Living With Miss G by Mearene Jordan Read Free Book Online

next film, One Touch of Venus , was supposed to be a light-hearted
comedy, but for both of us, it held a share of tragedy. Miss G played in four
movies during this period, and three out of that four were produced by
Universal.
In this case they were quick to recognize Miss G’s potential as a
comedienne. Anyone who knew her recognized that she had a great sense of
humor, a quick wit, followed by a noisy, joyful stream of laughter, and most
importantly when needed, a wonderful wide-eyed air of innocence.
One Touch of Venus started light and achieved success as a bright and
decorative musical, but as very often happens, it never really came to life as a
rather contrived, hard-worked-for comedy. The basic idea was that a marble
statue of a beautiful young Greek goddess has been borrowed to aid the sales of
a store in a shopping mall. The young store manager, played by Robert Walker,
after a few drinks, stops to donate a kiss to the marble lips.
Oh, dear me! Through the tricks of expert cinematography, the statue
becomes human, falls in love with the manager, and then pursues him with fiery
love aided by magic endowed her by the ancient Greek gods from whom she
came.
Naturally, Greek statues looking exactly like Miss G were hard to come by,
so sculptor Joseph Nicolosi was commissioned to execute such a work. Miss G
was instructed to pose for him in his studio every day until it was completed.
Little difficulties arose. To start with, it was winter and it was cold, and
Miss G returned to our apartment after the first sitting with the breathless
reaction, “Jesus Christ, Rene, his studio’s freezing, and I’m supposed to pose in
a pair of shorts and a bra, and he’s not very happy with that.”
“With what?” I asked.
“Joe is sculpting a bare-breasted Greek maiden. They didn’t wear bras
back in those golden Greek days,” Miss G explained.
“Well, you’re very well-proportioned in that respect,” I said.
“Mama would turn in her grave if she thought I was being sculptured half
nude,” Miss G said.
I countered, “Mama’s not here, and actresses have to suffer for their art.
She’d have much more of a fright if she knew what you and Fred were getting
up to in that dressing room.”
Miss G had one of the most beautiful figures ever given to a woman. She
was, I know, quite shy about exhibiting it. This time common sense prevailed.
The topless figure, dress draped artistically over one shoulder, was completed
and dispatched to the studio.
Someone had made a mistake! Producers came in, looked, and took annual
leave. Executives were spellbound. Assistant directors, when their blood
pressure had found refuge in their ankles, screamed that this crazy sculptor had
been commissioned to sculpt a clothed figure – not a half-naked one!
The Hollywood Movie Censorship Board, called the Hays Office, would
raze Universal Studios to the ground. No one shouldered the blame. The statue
was shipped back to poor Joseph Nicolosi with the command that he produce
another statute with breasts covered.
At least by now the weather was warmer. That was the funny part.
The tragic part was Miss G’s co-star, Robert Walker. He was in his late
twenties and fast becoming an alcoholic, helped by several so-called buddies
who were also heavy drinkers. The reason for his heavy and consistent boozing
was that he was deeply in love with his wife, beautiful actress Jennifer Jones,
and now the marriage had fallen apart.
David O. Selznick, famous producer of Gone With the Wind , carried a lot
of weight in Hollywood in that period. He had become infatuated with Jennifer
Jones, and Jennifer had moved across. Robert Walker was heart-broken, and his
plight was driven home to Miss G and me in extremely poignant fashion.
Miss G was very fond of Walker. There was no question of any affair
between them. She felt motherly towards the poor lad, and on occasions,
knowing that he was likely to be picked up by his drunken friends and arrive at
the