Mark Griffin by A Hundred or More Hidden Things: The Life, Films of Vincente Minnelli Read Free Book Online Page B

confines of Culver City seemed to work wonders
for Garland as she interacted with adoring fans on the street, organized a search for Minnelli’s “neurotic” poodle, experienced live theater, and attempted a new beginning. “Judy gave me a cherished gift—a silent promise,” Vincente remembered. “We were walking in a park by the river. ‘Hold my hand,’ she said softly. I did. It was then that I noticed a vial of pills in her other hand. . . . She threw the pills in the East River. She said she was through with them. But the minute we got back [to Hollywood], anything that would happen at the studio, she would take the pills.” 8

    IN THE MID-’40S, largely owing to the success of James Cagney’s spirited portrayal of George M. Cohan in Yankee Doodle Dandy , all-star musical bio - graphies of America’s top tunesmiths were suddenly hot properties, even if they weren’t entirely factual. Warner Brothers presented Cary Grant as a heterosexual Cole Porter in Night and Day , while Metro countered with Mickey Rooney as a heterosexual Lorenz Hart in Words and Music . When it came time to dramatize the life of Show Boat composer Jerome Kern in Till the Clouds Roll By , screenwriter Guy Bolton knew this posed something of a challenge. A confidant of Kern’s, Bolton stood in awe of his friend’s considerable talents, but he also knew that the songwriter’s private life wasn’t remotely cinematic.
    Though it was true that Kern had cheated death by not sailing on the ill-fated Lusitania (his alarm clock didn’t go off), most of the “biography” in the film was pure hokum—including Kern looking after the self-absorbed daughter of a fictional writing partner. To compensate for the lack of dramatic action, the film would be laced with continual references to the theatrical luminaries of the past—a sort of cinematic name-dropping. MGM’s stable of stars would portray some of these fabled legends of yesteryear.
    The role of Broadway’s Marilyn Miller was reserved for Metro’s even more beloved answer: Judy Garland. While June Allyson, Lena Horne, and Angela Lansbury would have to make do with dance director Robert Alton, ad Garland’s sequences were entrusted to Minnelli, now considered Judy’s own personal auteur. Of course, Vincente was well versed in the legend of Marilyn Miller, and he was eager to re-create some of her best-loved numbers—including “Look for the Silver Lining” and “Who?”—on screen. In 1925, Miller had one of her greatest successes with Sunny , the saga of a circus bareback rider. The stage show was fondly remembered for its splashy, big-top setting. MGM,
of course, was expected to outdo the original production, and Minnelli’s Technicolored circus made Barnum and Bailey look positively sedate.
    At one point, the script indicated that during the Sunny sequence, Judy was to hurl herself onto the back of a prancing show pony. Obviously, the services of a stunt double would be required, not only because of the risky acrobatic maneuvers involved but also because several months earlier, Judy had discovered that she was pregnant. At age forty-two, Vincente was about to become a father. There was no time to celebrate, as the pressure was on to speed through Garland’s numbers (in a mere two weeks) before the star became too visibly expectant to photograph.
    Originally, the Sunny episode was to have included Judy’s rendition of Kern’s winsome “D’Ya Love Me?” Despite Garland’s heartfelt delivery, the number was deleted from the release print of Clouds —and it’s a good thing. The surviving footage reveals an oddly uninspired and barely choreographed number. Flanked by a pair of listless clowns, Garland looks uncharacteristically ill at ease. Her comedic grimace when the playback concludes speaks volumes.
    In sharp contrast, the mounting of the buoyant “Who?” was a cinematic bull’s eye. Minnelli encircles Garland, who is gowned in vibrant canary yellow, with a bevy