Carole & Co.

I've often described Carole Lombard as perhaps the most timeless of the classic Hollywood actresses. By that, I've generally been referring to her personality, her iconoclastic yet enthusiastic approach to life, her prototypical feminism, even her zest for sports.

But you could also make a good argument that Carole's timelessness extended to her looks, too. And a stunning example of that quality just emerged on eBay, an enthralling image I have never seen before.

Take a look:



If you didn't know any better, you'd swear it was taken during the last year or so of Lombard's life. It isn't, though; her hair is a shade lighter than it was in those final few months.

Moreover, there's a stamp on the back:



That date is Jan. 5, 1937, but on the front, there's a Paramount reference and a 1935 copyright below the image; its code number is P1202-1147.

However, for a portrait taken in the mid-thirties, there's definitely a forties flavor to it, a coolness that shows had she lived, Lombard could have adapted easily to the changing trends in the film industry. She could have been a Hitchcock (dramatic) blonde or appear in film noir with minimal difficulty. It's simply gorgeous.

As of this writing, no one has yet bid on this, possibly because the minimum bid is $99.99. But for something this stunning and relatively rare, the price seems reasonable. Bids can be made through 9 p.m. (Eastern) Sunday.

If you think you'd like to own this tantalizing Exhibit A of what might have been, go to http://cgi.ebay.com/CAROLE-LOMBARD-ORIGINAL-1935-GLAMOUR-PORTRAIT-STAMPED_W0QQitemZ230353689206QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item35a2265a76&_trksid=p3286.c0.m14&_trkparms=65%3A1%7C66%3A2%7C39%3A1%7C293%3A2%7C294%3A50.

Are actresses goddesses?

Well, at times they may play one, as Honor Blackman did when she portrayed Hera in the 1963 epic "Jason And The Argonauts." (We think of Honor as a swingin' sixties British chick, so it may surprise you to learn that her career began in 1947, and she will turn 84 this August.)

But in the strictest sense of the word, the answer is no. Whether they're on stage, radio or the big or small screen, good actresses certainly command the power to project themselves into another person (real or fictional), and that in itself is a sort of magic. That's as far as it goes, though, and the successful ones know it. If someone had told Carole Lombard she was a goddess, she probably would have reacted with a hearty laugh and, depending upon how well she knew the person, a self-deprecating, possibly salty comment.

However, some apparently disagree with that assessment. In his book "The Great Movie Stars -- The Golden Years," first published in 1970, David Shipman writes:

"Very early on, movie stars became confused with gods and goddesses. As the cinema grew up the concept went completely out of fashion, but there's a strong case to be made for the divinity of Carole Lombard. One is certain that, at Olympian banquets, she's right up there next to Zeus. If she's not (invited), she's probably throwing things."

And in 1965, several years before Shipman's book, we learned that Lombard was indeed a goddess of sorts. That's because she was part of a documentary called "The Love Goddesses" that purports to tell the history of sex appeal in cinema from the silent days to sixties. It did reasonably well at the box office, though it's rarely been revived.

Yes, Lombard was featured -- but, truth be told, this Olympian "club" wasn't all that exclusive; the film included archive footage from nearly four dozen actresses, including several who were still alive in 1965 (Lombard films featured were "No Man Of Her Own" and "Now And Forever"). But how many of the "goddesses" got their own lobby card to help promote the film?



The card is from the British release of the movie; it was distributed by Paramount in the UK, so an old Paramount publicity still was dusted off and used.

This lobby card is being auctioned at eBay; you've got just over a day to bid on it, as the auction closes just after 4 p.m. (Eastern) Thursday. As of this writing, one bid has been made at $9.99. If interested, go to http://cgi.ebay.com/Vint-CAROLE-LOMBARD-THE-LOVE-GODDESSES-UK-Lobby-Card_W0QQitemZ310152804391QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item48368c3827&_trksid=p3286.c0.m14&_trkparms=65%3A1%7C66%3A2%7C39%3A1%7C293%3A1%7C294%3A50.

While that's a nice photo of Carole, here are some I might have chosen, since to me, they more clearly reflect the "goddess" ideal:

Jane Peters, the future Carole Lombard, and her family had been living in Los Angeles for roughly a decade before her film career began in earnest. If that hadn't been the case -- had they still been in Fort Wayne -- there's a reasonable chance that mother Bess Peters might have been reluctant to let Jane try. Not that Mrs. Peters sought to shelter her daughter; far from it. By the standards of her time, she was a feminist, and encouraged Jane to take part in all sorts of endeavors.

But the film community of the early 1920s had developed a rather raunchy reputation. The death of Virginia Rappe in the San Francisco hotel where Fatty Arbuckle was staying rocked a nation and ruined his career even though he was acquitted of any wrongdoing. Several months later, the mysterious and still-unsolved death of director William Desmond Taylor damaged the reputations of two top actresses, Mary Miles Minter and Mabel Normand. And in 1923, popular actor Wallace Reid, a stalwart on screen playing all-American roles, died after becoming addicted to drugs he took to make it through his busy work schedule.

Many people, including scores of girls, headed to Los Angeles for employment in films. Few gained acting work, much less stardom, and many young women turned to sordid behavior merely to make ends meet. It's no wonder that parents tried to dissuade their daughters from pursuing a movie career.

Hollywood, sensing its reputation was at stake, fought back. One weapon in its arsenal was a book whose title sounds like an expose -- "Can Anything Good Come Out Of Hollywood?" -- especially since the cover features both a cross and a film camera.



Instead, this book -- published in 1923 -- took the opposite approach, telling its readers that Hollywood was full of upstanding people, and that one could make a good living without sacrificing their morals. The target audience was the midwestern Protestants who had spurred the growth of Los Angeles for several decades.

The operator of the fine site "Give Me The Good Old Days" (http://www.elbrendel.com/) picked up this book not long ago and found it fascinating...not so much for the prose but for the pictures. The Hollywood of 1923 was a toddler rapidly outgrowing her clothes, and these images are snapshots of a film community's feverish expansion.

In fact, the book had an example of "then" and "now," photos taken at roughly the dame location:



Film-related sights include the set Douglas Fairbanks used for "Robin Hood" in 1922, and the courtyard of the recently opened Grauman's Egyptian Theater...



...or two photos at Paramount Studios, involving Pola Negri and pay day:



But the most crucial photos were meant to reassure moviegoers (and anxious parents) that Hollywood was indeed a proper, genteel destination for their daughters. For example, here's the Hollywood Studio Club, where young women seeking work in the film industry could stay in a safe environment. Founded in 1916, the Studio Club would exist for nearly 60 years. Its alumnae included Zasu Pitts, Ayn Rand (a screenwriter in her pre-objectivist days), Maureen O'Sullivan, Dorothy Malone, Marilyn Monroe and Barbara Eden. Here's the club in 1923 and its original home:



(The Studio Club moved to a new, larger facility designed by Julia Morgan of Hearst Castle fame in 1926. It's now a YMCA-run Job Corps dormitory.(



Getting back to 1923, the book showed examples of virtue triumphing in the film capital, such as May McAvoy and Lois Wilson. Note how the caption spells the word "thoroughly" as "thoroly"; I'm guessing the author was or had been a reader of the Chicago Tribune, which for decades had its own peculiar approach to the English language (e.g.,"though" as "tho").



McAvoy and Wilson were members of a "sorority" called "Our Club," comprised of young actresses who didn't "smoke, drink or gossip." Some of the names still resonate with silent film buffs; others have been lost to history. At right, they're shown visiting the biggest name among actresses of the silent era, Mary Pickford.



I doubt Bess Peters or Jane ever read this book, and it wouldn't have made a difference one way or the other. Being based in Los Angeles, they knew their share of people in the movie industry, especially after Jane had played a supporting part in the 1921 movie "A Perfect Crime."



If you want to view more photos from this fascinating artifact, go to http://www.elbrendel.com/2009/07/can-anything-good-come-out-of-hollywood.html.

That's the cover of what is still probably the best-known Carole Lombard biography, "Screwball" by Larry Swindell. It was published in 1975, which means it's been out of print for a longer time than its subject's lifespan -- so long ago that for legal reasons, Swindell couldn't print the name "Howard Hughes" as the person Lombard likely had her first affair with (http://community.livejournal.com/carole_and_co/11206.html).

Despite its age, "Screwball" is still pursued by Lombard fans, and copies regularly appear for auction at eBay and similar sites...often for substantial prices. One copy now being auctioned has a starting bid price of $69.95, somewhat higher than final bids I've seen for the book. That it's autographed by Swindell plays a part in it, but it's probably more due on whom he autographed it for.

It just so happens this copy of "Screwball" was owned by someone who not only knew Carole personally, but worked with her professionally -- longtime Paramount designer Edith Head.



Indeed, Swindell noted in the introduction that Head's assistance "was greater than she might expect." That was written in March 1975; when "Screwball" came out later that year, he wrote this inscription to Head, who had just finished costume work on the film "Gable And Lombard":



It reads, "To Edith Head -- with thanks upon thanks (It was quite a while back -- remember?). Larry Swindell 11/1/75."

According to the seller, the book is "from the Collection of Shirley Judge, Executive Secretary to Edith Head. Ms. Judge acted as Edith Head's executive secretary during the last 8 years of Head's career and assisted her on the studio lot and at home. Upon Head's death, Judge was invited into Head's office to take a few remembrances of her work with Head. Judge passed away in 2007 and for the first time, her collection of Edith Head memorabilia was made available through Julien's Auctions. Book was recently acquired at Julien's Summer Sale, June 27."

The book itself is described by the seller as a "nice, clean copy. Inner pages are free of tears, dog-ears or writing. Binding is tight. Some wear to the dust jacket is present, namely bumping and tears along the edges and corners."

So this copy includes the dust jacket, which means it has one of my very favorite Lombard photos on the back cover:



It's a marvelously vibrant image of Carole, so wonderfully full of life. Yet in all my years of searching for Lombard memorabilia, I have curiously never come across it other than as this book's dust jacket back cover. Was it a publicity photo from a studio, something taken for a magazine or newspaper article, or was it from someone's personal collection -- even Clark Gable's? (Swindell also noted in the introduction that Jean Garceau, Clark and Carole's personal secretary, was of assistance in this biography.) Perhaps someone here knows more about this memorable picture.

Getting back to the book, if you're interested in possibly owning a copy of a Lombard biography that belonged to someone who actually knew her, go to http://cgi.ebay.com/EDITH-HEAD-Owned-Book-Screwball-Carole-Lombard-Swindell_W0QQitemZ320391117898QQcmdZViewItemQQptZAntiquarian_Collectible?hash=item4a98cc7c4a&_trksid=p3286.c0.m14&_trkparms=65%3A1%7C66%3A2%7C39%3A1%7C293%3A2%7C294%3A50.

As of this writing, no bids have been placed. Bidding closes just after 9:20 p.m. (Eastern) on Wednesday.

 

Okay, Vince -- I know.  Too much time on my hands...or the critical will chime in "Actually, not nearly ENOUGH time on her hands!"





 

Even if you've never seen "North By Northwest" (and if not, why haven't you?), you know what that image is. It's the Mount Rushmore National memorial in the Black Hills of western South Dakota -- a carving of four noted American presidents...from left, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt and Abraham Lincoln.

The memorial has become an American icon and a major tourist atraction. The idea of choosing four and memorializing them has also become part of popular culture; I've seen the concept used in discussions on sports, music and so on.

In that vein, let's do a classic Hollywood Rushmore, one that deals specifically with actresses. Assuming Carole Lombard gets one of the four spots (and keep in mind this is a Lombard fan site, after all!), who are your other three selections?



You can base your choices on artistic achievement, historical impoctance, personal favorite, whatever -- this is your mountain, and you can carve it as you deem fit. My lone requirement is that the actress must have had a starring role before 1960. (So as much as I may love Goldie Hawn and Michelle Pfeiffer, they're not eligible to be carved onto my mountain.)

My three alongside Lombard are (in alphabetical order):



Jean Harlow: Say, aren't sex symbols supposed to seem threatening to other women? That's certainly not the case with Harlow, whose sheer likability draped her like one of those gowns she wore in "Dinner At Eight." And the offscreen Jean was every bit as genuine.and generous. It's no wonder the entire film community mourned her shockingly early passing.



Myrna Loy: She viewed the "men must marry Myrna" campaign with the same wry bemusement she frequently displayed on screen as "the perfect wife" (or companion). Yet she knew it was a big step up from her earlier stereotype of Asians and other one-dimensional ethnic roles. Loy's intelligence and integrity shone in just about every part she played.



Barbara Stanwyck: Funny how you often hear the term "actor's actor," but never "actress' actress" -- because if you did, Stanwyck's name would come up frequently. The lady defined versatility, from screwball to film noir, from biopics to straight dramas, from pre-Codes to westerns. Stanwyck could do it all -- and what's more, she did it for more than half a century. A consummate pro.

Okay, folks, start planning your mountain, with three companions for Carole.

If any of you collected baseball cards during the 1960s (or collect cards of that era now), you are likely aware of a Topps concept called "rookie stars." The company would take two prospects or young players from a particular organization and team them on one card. Perhaps it was done to save expenses and cut down on the number of cards in the set, but in retrospect it's fascinating to view the pairings.

Take the card above, for instance (which I had in my collection in 1965), featuring a pair of "rookie stars" for the St. Kouis Cardinals. On the left is a righthanded pitcher named Fritz Ackley, and you can tell from the pinstripes -- a feature that hasn't been on Cards' uniforms since the 1930s -- that the photo was taken while he was with another club...specifically the Chicago White Sox. Ackley pitched briefly for the Sox late in the 1963 season and early in '64, winning one game and losing none. He even had two hits, one a double, in six at-bats. The Cardinals acquired him after the 1964 season, but he never again pitched in the majors and died in 2002 at age 65.

His career was in sharp contrast to the other player on the card, a lefthander named Steve Carlton. He came up to St. Louis in '65 and soon became part of the rotation. He was a key cog in two Cardinal pennant winners in the late '60s, but few people remember his St. Louis career. That's because he was traded to Philadelphia for Rick Wise after the '71 season in what may be the greatest trade in Phillies history. He won 27 games for the Phils in '72, would capture several Cy Young awaards for pitching supremacy, was the ace of the Phillies' first World Series champions in 1980 and eventually won more than 300 games. He's now in the Hall of Fame, and a statue of "Lefty" stands outside Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia.

We have the movie equivalent of a "rookie stars" card as the subject of today's entry. While it's true Carole Lombard wasn't a rookie when this photo was taken in 1932, the other person in the photo definitely was:



Yep, that's Cary Grant, some seven years before he and Lombard would reunite in the drama "In Name Only." Here, he has a supporting role, with Carole in the lead, in "Sinners In The Sun," among the first films Grant had made. (And while Lombard and Grant were both in "The Eagle And The Hawk" in 1933, they had no scenes together. Carole only appeared on screen with Fredric March.)

The photo is now being offered at eBay, and as of this writing, no bids have been placed. Interesting, given the popularity of both Carole and Cary and the relative rarity of this photo. Bidding opens at $9.99, and time's a-wastin' -- the deadline for bidding is just after 9:05 p.m. (Eaastern) Sunday. To bid, or simply to find out more, go to http://cgi.ebay.com/Carole-Lombard-Cary-Grant-photo-1932-Sinners-in-the-Sun_W0QQitemZ250454601246QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item3a5041ee1e&_trksid=p3286.c0.m14&_trkparms=65%3A1%7C66%3A2%7C39%3A1%7C293%3A1%7C294%3A50..

Oh, and to those who might not have liked the analogy: Cary Grant likely would have appreciated it. Despite being from England, he became an avid baseball fan, and probably saw Steve Carlton pitch at Dodger Stadium several times. (Oh, and speaking of baseball and things American -- happy Independence Day! The U.S. is 233 years old today.)

Those of us still irked by the mediocre biopic "Gable And Lombard" (and many would say "mediocre" is a generous description) have long yearned for a Carole Lombard biopic. Well, there's good news -- we may be getting one. But first, some background on the source it's coming from:



In the 1980s and '90s, veteran screenwriter and film historian Michael Druxman (he wrote the Charlton Heston volume in the Pyramid series of film-related paperbacks) wrote a series of one-person plays about Hollywood legends such as Spencer Tracy, Orson Welles, Clara Bow and Clark Gable. Such a play about Carole Lombard seemed appropriate after the success of the Gable work. Druxman's setting has Carole, following the success of her bond rally in Indianapolis, is back at her hotel room, awaiting word on whether she will be allowed to fly back to Los Angeles, where she suspects her husband is cheating on her. Lombard looks back at her personal life and profesional career with humor and determination.

"Lombard" has had three productions, according to Druxman, who directed all three. The Glendale News Press called it "an engrossing one-woman show." (This play should not be confused with another one-woman play called "Carole" that ran for a few days in Los Angeles in February 2001 and received a tepid review. I myself have never seen either play.)



On June 17, Druxman -- who moved to Austin, Texas, not long ago -- made this announcement on Twitter:

"I'm going to adapt my 1-woman play on Carole Lombard into a screenplay. Maybe we'll shoot it here in Austin."

Three days later, he issued this followup:

"Adapting my 1-woman Carole Lombard play into a movie is presenting an interesting set of challenges. I like challenges."

Those challenges include how much he'll expand the story, adding more characters and scenes. Assuming the story is still set at the time of the bond rally, does he add more about the Indianapolis trip? Do we see her mother, Bess Peters, and MGM publicist Otto Winkler, both of whom accompanied her on this trip? Do you do "flashback" scenes about Lombard's life, and if so, how many? Do you include Gable, Powell, Columbo?

Obviously financial constraints come to mind as well, although "Gable And Lombard" could have had a budget the size of "Cleopatra" and the script still would have sunk it. One would expect the actress who would play Lombard would be a relative unknown -- although with Druxman's decades of experience in the film industry, he might have a surprise up his sleeve.

Whatever, we wish Druxman well with his "challenge" in getting the job done, and await the finished product.

If you somehow hadn't heard the news earlier in the day, you received it just before Turner Classic Movies entered its prime-time schedule last night with "Manhattan Melodrama": The by now familiar image of windshield wipers in the rain signaled the passing of someone with ties to classic film, and in this case the person TCM remembered was Karl Malden, who died at his home earlier in the day.

Obviously, TCM had stockpiled clips of Malden for this occasion; he was, after all, 97. And as some have noted, he died five years to the day after his longtime friend, Marlon Brando, had passed on.

Many of yesterday's recaps of Malden's career may have focused too much on his 21 years as American Express Travelers Cheques pitchman ("Don't leave home without them"), but on the other hand, for someone who hardly had leading man looks to have held that role that long says something about him. Whether on the stage or screen (big or small) Karl Malden exuded integrity. That's why he won both an Oscar and an Emmy; whether he was playing a hero or a heavy, he made you believe in a character, such as Father Barry in 1954's "On The Waterfront" (below is Malden with Brando and Eva Marie Saint):



We've written about Malden before (http://community.livejournal.com/carole_and_co/61900.html), and he certainly will be missed for his many contributions to the entertainment industry. But there's another angle to Malden's passing: Who is now left that appeared on film with Carole Lombard? (Malden made his film debut with a small role in 1940's "They Knew What They Wanted.")

Sure, there are still people around who knew Lombard -- Marsha Hunt, Gloria Stuart, Mickey Rooney, Olivia de Havilland, Joan Fontaine -- but none of them ever acted with her. As someone reminded us, Shirley Temple from "Now And Forever" is still around, and perhaps there are a few others left who appeared in a film with Carole when they were juveniles (though no names come to mind) but remember those street urchins in the restaurant scene of "Mr. & Mrs. Smith"? If any of them are still with us, they'd be at least in their mid-70s now.



Our condolences to Malden's wife Mona -- now widowed after more than 70 years of marriage -- two daughters, and their grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Also note that TCM has revised its schedule for Friday, July 10 to commemorate Malden. It opens with "On The Waterfront" at 8 p.m. (Eastern), followed by Malden's Oscar-winning performance in "A Streetcar Named Desire" at 10 and "Birdman Of Alcatraz" at 12:15 a.m.

They were good friends in real life, sharing a studio for many years and, through marriage, one woman (at different times, mind you). But they made only one movie together, and if you have Turner Classic Movies in the U.S., you can see it tonight.

Many of you have probably guessed we are referring to William Powell and Clark Gable, each of whom could claim Carole Lombard as his wife. And in 1934, they made their only film together, co-starring Myrna Loy (who set off plenty of on-screen sparks with both but was never actually romantically linked with either one). The movie is titled "Manhattan Melodrama," and it airs at 8 p.m. (Eastern).



Directed by W.S. Van Dyke (who that year would direct Powell and Loy in the pivotal smash "The Thin Man"), "Manhattan Melodrama" is MGM's take on gangster films. Compared to Warners, MGM gangster fare wasn't quite as hard-bitten, nor did it teem with Warners' urban sensibilities. But sheer star power and good storytelling made it work.

"Manhattan Melodrama" was sort of a return to roots for Gable, whose stardom had been established playing tough guys some three years earlier in "A Free Soul" and "Night Nurse." By now, however, the Gable persona was less brutish, more stylish. In this film, Gable and Powell play boyhood friends who wind up on opposite sides of the law -- Powell as a district attorney with gubernatorial ambitions, Gable as a gangster. They vie for the affection of the same woman (Loy). Sounds like a cliche, but the stars make you believe it.

Incidentally, Mickey Rooney plays the Gable character in his youth, and reference is made to the 1904 fire on the excursion steamship "General Slocum" in which more than 1,000 people died. Until the World Trade Center attack, it was the deadliest tragedy in New York City history.



As the lone teaming of Lombard's husbands, "Manhattan Melodrama" is the answer to a trivia question -- but chances are it's better known as the answer to another trivia question: "What was the film John Dillinger saw before he was gunned down by FBI agents?"



The end came for "Public Enemy No. 1" on the night of July 22, 1934, a sweltering day in Chicago in which nearly two dozen people died of the heat. So the air-cooled Biograph must have come as comfort to Dillinger and his two female companions -- a waitress girlfriend, and his Romanian-born landlady, who ran several houses of prostitution and was being threatened with deportation.

When Dillinger suggested they see "Manhattan Melodrama" at the Biograph (he was reportedly an avid Myrna Loy fan), the landlady tipped off the law before they left. She wore an orange dress to make it easy for authorities to locate Dillinger; it appeared reddish in the light of the marquee, thus leading to the incorrect but famous reference of "the woman in red." (The landlady was ultimately departed anyway, and died in Romania in 1947.)

Once the three left the theater and walked south on Lincoln Avenue, Dillinger noticed he was being lured into a trap and quickly ran into an alley. FBI sharpshooters killed him on the spot. (In her autobiography "Being And Becoming," Loy -- while not at all condoning Dillinger's devious deeds -- nonetheless felt a bit guilty for indirectly luring him to his doom.)

TCM could have waited another three weeks to show this movie and commemorate the 75th anniversary of that bloody anniversary -- but today marks the premiere of "Public Enemies," a retelling of the Dillinger tale with Johnny Depp as the criminal and Christian Bale as G-man Melvin Purvis. Some other gangster-related material is on TCM tonight, too, including "Fog Over Frisco" with Bette Davis at 9:45, "G-Men" with James Cagney at 11, and a 2008 documentary on Warners gangster films, "The Public Enemies: The Golden Age Of The Gangster Film," at 12:30 a.m.

As you may have noticed, we've changed the display of "Carole & Co." a bit. The new light-on-dark format for entries is, in my opinion, easier to read (particularly with the sans-serif fonts we're now using). With that out of the way, let's get to our entry.

Film and television can help popularize works of fiction through their adaptations, but they can also have a Frankenstein effect, in essence turning upon their creation and obliterating the source.

Perhaps the most obvious example of this is "The Wizard Of Oz"; the 1939 MGM movie came to eclipse the original book, especially after CBS made it an Easter tradition for decades. The Judy Garland film so worked its way into the public consciousness that many forgot author L. Frank Baum wrote a series of Oz books, still splendid examples of juvenile literature. (To be fair, Baum himself marketed Oz stories for the stage -- they were enormously popular -- and even oversaw silent film adaptations before his death in the late teens.)

And not to pick on CBS, but at roughly the same time, Bill Paley's network was having the same effect on another series of novels, but this one while the author was still around to enjoy it (and the ensuing profits):



That's Carole Lombard's old friend Gail Patrick, in between actor Raymond Burr and author Erle Stanley Gardner, as Gardner holds an award commemorating the sale of his 100-millionth book. Most of them were a series of novels about defense attorney Perry Mason, whom Burr of course portrayed on TV for nine seasons. To many of us, Burr is Mason, and we probably can hum the melody of the TV show's theme. (Patrick was executive producer of the series.) The show undoubtedly helped Gardner (a self-taught lawyer in real life) sell more copies of the books, but it's safe to say that Perry Mason is now better known as a television than literary character.

Thus, it may surprise many to learn that two decades before the TV series debuted in 1957, Perry Mason stories -- six in all -- were adapted to film. If you're a fan of the Gardner books, or merely want to see what a non-Burr Mason is like, you'll have your chance Wednesday when Turner Classic Movies in the U.S. runs all six films. (Patrick tried to revive the series in the '70s with a good actor, Monte Markham, cast as Mason, but the public demanded Burr, who resumed playing the character in several TV movies.)

All six were made at Warners. Here's the schedule (all times Eastern):

9:30 a.m. -- "The Case of the Howling Dog" (1934). Perry Mason gets caught between feuding neighbors who claim to be married to the same woman. Warren William, Mary Astor and Allen Jenkins. Directed by Alan Crosland (best known for the 1927 "The Jazz Singer")

.

11 a.m. -- "The Case of the Curious Bride" (1935). Perry Mason helps a young woman whose supposedly dead husband suddenly returns to life. Warren William, Margaret Lindsay and Errol Flynn (before "Captain Blood" propelled him to stardom later that year). Directed by Michael Curtiz. (Above is William with Claire Dodd as Mason's secretary, Della Street.)

12:30 p.m. -- "The Case of the Lucky Legs" (1935). Perry Mason tries to stay on the wagon while investigating the murder of a crooked beauty contest promoter. Warren William, Lyle Talbot and Allen Jenkins.

2 p.m. -- "The Case of the Velvet Claws" (1936). Perry Mason's honeymoon with Della Street (the characters were never married on the TV series) is interrupted by the murder of a scandal-sheet publisher. Warren William, Claire Dodd and Winifred Shaw.

3:15 p.m. -- "The Case of the Black Cat" (1936). Perry Mason looks into a trio of murders heralded by the shriek of a cat. Ricardo Cortez (who succeeded William as Mason, although here his marriage to Della never happened), Jane Bryan and Harry Davenport.

4:30 p.m. -- "The Case of the Stuttering Bishop" (1937). Perry Mason tries to find out if a long-lost heiress is the real thing. Donald Woods takes over as Mason (he had played a supporting role in "Curious Bride"), Ann Dvorak as Della and Craig Stevens.

Warners was hoping for a successful series along the lines of the "Thin Man" films; each made six movies, but the Mason stories were lower-profile affairs. (Gardner reportedly wasn't happy with most of these adaptations, and exerted more control when Mason stories were adapted for radio and TV.) But William and Cortez, both of whom had frequently played smarmy chracters in the pre-Code era, gave Mason some texture and dimension that the straitlaced Burr version often lacked.

Both William and Cortez also tackled Sam Spade on screen, Cortez in the 1931 "Maltese Falcon," William in the 1936 quasi-remake, "Satan Met A Lady." William had also earlier played another famed literary justice seeker, Philo Vance (http://community.livejournal.com/carole_and_co/209508.html).

The films are hardly classics, but they're worth watching for the different approaches to Gardner's characters. And William, in some ways the male equivalent of Norma Shearer (increasingly recognized by film buffs in recent years for his outstanding pre-Code work), here shows that his talent didn't fade after the Production Code was stringently enforced in mid-1934.

And who knows? Perhaps after seeing these films, you'll head over to your local library and see if they have any of Gardner's Perry Mason novels.

Many years ago, I saw a cover of Ms. magazine showing Goldie Hawn, standing near some laboratory equipment; the headline on the cover read, "Better Loving Through Chemistry?" So I checked Google, searching for the cover. Should be easy to track down, right?

No luck, though I tried searching in a number of ways. I did find out the cover was from the August 1980 issue; unfortunately, the Ms. archive only goes back as far as its 1998 revival. I could find all sorts of Goldie Hawn magazine covers -- even one from Vogue in August 1969 -- but not the one I was looking for.

But this story has a happy ending. Carole Sampeck of The Lombard Archive tracked it down on the one place other than Google where you can find such items...eBay. And here is Goldie in all her 1980 glory, a few years before she found her own perfect chemistry with Kurt Russell:



Thanks, Carole.

As you might have guessed by now, the topic deals with chemistry, specifically Carole Lombard's with her leading men. And we're strictly referring to on-screen chemistry, so what Carole did with William Powell or Clark Gable (or, for that matter, with George Raft or John Barrymore -- we know she was intimate with both) when they weren't filming a movie doesn't come into play here.

Here's a famous cinematic example of bad chemistry:



Yes, Hope and Hepburn (Katharine, not Audrey) in the 1956 comedy "Thr Iron Petticoat." This was likely intended as a Cold War version of "Ninotchka," and if Kate thought this offbeat pairing could be the comedy equivalent of the similarly unconventional "The African Queen," well, let's just borrow a line from another Humphrey Bogart film and say she was misinformed. (Note that is from a VHS copy of the film; it's one of the few from either star that has yet to make it to DVD.)

The "Ninotchka" Cold War concept worked far better as "Silk Stockings," both on Broadway and on film, the latter featuring magnificent chemistry between Fred Astaire and that long-legged beaker named Cyd Charisse.

As far as bad Carole chemistry goes, I think many Lombard fans would say this pairing fizzled:



It's Lombard and Fernand Gravet in "Fools For Scandal," the 1938 film that halted Carole's career momentum and shifted her to drama for about two years.

Now even the presence of a leading man with average chemistry couldn't have turned "Fools For Scandal" into a winner; the script was lackluster at best, and Warners simply had no feel for late 1930s romantic comedy. But no real sparks generate between Gravet and Lombard.

Conversely, who had the best on-screen chemistry with Carole? You could make a good argument for...



...Fred MacMurray, shown in "Hands Across The Table," his first of four collaborations with Carole. Others who would be up there are the aforementioned Powell, Gable and Barrymore, as well as James Stewart and Cary Grant (virtually every actress had good chemistry with those two).

So, who do you think had especially good chemistry with Lombard? And is there a leading man other than Gravet who doesn't make the grade? Let us know before the beaker boils over and explodes, and we have to summon Goldie Hawn to the lab to clean up the mess.

By the way, if you're a Hawn fan and want the above magazine, go to http://cgi.ebay.com/GOLDIE-HAWN-MS-MAGAZINE-August-1980_W0QQitemZ170350543135QQcmdZViewItemQQptZMagazines?hash=item27a9af011f&_trksid=p3286.c0.m14&_trkparms=65%3A12%7C66%3A2%7C39%3A1%7C72%3A1205%7C240%3A1318%7C301%3A1%7C293%3A1%7C294%3A50#ebayphotohosting. Bids start at $7.99 -- none have yet been placed -- and bidding closes at about 1:20 p.m. (Eastern) on Sunday.

Part of me always has a little trepidation when I contact an eBay seller about an error in the description of a Carole Lombard item (as was the case yesterday, when a photo listed as that of Lombard was actually Marlene Dietrich instead). While I think accuracy is as all-important for the seller as it is for a potential buyer, there's always the worry that a seller will have a "mind your own business" reaction.

Fortunately, that's not what happened yesterday; the seller quickly revised his description, and consequently you won't find it in a listing of Lombard items at eBay. However, you will find the following two photos, and they're unquestionably of Carole. (Both are sepia-toned, probably due to age; I have converted both to grayscale and also enhanced their clarity.)

First, here's a Paramount publicity still of Lombard:



The seller isn't certain what Paramount film Lombard is promoting, and frankly I'm not entirely sure either. However, from the coding in the lower right-hand corner, P1202-563, I'm guessing it comes from sometime in 1933. I'm also not sure which Paramount photographer took it, but we're pretty certain where it was taken -- from what's on the walls, it's likely the photo studio on the Paramount lot for its chief designer, Travis Banton. Several other Lombard photos were taken there.

It's 8 x 10, in pretty good shape, and bidding begins at $49.99 -- which sounds expensive to the uninitiated, but reasonable considering this must be a relatively rare photo (I've never come across it before, and it's not in the photo archive at CaroleLombard.org).

Bidding closes at just after 11:45 p.m. (Eastern) next Friday; no bids have been placed as of this writing. If interested, go to http://cgi.ebay.com/Gorgeous-Sexy-Carole-Lombard-Publicity-8x10_W0QQitemZ270416392736QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item3ef612b220&_trksid=p3286.c0.m14&_trkparms=65%3A1%7C66%3A2%7C39%3A1%7C240%3A1318%7C301%3A0%7C293%3A3%7C294%3A50.

The other Lombard photo goes back some eight years further, to her days as a silent starlet at Fox:



The seller knows what film this is from -- "Hearts And Spurs," with Buck Jones. (The Fox studio print is on the back.) While the seller said this is from when Lombard was 17 years old, actually she was all of 16 when it was made. (According to the book "The Films Of Carole Lombard," "Hearts And Spurs" was released on June 7, 1925 -- nearly four months before her 17th birthday. Also note that the description has subsequently been changed.) It's a charming photo of the young Lombard, with a darker hair shade than she had later in her career...especially since I can't think of any other photo where she's wearing a man's necktie!

According to the seller, it's in near-mint condition, remarkable for a photo that's 84 years old. Because of the condition and its status as one of the earliest publicity photos of Lombard (for a film that apparently has been lost for decades), bidding starts at a decidedly higher $149.99. (As of this writing, no one has bid on it.) Bidding will close at about 12:05 a.m. (Eastern) on Saturday. Want to know more? Go to http://cgi.ebay.com/17-Yr-Old-Carole-Lombard-Buck-Jones-HEARTS-SPURS-8x10_W0QQitemZ270416397703QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item3ef612c587&_trksid=p3286.c0.m14&_trkparms=65%3A1%7C66%3A2%7C39%3A1%7C240%3A1318%7C301%3A0%7C293%3A3%7C294%3A50.

Not long ago, I put up an entry of a photo because auctioned on eBay that I thought was of Carole Lombard and Clark Gable outside the Trocadero supper club in Hollywood -- but after two comments and a further review of the photo, I discovered to my chagrin that it wasn't of Carole (nor was it of Clark), and I hurriedly removed the entry and put up another one in its place.

Well, it nearly happened again...but this time I caught the potential blunder before posting it (whew!).

The item itself is tantalizing, promoted as Carole Lombard not only with Clark Gable, but with famed director Cecil B. De Mille (who had dismissed her from the female lead in "Dynamite" in 1929 after only a few days of shooting), as well as another man whom I can't identify. I have never seen a photo of Lombard and De Mille together.

Anyway, here's what the photo looks like. For now, resist double-clicking to enlarge it, and view it at that size:



The seller knows it's a publicity photo from CBS radio, but could furnish little other information. Fortunately, we can; with De Mille on hand, it's almost certainly from the program "Lux Radio Theater," where De Mille served as host (he was billed as the "producer," though he had little, if any, role in organizing the show). Lombard would appear several times on "Lux" (http://community.livejournal.com/carole_and_co/3807.html_.

However, Carole never worked with Gable on "Lux," and while it's possible he may have taken in the performance when Lombard appeared (or vice versa), it wouldn't have made much sense for CBS to have run a publicity photo of that.

So let's taken a closer look at that woman. Is it Lombard?



Nope -- I think it's pretty safe to say it's Marlene Dietrich. Now at times during the 1930s, Lombard and Dietrich resembled each other (much to Marlene's dismay, although she personally liked Carole).

It's true you don't think of Gable and Dietrich as co-stars, since they never made a movie together. However, they did make one joint appearance on "Lux" -- and it so happened to be the program's debut from Los Angeles on June 1, 1936. ("Lux" had begun as a New York-based program two years earlier, but its creators decided to move the series to the West Coast to take advantage of Hollywood star power.) Clark and Marlene appeared in "The Legionnaire And The Lady," essentially an adaptation of the 1930 Dietrich film "Morocco" under a different title. It's a historic photograph -- "Lux" would be broadcast from Hollywood for nearly two more decades -- but it simply isn't one of Carole.

If you're a Gable, Dietrich, De Mille or old-time radio fan, you may want it just the same. If so, prepare to shell out some bucks for it -- the minimum bid is $149.99. While no bids have been placed as of this writing, bidding closes at about 11:55 p.m. (Eastern) on Friday, July 3. To see the photo or to bid, go to http://cgi.ebay.com/Carole-Lombard-Clark-Gable-Cecil-B-DeMille-Press-Photo_W0QQitemZ220443269463QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item3353715957&_trksid=p3286.c0.m14&_trkparms=65%3A1%7C66%3A2%7C39%3A1%7C240%3A1318%7C301%3A0%7C293%3A4%7C294%3A50.

(Note: I contacted the seller of the item, and a correction in the description has been made.)

Usually we focus on Carole Lombard and the classic Hollywood era, but since yesterday was such a shocking day in the entertainment industry, it will be the topic of today's entry.

First (not chronologically), the sudden death of Michael Jackson, about two months shy of his 51st birthday. True, in recent years he had gained more renown for legal battles than for any artistic achievements, but there was a period of nearly two decades when it was the other way around.

Jackson was a remarkable singer even in his pre-teens, as he led the way for the Jackson Five, the last big act to come out of Motown while it was still based in Detroit (the company moved to Los Angeles in 1972). From the energetic "I Want You Back" to the brilliant ballad "I'll Be There," Jackson had it all down, precocious yet soulful. The hits diminished by the mid-'70s, though he managed a few at the end of the decade, both with the Jacksons and on his own. They were produced by pop-jazz veteran Quincy Jones, and they were a signpost for the future.

In late 1982, Jackson released "Thriller," which became a huge hit and spanwed a number of singles. Jackson's inventive videos made him the first black artist to get wide airplay on the still-new MTV, which was hailed as a breakthrough. (Given what MTV is now, it's hard to envision it was that big a deal.) Jackson had a few more hits in the '80s, but by decade's end, he was better known for his rather bizarre behavior.

If the self-labeled description "King of Pop" was a bit too presumptuous, there can be no doubt that Jackson, at his best, was an inventive artist, spanning both the end of Motown's glory days and the beginning of the video era. (Incidentally, 2009 marks the 50th anniversary of the founding of Motown, and the Detroit Free Press has been doing a yearlong tribute to the company, well worth checking out. Go to http://www.freep.com/article/99999999/ENT04/90111018/1039&template=theme&theme=MOTOWN012009).

But the primary focus of today's entry isn't on Michael Jackson, but on the entertainment figure who died earlier in the day, and whose passing was somewhat upstaged by Jackson's unexpected death. I am obviously speaking about Farrah Fawcett:



I think it's only human nature that most of us contemplate how we'll be remembered after we leave this mortal life. Obviously, others remember you by your words and deeds, but for public figures such memories tend to be encapsulated in an image. Images, after all, are what defines a celebrity.

Farrah Fawcett knew it all too well. There was that poster which, along with the hit TV series "Charlie's Angels," made her the sex symbol of the mid- and late 1970s. (And she had long been a beautiful woman; in the mid-seventies, I came across her picture in a University of Texas yearbook from a decade before, and she was stunning.) The poster and show made her famous, and marketable (remember there was a shampoo named for her?), but it also threatened to bring her down as quickly as she came up.

Fawcett tried to escape the trajectory. She left "Charlie's Angels" to make films, just as Goldie Hawn did after leaving "Laugh-In," but Fawcett wasn't as accomplished an actress as Hawn, and her material was nowhere as good. Her first starring vehicle, the comedy "Somebody Killed Her Husband," was dubbed "Somebody Killed Her Career" by wags in the press. By the start of the '80s, she was yesterday's news.

But Fawcett persevered. If theatrical movies weren't going to work for her, then the TV movie genre would. (Think of how TV movies in the 1970s enabled Elizabeth Montgomery to escape the ghost of Samantha Stevens.) There was "The Burning Bed," where Fawcett played the decidedly unglamorous role of an abused wife -- and won plaudits for it. A biography of pioneering photographer Margaret Bourke-White followed, and it was also well received.

Suddenly, she was being recognized as a serious, capable actress -- but part of her probably realized that it might not be enough to dislodge the image of that poster, a symbol of '70s kitsch. And while people within the industry generally liked her personality and professionalism, there were enough occasional weird incidents that left the public wondering about her.

But fate would hand one final role to her, a role no one would have asked for: cancer victim.

In 2006, Fawcett was diagnosed with anal cancer. While no form of cancer is pleasurable, for a one-time sex symbol to have anal cancer seemed like a raunchy, bitter joke. If she had retreated into a shell to live out the rest of her days, few would have blamed her.

But she didn't. Maybe she noted how fellow TV icon Mary Tyler Moore had helped others by not only publicly admitting she had diabetes, but working hard to raise money for a cure (and she'll be known for that role long after Laura Petrie and Mary Richards are forgotten). Or maybe Fawcett realized she had one card to play, so she might as well play it for all it was worth -- and that's not meant to sound cynical.

She made millions aware of the disease and its effects, taking her battle public and appearing on an NBC documentary released earlier this year. There was no glamour in this fight, only pain -- but she had the courage to let us view what she was going through. If it made people aware of the risks of cancer -- and how to approach it, with toughness and dignity -- then she did her job.

Fawcett's death came before longtime companion Ryan O'Neal could fulfill his promise that they would marry -- but when the end came, he was there, as were the doctors who had aided her through this difficult fight. And perhaps, in the back of her mind as she breathed her last -- an "angel day" for a TV "angel" -- Farrah Fawcett realized that she had ensured a legacy that had nothing to do with a poster.

Godspeed, Ms. Fawcett.

By now, the law of diminishing returns tends to come into practice when I scour online auction sites looking for Carole Lombard-related material. But a surprise pops up every now and then, and that's especially true for what I'm noting today.

For the seller in question not only has one Lombard photo I've never seen online before, but four -- and they're from a pair of movies that sometimes are ignored when reviewing Carole's career.

Three are from the 1940 adaptation of the Sidney Howard play "They Knew What They Wanted," directed by Garson Kanin:




With Lombard in each picture are Frank Fay, William Gargan and Charles Laughton.

The fourth photo is from one of her most obscure Paramount vehicles, 1932's "No One Man":



I believe that's Ricardo Cortez who's bedridden.

All four are rarities among Lombard film photographs, and all are being offered in one package. The three "They Knew What They Wanted" pictures are 8 x 10, while the "No One Man" photo is slightly smaller, 7 x 9 1/2, but is linen backed.

Bidding begins at $14.95, which would be a bargain for four relatively rare photos -- and no bids have been placed as of yet. However, bidding doesn't close until 7:48 p.m. (Eastern) next Wednesday, so there's a good chance multiple bids may be made on this one.

If you have interest, go to http://cgi.ebay.com/Carole-Lombard-Original-Movie-Photos-4-EArly-Pre1940_W0QQitemZ260435203179QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item3ca325d46b&_trksid=p3286.c0.m14&_trkparms=65%3A1%7C66%3A2%7C39%3A1%7C240%3A1318%7C301%3A0%7C293%3A4%7C294%3A50

A few months after Carole Lombard's passing in January 1942, several of her older films were re-released, as people wanted to remember the lady who had died returning from the nation's first bond rally of World War II. Movies such as "No More Orchids" and "Nothing Sacred" briefly returned to screens.

Some three years later, in February 1945, "Nothing Sacred" was again available to theater owners, as was another Lombard film, "Made For Each Other." They were two of a David O. Selznick foursome being handled by a company called Film Classics Exchanges, with offices in Cleveland, Detroit and Cincinnati. An ad promoting the films ran in the Feb. 24, 1945 issue of Boxoffice magazine:



(Note that the other two films being offered -- "A Star Is Born" and "Young In Heart" -- also featured an actress born on Oct. 6, namely Janet Gaynor.)

This time, the films weren't being re-issued as tributes -- although Lombard remained beloved, recognized by many as a war casualty -- but as product. Wartime travel and material restrictions were making times tight on the homefront, so many smaller theaters were seeking alternatives to high-priced, first-run fare from the major studios.

Of the four, "Made For Each Other" fared best, and a few weeks later, it received its own quarter-page ad from the exchange. I'm guessing this tender, domestic drama with some comedic overtones struck a chord with audiences, particularly younger ones who dreamed of marriage and family after victory was achieved.

In fact, before the year was out, "Lux Radio Theater" aired its second adaptation of the film. The first, in 1940, starred Lombard and Fred MacMurray, filling in for James Stewart, The '45 version co-starred Stewart and Marsha Hunt, whose film career began at Paramount in the mid-thirties, while Lombard was there, and is still with us. (I've often wondered whether the same script was used for both versions -- if so, you could theoretically create a version starring Lombard and Stewart...or MacMurray and Hunt!)

I'm not sure whether Selznick -- who was trying to scrape up capital for his western saga, "Duel In The Sun" -- sold these films lock, stock and barrel to Film Classics Exchanges. Whether, all four movies eventually fell into the public domain, explaining why you can find dollar DVDs of these films at your local discount retailer.

Above is the cover of a 4-CD set called "Young Anita," featuring the wonderful jazz singer Anita O'Day in recordings she made from 1941 to 1950. (I've owned this set for several years; it spotlights O'Day's early work with Gene Krupa and Stan Kenton, and even some 1945 transcriptions she made with Nat Cole's trio; her version of "Penthouse Serenade" is sublime.)

It's one of many sets (most of them jazz-oriented) from a British company named Proper. Almost without exception, these collections have complete recording session information, reasonably good sound quality and informative booklets. Moreover, they sell at an excellent price, under $30. The only drawback, if you're a bit conscientious, is that in the UK, these recordings are in the public domain because they were at least 50 years old at the time of their release. Consequently, O'Day never got any money from these recordings before her death in 2006. (She did, however, get royalties from many other of her recordings, which continued to sell well among jazz fans.)

Carole Lombard never made a commercial recording, but if you want to consider her publicity stills in that vein, then there's a lot to choose from when putting together a "greatest hits" compilation, photography style. And currently, someone at eBay is selling such a package, with 74 tracks, er, stills in all.

You won't get this at a bargain price, however, since these are all original 8 x 10-inch photos. The seller's price? It's $250, under eBay's "buy it now" option, which would come to about $3.25 per photo -- not bad.

But what does this collection contain? The seller was kind enough to photograh all 74 shots in six groups (14 in one, 12 in each of the five others). Here are the group shots; double-clikc to view them at enlarged size:





For the most part, an interesting cross-section of Carole's career. Most of them are from Paramount, although there are several stills from "My Man Godfrey." I don't really notice any rarities here. If you're into collecting vintage Lombard pics, this looks like a dynamite deal; it's also a good starter set for anyone seeking to begin collecting Carole (although at $250, any "starter" better be darn sure he or she isn't going to "stop" with the hobby).

Want to boy, or merely to find out more? Then go to http://cgi.ebay.com/Carole-Lombard-different-74-8x10-photos-photo-LOT-sale_W0QQitemZ370212337646QQcmdZViewItemQQptZArt_Photo_Images?hash=item56325ff7ee&_trksid=p3286.c0.m14&_trkparms=65%3A1%7C66%3A2%7C39%3A1%7C240%3A1318%7C301%3A0%7C293%3A4%7C294%3A50.

The item will be up for sale through 6:55 a.m. (Eastern) July 7, about two weeks if it lasts that long. If you end up being the buyer, sit down at your coffee table while you go through the 74 photos...and put some Anita O'Day music on in the background.

Here's a photo from a pivotal point in Carole Lombard's professional life:



We can tell it's from the early 1930s, but just how early? Fortunately, it's an original vintage photo, with some things on the back that serve as clues:



It lists a "CAROL LOMBARD" as a "PARAMOUNT FEATURED PLAYER." A misspelling of her first name? No -- in the late twenties she went by "Carol" when she worked at Pathe Pictures, although evidence has also proven that she occasionally was labeled as "Carole" during the middle and late 1920s. It wasn't until late 1930 that she added the "e" for good.

But what's unusual about this photo is that the front has no coding listed. Lombard received the code number P-1202 when she arrived at the studio -- and since this is a vintage portrait, we know it has not been cropped. So what's the explanation? I'm guessing that it may have been a still photo taken of Lombard between her dismissal at Pathe and her eventual hiring at Paramount, and her new studio simply made copies to promote their new hire before she could receive an official session at Paramount. Her first movie there was "Safety In Numbers," and she wasn't offered a contract until after she made that film.

The photographer was listed in the lower right-hand corner of the back; his first name is "Herman," and it appears the last name begins with a "Z." Beyond that, I can't make out the name. I can't recall seeing any Paramount photographers named Herman, though I don't claim to be an authority on that studio's photographers.

Whatever, it's a charming portrait, and it can be yours. It's being auctioned at eBay, Bids begin at $49.99 (no bids as of yet), and bidding closes at just after 11:45 a.m. (Eastern) on Thursday. If you're interested, go to http://cgi.ebay.com/CAROLE-LOMBARD-VINTAGE-PHOTOGRAPH_W0QQitemZ130313534927QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item1e574abdcf&_trksid=p3286.c0.m14&_trkparms=65%3A1%7C66%3A2%7C39%3A1%7C240%3A1318%7C301%3A0%7C293%3A2%7C294%3A50.

When an actress is labeled a "sex symbol," it sounds better in theory than it is in practice. Yes, it can lead to stardom, but very often it tends to box her in and ultimately limits her career.

Of course, quite a few of them died young, sometimes accidentally (Carole Lombard, if you deem her a sex symbol, or Jayne Mansfield), sometimes due to health problems (Jean Harlow), sometimes under uncertain circumstances (Marilyn Monroe), so it's difficult to gauge how they would have fared once they reached the point where they were suddenly yesterday's sex symbol.



On the other hand, a few "sex symbols" who didn't leave us at an early age overcome the limitations and developed respectable careers. Raquel Welch, certainly the top cinematic sex symbol of the 1960s, became a pretty good actress as time went on and film vehicles were no longer designed around her still-considerable sex appeal. Now in her late sixties, Welch still gets her share of character parts.

But our subject today is an actress who was a sex symbol two decades before Welch, a stereotype that could have doomed her. Instead, she evolved into a respected actress (and singer) who made her share of memorable movies, and turns 88 today.

We are, of course, referring to Jane Russell.



There's a good chance that the above portrait, taken by George Hurrell, is the first image that comes to your mind when Jane Russell's name is mentioned. It's certainly an iconic photo -- but for an actress making her film debut, it could've been disastrous. It was designed to promote "The Outlaw" (filmed in 1941, released in 1943), a Billy the Kid saga from Howard Hughes who probably hoped Russell could do for this film what the equally unknown Jean Harlow had done for "Hell's Angels" in 1930. The difference was that "The Outlaw" wasn't much of a movie once you got beyond Russell's buxom figure; moreover, she was signed to a contract with Hughes which limited her work after "The Outlaw" became big box office.

It wasn't until 1949 and the Bob Hope vehicle "The Paleface" -- only her third film -- that Russell began to escape the shadow of "The Outlaw." Her next movie didn't come until 1951, but it was another good one, the noirish "His Kind Of Woman" with Robert Mitchum. A year later, they would reunite for this film:



Russell had a toughness in addition to her sex appeal, a quality that in turn complemented Mitchum's attitude.

By this time, Russell was no longer a curiosity, but a solid actress and competent singer (she appeared in a musical with Frank Sinatra called "Double Dynamite" and dueted with him on record). So in 1953, it was decided to team her with a sexy up-and-comer (Monroe) in a Technicolor musical, "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes." Like Monroe, Russell was married to a future Hall of Fame athlete at the time -- but the sport was football, and her husband, Los Angeles Rams quarterback Bob Waterfield, was her school sweetheart at Van Nuys High.



"Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" (directed by Howard Hawks) was a smash, and Russell and Waterfield formed a movie production company that produced several films, not all of which featured Mrs. Waterfield. For example, they co-produced this Clark Gable vehicle, "The King And Four Queens":



After 1957, Russell made some television appearances, then did a handful of movies in the sixties. A later generation came to know her as the spokeswoman for Playtex bras (if they weren't catching her films on the late, late show).

Russell was unable to conceive, so she and Waterfield adopted three children. (In contrast to her image, Russell was, and is, a devout Christian who regularly reads the Bible.) She later founded the World Adoption International Fund, which has placed more than 50,000 children with adoptive families. She currently lives in Santa Maria, Calif., and occasionally performs in "The Swingin' Forties" -- a musical revue she created herself -- at a local hotel.

We'll leave you with my favorite photo of Jane. As I've stated before, "elegant" is not an adjective you normally apply to her, but it certainly applies here:



Happy birthday, Jane Russell, and thanks for becoming something more substantial than a "sex symbol."