James Stewart: A Veterans Day Salute

On this Veterans Day, Hollywood Dreamland, in its own small way, would like to honor the service of all veterans who have served their country. James Stewart was one of the many who answered their country's call.

James Stewart (1908-1997) was already an Oscar-winning actor and had been a pilot of his own plane beginning in the mid-1930s when he enlisted in the United States Army Air Force (USAAF) in March, 1941. He had previously been rejected for service due to his insufficient weight (Stewart was under the 148lb minimum weight requirement) the previous year and gained the weight through a workout program with the help of an MGM trainer, Don Loomis. Stewart joined the USAAF as a private and earned a Second Lieutenant's commission in 1942. After several months of training bombardiers and B-17 pilots in New Mexico, Stewart was finally assigned to a bombing group in 1943.

In 1944, Stewart was assigned to the 454th Bombardment Group, his unit flew the B-24 Liberator in air operations over Germany. By then, he had attained the rank of Major. The number of official missions flown by Stewart’s wing is twenty, but he ordered numerous missions over Nazi Germany kept uncounted. By the end of the war, James Stewart had reached the rank of Colonel, with several decorations including the Distinguished Flying Cross (twice), and the Air Force Medal with Three Oak Leaf Clusters.

He was also admired by his peers. From Citizen Soldiers by Stephen E. Ambrose:

"A special favorite was Maj. James Stewart, the actor already famous for parts in The Philadelphia Story and Mr. Smith Goes To Washington. Stewart enlisted as a private, made his way into pilot training school, and earned his wings. The Air Force knew he was a good flyer but didn't want to risk him, so he was assigned to the staff. He insisted on flying. He bacame a squadron commander. One of his pilots, Lt. Hal Turrell, said of Stewart: 'He was a wonderful human being and excelled as a command pilot..He never grandstanded by picking missions. If our group led the wing, he flew.'

Stewart would remain involved with the Air Force Reserve and was promoted to Brigadier general in 1959. During the Vietnam War, Stewart flew in a B-52 bomber as an observer. He refused to let the story be reported. James Stewart retired from the Air Force in 1968, after twenty-seven years of service.

It staggers the mind that a man who had everything to lose would ditch his movie career--at its peak--and answer his country's call. I cannot imagine any actor today (NFL player Pat Tillman is the exception) setting his career aside to join the armed forces full time, volunteer for combat duty, and proceed to remain involved with that service for nearly thirty years. Stewart's service, and the other Hollywood legends who worked in some capacity (Robert Montgomery, Clark Gable, and John Ford, to name but a few) never gave it a second thought and enlisted, helping in any way they could. They could have sat out the war and continued to pad their bank accounts and add more Oscars to their shelves, but sacrificed their careers and risked their lives to serve their country.

Katharine Hepburn: Holiday (1938)

Holiday (1938) was Katharine Hepburn’s first film based on a Philip Barry play and followed her roles in the ensemble hit Stage Door and the overlooked (and eventual classic), Bringing Up Baby, both from 1937. These films came in the midst of Hepburn’s “Box Office Poison” period when in the spring of 1938, Hepburn (along with Joan Crawford, Fred Astaire, and Mae West) was listed by Harry Brandt, president of the Independent Theater Owners of America, as being among the stars whose films guaranteed poor box-office sales. Holiday also had the misfortune of getting overshadowed by Hepburn’s “comeback” effort, the most-famous Philip Barry play, The Philadelphia Story, a successful 1939 Broadway stage hit and a popular film in 1940, earning The Great Kate her third Academy Award nomination. Holiday doesn’t quite reach the heights of The Philadelphia Story, but it comes tantalizingly close.

(Virtually) Spoiler-Free Synopsis: Holiday concerns free spirit and nonconformist Johnny Case (Cary Grant). Johnny comes from a humble family in Baltimore but has the potential to become a successful businessman. However, he feels that there is more to life than earning money. He meets Julia Seton (Doris Nolan) at a Lake Placid ski resort just before Christmas. The two begin a whirlwind romance and plan to marry the following January. Unbeknownst to Johnny, Julia is from a wealthy and influential east coast family. Julia brings Johnny to the family’s stately mansion to meet her family. Her father, Edward is a chronically straight-laced businessman who is so organized and controlling that he owns the tobacco plantation the cigars he smokes come from. Julia’s brother, Ned (Lew Ayres; who's great here), is a heavy drinker disinterested in his duly-appointed position at the family investment firm. And then there's Linda (Hepburn), Julia’s elder sister who acts as madcap and carefree as Johnny, but who has a sad, tragic aspect to her. The Seton children’s mother, who was the heart of the family, died some years before. The movie chronicles Johnny’s attempts at convincing Julia and her father that he needs to explore life before sacrificing his freedom for a successful, but stultifying business career.

What makes Holiday (aka: “Unconventional Linda”; so the film is about her!) so rewarding is Katharine Hepburn’s performance as the idealistic, romantic Linda. She’s clearly the black sheep of the family. She has romantic ideals, but doesn’t possess the will to go through with them. She’s occasionally melodramatic and melancholy but also possesses a quick wit, trading humorous barbs with Johnny--the amusing “sheep and goat” routine typifies their great rapport. Linda and Johnny also share the same negative view of money worship (Linda: “Don’t you know that money is our God?”). Yet underneath it all, Linda suffers from emotional problems, which are explained away by Edward and Julia as Linda having one of her “headaches”, an excuse used when her proposed engagement party for Johnny and Julia’s engagement is rejected in favor of the formal affair her father organizes. Linda has preserved the family’s upstairs play room, where she reflects on those long-lost days. Linda's internal suffering is effectively and sympathetically realized by Hepburn. She is nostalgic, the playroom is preserved like a shrine. It is was once the center for family activity: her late mother played piano, Ned began work on his concerto and Linda painted. The room ceased to flourish after the Seton matriarch’s death.

Grant and Hepburn on the set of Holiday with director George Cukor

Hepburn’s role is similar to a number of her 1930s performances (Alice Adams comes to mind). She’s more sympathetic and does not yet embody the steely source of strength and independence that would define most Hepburn characters in subsequent decades. The Linda Seton character is quite unlike her iconic performances in better-known roles such as Tracy in The Philadelphia Story or Tess in Woman of the Year. Holiday is centered on Johnny Case's choice, but it is Hepburn's movie. She is the emotional center of the film and gets to shine under director George Cukor's steady hand. Her performance is entirely convincing. I know it's cliché to say this, but Hepburn becomes Linda Seton. I'm discovering that Hepburn's best 1930s performances all have this quality where she immerses herself into the character. I'm not saying that other actors from this time period don't, but Hepburn is the first actress who made me notice, and I didn't realize it until I reflected on the movie some time later! Watching Katharine Hepburn in Holiday makes me wish she would have revisited the fragile, delicate side of her persona more often in her post-Philadelphia Story career.

Gail Patrick: Deco Dame, Part II

"I'm an avid reader of 'Hollywood Dreamland' because it allows me to reflect on the era in which I lived..."


I’ve managed to find some wonderful Gail Patrick photographs lately. The amount of publicity stills--which I'll string along in future entries-- that exist even for her obscure films makes my mouth water! To think of the numerous mysteries, comedies, and westerns that she appeared in during the thirties and forties that *never* get aired on the premium movie channels! The fact that so few of her films are available only stokes the fire of my curiosity! Just how many roles did she play when she wasn’t the bad, “other” woman? The volume of publicity stills also drives home the fact that the studio system was all encompassing in its ability to promote even their second-tier performers. The selection of photographs shows various aspects of the actress' career. I hope to find many more. Enjoy. (click photos for larger view)

"In Character" Gail- From Disbarred (1939) locking horns with co-star Robert Preston. Judging from the IMDB synopsis, Gail's character, "Joan Carroll" is quite the accomplished, strong-willed career woman, even if she is an attorney fronting for a crime syndicate!

Huckster Gail- This 1937 card accompanying Union Tobacco has Gail looking every bit the girl next door--and well put together in some snazzy shoes!

Sultry Gail- from an Argentine press book. "Bellisma", indeed! I don't think that such a smoldering still would get published in an American magazine. It looks (but isn't) pre-Code.

Okay, so I haven't provided detailed analysis of obscure Gail Patrick films, but seeing as they are largely unavailable, I'll just have to will them into being! Here's hoping that Turner Classic Movies will someday dedicate some time to Gail Patrick via one of their "theme of the month" festivals and air some of her obscure films.

Recommended Reading: "On Cukor"

On Cukor, originally published in 1972, is screenwriter Gavin Lambert’s (Sons and Lovers; Inside Daisy Clover) series of wonderful interviews with Golden Age Hollywood director George Cukor (1899-1983). The interviews cover the director's entire career, from Cukor discovery Katharine Hepburn’s screen debut in A Bill of Divorcement (1932) to masterworks like The Women (1939), The Philadelphia Story (1940) and A Star Is Born (1954). Forgotten flops like Her Cardboard Lover (1942) and The Chapman Report (1962) receive honest appraisals from Cukor the interviewee, too. Included in the book are between-film “Interludes”, where the director candidly discusses actors (Katharine Hepburn, Spencer Tracy, Greta Garbo), directors (Cukor was amused and fascinated by Alfred Hitchcock), and well-known events in Cukor's career, like when Cukor was replaced as director of Gone With the Wind.

I credit this book with getting me interested in 1930s movies. I received it as a gift in 1999 and I'll admit that at the time, Cukor’s films were not the kind I usually watched. “Too many women’s pictures” I muttered, ignorant as Hell. I duly shelving the book without any clue that this book and this director would one day rank among my favorites. It was only three years ago when I finally admitted that the 1930s and 1940s were the greatest period in cinematic history. I had been a Film Noir enthusiast for some time, but 1930s films were largely unknown to me. As I worked my way through the book, I found myself becoming enthralled with Cukor's films. Yes, many of the movies had women as the protagonists, but these weren’t the usual women’s roles I had grown up being bored by. Thirties and Forties female stars---especially in George Cukor's work-- were so much smarter, sexier, and funnier than the bland homemaker types of the 1950s (and their "Va-va-voom!" counterparts), or the bewigged, overly-sexualized drones of the 1960s (I’m generalizing; there are exceptions to each decade, of course).

What makes On Cukor so memorable is the man himself. George Cukor was intelligent, witty, and sophisticated. He speaks honestly of his successes and failures but surprisingly says little about his Oscar-winning effort, My Fair Lady (1964). Cukor and Lambert work well together, with Lambert serving as a sympathetic, knowledgeable interviewer. He knows the director's work and this adds to the reader’s enjoyment. This book avoids any awkward moments which is a stark contrast to George Cukor: Interviews (from the Conversations with Filmmakers Series) which compiles numerous mainstream press interviews with Cukor over the course of three decades. Cukor comes off (or is portrayed as) guarded and even grouchy! Not so in the Lambert book, which contains the strongest series of interviews I’ve ever read with a filmmaker. Apparently, the newer edition of the book contains numerous photographs that were unavailable in the 1972 edition. I was also thrilled to learn that the republication in 2000 coincided with a PBS documentary of the same name from the American Masters series.

A hearty recommendation for On Cukor!