Sunday, May 8, 2016

The Film That Got Away: George Cukor's A Star Is Born (1954)


In his time, George Cukor was one of cinema's best, unsung craftsman. Specializing in comedy, Cukor's skill with a dramatic story was somewhat overlooked. But the best of Cukor's comedies have dramatic undercurrents and characters. Consider Lew Ayres' Ned, the alcoholic brother of free spirit--and family black sheep--Katharine Hepburn in Holiday; or the relationship entanglements of The Philadelphia Story's main characters. A brief list of Cukor's serious films reveal some of the best dramas of classic cinema: the 1933 version Little Women, also starring Katharine Hepburn; the 1936 adaptation of Romeo and Juliet; 1944's Gaslight; 1947's A Double Life, which included an Oscar-winning turn by Ronald Colman.

Early in his career Cukor directed a drama at RKO Studios for studio chief David O. Selznick that told the soon-to-be-classic Hollywood story of Mary Evans, a young woman desperate to break into the movies. One night at her waitressing job, she waits on big-time film director, Max Carey. The two become friends, and the young woman is put through a crash course on Movie Stardom 101 circa 1932. She experiences a lot of life, marrying, having a baby, separating and reconciling with her husband, all while best friend Max, who has a massive drinking problem, becomes increasingly disenchanted with his life in the limelight. Max takes drastic measures after she posts his bail (on an Oscar night when she's collected the Best Actress award, no less) when he's jailed on a drunk driving charge. The film, called What Price Hollywood? served as an outline for three versions of the story that followed. That story was A Star Is Born.

Title card from the 1937 version


Produced independently by David Selznick, the first "official" version of the story, 1937's A Star Is Born, laid the ground work for the two versions that followed, changing a few things from What Price Hollywood?. One was the elimination of the 1932 movie's main character, film director Max Carey. Max's more compelling characteristics--drinking, boredom, humor, ennui--were made facets of the new male lead character, dashing matinee idol actor, Norman Maine. Mary Evans, the young woman from the 1932 story became wide-eyed, innocent Vicki Lester from the Midwest. Through various plot twists, Norman Maine and Vicki Lester meet and fall in love, with Vicki's new film career blossoming while Norman's is dying on the cinematic vine, thus increasing his affection for body- and mind-numbing substances. The ending, similar to What Price, is tragic. A huge hit in its day, the 1937 Star Is Born played the wife-on-way-up female character against the I-was-good-once-and-I-love-you-but-now-I'm-too-pissed-to-care male angst.

German poster art for 1954's A Star Is Born


The 1954 take on A Star Is Born put the "big" in big screen entertainment. Using the new widescreen process called CinemaScope, this version included musical numbers, tailor made for its star, Judy Garland. And it was Garland and her new production company (run by her third husband, Sid Luft) that served as the impetus for putting this version of the story in front of the cameras.

While no doubt existed about who would play the female lead, early on the very important male lead was offered to several legendary actors, including some fascinating possibilities like Humphrey Bogart, Frank Sinatra, and Cary Grant. Grant--Cukor's first choice--read at the director's home, and Cukor claimed that the reading was nothing short of outstanding; however, Grant steadfastly said no. Cukor, according to Ronald Haver's book on the film's production, wasn't surprised. Grant, he knew, would never "expose himself" on screen like that. Eventually, Cary Grant-esque British actor, James Mason, was awarded the difficult job of giving Norman Maine another chance in Hollywood. Frederic March played Maine as a sort of happy drunk in the 1937 version of the story. Mason's take on the character would be much darker, with a rough, masochistic edge.

James Mason played Norman with a fascinating quality of danger. This Norman Maine is devotedly self destructive, charming yet angry. Minutes after his introduction, he is blind drunk at a very public event, pushing a member of the press through a mirror. As good as Fredric March's Maine is, Mason is so much the better, adding more subtlety and incredible sensitivity. The contrast between the two actors is never more evident that in the scene where the studio boss (played in this version by Charles Bickford) visits Norman in an alcoholic sanitarium. 1937's version plays the scene somewhat light; 1954's is much more somber with the humor of the scene emerging slowly, dryly, sardonically.

Garland-larger than life-lamenting the man that got away.


Judy's Esther Blodgett ("Vicki Lester" is her studio-imposed name, a nice echo of Frances Gumm, who came to Hollywood and became "Judy Garland") is also different from the earlier version. Garland's Esther is no wide-eyed innocent fresh in town from Minnesota. Though not jaded like Norman Maine, this Esther is singing with a band that travels the country. Indeed, with Garland as one of the leads, a musical element was inevitable. Seven musical numbers made the final cut for the film, including a new song by peerless songwriters Ira Gershwin and Harold Arlen, "The Man That Got Away," which was nominated for a Best Song Oscar (somehow losing to the theme from Three Coins in the Fountain) and went on to be a classic.

 The lovely Lola Lavery at the Shrine Auditorium. 
That's studio chief Oliver Niles (Charles Bickford) on the left.

Throughout 1954's A Star Is Born, George Cukor's touch is evident. Attuned to his actors, Cukor's guidance of the cast, particularly the two leads, yields some of the best performances of any of his films. A more surprising aspect of the film is the visual scheme. Prior to A Star is Born, Cukor's visual sense was secondary to the performances. This film changed that. In this, his first widescreen feature, Cukor hired visual and color consultants, Gene Allen and George Hoyningen Huene who became important collaborators on almost all of Cukor's subsequent color films.

Norman, listening to Esther singing, makes the big decision to go for a swim.

After nine months of on/off production and a price tag of $5 million (about 45 million in 2015 dollars),  A Star Is Born's premiere was set for September 29, 1954, at the Pantages Theatre in Hollywood. It was a truly spectacular event, attended by Frank Sinatra, Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, Joan Crawford, Groucho Marx, and Clark Gable, as well as a young actor as yet unknown to movie audiences named James Dean. Co-star Jack Carson emceed until a late George Jessel took over the proceedings. Studio chief Jack Warner paid the bills for it all, including a to-die-for post-premiere party at the Cocoanut Grove. Garland and Carson were the only cast members in attendance that night (fascinating footage of the premiere and the post-premiere party is available on the film's DVD and blu-ray discs as well as YouTube). James Mason was a no-show due to his dislike of "that premiere nonsense." Director Cukor was off on location in India, filming Bhowani Junction with Ava Gardner. The New York opening was reportedly even more spectacular.

Frank, Betty Bacall, Judy, and Bogie announce their arrival at
the fabled Cocoanut Grove after party.

The reviews were good, especially for the two leads. Mason and Garland both landed Oscar nominations, two of six the movie received. Also nominated were the film's art direction, costume design, song, and musical score. While none took home the award, Judy was the front runner going into the ceremony. About to give birth to her third child, Joey, Garland was in the hospital. News crews were all set up, anticipating a Garland victory. When presenter William Holden opened the envelope and named Grace Kelly Best Actress, the news crew quietly left. Groucho Marx called Kelly's victory "the greatest robbery since Brink's." (In light of the justified praise for Garland's performance, James Mason's terrific portrayal of the lost Norman Maine tends to go overlooked. It shouldn't.)

In spite of the positive attention, the film had a kind of jinx on it from the beginning of production through theatrical bookings. Audiences were initially enthusiastic and business brisk. But due to its 182-minute length, exhibitors had the same complaint--theaters couldn't fit as many showings into a day as they could with more standard length movies. The decision makers at Warner Bros. decided "excess" footage had to be scrapped, resulting in a 154-minute version that most folks, like me, saw on television for many years after the film's release. The cuts broke Cukor's heart.

If memory serves I first saw this fable of Hollywood on KHJ-TV Channel 9, an independent TV station from Los Angeles, about 95 miles south of my hometown. It was New Year's Eve--no school the next day--and my folks were out for the holiday, so my older sister, Debbi, and I watched this chestnut of a film. I'm not certain of the year, but I think it was 1971, which means that I was 12 and  Debbi 15. That sounds about right. (I cannot say enough about my older sister and the culture she introduced me to at a young age. Maybe one day I'll devote an entire entry to that special person.)

The 154-minute version was the only one projected until Ronald Haver--film curator at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art--did his best Philip Marlowe and dug deep in the Warner Bros. film and music archives, turning up footage not seen since 1954. Haver eventually discovered enough footage of the film to justify funding the recovery, restoration, and rediscovery of this transfixing film. Ultimately, the restoration lacked only about six minutes of missing visual information. Since Haver recovered the film's entire soundtrack, those visuals were replaced with existing still photos from the missing scenes with the recorded dialog played over the stills. Upon release of the completed restoration, I believed the 182-minute version to be a blessing handed down from the cinematic gods. Time and consideration, however, has allowed me a little more objectivity, and I can't say that I'm as sold on the complete film as I used to be. The film never ceases to entertain and move me, though. It remains an all-time favorite.

Another photo op at the post-premiere party.
This time Marlene Dietrich snuggles up to star of the night, Judy Garland. 

I woke the day after I saw A Star Is Born for the first time and read that Peter Duell, the star of the television western, Alias Smith and Jones, had supposedly killed himself with a gun the night before. This news, on top of the tragic movie I had seen just the previous night, jolted me out of my 12-year-old world. I began to wonder if movies--and Hollywood by extension--had a special, hidden portal, one that not all can access, even when it's right in front of them. I fell for the myth of Tinseltown, suddenly and abruptly. From then on, movies were a major part of my life. Within two years I was taking baby steps into the wonderful, mysterious, unique, specialized, informal, obsessive world of a cinephile. Westerns, noir, musicals, screwball comedies, Broadway adaptations, action, adventure, silents, grind house, classics. The year doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if a movie is five years old or fifty years old; if you've never seen it, it's new. A Star is Born is one of the first movies that introduced me to this obsession. Since then I have watched the movie more times than I can count, mostly on television and once, in the early Eighties, on the big screen in a double bill with South Pacific. Though it was pre-restoration, it looked fine to me in the friendly confines of the Arlington Theatre. (Note that 1976 saw remake number two, starring Barbra Streisand and Kris Kristofferson. The music was well received, and Streisand herself would share the Best Song Oscar with Paul Williams, but the film was a shallow rendering of the classic story.)

Upon its 1983 restoration, A Star Is Born had roadshow-like showings in theaters around the country. Unfortunately, George Cukor never saw the result of Ronald Haver's hard work. The night before Haver was to show Cukor the restored version, the director died in his sleep. He was 83. In recent years another remake, rumored to be starring Beyonce, has been in the works, though no definitive start date has been named. Honestly, I hope the film never gets made. A Star is Born will always occupy a large place in my cinematic heart, ticking at 24 beats per second.



Sources:
A Star Is Born: The making of the 1954 movie and it's 1983 restoration by Ronald Haver
IMDB
Wikipedia Pages: A Star Is Born, George Cukor
A Star Is Born (DVD, Warner Bros., 2000)