I want to look at five actors whose names aren’t as familiar, but who have a few things in common: They were all very good-looking; they grew from pretty boys into more manly screen personas; they migrated into the ubiquitous cowboy mold of the 1950s; and they ended their careers in mostly low-grade movies that seemed to underscore that their taciturn, rugged style had gone out of fashion. Their individual, personal stories are likely far more interesting than anything I can say about them here, but I wanted to shine a light on their handsome faces and give a snapshot on their careers once again.
John Payne
With his dimpled chin, ready smile, and affable persona, John Payne was as non-threatening as you could get in the films of the ‘30s and early ‘40s. He was cast in a succession of bright musicals co-starring Alice Faye, Betty Grable, and Sonja Henie. Titles like “Sun Valley Serenade,” “Week-End in Havana” and “Springtime in the Rockies” indicate their escapist nature.He served in the war, and like many handsome young actors of the era, he came back older, a little worn, and ready to appear in meatier material. But while he was part of an exemplary cast in the 1946 adaptation of Somerset Maugham’s “The Razor’s Edge,” perhaps his most lasting film is the perennial Christmas classic, 1947's “Miracle on 34th Street,” in which he plays the stalwart lawyer who proves that Kris Kringle is the real Santa Claus.
The 1950s saw Payne starring mostly in B movies, some of which were actually quite good. The film noir “99 River Street” (1953) indicates he was a really strong actor who simply never reached the level of some of the bigger stars of his era. The remainder of the decade for Payne was dotted with a succession of serviceable but ultimately forgettable crime dramas, adventures, and westerns. In addition to plenty of TV work, guy-next-door Payne made just two films in the 1960s, including the low-budget “They Ran for Their Lives” in 1968 – his cinematic swan song. Payne's daughter Julie went on to work in films briefly, mostly int the 1960s. Payne seemed content with his glide from retirement into obscurity.
George Montgomery
During the war, he co-starred with America’s favorite pin-up girl, Betty Grable, in the lavish, nostalgic Technicolor musical “Coney Island.” He continued in more popular movies, but really made his mark in westerns. (Do you see a pattern to the men in this blog post?) The early 1950s saw him in westerns with titles like “The Iroquois Trail,” “The Texas Rangers,” and “Jack McCall, Desperado.” He parlayed his cowhand persona into television in 1958 in his own series, “Cimarron City.” Finding work in Hollywood sparse by the advent of the 1960s, he moved to Europe to make a series of low-budget crime dramas. He inexplicably played a drug lord in a little-seen, and very bad, anti-drug exploitation movie called “Hallucination Generation” in 1966. My guess is he needed the money to support what he truly loved: woodworking, furniture design, and bronze sculpture. The man was an artist beyond his movie career.
In 1997, my parents were in California and wandered into an art gallery. A renowned woodworker and sculptor, Montgomery was showing his furniture designs and bronze work. How neat it must have been for my parents to meet an actor they’d likely seen on screen when they were kids. I treasure the photo of the three of them posing in front of a couple large-scale photos from his films, and with one of his life-size bronze pieces. (You can see the picture below, along with a photo of his signed gallery exhibit brochure -- a prized possession.)
Guy Madison
But with time and training, Madison developed into a solid enough performer as he entered the 1950s. He starred in archetypal films of that decade that reflected both our pioneering western past (“The Last Frontier,” “Bullwhip”) and the space race of the future (“On the Threshold of Space,” “Jet Over the Atlantic”). He was bankable enough to be cast in "5 Against the House" opposite Kim Novak, who was one of the hottest female personalities of that decade.
Madison found his greatest popularity on TV in the western series “The Adventures of Wild Bill Hickok,” which ran from 1951-1958. When it ended, he did what a number of actors did as their Hollywood careers wound down – he went to Europe to make cheap Italian sword-and-sandal adventures and spy movies. Like George Montgomery, Madison also appeared in a trashy, so-called anti-drug movie; in Madison’s case, it was “LSD Flesh of Devil,” in 1967. I wonder if he knew what he was getting himself into with that one. The remainder of his career was dotted with nostalgic TV appearances, including “Fantasy Island” in 1979.
As minor as his film legacy may ultimately be, it says a lot about the man himself that his daughter maintains a touching web site devoted to her dad here. (I found it very sad to learn that his grandson died in Operation Iraqi Freedom in 2003. It reminded me that, regardless of their fame, past or present, these actors were real people with real families who have lived on, or died, beyond them.)
Dennis Morgan
Dennis Morgan got his start in tiny roles at MGM Studios. His single scene in the big-budget extravaganza “The Great Ziegfeld” (1936) had him atop a humongous wedding cake, wearing a tuxedo as he croons “A Pretty Girl is Like a Melody,” surrounded by, yes, dozens of pretty girls. (A very good tenor, his voice was nevertheless dubbed.)After a few bit roles here and there, Morgan finally made a dramatic impression as an unsympathetic socialite opposite Ginger Rogers in “Kitty Foyle” (1940). He made his mark, and soon moved over to Warner Brothers. In 1942’s “In This Our Life,” Bette Davis steals him from Olivia de Havilland. In “The Hard Way” (1943), one of Morgan’s co-stars was the affable Jack Carson; they made such a good team that they were cast together in a series of buddy comedies throughout the rest of the decade, with titles like “Two Guys from Milwaukee” and “Two Guys from Texas.” They were so familiar as a team that when they made “It's a Great Feeling” together in 1949, opposite up-and-comer Doris Day, they played themselves.
Maybe it’s the 1945 holiday movie “Christmas in Connecticut” for which Morgan is best remembered today. He didn’t have to stretch much to play an adorable soldier on leave who falls for Barbara Stanwyck. He sure looked good in that uniform, and it wasn't just Miss Stanwyck who was smitten. Throughout the 1940s, Morgan maintained his benign charm in a slew of other easy-to-take, easy-to-forget comedies, musicals, dramas, and even westerns, all of which helped comfort a nation in recovery after the war years. But starring parts became decreasingly available as he entered the 1950s. He moved into television and closed out his career in a small role in an obscure adventure called “Rogue’s Gallery” in 1968 before calling it quits. Happily retired, he made an appearance on “The Love Boat” at the end of the 1970s (like Guy Madison and so many other stars past their prime). In these rare appearances, he coasted on the nostalgia for his smiling, crooning persona, a vestige of a bygone era.
James Craig
Along with Dennis Morgan, he had a major part in 1940’s Ginger Rogers vehicle “Kitty Foyle,” and the next year he co-starred with the venerable Walter Huston in “The Devil and Daniel Webster.” (Huston played the devil.) This was a prestige film that helped cast him in the small-town wartime ensemble film “The Human Comedy” (1943). He followed these solid performances with a key role in the rustic, episodic “Our Vines Have Tender Grapes” (1945), which is notable for casting Edward G. Robinson against type as a sweet-natured Norwegian vineyard owner. All of these films are underappreciated minor classics. Craig presented a stalwart screen persona in all three films, indicating an actor to keep an eye on.
Craig's career throughout the '40s and '50s was peppered with the typical studio fare of the period, everything from westerns to romantic comedies. But by the early 1950s, like many of his peers (and some of the men in this blog post), he entered the world of television as a supporting actor. While he stayed busy throughout the '60s, the quality of his films decreased considerably. He found supporting roles in cheap westerns, but some of his final work was in terrible horror films made on shoestring budgets. For example, in "Venus Flytrap" his performance matches the awful production values. It's a flaccid coda to a once-promising career, especially in light of the fact that he was chosen as a "star of tomorrow" in 1944 -- a prediction that never quite came to pass. At the end of his career, Craig wisely moved on to something new -- becoming a successful real estate agent.
These five gentlemen all fit into the mold of the square-jawed leading man created by Hollywood. While none of them were great thespians, they all had the onscreen magnetism vital for making people take notice. Yet, each one was an approachable everyman despite their uncommon good looks. Their careers track the cultural transition from the conservative ‘40s and ‘50s to the tumultuous ‘60s.
Despite their inevitable career declines into rote westerns, "Love Boat" appearances and the like, each one conveyed charm and ease when they were at their cinematic peaks. It sure didn’t hurt that they looked great on screen. They may not be well known today, but they delivered some solid, enjoyable work that deserves to be remembered and appreciated.
The point here, I suppose, is that, even if these five men are no longer household names, and even if the totality of their filmic output is not significant on the level of, say, Cary Grant or Humphrey Bogart, their work remains -- even after they are long gone.
 |
| Mom and Dad with George Montgomery, actor and artist, in front of a few photos from his Hollywood days, and one of his remarkable western bronze sculptures. (This one may very well be of himself.) |
 |
| A portion of the cover of Montgomery's exhibit brochure -- signed to me by the man himself. "Best of luck." Thanks, Mr. Montgomery. (And thanks, Mom and Dad!) |
No comments:
Post a Comment