Showing posts with label Claudette Colbert. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Claudette Colbert. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 12, 2023

The Fabulous Frenchman in the Boater Hat

Maurice Chevalier, despite the aristocratic connotations of his last name, made in inauspicious bow in Paris on September 12, 1888, the son of a house painter, considered a low trade, and a Franco-Belgian beauty.  He grew up little more than a street urchin with little formal schooling.

By 1901, at the age of 13 he was singing for tips in a café which eventually led to small parts in theatrical productions.  But through his teens he supported himself mostly with a parade of jobs—carpenters apprentice, electrician, printer, and doll painter.

In the first a series of relationships with important women, the handsome young man attracted the attention of Fréhel, a leading star of the Paris stage in 1909.  Like him she had come from the Paris streets to fame as a music hall performer.  Their relationship was tempestuous, due in no small part to her serious alcoholism, but during their brief affair she used her influence to get Chevalier a star shot as a singer and mimic at l’Alcazar in Marseille.

Chevalier as a World War I French Poilu --wounded, held as a prisoner of war, and decorated.

Sensational notices in the south brought him back to Paris where he was soon staring in the Folies Bergère.   In 1911 he abruptly cut off his relationship with Fréhel, causing her to attempt suicide.  He took up with his dance partner and a major star of the Folies, 36-year-old Mistinguett.  They had a very public love affair, and she advanced his career—and as we shall see, may have saved his life.

After success on the stage and as a recording artist—and less success in a few silent films, Chevalier was called into national service shortly before World War I broke out in 1914.  Stationed at the front from the beginning of serious hostilities, he was severely wounded in the back by shrapnel and was captured by the Germans and held as a prisoner of war.  While there he undertook the study of English from British POWs and became quite fluent.

In 1916 Mistinguett prevailed upon her admirer—and probable lover—King Alfonso XIII of Spain, to intercede with his cousin Kaiser Wilhelm II to release Chevalier.  And in good time, too, because conditions in the camps deteriorated badly as the war dragged on and many died there.

Back in Paris Mistinguett secured him a spot in her current show at the prestigious Casino de Paris in 1917.  By this time, he had perfected his wry but suave stage persona with a straw boater hat tilted rakishly over one eye.  His star turn at the casino attracted big audiences not only among Parisians, but among the huge numbers of British and American troops flooding the city.  Although he sang in French, he was able to banter charmingly in English, which opened up new possibilities.

He was booked in London where he had huge success at the Palace Theatre.  While in England, he was exposed for the first time to American jazz, just introduced there by the Original Dixieland Jass Band, which deeply influenced his own singing style, something that deepened as Black musicians began performing in Paris soon after.

Back in Paris, Chevalier impressed visiting American screen idol Douglas Fairbanks in 1920 who tried to sign him for Four Stars Pictures to work opposite his wife, Mary Pickford.  But Chevalier, who’s French films had not been successful, did not believe he was suitable for silent film.

In 1920 he appeared—and nearly stole the show—as the second lead in the operetta Dédé.  When the show was picked up for Broadway, Chevalier was able to make his American debut in 1922, which he followed up with successful appearances in revues.  He was creating many of his memorable song and dance performances, including such signature hits as Valentine.

The advent of talking pictures in 1928 proved to be Chevalier’s breakthrough in film.  Paramount Pictures, eager to catch up with first-out-of-the-gate Warner Bros., looked for established musical stars.  The handsome Frenchman fit the bill perfectly.  Arriving in Hollywood with a new wife, dancer Yvonne Vallée, he went to work.

Sheet music for Chevalier's signature song Louise from his first American sound film Innocents of Paris.

Paramount released its first musical, Innocents of Paris starring Chevalier in 1929.  Like most early musicals, encumbered by a camera that had to be kept in a sealed room because of its own noise, the film was somewhat flat and static.  But Chevalier was sensational in his performance of the instant classic Louise.

In 1929 he appeared for the first time with Jeanette McDonald in The Love Parade despite the fact that the insecure star was convinced he could not portray a member of a royal court.  In fact, the hit saved the studio which was on the brink of collapse after the Stock Market Crash and earned Chevalier an Academy Award nomination for Best Actor.

Chevalier in Love Parade.  He was insecure playing an officer and aristocrat instead of his usual happy-go-lucky working class Parisian.

By the following year he was the biggest star on the Paramount lot, and some say the highest paid actor in films.  The Big Pond that year teamed him with Claudette Colbert in a light romantic comedy which featured hit songs, Livin in the Sunlight, Lovin in the Moonlight and A New Kind of Love, often called the Nightingale Song.  Chevalier received another Oscar nomination for the part.  He was also part of an all-star revue film, Paramount on Parade.

These films, and ones to follow, were simultaneously shot in French for release in Europe

An illustration of just how iconic Chevalier had become in a short time, was a scene in the Marx Brothers classic Monkey Business in 1931.  Harpo, Chico, and Groucho, stowaways on an ocean liner, each try to sneak past immigration with Chevaliers’ stolen passport, each trying to prove he is the star by performing a famous snatch of A New Kind of Love—“If the nightingales could sing like you….”

Despite his success, his humble and impoverished origins caused some quirky behavior.  He was notoriously cheap, refusing to pay a dime a day parking fee on the Paramount lot.  When offered the customary cigarette, a polite custom of the time, he would take two or three and stuff them in his pocket.  He was also a poor tipper on his rounds of nightclubs with young dancers and actresses.  Despite his marriage, he was notoriously on the prowl.  Chevalier was very insecure about his humble origins and lack of a good education.  He relied on fellow French stars Charles Boyer and Adolph Menjou, both well-bred men of sophisticated taste, for tips on art, literature, and culture.

Musicals had briefly gone out of fashion in 1931 when the studio re-united Chevalier with Colbert and with Miriam Hopkins in The Smiling Lieutenant.  It was his third hit film for director Ernst Lubitsch and Paramount’s biggest grossing picture of the year.

Before Nelson Eddy, Chevalier was Jeanette MacDonald's first leading man despite his casual, almost talkative style singing contrasting with her operatic voice.

He was then reteamed with rising star McDonald in three more huge hit musicals, One Hour With You, Love Me Tonight, and the Franz Lehár operetta The Merry Widow.  In the second of those films, songwriters Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart for the first time integrated the music to advance the plot.

Despite these successes, Chevalier got into a salary dispute with Paramount bosses and bolted the studio for rival MGM in 1935.  But MGM did not seem interested him for American releases.  Instead he was sent back to France to make films in French for the European market.  In 1936 working again with McDonald he made La veuve joyeuse with Lubitsch directing. 

They loaned him to Columbia Pictures for Folies Bergère de Paris with Merle Oberon and Ann Sothern, produced in English and French Versions—the French version including the famous topless dancers of the revue.

Chevalier’s star power in Hollywood was fading, but still strong in Europe.  In ’37 he starred in a British release, The Beloved Vagabond.  He continued to make films in France for the rest of the decade, some of which were in limited release in the US in English versions, but none were successful.  The same year he married in Paris for a second time to another dancer, Nita Raya.

None the less, Chevalier remained a major star and returned with great success to the Paris stage.

Chevalier with a French officer held in a German POW camp in 1940--the same camp where he was a prisoner.  His social connections with German officers in Paris facilitated the visit and fueled rumors that he was a collaborator.  He left the camp with 15 men paroled personally to him.

His career, however, ominously collided with the outbreak of World War II, resulting in an almost fatal blow to his American reputation.  Chevalier stayed in Paris during the German occupation starring again at the Casino de Paris in the revue Bonjour Paris.  Just as American and British troops were a big part of his audience in 1917, Germans crowded his performances in 1940 and ’41.  He was invited—virtually ordered—to appear in Berlin, but he constantly declined.  He did get permission to entertain at the very same prisoner of war camp where he had once been held and, turning on his noted charm, managed to leave with 10 POWs released into his custody.

Despite this, Chevalier never used his popularity with German officers in Paris, who he saw socially, to mine for intelligence information like Collette and other famous figures or to become active in the Resistance like Josephine Baker.  He tried to remain neutral.  But that became more and more difficult and in 1942 he left Paris and performing for a period as a near recluse near Cannes.

After liberation, he joined in street celebrations in Paris, and also participated in some Communist street rallies.  He was charged with collaboration in 1944, which was widely publicized in the US.  Not widely publicized was that he was cleared of all charges.

With his ability to tour in the US and Britain damaged not only by the lingering suspicions of collaboration, but by McCarthy Era anti-communist hysteria, Chevalier spent several years working on his autobiography in hopes to clear his name.

Splitting from Ray in 1946, he also cultivated an interest in painting and the arts, always trying to climb out of his origins in the Paris gutter.

Just when the first ever official Friars Club Roast was held in his honor making it seem like he might regain ground in America, his appearance at the Stockholm Appeal concert, a Communist organized protest to nuclear arms in 1949 resulted in his visa to visit the US being revoked.

Despite continuing to tour elsewhere, Chevalier was considering retirement and bought a comfortable estate in Paris.  He began a long-time relationship with Janie Michels, a young divorcee with three children. 

With McCarthyism fading, his visa was restored in 1954 and the next year Chevalier launched a successful US tour, mostly working in the most elegant nightclubs.  Revived interest in his career convinced screenwriter/director Billy Wilder to cast him as Audrey Hepburn’s father, a small but meaty dramatic role, in Love in the Afternoon.  The 1957 film was his first American production in 20 years.

The highlight of Chevalier's revived film career was in GiGi where he played an older Boulevardier.  He opened the film with this number, Thank Heaven for Little Girls.

It was followed by a hugely successful second film career as an elderly man, notably in Gigi, 1958 with Leslie Caron.  The Motion Picture Academy presented him with an Honorary Oscar in recognition of his whole film career as a result.

Chevalier also appeared in Can-Can with Frank Sinatra, the romantic drama Fanny with Caron and his old Hollywood friend Charles Boyer, Panic Button with Jayne Mansfield and three other U.S films.  In between he toured tirelessly in the US, Latin America, and Europe.

But he was slowing down.  After a farewell American tour in 1969, he retired.  Disney songwriters Richard M. and Robert B. Sherman lured him into the studio one more time to record the theme for The Aristocats, his final contribution to the film industry.

Chevalier died in Paris on January 1, 1972 at the age of 83.

 


 

Saturday, March 5, 2022

Fredi Washington—A Star Who Refused to Pass for White

                                                   Fredi Washington could have passed for White but wouldn't.

Fredi Washington wowed audiences in the first version of Imitation of Life released in 1934 by Universal Pictures.  Starring Claudette Colbert, Louise Beavers, Warren William, and Rochelle Hudson, Washington didn’t make the cut in movie posters released for most theaters and was billed sixth despite playing a pivotal role.  Adapted from Fannie Hurst’s bestselling novel the film was a melodrama about the plight of working and single mothers during the Depression, deep friendship between a White widow and a Black mother, and the harsh realities of race in segregated America.  Washington played Peola, the daughter of Beavers who comes to work as a maid for Colbert in exchange for room and board.  She is the same age as Colbert’s daughter and they grow up together in a household where the mistress and servant essentially co-parent both girls.

As they come of age the light skin Peola decides to pass for White to enter the world of virtual sibling.  It both breaks her mother’s heart and leads to inevitable tragedy when her ruse is uncovered.  In 1934 it was a daring and controversial film that treated all of its characters with dignity and respect.

A lobby card for Black theaters only featured the Black stars of Imitation of Life in 1934.

Knowing that the theme would cost distribution in the Jim Crow South and even in many Northern cities, Universal hoped to recoup some of its losses by launching an unprecedented major studio campaign to sell the film to Black audiences in segregated theaters.  Posters prominently featuring Beavers and Washington were printed and a special trailer just for the Black cinemas was shot.  It worked.  African-American audiences flocked to see the film.

Ironically although Washington played a young woman passing for White, she adamantly refused to do so in real life and it cost her career dearly.  She was stung not only by White racism but by the fact that many Blacks thought that she like Peola rejected her people and resented her for it.  Years later she told the Chicago Defender in 1945:

Early in my career it was suggested that I might get further by passing as French or something exotic. But to pass, for economic or other advantages, would have meant that I swallowed, whole hog, the idea of Black inferiority…You see I’m a mighty proud gal, and I can’t for the life of me find any valid reason why anyone should lie about their origin, or anything else for that matter. Frankly, I do not ascribe to the stupid theory of white supremacy and to try to hide the fact that I am a Negro for economic or any other reasons. If I do, I would be agreeing to be a Negro makes me inferior and that I have swallowed whole hog all of the propaganda dished out by our fascist-minded white citizens.

She was not one to mince her words or pull her punches.

Washington was a stunning young woman with green eyes, delicate—read non-Negroid—features, and a creamy complexion.  She was also a veteran performer and a highly skilled dancer, singer, and actress who should have had all the attributes for a major Hollywood career.  But it was not to be.

An early photograph of the Washington family children. From left to right: Fredi,  Alonso, Isabel and Robert.

Fredericka Carolyn “Fredi” Washington was born in 1903 in Savannah, Georgia, to postal worker Robert T. Washington and dancer Harriet “Hattie” Walker Ward.  Both had mixed African-American and European ancestry. She was the second of their five children. Her mother died when Fredi was 11 years old. As the oldest girl in her family, she helped raise her younger siblings, Isabel, Rosebud, and Robert, with the help of their grandmother. After their mother’s death, Fredi and Isabel were sent to the St. Elizabeth’s Convent School for Colored Girls in Cornwells Heights, near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  Her father remarried, but his second wife died while pregnant. He married a third time and had four additional children.

Washington’s family moved north to Harlem in New York City during the Great Migration. He graduated from Julia Richman High School.   It was the blooming era of the Harlem Renaissance and presented many opportunities to the talented young woman and led her to cross paths with many of its outstanding performers.

By age 18 in 1921 Fredi was dancing at the famed Cotton Club where Josephine Baker discovered her and hired her to be part of a cabaret trio, the Happy Honeysuckles.  Baker continued to mentor the young performer and introduced he to important people in the entertainment industry like producer Lee Shubert. She broke into Broadway in the all-Black musical Shuffle Along in 1922 as a chorus girl and toured with the road show for two years. Her film debut came that same year in the all-Black boxing drama Square Joe the same year. In 1926, she was recommended for a co-starring role on Broadway with Paul Robeson in the play, Black Boy.  Washington had an off and on relationship with Robeson for several years.  She also became a popular, featured dancer, and toured internationally with her dancing partner, Al Moiret.

                                    The poster for Black and Tan Fantasy starring Duke Ellington and Fredi Washington.

In 1929 Washington made her talkie debut in Black and Tan Fantasy, an early two reel sound short with Duke Ellington as the doomed dancer wife of the struggling band leader.  She toured with Ellington’s Orchestra and had an affair with the married maestro.  She had a small uncredited role in the Marx Brother’s first film Animal Crackers in 1930.

In 1933 she teamed with Robeson again in a small role in the film version of Eugene O’Neill’s Emperor Jones in which her skin was darkened with makeup for fear that audiences might think Robeson was actually filming love scenes with a White woman.  Another significant appearance was with Cab Calloway who she had known since her Cotton Club days in his classic musical short Hi-De-Ho in 1934.

Washington's skin had to be darkened in the film version of Emperor Jones so audiences wouldn't think that Paul Robeson was romancing a White woman.

Washington wanted to expand her film acting career but was crippled by her complexion which was too light for the cheaply made films for Black theaters.  Several important Hollywood figures reportedly offered to make her a star equal to or greater than Norma Shearer, Joan Crawford, Constance Bennett, and Greta Garbo if she would assume a new name and identity and pass as White.  She flatly refused.

The part in Imitation of Life was her big break.  But it also outed her a Black and typed her as “the tragic mulatto.”  Parts were hard to find.  She did land a staring role as a vengeful Black Haitian plantation owner in the extremely low budget zombie exploitation flick Ouanga (also known as The Love Wanga) in 1936.

                                    The lurid poster for the low-budget zombie film Ouanga (also known as The Love Wanga) in 1936.

Washington got one more chance to shine in Hollywood in 20th Century Fox’s 1937 film One Mile from Heaven starring Clair Trevor as a nosey newspaper woman who investigates why an octoroon mother is raising an apparently white child.  The part of the child was originally written for Shirley Temple, but the studio shied from risking their biggest asset in such a potentially explosive film.  Washington, of course was the target of the investigation.  The film also featured Bill “Bojangles” Robbinson.  After that Fredi’s movie career was over.

With Ethel Waters on Broadway in 1939 in DuBose Heyward's Mamba’s Daughters with music by Jerome Kern.

But not her acting career.  In 1939 DuBose Heyward, the author of the book George Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess was based on, adapted another one of his slice-of-life novels about the racial complexity of his hometown, Charleston, South Carolina into a play with his wife Dorothy.  Mamba’s Daughters was mounted on Broadway as a star turn for Ethel Waters.  Washington co-starred as the light skinned daughter.  The play featured songs by Jerome Kern and opened at the Empire Theater running for 162 performances.  In 1940 it had a brief revival at the Broadway Theater. Significantly Washington was one of the original cast members who performed selections from the musical on the ground-breaking Ethel Waters Show, one-hour television variety special that ran in the earliest days of NBC, on June 14, 1939.  That experimental broadcast to the handful of TV sets in New York made Waters the first Black performer, male or female, to have her own TV show.

Later in the 1940’s Washington appeared with her sister Isabel as a featured dancer in some New York productions and was a casting consultant for the 1943 production of Carmen Jones and a revival of Porgy and Bess.

Despite her affairs with Ellington and Robeson (and perhaps others) Washington married Lawrence Brown, one of Duke’s trombone players in 1933. They divorced in 1951.  A year later she married dentist Dr. Hugh Anthony Bell and retired from performing to live in Greenwich, Connecticut.

                Fredi Washington campaigning against lynching for the NAACP.

But Washington’s greatest contributions may have come from her tireless devotion to Civil Rights work.  In the 1930’s she worked closely with Walter White of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) on a variety of causes but especially on anti-lynching campaigns.  In 1937 Washington co-founded the Negro Actors Guild of America (NAG), with Noble Sissle, rag-time composer W. C. Handy, Robeson, and Waters. The organization’s mission included speaking out against stereotyping and advocating for a wider range of roles.  She served as the organization’s first executive secretary.

Washington had a dramatic role in Heroines in Bronze, a 1943 radio tribute to Black women, produced by the National Urban League.

Fredi, front, on the shore with Rev. Adam Clayton Powell, Jr. and his wife Isabell, Fredi's sister.

Partnering with sister Isabel’s husband, Harlem preacher Rev. Adam Clayton Powell, Jr. of the Abyssinian Baptist Church, brought Fredi new opportunities.  In 1943 she joined his new newspaper People’s Voice which soon became the most influential Black paper in New York and a powerful advocate for Civil Rights and a progressive agenda.  Powell used the paper to project his opinions and make him the undisputed political king of Harlem.  Washington was a theater writer, and the entertainment editor for People’s Voice and contributed other articles and opinion pieces.  In 1944 Powell was elected to Congress in no small part due to the influence of the journal.  In 1945 Powell divorced Isabel and married glamorous pianist and singer Hazel Scott.

Fredi in retirement with her second husband, dentist Dr. Hugh Anthony Bell from a local Connecticut newspaper's society page in the 1950's.

As for Fredi, she enjoyed a comfortable retirement in Connecticut until she died at age 90 on June 28, 1994 from pneumonia following a series of strokes at St. Joseph Medical Center in Stamford, Connecticut.  She was forgotten by White audiences who barely knew her and even by the many African-American performers for whom she blazed a brave trail.