene. I’ve tried to find a reference to his meaning but nothing comes up about him. This to me is almost supernatural and I feel something more was at play but to conclude my current hypothesis, Captain Pepper was suffering from some form of brain deterioration caused by years and years of exposure to high-fume gases. The fact that he went 50 years living a relatively normal life managing hotels seems bizarre to up and leave for Hollywood and in his mid 50’s at that. The short film that came out right before this event unfolded could be the key that unlocked the insanity manifesting inside Captain Pepper." 

The newspaper blurb above is from a wire story printed in an Australian newspaper, so while it must have gained some notoriety at the time, the headlines were probably short-lived since the police case would have been closed due to Pepper's committing suicide.  Had they arrested the murderer and put him on trial, there would have been daily reporting and possibly some photos and more background on Bertha Kirk.

I'd like to turn this over to our classic film fan community and see if anyone can come up with any more info on Bertha Kirk or the story, especially those among you who know more about the silent film era.  Feel free to leave your comments on this post, or email me at JacquelineTLynch@gmail.com, and I'll pass the word along to Scott.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Bette Davis, Dick Cavett, and Character Actors

During her appearance on the “Dick Cavett Show” November 18, 1971, Bette Davis reflected on the great loss to the world of theatre and film with the death only the previous evening of Gladys Cooper. The remarkable Gladys Cooper had played Davis’ mother in “Now, Voyager” (1944).

Perhaps some of you saw the rerun of this, one of Cavett’s iconic interviews, over the weekend on TCM. Miss Davis also mourned as a great loss to films Walter Huston, who had died some twenty years previously. She made the observation, as so many of old movie buffs have since, that the character actors were a mainstay of the industry, and that with their loss films would never be the same. She got that right.

It’s interesting that she made this remark nearly 40 years ago, when the studio system was still a fresh memory if no longer an influence in the 1970s film industry, and when the greats of the golden age were retiring, grasping at TV show guest spots and regional dinner theatre, or dying in stages. These days film blogs note with alarming frequency the deaths of celebrities of decades past, but when Bette Davis perched herself on the set of Dick Cavett’s talk show with her cigarettes, the era between then and now was only just being delineated. Most of them weren’t dead yet, but they sure weren’t fighting off film offers. Yet in the 1930s and 1940s, elderly actors were seen in many films. They were character actors. They had spent a lifetime moving from the role of Juliet to the role of Juliet’s nurse, and the earned every penny and end credit, if the accolades were few.

Miss Davis also made the intriguing remark that Huston’s death was a big loss in part because filmmakers would no longer create parts for someone like Huston because Huston was gone. There would be no more (paraphrasing here) “write me a Walter Huston type, or get me a Walter Huston type”, because future generations who have no idea who Walter Huston was, or what his type was supposed to be, or why it might be a great addition to a film.

Is the dearth of character parts and favorite character actors in this movie era of blockbuster stardom, where the only character parts seem to be voiceover roles in animated features, a reflection of the death of Walter Huston, and Reginald Gardiner, and Mary Wickes (who acted right up until the end of her life, bless her and bless the people who hired her)?

Which came first, the character actor, or the character actor roles? Which died first? What are your thoughts?

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Ten Things I Like About Old Movies

Ten things I rather like about old movies (without taking into consideration anything as superfluous as good acting, writing or cinematography):

1. Screaming newspapers headlines and screaming newsboys screaming the newspaper headlines.
2. Calendar pages that drop off like autumn leaves to show the passage of time. I watch my calendar on the wall, but this never happens. Except one time, when the thumbtack was loose and the entire year crashed to the floor at once. It was quite unnerving.
3. A song or music theme running all through the movie until you are sick of it.
4. Bell boys. I think it’s the uniform.
5. “Buy War Bonds At This Theater” at the end of a film. One wonders had we been relentlessly pestered to buy U.S. Savings bonds these last several years if our government deficit would have decreased a bit and our personal savings increased a bit.
6. Crashing waves, fireworks, or a quick fade to black to suggest sexual desire or consummation. During the years of the Production Code we needed some kind of subversive clue. To this day, I cannot watch fireworks without chuckling.
7. Candlestick telephones on the office desk.
8. Character actors, most of whom had a lot more experience than the biggest stars.
9. No matter how many times the private detective gets beat up, he always goes back for more. I would have chucked it in for a nice cozy job at the McDonald’s drive-through window the first time somebody beat me senseless and stepped all over my Fedora.
10. “Swell.”

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

Dabbs Greer

Dabbs Greer, who died recently, gave a wonderful quote to the Albany Times Union in 2000, much repeated with news of his passing, “Every character actor in their own little sphere, is the lead.”

With over 100 roles to his credit as a character actor, divided between film and mostly television, Mr. Greer joined the ranks of those actors we always recognize but do not always know their names. His final feature film role in 1999 was in “The Green Mile” playing the elder Tom Hanks role of Paul Edgecomb.

He started out as the cop, the cab driver, the clerk, the reporter. Later on in television, he became our uncle, our friend, our neighbor. From shopkeeper to minister, he was a good character actor. One does not work as many decades as he did without being good at his job, and the great thing about character actors is they are allowed to age. Stars are seldom forgiven for aging, but it’s an okay thing for a character actor to do. Character actors are everymen. They are like us, and perhaps that is why we recognize them so well. We are all the leads in our own stories. So was Dabbs Greer.

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