HOLIDAY (1930): There's Something About Mary (Astor, that is)

This is my entry in the Mary Astor Blogathon hosted by Tales of the Easily Distracted and Silver Screenings . Click here for all who agree that there is just something about Mary!

Cary Grant is Johnny Case and Katharine Hepburn is Linda Seton in the film version of the Philip Barry play "Holiday," right? Right you are, but before Kate and Cary tore up the screen together there was an earlier 1930 version starring Ann Harding and, second billed, Mary Astor. Robert Ames had the Cary Grant role and the fact that he got 4th billing (behind Edward Everett Horton in the same part he played in the later film), tells you that there is a shift in focus here. While Grant's Johnny Case really did let a breath of fresh air into that stuffy Seton mansion, Ames is an interesting guy who happens to get in between 2 sisters. In the later version, is there really any choice between Kate and Doris Nolan? The fact that I can  never remember her name and always call her Doris-what's-her-name tells you where I stand. She is shallow and uninteresting and as soon as Hepburn's Linda bolts upon the scene, there is no doubt that she is the more desirable sister. But, in 1930, that sister is played by our Mary and she is chic, kittenish, lovable and very, very sexy. Quel dilemma! 

Devoted Sisters: Ann Harding as Linda and Mary Astor as Julia

Ann Harding as Linda gives a strong performance. Not as impulsive as Kate, she is a more thoughtful rebel, but she is as crisp and clean as the dialogue. Robert Ames as Johnny is no Cary Grant, but then who is? Where Cary and Kate had enormous chemistry, Ames seems to have more chemistry with Mary.   It's hard not to think of Cary when watching Ames, but if you take the time to read up on this actor, you'll see that he was quite the scoundrel who lived fast and died young (click here for a Wikipedia bio). Monroe Owsley (another actor who died young) as brother Ned was preferable (to me) over Lew Ayres in the later version. His depression and despair seemed more tragic.

Julia & Johnny

So, it is our Mary and her lusty chemical reaction with her co-star that sets this version on "Holiday" on its ears. She is too gorgeous, too wonderful, too everything to suddenly turn all materialistic on a big fat Seton dime. I really wanted her to run off to Paris with Johnny at the end and leave Linda and Ned and the Potters (Susan Potter played by pre-poisonous Hedda Hopper) to play in the nursery. They would have had a real adult romance. Or, better yet, I'd like to see Kate battle Cary for his heart. That would be some choice!

After a successful career in silents as a Madonna like damsel, Mary initially flunked her sound test. Rather than take a pay cut, she left Fox studios, did some stage work and, lo and behold, emerged as the purring, sophisticated, laser-point-perfect actress we celebrate today. She is never less than memorable.

Can't we have this version????

A note on the DVD version: it was just plain awful. I am not sure if there is a better copy out there, but the one I was able to find was almost unwatchable. This very well done early talkie deserves to be polished, cleaned up and made available, as it is an interesting companion to the more famous 1938 version.

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Mary Astor: The Prisoner of Moorcrest

Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess whose mean father and evil mother worked her to the bone, lived off her earnings and kept her a prisoner in a castle called Moorcrest in a place called Hollywood. Sounds a little "Jane Eyre" and "Cinderella" with a dash of "Rapunzel." But, this is no fairly tale and the princess was Mary Astor.

Beautiful Mary Astor (born Lucile Vasconcellos Langhanke) was the daughter of teachers who didn't really want to teach. When lovely Lucile showed a talent for acting and became a semifinalist in a Motion Picture Magazine beauty contest, papa packed up the family and moved first to New York, where Lucile entered motion pictures, and later to Hollywood, where Paramount Pictures renamed her Mary Astor. Papa Langhanke managed all of Mary's affairs from 1920 (at which time Mary was 14 years old) to 1930.

Mary's career continued on a upward path, though she was chiefly singled out for her Madonna like beauty. Sadly, the black and white film of the day could not do justice to the lovely auburn hair that earned her the nickname "Rusty." Mary entered into a true and passionate love affair with the much older John Barrymore at age 18, but Papa put the kibosh on that and hauled her back to the mansion they had bought with the money she had earned. It was this mansion that became her prison.

Moorcrest as it looks today

Completed in 1921, Moorcrest is often referred to as the "Charlie Chaplin House," as Chaplin did live there for a short while. However, after he departed, Mary's parents, who were learning to enjoy the good life on Mary's sweat, purchased this moorish-mission style mansion. It is a home with an interesting pedigree.

The original land that became Krotona - a Utopian society

Theosophy, a belief system that mixes a little occult with a little faith and a dash of science, was popular in the late 19th and early 20th century. In 1921, members of the Theosophical Society created their own little Utopia called Krotona in Hollywood, below where the Hollywood sign stands today. Moorcrest was designed by one of Krotona's founding members, Marie Russak Hotchner (former opera singer, society figure and architect). Krotona thrived for a while, but the materialistic lifestyle of the sin-loving movie colony soon convinced the Theosophists that it might be better to pack up and move to Ojai, where they still practice today. However, the Society's temple - the Temple of the Rosy Cross - is now part of the Krotona Apartments, located on Alta Vista Street.

The Langhankes were not Theosophists, but were friendly with both Mrs. and Mr. Hotchner. In fact, Mrs. Hotchner pleaded on Mary's behalf for her parents to give her a $5 a week allowance when she was earning $2500 a week from Paramount. What a friend.

And so, Mary toiled all day at the studio and was kept a virtual prisoner by her abusive parents at night. Finally, at age 19, she climbed out of her bedroom window and escaped, landing in a hotel in Hollywood. Hotchner again interceded and persuaded Mary to come home with a promise of a $500 bank account and control of her finances. She might have gotten the $500, but papa did not lose control until Mary was 26 years old. She finally escaped by marrying at age 22 and moving out with her husband.

Poor Mary Astor. She was a beautiful movie star to the world, but her life was a hell made by her greedy parents. When Mary did finally gain control of her finances at age 26, her parents promptly sued her for support. The case was finally settled, with Mary agreeing to pay mom and dad a monthly support check of $100. Mom, upon her death, left Mary her diaries. They were filled with unspeakable hatred of and cruelty towards the daughter who supported her.

Ironically, Mary should have learned that keeping a diary could be dangerous as she found herself, in 1936, embroiled in a nasty court fight with her second husband over custody of their daughter. Although never entered into evidence, her purple prose diary detailing affairs, especially one with playwright George S. Kaufman, created a huge scandal. While Mary Astor went on to create many memorable screen characters with her sensitive and incisive style, no screen drama could match that of her early life.

Want to know more about Moorcrest? Click on the link below to see how beautifully it has been restored.

http://www.megadreamhomes.com/MegaLifeStyles/Moorcrest/default.htm

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Mary Astor (Bitch)/George Sanders (Blaggard)

This is the first in the "Bitches and Blaggards" series; monthly posts devoted to my favorite movie bad girls and rogues. A bitch is a selfish, malicious woman. A blaggard is a villain, a rogue and a black-hearted man. Both are bad, both are devastatingly alluring.

Mary Astor

Mary Astor is my favorite "movie bitch." Like a jagged shard of glass, she glitters, she shines, but she is hard and she can cut deep. As an actress, Mary Astor has few equals. Her first roles were of the Madonna type, but she soon found her niche playing ladies who were lethally lovely and never to be trusted.

Mary's two crowning "B" roles are Brigid O'Shaughnessy in "The Maltese Falcon" and Sandra Kovak in "The Great Lie."

Brigid O'Shaughnessy ("The Maltese Falcon")

Did you fall for Brigid's act the first time you saw this film? If you did, don't feel foolish, since a tough guy like Bogey's Sam Spade also fell hook, line and sinker. Her eyes are so moist, her voice trembles, she so needs the protection of a man like Sam Spade. How could he resist? Selfish, duplicitous, conniving, unrepentant and beautiful, she is the ultimate noir femme fatale. We really don't like her, but we can't take our eyes off of her, either.

Sandra Kovak ("The Great Lie")

This is Mary Astor's finest hour as the ultimate movie bitch. In "The Great Lie" Bette Davis (who can bitch with the best of them) steps aside and lets Astor steal the show. Davis' acting generosity to Mary Astor in this film is stunning. As the cold, selfish, brilliant pianist and party girl Sandra Kovak, Astor poaches George Brent's Pete from Bette's Maggie, impulsively marries him and manages to get pregnant by him before the two discover the marriage was not valid because Sandra's divorce from hubby #1 was not final. Pete, unaware of the pregnancy, feels he dodged a bullet, ditches Sandra and returns to true love Maggie before flying off into the unknown. Not wanting the child, Sandra willingly gives it to Maggie to raise before embarking on a successful world tour. Imagine the surprise of both gals when Pete returns home alive. He happily reunites with Maggie, who tells him that the child is theirs. Selfish Sandra decides she wants Pete for herself and holds the secret of the child's paternity over poor Maggie's head. Apparently, both natural mom and dad really don't want that kid, as Pete tells Sandra she can have the child, but he'll keep Maggie, thank you. Good thing Maggie wants the child, since Sandra doesn't want him without the father. Astor elevates screen acting to its highest art. She is amazing and was awarded 1941's Academy Award for the Best Supporting Actress.

Mary Astor had a long and varied career in Hollywood. She went from the perfect innocent in the 1920s, to the perfect sophisticate in the 1930s to the perfect bitch in the 1940s. She could be nice ("Dodsworth") and not so nice ("Red Dust"). Her playing was always delicate, incisive and refined.

Mary Astor's personal life proved to be even more dramatic than any film she ever made. Prodded into acting by oppressive parents who virtually held her a prisoner into her 20s, at age 18 she engaged in a passionate affair with the much older John Barrymore (until he ditched her for equally young Dolores Costello). She married four times, and, during a bitter child custody battle with husband #2, her private diary (which contained much purple prose and detailed a sexual affair with playwright George S. Kaufman) was exposed with much publicity. Later, she became disenchanted with Hollywood and struggled with alcoholism and several suicide attempts. She recovered and went on to write six novels, two autobiographies and kept her hand in acting on both stage and screen (her last appearance being in "Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte" with friend Bette Davis).

George Sanders

Suave, elegant, deadly - ah the magic of George Sanders. Was there ever a man so sophisticated, so cynical, so seemingly morally corrupt - yet so attractive? I can't think of any.

I am sure George Sanders played some nice men, but it's hard to think of him as anything but a rogue. My two favorite George Sanders roguish roles are Jack Favell in "Rebecca" and Addison DeWitt in "All About Eve."

Jack Favell ("Rebecca")

Jack Favell is a blaggard, plain and simple. As Rebecca's disreputable cousin (and Mrs. Danvers' partner in psychological crime), Sanders is a charmer with a capital "C". Joan Fontaine knows he's bad, but he sure seems nice - and much more fun than stuffy Maxim De Winter. She doesn't close the door in his face, even though she knows she should, and neither would any of us because you just know he'd never, ever be a bore. And besides, he was right, wasn't he?

Addison DeWitt ("All About Eve")

Addison DeWitt is probably one of the best written and best performed characters in the history of film. That's a pretty strong statement, but I stand behind it. George Sanders is perfection as the acid-tongued theater critic who knows all the players and all the angles and who has Eve Harrington's number right from the start. Sardonic and suave, I can't imagine any other actor who could do justice to Addison DeWitt. With a love of self that cannot be trumped by any feminine wiles, he is the perfect dinner guest and the most deadly of enemies. For his brilliant work he was awarded the 1950 Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor.


The one Sanders role I long to see is his performance in "The Private Affairs of Bel Ami." As a rogue who climbs over a series of women to attain social prominence, it seems to be the ultimate George Sanders role (and Ann Dvorak is in it, too!). It is on VHS, but since my VCR melted long ago, I'll have to wait and hope it is either released on DVD or TCM decides to show it.


George Sanders' career lasted into the 1970s. Not only was he Hollywood's premier rogue ("The Ghost and Mrs. Muir" and "The Picture of Dorian Gray" are two other good examples), he was also Simon Templar of "The Saint" series.


Sanders personal life seemed to have mirrored his movie portrayals. Married four times (once to Zsa Zsa Gabor, once to Magda Gabor - I guess he liked the Gabor sisters), he titled his witty autobiography "Memoirs of a Professional Cad." In his later years, alcoholism and ill health eroded his will to live and, in 1972 he committed suicide, leaving behind these famous "last words" that could easily have been penned by Addison DeWitt: 

Dear World, I am leaving because I am bored. I feel I have lived long enough. I am leaving you with your worries in this sweet cesspool. Good luck.

Coming in February: Miriam Hopkins and Warren William.

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