Early April of 2008 was very emotionally draining for me, beginning with the loss of a canine pal I’d known for fourteen years and then losing my best friend, less than a week later, who I’d known for, well, a lifetime.  Love and loss are both felt deeply and acutely, aren’t they?

But one friend, unknown to him until only recently, has helped me focus outside of myself and manage a bit better than I ordinarily might, in order to help him with his troubles. Actor Robert Quarry.

A longtime friend and colleague, I’d written a piece about him that launched “Robert Quarry Appreciation Week” over at the Classic Horror Film Board from May 4 to May 11, and it’s reproduced below. If you’ve never visited the forum called The Classic Horror Film Board, and have a love of fantastic films, I urge you to do so. You’ll not find lively, more passionate discussions among fans and professionals of the genre anywhere on the ‘net. I want to thank the board’s administrators, Gary Prange, David Colton and Kerry Gammill for hosting Robert Quarry Appreciation Week, as it spread the news in a positive manner, and many fans stepped forward to help as a result of their effort.

ROBERT QUARRY: A Celebration and a New Beginning

The first time I met Robert Quarry, over a couple of whiskey and sodas in a hotel bar at a horror convention, I was struck by a man who, by turns, was garrulous, witty, friendly, and driven by a compulsion that some of us are unfortunately afflicted with in life—the compulsion to be an actor. Quarry was 77 years old.

Oh, I certainly knew Quarry’s work, but I never thought to ask him the usual fan questions. You know the kind-”What was Vincent Price like when you made Dr. Phibes Rises Again?”, “Did you trade cooking recipes?”, or, “Is it true that Count Yorga Vampire was intended to be a porn film and you talked the director out of that?”-no, none of that. Mysteriously, we connected on another level altogether. The sort that, not to be rude to other company present, does tend to exclude others not of the fellowship. As if discovering a fellow member of a secret fraternity; you know, the way a couple of passionate auto mechanics bond, or horse enthusiasts, or, well, at the risk of being misunderstood here, let me just say that the last time someone connected with me that way, I fell deeply in love with her.

Perhaps I should clarify that above statement quickly.

Then, that night a few years ago, in a noisy, over-crowded hotel bar, were just two actors, two simple actors, consumed in discussion about the craft of their profession. The world disappeared for several hours as we traded stories, dreams and fears about our work, and not about the millions of mundane things that surround, and often over-shadow that work.

Make no mistake, Robert is a brilliant raconteur. For a man who’s career in film spans the end of Hollywood’s Golden Era, though the anything-goes period of the 1960’s and ’70’s, with solid work in live theatre, live (and canned) television, and radio, Robert has an endless supply of wonderful stories of the famous and infamous. But that night wasn’t about humorous but superfluous gossip and rumor. It was about what drove each of us into this treacherous world called entertainment; it was about the need to act and to be storytellers of a specific kind.

And then there came a moment that night when Robert’s eyes noticeably changed as he looked at me. It was unmistakable, but hard to explain. It’s a look that both pulls back into a “wide shot” to take everything in, while at the same time bores penetratingly into your very soul.

Like I said, the last time someone looked at me like that, well…

Robert was about to ask me something…but he didn’t. Eventually, exhausted from talk, we said goodnight and toddled off to our rooms.

He popped the question the next morning, while pouring coffee in the restaurant.

“I’ve been thinking about doing a play for sometime, I think I mentioned it last night, called I Never Sang For My Father“, he said.

I told him I knew the Robert Anderson play, and knew the film from 1970 that starred Melvyn Douglas and Gene Hackman.

“Well, I’ve a connection to a small theatre in Pasadena that’s interested, and I’d like you to play my son.”

In that instant, I knew what doing the play, especially that play, meant to Robert. I’m not one to read too much into things, and hesitate even to this day as to the importance of the subject matter. But the play, on a simple level, is about a father and son who cannot communicate on any level and at the moment when they are able to, the father has died, and it is too late. In the film version, the son says in an opening line, “Death ends a life, but it doesn’t end a relationship…”

For Robert, it had less to do with the plays themes and ideas of mortality (although they were a small factor), but more to do with the fact that, in the role of the father, was a big, emotional meaty part, and Robert wanted to act. He had not acted in some time. And for an actor not to act, not to create, well, it’s a kind of death.

You see, in the early 1980’s, Robert’s life took a horrifying turn when he was mugged one night near his home. Ribs broken and knees shattered for just a few dollars, he spent years in rehabilitation and out of work, fighting just to stay alive, and has been plagued with health problems directly related to the attack ever since. Compound this with what the body does to us all naturally as we age and Robert found over the years that he wasn’t wanted anymore as an actor, as it was difficult to be insured, let alone walk some days.

Even then, when things seemed hopeless and all was lost for Robert, friends came to his aid to help him and give what they could to let the actor that was Robert Quarry live. Director Fred Olen Ray was able to cast Robert in a string of films that, on its important practical level, allowed Robert to stay in the actor’s union to navigate the gross expense of countless surgeries and rehabilitation. But more importantly, a friendship between Fred and Robert grew that has lasted to this day.

As I write this, Robert is now 83 years old. Frustratingly for Robert, for both of us, we never did do the play I Never Sang For My Father. Over the years that our friendship deepened, Robert’s body continued to fight against everything his heart and mind desired. A series a small heart attacks, his legs continually giving him trouble, an endless list of drugs that he hates having to take to keep all his moving parts working—Robert remains a fighter and that same garrulous, witty, charming and open young man that I met several years ago.

Two years ago Robert began to realize that maybe he had better do something that most dread and fear, and that is to move himself into a retirement home. As he’s gotten older, and found it more and more difficult to physically do the simple things, he made his decision and was lucky to get an opening at the Motion Picture Country Home in Woodland Hills.

For a man so fiercely independent, to uproot himself from a home he’d lived in for nearly forty years, was an emotionally and physically devastating experience. But he has handled the transition with his usual aplomb and humor. A most wrenching factor in this new ordeal was the fact that, because of very specific rules at the Country Home, Robert had to leave virtually all of his possessions behind him. His clothes, furniture, and many personal belongings.

No, we never did do I Never Sang For My Father, but I can sing for Robert Quarry, and in this week of celebration of and appreciation for an actor loved by many, I am overjoyed that once again family, friends, filmmakers and fans has risen to help in a time of need and have helped with the move itself and have been there as he’s gotten settled into a new place. And here I should mention Tim Sullivan, who went beyond the call of duty. When it was learned that many of Roberts belongings could not come with him, Sullivan began a campaign to ask the fans to help, and he set up registries at Target and at Amazon. Because of his hard work, and the outpouring of support, Robert now has new furniture, new clothes, and a new beginning. And let me not forget what Robert’s own nieces are doing to help, who wish to remain out of the public spotlight, but are very glad the fans have stepped up for Uncle Bob. My eternal thanks to all.

Robert has been overwhelmed, in a very good way, and indeed overjoyed by all of this attention. Slowly, he is coming to like the new place. It’s clear that his quality of life has improved, his circle of friends has widened, and the old rascal may just be with us for a good long time to come. I hope so. He is my friend. We will be working together soon, because that is something that I can try give, beyond material things. Robert Quarry is still an actor, and a formidable one.

At the same time, Robert is strangely embarrassed by all the attention, but wants to hear from his fans. He doesn’t want pity, or his friends to fight over him or for him, nor anything bad to happen because of ill-founded rumor and gossip that can so easily spiral out of control. Just the other day Robert and I were talking about the subject of rumor, and the Clint Eastwood film Unforgiven, and how a very real situation was portrayed worse and worse with each telling to whomever would listen. Robert said, regarding his own situation, “I want my friends to know that I am grateful for all they’ve done. But this other stuff, this talk. I don’t want all that bullshit. Life’s too short.” And that’s a direct quote.

Robert is once again looking forward, to the future.

And it looks brighter and a little more peaceful, to me.

-Mark Redfield

If you can help, and I know times are tough for many of us, (so forgive me if I sound like a pitchman for donations to PBS!), but you can request an autographed picture from Robert for $22.50 (check or money order made out to “Robert Quarry”–and add fan mail if you wish!) and send it care of Tim Sullivan’s company, New Rebellion. Tim will see to it that all are answered, on a weekly basis. The money that you send will go directly to helping Robert Quarry with ongoing expenses with medication and care at his new place.

The store registries have been a success, and if it is discovered that more things are needed, and there are more items added to the list, the links will be added here.

Write To:

Robert Quarry/New Rebellion 1366 1/2 Riviera Avenue Venice, California 90291

Or you can write to him directly at:

Robert Quarry

c/o Motion Picture & Television Fund

Lodge 405, 23388 Mulholland Drive, Woodland Hills, California 91364

and finally, I urge you, when you consider your annual giving, to also think of The Motion Picture and Television Fund itself.  To see what wonderful work they do for all who work in the industry, and how you can donate, please visit www.mptvfund.org today.

-Mark Redfield

One of the things I love is history, and I love finding trivia about my hometown of Baltimore (Maryland, that is, and not Baltimore, Ireland or Baltimore, Ohio). You know the town I’m talking about…it’s the one where the Mayor made national headlines when he jumped into the harbor as a publicity stunt…the town that has one of the highest murder rates in the USA, and spawned two TV-series that reflect that fact from ex-Sun Paper reporter David Simon, Homicide: Life On The Street and The Wire, respectively…it’s where Jada Pinkett-Smith went to high school… where John Waters makes all of his pictures and Barry Levinson makes only some of his pictures…

Yeah. That Baltimore…

A few years ago I got curious about a statue that is across the street from the Baltimore Museum of Art, so I did a little digging and discovered that the man who posed for the figures was once a Hollywood movie star.

Turns out that man was one of the stars of the 1926 BEN-HUR, Francis X. Bushman. Not only that, he was born in Baltimore, too. Bushman, who first acted in motion pictures in 1911 and became the first major male dramatic star of cinema’s early days, was born January 10^th, 1883 and he lived in northwest Baltimore on Argyle Street.

Best remembered as Messala opposite Ramon Navarro’s Juda Ben-Hur, Bushman, at the height of his fame, returned to Maryland and lived on a nearly three hundred acre estate he called Bushmanor in the Greenspring Valley area. At the time, it was reported that he was earning almost a million dollars a year. (Not bad for 1920’s money!) Considered a heart-throb for millions of female fans, his fortunes changed when it was revealed that he had a secret marriage, and his leading man status was never recovered. He would soon be eclipsed by stars like Rudolph Valentino and his BEN-HUR co-star, Ramon Navarro.

When visiting Baltimore, you can see three of the surviving public statues that Bushman posed for early in his career, before becoming a star. In 1911, the French sculptor Mercie discovered the handsome and muscular Bushman at the Maryland Institute College of Art and asked him to pose for the statue of another famous Marylander, Francis Scott Key. The statue of the composer of the national anthem, The Star Spangled Banner, was erected on Eutaw Place. Other statues modeled on Bushman’s face and physique followed: the sculpture of Lord Baltimore (at the Court House on Saint Paul Street), Glory Victus (Mount Royal Avenue), and the Confederate Soldiers and Sailors Monument (Charles Street and Wyman Drive, across from the Baltimore Museum of Art, the statue that started my casual inquiry of who, what, and where).

Bushman enjoyed a long career in show business. He played in radio soap operas, had supporting character parts as he grew older (SABRINA, with Humphrey Bogart, in1952), even some second-rate pictures (THE PHANTOM PLANET, 1961) and many television shows. Among others, he appears in two episodes of the Batman series starring Adam West in the 1960’s playing Mr. Van Jones, who wants to pay The Riddler to capture Batman and Robin so they’ll star in a silent film he wants to make.

Francis X. Bushman, once considered the “handsomest man in the world” by his adoring female fans, died in 1968 at the age of 83 in California. He is buried in Forest Lawn Cemetery.

BRIEF FILMOGRAPHY: Romeo and Juliet (1916), The Marriage Circle (1924), Dangerous Traffic (1926), Ben-Hur (1926), Dick Tracy (1937), Love Crazy (1941), Wilson (1944), The Bad and the Beautiful (1952), Sabrina (1954), The Phantom Planet (1961).

Spring has sprung, and that means that the horror film convention season has begun. From Fangoria Magazine’s Weekend of Horrors in Los Angeles and Comic Con in San Diego in July, to the Cinema Wasteland Convention in Ohio, to the mother of ‘em all, Chiller Theatre Expo in New Jersey, monster fans all across the US, of all ages, tastes and stripes, pull out their spring and summer wardrobe (mostly black teeshirts, similar to the ones they wear in fall and winter) and hit the con circuit to meet their fave celebs, do a little memorabilia shopping, but mostly hang with kindred spirits who love films of the fantastic.

The Chiller Theatre Expo is New Jersey is the baby of the great Kevin Clement. Certainly the largest fan event on the east coast in the United States, Chiller happens a couple of times a year, drawing thousands from across the country. The big show is in October, around Halloween, and the diverse guests that Clement manages to get for his show keeps happy film fans coming back again and again.

This is one of my favorite little Chiller moments–one of many.A couple of springtimes ago we had a table promoting our films DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE and CHAINSAW SALLY. We were stuck in the “Outer Limits” tent, meaning the third tent erected in the parking lot, the one almost no-one got to because it ate up the parking, fans had already spent hours in line to get in, then more hours waiting to get into the main celebrity tent, and by the time they got to our tent, they were either too tired, too broke, or too out of time and pissed off and didn’t set foot inside. The fire marshals were patroling in packs, watching all with eagle-eyes. After all that, many fans never made it into the third tent. So there was a lot of down time…

Our table was in the center of the tent, surrounded by TV horror host Zacherley and actor Kevin McCarthy (INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS) near the entrance at the north side, Conrad Brooks (PLAN NINE FROM OUTER SPACE) watching the the east flank, filmmaker Ted Bohus and HorrorBiz magazine on the west, and Penny Marshall and Cindy Williams in the back, down south.

During one of the many lulls in the action, Penny Marshall shuffled around checking everybody out. It was clear that she wasn’t too thrilled. I was alone at the table, as everyone else had gone to get some late lunch. Marshall locked eyes with me, and snapping gum in time with her slow steps, sauntered over.

We smiled at each other. I broke the ice.

“How’s business?”

She shrugged and chewed her gum. She looked at the DVD of DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE on the table. She picked it up. Her eyes rolled up to the poster behind me and back to the DVD.

“You make this?”

“Yes,” I said, extending my hand. “Mark Redfield. You can have it. My gift to you.” A fan appeared, and was hovering just over Marshall’s shoulder.

Just as she was about to reply, the fan snapped a picture. She whirled on him. “Don’t do that! Don’t ever do that! That’s so rude. If you want a picture, just ask first.”

The fan mumbled something. Marshall looked at me, rolled her eyes as if to ask “whatya gonna do?”, and walked away with the DVD.

When April Burril and Jennifer Rouse got back to the table, I told them that Penny Marshall picked up a copy of JEKYLL. Great they said, maybe she’ll hire you in one of her pictures. Jennifer was upset to find out I gave the DVD away…

A moment later, Marshall shuffled back to the table. April and Jennifer perked up a little.

Marshall sidled up to me and asked, “So–where’s all the porn shit?”

Time froze for a split second. Nobody had an answer. Before any of us could even think of where to direct her (helpful as we are), Marshall said, between gum snaps, “I going to a friends birthday party tonight. Just wanted something goofy. Think he’ll like this?” She held up the DVD of JEKYLL.

“Yeah. I think he’ll love it,” I said, not having a clue as to who this friend was, nor what his interests and tastes were. In hindsight, if she was looking for a goofy porn gift, my version of DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE was certain to disappoint.

Penny Marshall just nodded  and kept bobbing to the music playing in her head, and walked back to her table and Cindy Williams.We all looked at each other and laughed. I stepped outside the tent for a breath of fresh air.

Ten feet away was Dean Stockwell. He was smoking a cigar by the propane tanks used to fuel the heaters for the tents.

I went back inside.

THE 80^TH ACADEMY AWARDS

Editor and screenwriter Sean Paul Murphy throws a fun Oscar party every year, and if I can, I try to make it to his house for the festivities—and his Oscar pool. He’s been doing it for years, and two years ago I won the Oscar pool—(it helps pay for gas for the week!) –last year I came in second. Alas, I came in second again this year—horribly wrong with my guesses for sound and special effects wins. Here are my picks, with the winners, and a few observations.

BEST ACTOR (Leading Role)
My pick: Daniel Day-Lewis Winner: Daniel Day-Lewis
In hindsight, not one American actor won an acting award, giving the show quite the international flavor this year. I don’t think that the Irish Day-Lewis winning best actor was a surprise to anyone. One of the strongest, fiercest, performances in film, ever.

BEST ACTOR (Supporting)
My pick: Javier Bardem Winner: Javier Bardem
Bardem, with is wonderful performance in No Country For Old Men, makes Oscar history as he is the first Spaniard to win in an acting category.

BEST ACTRESS (Leading Role)
My pick: Julie Christie Winner: Marion Cotillard
Christie has long been a favorite of mine, but 32 year-old Cotillard has been collecting awards for years now in her native France, and recently won a BAFTA for La Vie en Rose. This is a film I’m looking forward to owning, and a performance I’m looking forward to watching again and again.

BEST ACTRESS (Supporting):
My pick: Cate Blanchett Winner: Tilda Swinton.
A surprise. Good performance and some interesting choices made by Brit Tilda Swinton in Michael Clayton, but an Oscar? A great actress, but I think she’s as surprised as we are.

ANIMATED (feature):
My pick: “Ratatouille” Winner: “Ratatouille”
Brad Bird is an incredible director, and his film The Iron Giant is one of my favorite animated films of recent years–and one of the guests actually brought ratatouille to our Oscar party, in honor of this wonderful film-mmmm good!

ART DIRECTION:
My pick: “Sweeney Todd” Winner: “Sweeney Todd”
Dante Ferretti is a master, and Sweeney Todd is a masterpiece of production design. I think that this film’s stature will grow over the years. Beside Depp’s nomination for best actor, I think that Helena Bonham Carter deserved a nomination as well for her superb work.

CINEMATOGRAPHY:
My Pick: “The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford” Winner: Robert Elswit for “There Will Be Blood”.
I was disappointed, as I wanted Roger Deakins to win for “Jesse James”. This was tough to pick because Deakins also shot NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN. Both films lensed by Deakins are simply beautiful.

COSTUME DESIGN:
My pick: “Sweeney Todd” Winner: “Elizabeth: The Golden Age”

DIRECTING:
My pick: Joel Coen and Ethan Coen Winner: The Coen Brothers
Never any doubt in my mind they would win.

DOCUMENTARY (feature):
My pick: “No End in Sight” Winner: “Taxi To The Dark Side”

DOCUMENTARY (short):
My pick: “Sari’s Mother” Winner: “Freeheld”
I was way off this year in the doc category!

FILM EDITING:
My pick: “The Bourne Ultimatum” Winner: “The Bourne Ultimatum”
The film with the most cuts wins!

FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM:
My pick: “The Counterfeiters” (Austria) Winner: The Counterfeiters”

MAKE-UP:
My pick: “La Vie en Rose” Winner: “La Vie en Rose”
Really amazing work—but then so is the work done for Norbit—and I’m not kidding. The Eddie Murphy bashing is old and tiresome.

MUSIC (original score):
My pick: “Atonement” Winner: “Atonement”

MUSIC (original song):
My pick: “Falling Slowly” (from “Once”) Winner: “Falling Slowly”

BEST PICTURE:
My pick: “No Country for Old Men” Winner: “No Country For Old Men”
From dark to darker: The Departed wins best pic last year, and into a blacker hell with No Country…next year should be interesting…

SHORT FILM (animated):
My pick: “I Met The Walrus” Winner: “Peter and the Wolf”
I guess I’m a sucker for the Beatles, but Peter and the Wolf is a wonderful stop-motion animated film—and you can watch it on YouTube—until they remove it—because it deservedly won the Oscar!

SHORT FILM: (live action):
My pick: “Tanghi Argentini” Winner: “Le Mozart des Pickpockets”
I should have known–cute kids always win!

SOUND EDITING:
My pick: “Transformers” Winner: “The Bourne Ultimatum”

SOUND MIXING:
My pick: “Transformers” Winner: “The Bourne Ultimatum”

VISUAL EFFECTS:
My pick: “Transformers” Winner: “The Golden Compass”
I should have known–cute polar bears win! This is where I really fell off track with the Oscar guessing game. Somehow it makes sense that Bourne would win sound effects, but I really think “Transformers” is some incredible work, and will be judged in the future as a landmark in FX artistry and animation

SCREENPLAY (adapted):
My pick: “No Country for Old Men”, Joel Coen and Ethan Coen Winner: “No Country For Old Men”

SCREENPLAY (original):
My pick: “Juno”, Diablo Cody Winner: Diablo Cody, “Juno”

As far as the big show itself went, I loved the little animated opening of Governor Arnold driving the van loaded with Oscar statuettes to the Kodak Theater. A fun game of “spot the actor/character” as he made his way from the Hollywood sign to the event. Bill Conti again conducted the orchestra, and the overall mood of the show was subdued and rather quiet, and the whole evening, despite the jokes about its historic length, moved rather quickly. No big show numbers or glitz. It’s very clear that all of the montages were created in the event that the writer’s strike was still happening. Most of them were rather lame and uninspiring. The montage of past Oscar winners had zero magic, and acknowledge the weakness of the montage sequences, host Jon Stewart trotted out a couple of “gag” montages, making fun of the whole thing. Speaking of Stewart, he’s an amiable enough host, and his opening monologue rather good. But he’s not the “Hollywood Insider” that some spectacular past hosts have been, like Bob Hope, Johnny Carson or Billy Crystal, and he seems too respectful and subdued. My personal favorite moment with Jon Stewart was when he marveled at the “new media”, saying that he was watching Lawrence of Arabia on his cell phone. A wonderfully sharp and sarcastic dig at the cinema’s dire future: in a little over a hundred years we’ve come from the peep show to back were we started—the peep show! That’s progress?! In other “what’s wrong with this picture, department”—when’s Johnny Depp gonna get some Oscar love? I hope that he starts racking ‘em up, and doesn’t get his with an “honorary Oscar” when he’s on life support. Shades of some of the other greats that have been slighted by Oscar, like Alfred Hitchcock and Charlie Chaplin.Take, for instance, production designer Robert Boyle, who did receive an honorary Oscar this year. A brilliant art director who was nominated four times through-out a stellar career. At 98, he gave a heartfelt thank-you speech, and all I could think was that it was just a shame that he had never won in the past for such wonderful designs for films like Fiddler On The Roof, North By Northwest and so many others.I was surprised that this year there wasn’t an Irving Thalberg Award given, nor was there a Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award. Missing these moments helped to underscore the mood that the show was somewhat down-sized, and that the producers did the best they could with what time they had to prepare the show from the time the writer’s strike ended to Oscar night. The lack of these awards have nothing to do with time, but they were missed by me. All in all, no political speeches, no big upsets, no big surprises, no “controversy”—not a particularly memorable or entertaining show. Memorable only, perhaps, that with the exception of the film Juno, it was an awards year filled with films that examined the darkness in the human heart. And the Oscar goes to: There Will Be No Country Ratatouille Assassination Blood For Old Counterfeiters In Sight, Sweeney Clayton. That about sums it up, and that’s a title sure to tongue-tie Cameron “cinematography” Diaz! Until next year!

© Mark Redfield

(originally posted on www.redfieldarts.com on January 28, 200

Although this essay was written several weeks ago, I delayed publication upon hearing the news of actor Heath Ledger’s death. Somehow, many things that have been said by the public and by pundits on the internet and in the media regarding Ledger mirrored this essay. I’ve decided to include my thoughts on Ledger’s death at the end of Part 2 of THE TWO-FACED ACTOR.

It seems appropriate that the first published reviews of Robert Louis Stevenson’s novella Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde appeared in the month of January.

The month January is named after the Roman god Janus, which can roughly translate to mean “door”. The god Janus is usually depicted, in painting and in sculpture, with two faces, or two heads. And so January becomes, literally and metaphorically, the “door to the new year”. And a door, symbolically, has neither a beginning nor an ending; it allows one to move in opposite directions, to come and to go. And so Janus also symbolizes change and transformation, the threshold of change, the dividing point of youth and old age, of chaos and civilization, of good and evil.

In Stevenson’s well-known story, even if the theme is known in its broadest strokes and not in detail, Utterson, a lawyer friend to one Dr. Henry Jekyll, plays detective to discover the details of a mysterious man called Hyde who seemingly has a dangerous strangle-hold on the old doctor. As Utterson investigates, and fears that Jekyll may be blackmailed, he is revolted to learn of Hyde’s horrible nature. An evil nature that soon leads to the murder of a respectable member of London society. Before Utterson can unravel the mystery of these two very different beings, it is Jekyll himself, after his death and in his own diary that solves the mystery. Jekyll and Hyde is one and the same person. By using a chemical, Jekyll transformed into “another”, and assumed the identity of “Hyde”, and kept this a secret from all others, including his friend Utterson.

Upon publication, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde captured the imagination of the Victorian reading public. The themes of the story resonate today. It also immediately captured the imagination of actors and theatrical producers.

While Stevenson’s story of duality and the themes of good and evil were used by Victorian clergy in their sermons, American actor Richard Mansfield grasped the enormous potential of these characters for performance, and seized upon the opportunity to create a stunning characterization for the stage less than a year after publication.

Mansfield’s play, adapted by Thomas Russell Sullivan, opened in Boston, in the United States, in May of 1887.

From the New York Times review of May 10th:

Before an audience that filled every seat at the Boston Museum this evening, Mr. Richard Mansfield, an actor of remarkable versatility, unusual perceptive powers, and a perfect command of all the minor resources of the stage, gave form and substance to a character entirely new to the drama. If the effect had gone no further than that the performance would deserve to be recorded conspicuously as an important theatrical event. Mr. Mansfield’s gift of mimicry and his skillful use of the art of ‘make-up” were both called into important service in the new play, and his ability to express vividly some of the worst passions that beset humanity, to depict clearly the traits of cupidity and malignant spite, was brilliantly demonstrated. With these and a picture of physical terror and demoralization not often equaled by an artist so young in experience as he was couple, or rather contrasted, the portrayal of a just, sound-hearted and benignant man, and both tasks were undertaken by the same actor. It must be confessed at the outset, however, that he was more interesting and more impressive in picturing vice than in the expression of virtue and sentimentality.

Mansfield was famous for this play and toured with it, keeping it in his repertoire until his death.

The production was invited to Britain by the great English actor Henry Irving, and Mansfield took the play to London, where it proved as popular as ever. His performance was so popular, and disturbing to the public’s imagination, that during the peek of the investigation into the Jack the Ripper murders, the authorities asked Mansfield to suspend presentation of the play, as to not stir additional public fear. The play resumed performances soon after the Ripper murders ended.

It is said, in some of the lore associated with the Ripper investigation, that Mansfield himself was briefly a suspect. Although unproven and still in many ways a rumor, it is said that an audience member in 1888 was so frightened by Mansfield’s performance, by his transformation, that he notified the police and accused the actor of the Ripper murders because he didn’t believe that any actor could be so convincing and not be an insane, homicidal maniac in real life.

This may seem strange, if the story is indeed true. If untrue, the legend of Richard Mansfield becoming a suspect in the Ripper murders has grown into acceptance, and that fact, in and of itself, is worth looking into.

Why would an actor, celebrated on the stage and held in high esteem, become a suspect in a murder case, simply for playing a deranged, amoral killer?

Assuming that the story is true, the obvious answer is that the transformation Mansfield demonstrated in 1888 was experienced as real, beyond art and artifice, and thus caused fear. It was too good, for its own good.

The real answer is less obvious, at first. Mansfield was made a suspect in the popular imagination of Ripper-ologists because he was an actor. An actor who demonstrated, live, onstage, the very dual nature of the actor’s work. By doing so, Mansfield becomes victim to an anti-theatrical, anti-actor prejudice that continues to taint and cause misunderstanding of what an actor does and what an actor is, to this very day.

Richard Mansfield is certainly not the first actor to be viewed in this prejudicial way, and I don’t mean to imply that his portrayal of Edward Hyde is the first time the public viewed a performance with mistrust, either. Historically, the actor has always been viewed with suspicion, and has been made “an outsider” in society.

It has something to do with how we, as human beings, consider the self. Each of us, at any given time, considers our self, our identity, to be absolute, and unchanging. Have you ever done something, say, made a mistake, and surprised yourself by exclaiming, “That’s not me! I never do that!”, and have been troubled by the revelation? It’s because our sense of self is an idea, or rather an ideal, of who we think we really are, constructed by us, individually.

Coupled with this, we like to think that others are who they are, too, and not something else.

Years ago I threw a Halloween party, and costumes were mandatory. It was a big blow-out, and I invited many people from the theater and art scene, knowing that there would be some spectacular and very creative costumes. I lived in a large house I shared with two others; David, a set designer, and Holly, who worked in theater administration. We decorated the house from front to back, top to bottom, and where Holly chose to dress as a World War One pilot, I chose to do a make-up and costume as Frankenstein’s monster, and David, after shaving a beard he wore for years, made-up as The Bride. It was all very funny. By 8pm the night of the party, there were 150 people swarming the joint.

At about nine o’clock, in order to get some fresh air and take a break from the crush of costumed partiers, I walked a block or so over to a popular watering hole to hook up with a girlfriend that I had been seeing at the time.

At the bar, an hour flew by as costumed folks came and went, showing off what they’d dreamt up for the night. Realizing I was neglecting my own party (but assuming that I wouldn’t be missed as there were so many people choking my house) my girlfriend and I headed back.

David caught me at the front door, and excitedly told me that my father, Tom, had just left, and I’d missed him. I forgot that I’d invited him! Many of my friends had met my father, and knew him a bit, so it wasn’t difficult to understand that many people then were telling me that I had missed him in the hour or so that I was gone. But the most interesting part was the descriptions of my father’s appearance during his brief visit.

Some people were convinced that it had been my father; some were equally convinced that it was someone dressed as my father. All of them were slightly creeped out by the experience…

A few minutes after I left the party, a man arrived wearing a bright yellow suit. Everyone who told me about their experience mentioned the suit. Couldn’t miss it, they said. The man wore a dress shirt and a tie, and as he silently mingled through the crowd, never saying a word, people noticed that he was wearing a mask—a hand-painted life mask of my father.

Friends who knew him, and recognized the face, greeted him. The masked figure never spoke, but simply wandered the party. After about 30 minutes, he left.

Like I said, reports were evenly split. Some thought it was indeed my father, some just weren’t sure, because, they said, he didn’t walk like my father, didn’t say anything, or was taller (or shorter) than they remembered. All of them found the experience un-nerving. Even if it was him, it didn’t seem like him, said one good friend, who was taught ceramics by my father, and knew him well.

What disturbed people so profoundly, even in this event of masquerade, where dressing up and putting on a mask to become someone else is accepted, was the deep uncertainty of what should be wasn’t necessarily what, or in this case, who, it should have been.

The mask hangs on the wall of my office to this day. Dad confessed and came clean. Yes, he was at the party. He said he took great delight in being a “blank” version of himself. He actually referred to the escapade as the “other Tom” once in conversation. He told me later that when he saw the shadow of doubt pass people’s eyes, and they became suddenly unsure of whom he was, they moved away from him. I plan on trying the experiment myself one day, at a future Halloween party…

But, back for a moment to Richard Mansfield, and the dual nature of the actor’s work, and how the public perceives it.

Continued next week in part 2 of THE TWO-FACED ACTOR

COPYRIGHT 2008 Mark Redfield. All Rights Reserved.

(originally posted on www.redfieldarts.com on JANUARY 14, 200

Drawing by Robin Grenville Evans. Used by permission.

Caroline Munro is regarded by her most passionate fans as The First Lady of Fantasy. From her Hammer films of the 1970’s and starring roles in fantasy films such as At The Earth’s Core and The Golden Voyage of Sinbad, to the assassin Naomi in the James Bond adventure The Spy Who Loved Me, and her roles in cinema today, Caroline Munro’s beauty and talent have captured the hearts of movie-goers internationally..

In this first entry for AN ACTOR’S NOTEBOOK, Caroline Munro talks about her early work and being “discovered”, and the turning point in her career when she went to work for Hammer Studios.

Munro began her career as a model in London. Born in Windsor, the teenage Munro won a “Face of the Year” competition after her mother submitted her photograph to The Evening News, the British newspaper sponsoring the contest. Success came fast, and she was modeling for Vogue Magazine by the time she was seventeen. Film work began with bit parts in such films as Casino Royale (1967) and Where’s Jack (1969).

This breakfast chat between Caroline Munro and me took place one chilly Sunday morning in April, 2007, at the Cinema Wasteland film expo in Ohio. It was early morning, the final day of a three-day fan convention. The hotel dining room was just beginning to fill up with hungry celebrities and folks eager to get the day started. After chatting about some future business, we turned the conversation to her early career and the vampire films she has appeared in.

A CONVERSATION WITH CAROLINE MUNRO

MARK REDFIELD: Do you remember where you were, in your career, when DRACULA A.D. 1972 came up?

CAROLINE MUNRO: I did a big billboard, a big poster, in England, for a drink called Lambs Navy Rum. And it actually became a quite well-known and famous poster. Sort of a landmark poster, in so far as it was a first to have such an aggressive woman in it - the pose I mean. I was the first female to wear a wetsuit and a knife! It was a very aggressive ad to sell this rum, and apparently, so they say-

(Caroline breaks off in mid-story and her hazel eyes flash-she smiles.) It’s awful to talk about yourself! It’s really weird…

MARK: I know.

(The noise in the restaurant has increased. Constant clatter and buzz of voices as more people come in for breakfast - Caroline shrugs, almost imperceptibly, and continues.)
CAROLINE: But they said their sales shot up. Supposedly sales shot up. I did the campaign for twelve years. And in the meantime, Sir James Carreras had seen the poster. He used to travel up and down on the train and the poster was a massive great thing outside all the stations, you know, with me with this wetsuit on. And he asked me in to go and do a reading, which I did. And I actually did a screen test, too. From that I was offered a contract. They didn’t have contract players apparently, for a year. But that was towards the end of Hammer, which I didn’t know at the time.

(Sir James Carreras was the head of Hammer Film Productions.)

MARK: And the first film you did with Hammer is DRACULA A.D. 1972…

CAROLINE: Yes, that was the first one. That was a little role. So they offered me that, and that definitely was my turning point.

MARK: What do you mean by “turning point”?

CAROLINE: I had done a few films before that, but that was my turning point, when I worked with Christopher Lee, and when I worked with all of those young, up-and-coming actors. Suddenly I thought, this is what I want to do. I absolutely know. And I loved it. Something felt so natural and, having come from no training-I was working with Stephanie Beecham and Michael Kitchen, the young “Brit Pack” actors of the time. And of course you have Christopher (Lee) and Peter (Cushing)- they’d all come from RADA, they’re all RADA-trained, and there was me - having no formal training. I’d worked on films. I’d worked with Richard Widmark as his daughter, but, I was just playing myself and had no idea what I was doing!

(Caroline refers to the Royale Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA)). Stephanie Beecham had appeared in Michael Winner’s “The Nightcomers” (1972) opposite Marlon Brando. A Golden Globe winner, she has since worked steadily in American television. Michael Kitchen had appeared in British television prior to DRACULA A.D. 1972, and in recent years has been seen as Bill Tanner to Pierce Brosnan’s James Bond in the Brosnan-era 007 films.)

MARK: Were the other actors kind, you being new to the scene?

Christopher Lee and Caroline Munro in Dracula A.D.

CAROLINE: They were great! They were absolutely great. And I did those scenes with Christopher, and it was wonderful.

MARK: So, the early film work and modeling, to quote James Cagney, was just “a job of work”?

CAROLINE: Yes. I would turn up on time and, you know, say my lines, and maybe a little bit mechanically. No training. I worked with Richard Quine on Bell, Book and Candle. And on Talent For Loving (1969). There was Cesar Romero playing my grandfather and Richard Widmark as my dad! Fantastic actors! And I was what? Eighteen or nineteen? New kid on the block. I had no idea it was a huge Paramount film. I was chosen to play a Mexican-American girl. And I was working with all these people! (Richard Quine, an actor-turned-director, helmed two of the last Peter Sellers films, The Prisoner of Zenda (1979) and The Fiendish Plot of Fu Manchu (1980). Sadly, he committed suicide in 1989.)

MARK: Were your parents supportive of your career?

CAROLINE: My parents were there. Paramount flew them to Madrid, where we were shooting. They had a wonderful apartment. We stayed there. They looked after me. I was the baby. It was an extraordinary experience but it really didn’t register, until I started doing that film (DRACULA A.D. 1972), that acting was my passion.

MARK: What was your friends and families reaction to your getting a contract with Hammer Films?

CAROLINE: They were pleased! My father was a lawyer–

MARK: So he looked the contract over twice…

CAROLINE: (laughing) Yeah, he did, actually - But my mum, a housewife - you know, they were not ambitious for me. They were just loving, fantastic parents. Very supportive. If I wanted to do it, that was fine with them. They were never pushy or said, “Oh yes, you gotta do this and you gotta do that.” Not at all.

MARK: Did they have any opinion about working for Hammer, in that it wasn’t Hollywood - Paramount or Warner Bros., for instance?

CAROLINE: No, not at all. I certainly didn’t. Actually, I didn’t know too much about Hammer at the time. I only knew that once I did it, (DRACULA A.D. 1972), that I was hooked on acting.

MARK: What was the reaction to you and the film when it came out in England?

CAROLINE: I got a lot of press. Quite a lot of press, I remember. Even though it was a teeny-weeny, little role. I ’spose the attention was because of the little things I wore. I mean, it’s always based on the physical stuff - more-so, then. Absolutely. The physical stuff and then the one particular scene with Christopher reviewers kept pointing out that they thought was quite good.

MARK: In the early 1970’s, Hammer had produced a number a films, vampire films that featured nudity. The Vampire Lovers, Twins of Evil, and Vampire Circus come to mind. And in mainstream cinema, “casual” nudity was accepted. I’m thinking of Sally Struthers in Five Easy Pieces, for instance. Was there any pressure from the producers to do nudity, and what went into your decision not to do nude scenes?

CAROLINE: I’m not prudish, and people can do what they want. Just for me, it was a personal choice. It’s something I didn’t want to do. Plus, I think it’s more “what you don’t see” that’s more interesting. For me, it’s nice to have a little mystery. Maybe I’m an old-fashioned girl! A little bit, anyway!

MARK: After DRACULA A.D. 1972 was released, what were the immediate career benefits? What did you do between DRACULA A.D. 1972 and CAPTAIN KRONOS-VAMPIRE HUNTER?

CAROLINE: There were the two Phibes films right after.

Vincent Price and Caroline Munro in The Aboninable Dr. Phibes

MARK: Was the Hammer contract exclusive?

CAROLINE: Well! It was exclusive. I thought it was. Now how did they…? In the meantime, I was asked to do the two Phibes films, but with no credit…

MARK: …really…

CAROLINE: …which is very odd. My agent–I had Dennis Selinger, who was at ICM at the time–and he said, “Oh yes, you know, just go ahead and do it. Do it.” And Hammer didn’t…Was that before or not?…Isn’t that awful!

MARK: I’ll double-check the dates.

CAROLINE: You’ll have to. Because I’m very bad on dates! This was so long ago! But it was all about that time. I think I was uncredited because I had a contract - if that makes any sense.

(Turns out that the Phibes films we’re talking about pre-date DRACULA A.D. 1972. Starring Vincent Price, the shockers The Abominable Dr. Phibes (released in May, 1971) and the sequel Dr. Phibes Rises Again (released in July, 1972), featured Caroline as the diabolical Phibes’ corpse bride, Victoria. So the film that Caroline did between A.D. and KRONOS is the Ray Harryhausen fantasy film, The Golden Voyage of Sinbad. Dennis Selinger was, perhaps, Britain’s most powerful talent agent. He discovered Peter Sellers, and had on his client list, at various times during his career, Michael Caine, Roger Moore, Sean Connery and others. Selinger passed away in 1998.)

MARK: Let’s talk about KRONOS, but first, because of the project that I’m currently developing that we were talking about this morning, I wanted to ask you if you were up for the role in…

CAROLINE: –Jekyll and Hyde - “Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde”–

MARK: Not only that, Hammer’s last Frankenstein film?

CAROLINE: Oh, I was thinking of your film. I don’t think so. Not to my knowledge. That Maddie (Madeline Smith) played?

MARK: Yes, that’s it. Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell.

CAROLINE: No. I was definitely up for Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde.

MARK: With Martine Beswick…

MARK: So how did KRONOS come about? Did you have to read for it?

CAROLINE: Well, not really. Because don’t forget I’d just done A.D., and I was under contract, so they were trying to find a project. And then Brian Clemens came along, and said, “She’s right for my gypsy.”

MARK: Carla was your first major role. Looking back on KRONOS, what do you think of the film today?

CAROLINE: I think the film stands out. I’m amazed. I did see it at the time when we recorded the commentary track for the DVD release, so it would be two years ago, and I just think it stands out, actually even better today, because it’s kind of a timeless thing which is odd because - obviously - KRONOS meant “time traveler” in Greek, I believe. So it has a kind of timeless feel to it, to me. I think it still stands out today - because it didn’t have too much graphic violence in it, hardly any sex or anything, it didn’t have the excesses, but it had a kind of spiritual feel - in a way - which I think the kind of esoteric feel, I think - um - maybe works today.

MARK: What did you think of your leading man?

CAROLINE: Of course it had sword fighting which I think was brilliant - I think Horst did an amazing job with that - I think he did an incredible job and he was with Bill Hobbs - the fight director—and I think that was just a great scene. He worked really hard on that and I think it really paid off—one of the highlights of the film for me, was the sword fighting.

MARK: How was Brian Clemens as a director and how did he work with you?

CAROLINE: Just a fabulous director to work with. Because he had a - he’s very English, and has a very - kind of - dry sense of humour. At the same time - and he didn’t go on, sadly, to direct any more films.

MARK: No, no feature films.

CAROLINE: He was a wonderful director, very quiet, he knew exactly what he wanted. Very, very good with actors. He had a kind of - you felt very confident with him. Because I hadn’t done a lot of work in those days, so I was pretty much a novice, working with other really good people. It was quite an important role for me because I ’spose one of the first leads I’d done - so I kinda felt, you know, I had to do my best and he was great with me. I think, in fact, he was so good - I look on him as a bit of a mentor ’cause he went on to suggest me for SINBAD - as he did the screenplay. I think he’s wonderful. And I asked him - I think I told you this - I asked him why he didn’t do any more and he said “because he wasn’t asked”! - to direct. Which is very strange to me because I thought he did a brilliant job.

MARK: Have you spoken to Brian since the KRONOS audio commentary?

CAROLINE: Yes! We’ve seen each other. He did a short thing for his son - a 15-20 minute piece for his son and it was shown at a festival in London. It was very good. His son’s very good-looking and a very good actor. Sam - Sam Clemens. Who I’m sure will do very well. He’s very young. So he has a lot of time in front of him. But he (Brian) did that for him. And so we saw him there and we had lunch with him - last year we had lunch with him in London, so we kind of - I’m hoping he’ll do some shows - he’d be a great guest.

Mark: You took a long break in your career, didn’t you?

CAROLINE: Took a long time off to have my girls. I took a long time. And of course in that time, I had my girls late, and in that time everything changes. And of course you’re not offered the roles. Yeah, I was offered some roles, but not really what I wanted to do. The roles stopped, really, I ’spose. I took really, ten years off, which is really a long time. I worked a lot in Europe after - in the eighties, and I worked a lot in Europe with some really interesting directors. And you change, not just physically, but in your outlook. You’re growing, aren’t you? You have a family. What is the most important thing and how you deal with things - I suppose and it’s been tough, the last few years have been tough I have to think of it as a positive

MARK: You’re talking about your personal life and not so much your professional life?

CAROLINE: Yeah, the personal life. The career was wonderful. I never sought anything, really. I never pursued anything. I was not ambitious. It came to me.

MARK: So you weren’t ambitious and aggressive?

CAROLINE: Not at all. Never. I was so surprised when people asked me - and thrilled.

And ask her I did. Caroline will star with me in THE MADNESS OF FRANKENSTEIN later this year.

Copyright 2008 Mark Redfield. All Rights Reserved.

NEXT WEEK: THE TWO-FACED ACTOR